"Ah, Professor Dumbledore!" Lockhart adopted an even more "sincere" and "respectful" tone as he strode over. His boots made almost no sound against the floor, each step spaced evenly—not so fast as to seem eager, nor so slow as to suggest hesitation.
"Before I leave, I was wondering... perhaps we should speak alone? About... the future?" He tilted his head slightly, his gaze passing over Dumbledore's half-moon spectacles and settling on those blue eyes, his meaning unmistakable.
Dumbledore's bright blue eyes regarded him calmly through the half-moon lenses. That gaze was profound, as though it could see through every surface. He smiled faintly, his long silver-white beard gleaming in the sunlight. "Of course, Gilderoy. Please, follow me."
The emphasis fell on the word "please," as light as a feather touching water. Yet to Lockhart, it sounded more like a thin sheet of ice being stepped on ever so gently—not broken, but clearly bearing some unseen strain.
Lockhart maintained his smile and, beneath the watchful eyes of the crowd, followed Dumbledore up the spiral staircase to the eighth floor. The stairs turned slowly beneath their feet, each step falling perfectly into Dumbledore's rhythm, as though the entire castle were keeping pace with its master.
They soon reached the door to the Headmaster's Office. Dumbledore waved it open and gestured for him to enter. Lockhart stood on the mat outside, the tips of his boots pointed directly at the familiar curved carpet, whose golden trim glimmered faintly in the firelight. He did not step inside at once, instead pausing just beyond the threshold for an instant, as if making some ceremonial confirmation.
Seeing Lockhart's demeanor, Dumbledore made a mild joke. "What is it, Professor Lockhart? Afraid to give me your work report?"
Lockhart chuckled and flashed a dazzling smile. "Hahaha, I am