But he simply didn't dare to resign.
It wasn't about loyalty to his teaching position, but rather that Lockhart knew better than anyone that he made his living off his reputation.
All his wealth, fans, and bestselling status come from his persona as an "omnipotent defense against the Dark Magic master."
If someone were to slink away from Hogwarts during the very first week of school, all that would be said is:
Gilderoy Lockhart couldn't even teach a lesson; he was a fraud, a good-for-nothing, a pretty face with no substance.
Resigning would be tantamount to personally refuting the rumors about him.
Fans will stop supporting him, bookstores will return his books, newspapers will stop interviewing him, wealthy women will stop idolizing him, and his reputation will be shattered on the spot.
Even more deadly is--
When Dumbledore invited him, he made it very clear: Hogwarts is the most respectable and prestigious position.
Being able to teach at Hogwarts is the biggest advertisement for him.
Now, fleeing in such a sorry state is tantamount to telling the entire Wizarding World: I'm not good enough, I can't hold the fort, I'm not worthy of this position.
So even if he was hiding in his office, trembling with anger and filled with remorse,
There was nothing they could do but grit their teeth and persevere.
Even if I have to pretend, I'll finish this year's act.
When Harry and his friends walked into the Great Hall, chatting and laughing,
Draco and Hermione had already cleared their plates and were getting ready to leave.
"You guys eat so fast? Are you starving ghosts reincarnated?!" Ron said speechlessly.
Ginny laughed and added, "Not eating enthusiastically means there's something wrong with your thinking. You're going back for a nap after you finish eating."
Hermione waved to them, "We're going now, we have classes this afternoon."
Draco nodded slightly and followed her out of the Great Hall, too lazy to argue with Ron anymore.
Ron pursed his lips, pulled Harry down to sit, grabbed a roasted potato, and stuffed it into his mouth.
The lunch break passed quickly.
When the bell rang for the afternoon Defence Against Dark Magic class, everyone entered the classroom with a sense of anticipation.
Everyone was secretly wondering what strange creature Lockhart would unleash this time.
When class started, everyone was stunned.
Lockhart stood quietly in front of the podium, his hair neatly combed, his wand tucked properly into his pocket, showing no intention of causing any trouble.
He forced a smile, "Class, in today's lesson... we'll be learning theoretical knowledge."
After saying that, he opened his book and began to read it aloud, word by word, in a very honest and respectful manner.
The whole class looked at each other in bewilderment. It seemed that the ordeal that morning had completely terrified Lockhart.
He doesn't dare to stand out at all now; he just wants to get through this class quietly.
Ron whispered to Harry, "Looks like he's really scared. At least he can listen to the lesson peacefully now."
Hermione nodded slightly, while Draco looked completely at ease; he Prophecy it all along, Lockhart would never dare to cause trouble again.
Gryffindor held Quidditch freshman selections again this year.
Although the reserves are already overflowing, Wood, having tasted the benefits of roster depth last time, is now determined to make the team strong and well-equipped.
The result was unexpected.
Ginny was actually selected and became the Chaser for the second team.
George and Fred also made it into the first team and officially became key players.
Ron was the only one who suffered a bit; his Quidditch dream was shattered once again, and he complained about it a lot to Draco and Hermione.
Draco and Hermione were surprisingly in agreement: unless the team was truly on the verge of collapse, there was no need for them to come out of retirement.
The glory has already been won; participating again would simply mean winning another championship, offering no additional benefit and wasting a lot of time.
To put it bluntly, Quidditch is just one way for them to enrich their leisure time.
Hermione wanted to focus entirely on her studies, while Draco had other pastimes.
Other houses are also undergoing large-scale reshuffles, the most surprising of which is Cho Chang's selection for the Ravenclaw Quidditch Team.
Because he was friends with Draco and the others, Draco paid some attention to him, but as for the other houses, Draco didn't care at all.
But no one expected that Ravenclaw would ultimately win the Quidditch championship this year.
The problem lies with Harry.
He was distracted by Cho Chang's dummy that day, which is understandable, as few people can resist Cho Chang's performance on the field.
Quidditch is inherently unpredictable; even the slightest mistake can lead to the opponent taking the game out of the match.
Nobody really blamed Harry; most people just teased and joked around with him.
October arrived quickly, and the damp, cold air permeated the stadium and seeped into the stone walls of the castle.
A cold suddenly spread among the teachers and students, Madam Pomfrey was extremely busy in the Hospital Wing.
With Hermione focused entirely on her studies, the responsibility of taking care of her naturally fell entirely on Draco.
Hermione walked down the corridor carrying a thick stack of books, her nose slightly red from the cold.
She was so focused on her afternoon homework that she didn't even notice that her coat zipper wasn't fully closed.
Draco spotted it immediately.
He didn't say anything, but simply reached out and gently pressed her arm, pulling her closer to him to block the draft.
"Are you planning to freeze me sick and then have Madam Pomfrey keep me in the Hospital Wing to do my homework?"
As he spoke, Draco slowly zipped her zipper up to her neckline and straightened her scarf, wrapping her up tightly.
Hermione was so flustered by him that she had to stop and look up at him. "I'm not that cold."
"That won't do either," Draco said matter-of-factly. "Whenever you catch a cold, you'll be sneezing and forcing me to help you with your studies."
That's what he said, but he took off his robe and draped it over Hermione's shoulders without saying a word.
It carried his clean scent, and although it was a little too big, it just covered her completely.
"Don't you wear it yourself?" Hermione asked, tugging at her robe.
Draco smirked and said, "You just reminded me."
Before she could react, he reached out and pulled Hermione into his arms, then wrapped the large robe around both of them at the same time.
Half of it covered Hermione, and the other half wrapped around himself. Instantly, the two were tightly enveloped by the same garment and the same temperature, so close that they could smell each other's scent.
Hermione froze, her cheeks burning.
She instinctively tried to back away, but Draco held her firmly around the waist, making it impossible for her to break free.
"De Draco! This is a corridor... Someone will see us!"
Hermione's heart was pounding so hard it felt like it was going to burst out of her chest.
Draco looked at her blushing profile, his smile deepening, and deliberately pulled her closer. "So what if you saw?"
"Anyway, I can't let my girlfriend get cold, and I can't let myself get cold either."
The wind blew in from the other end of the corridor, but it couldn't penetrate the school uniforms that were tightly wrapped around the two of them.
Hermione kept her head down, obediently leaning against him and letting him lead her forward.