"Wow!"
Rowen had just gotten a taste of how wild the moving photos in the wizarding world could be—and how absolutely *nuts* some witch fans were.
He held the wildly inappropriate photo in his hands, swallowing hard. Even though he lived alone in a sprawling magical mansion, he couldn't help but glance around to make sure no one was nearby.
Obviously, there wasn't.
The house was protected by powerful defensive charms— not even a wizard disguised as a bug could sneak in.
"I hope you can guide me on how to deal with the pests in my house. They keep crawling on me, and it's so itchy…"
He read the fan letter aloud, pinching the bridge of his nose, trying to look serious as he sifted through the original Gilderoy Lockhart's memories for ways to handle such "pests."
Yep.
Rowen had *crossed over*.
He'd become Gilderoy Lockhart.
Unlike the movie version, in Harry Potter's second year at Hogwarts, Lockhart was only 27, a mere nine years out of Hogwarts himself.
In those nine short years, Lockhart, born to a lower-class mixed-blood wizard family, had traveled the world, taken down over a dozen powerful wizards, stolen their stories, and turned them into a slew of bestselling books. He'd become an international celebrity author.
*Gilderoy Lockhart's Guide to Household Pests*, *The Gilderoy Lockhart Series*, *Break with a Banshee*, *Travels with Trolls*, *Year with the Yeti*, *Voyage with Vampires*, *Wandering with Werewolves*, *Magical Me*—the list went on.
Each book brought in piles of royalties, blending expertise and entertainment so perfectly that they'd likely keep earning him Galleons for life.
But that wasn't all. Lockhart was a master networker, charming everyone from *Daily Prophet* reporter Rita Skeeter to tribal chiefs in far-off Africa. His connections were endless.
Merlin Order of the Third Class, honorary member of the Dark Force Defense League, five-time winner of *Witch Weekly's* Most Charming Smile Award…
Heck, he even ran a luxury shampoo brand.
*Wow.*
What would a guy like this achieve if he lived a few more decades?
Headmaster of Hogwarts?
Minister for Magic?
Maybe even Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards?
Rowen didn't know.
Because *he* was Lockhart now.
What he *did* know was that, even if he decided to coast on the original Lockhart's success and do nothing, the secret that he was a fraud *could never* get out.
His mind was a jumbled mess of memories, making it impossible to focus enough to cast even basic spells like the Unlocking Charm. He was even more useless than the original Lockhart, who at least had his trusty Memory Charm.
Rowen sighed, picked up a gilded quill, dipped it in ink, and let muscle memory guide him as he mimicked Lockhart's handwriting to reply to this fiery fan.
(*Bookmark 101kan.com for the fastest chapter updates!*)
This fan came from one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight pure-blood families, with serious influence in the wizarding world.
"…I've decided to write a groundbreaking work, the likes of which the wizarding world has never seen. It may take years—ten, maybe twenty? I don't care. It's the duty of the most learned wizard alive to take on such a mission…"
"…This long silence might make people forget me, but it's worth it! I know history will remember my name for this great work…"
There. A perfect excuse to lie low and do nothing.
*My dearest fan, spread the word.*
Rowen smirked, pleased with himself. He folded the letter, slipped in one of Lockhart's hormone-charged, heartthrob photos from a stack of ready-to-go portraits, sealed the envelope, and fed his owl before sending it off.
"Perfect!"
Rowen stretched and sauntered over to the full-length mirror to admire himself.
Being the wizarding world's hottest bestselling author wasn't just about his witty, gripping books. His looks sealed the deal.
Handsome enough to be a heartthrob, with clear blue eyes brimming with apparent wisdom, meticulously styled golden hair, and vibrant, colorful wizard robes…
That image…
It reminded people of the world's most powerful wizard, who also had blue eyes and a penchant for colorful robes: Albus Dumbledore. Fans couldn't help but imagine a young Dumbledore looking just like this.
And that was Lockhart's sly little trick.
He'd studied Dumbledore's youthful style carefully.
"Perfect!" he said again, flashing his signature, witch-swooning smile at the mirror.
But the smile didn't last.
Because, to his horror, the mirror reflected a tall figure standing behind him.
Same blue eyes. Same purple robes.
"Dum…"
"Dumbledore?"
Rowen gasped, spinning around to face the man.
*Oh no.*
He knew better than anyone how terrifying the man before him was.
One thought screamed in his mind: *Legilimency!*
He was done for. Dumbledore could easily sift through his chaotic thoughts and discover he was a time-traveler!
Thanks to years of reading fanfiction, Rowen was convinced Dumbledore could whip out Legilimency at any moment.
"Gilderoy Lockhart…" Dumbledore's tone was gentle but carried an undeniable authority. "I've been waiting for you all day in the Headmaster's office. I don't think you should still be at home."
"Huh?"
Rowen panicked, frantically searching Lock damned Hogwarts and its cursed Defense Against the Dark Arts job!
The position had been jinxed for ages. Months ago, Professor Quirinus Quirrell had died under bizarre circumstances, leaving Dumbledore desperate for a replacement.
Lockhart had *no* interest in the job.
His life was already perfect—why bother teaching at a school?
But Dumbledore was a master persuader. He'd dangled the idea that teaching the "Chosen One," Harry Potter, would skyrocket Lockhart's fame—an offer the original Lockhart couldn't resist.
So, the original Lockhart had agreed.
And now, the school year was about to start!
*Ugh.*
Was it too late to back out?
Rowen knew full well that a magical nobody like him, who couldn't even cast a spell, would be in serious danger at a Hogwarts coveted by Voldemort.
He looked at Dumbledore's stern face, opened his mouth, and wondered if refusing would get him zapped by an angry old wizard.
"I'm, uh, just packing my things," he said, forcing a sincere smile.
Dumbledore just watched him calmly. "I'll wait right here."