The next morning, he rose muscles still a little heavy from the night before.
His member strained painfully against his braies. Curiosity made him strip to see what had changed. His eyes widened slightly: it was thicker than before. Even his balls had grown a little.
He remembered the first day he had transmigrated into Lockhart's body, he had felt a bit uncomfortable—he was in someone else's body and had to accept the new reality.
Naturally, like any male would, his first curiosity had been to check his new body. He had been relieved to find that Lockhart's length was similar to what he had in his previous life.
Beyond that, Jon had noticed how unhealthy Lockhart's body had been. Over the months since then, he had worked steadily on exercising and building a physique even better than before. Now, even before the ritual, his body was muscular and healthy. The Physical Reinforcement Ritual had strengthened his muscles further, making them appear more defined—still lean, but far more solid and capable.
He stepped out of the Room of Requirement and walked across the castle grounds to a quiet clearing. His fists flexed automatically. He swung at a nearby tree—and the trunk cracked with a sharp, echoing snap. He staggered back slightly, the force throwing him off balance.
Whoa… that's new.
He spent a few minutes testing his limits. At first, his movements were awkward, clumsy; his body adjusting to strength it hadn't handled before. But he adapted quickly, each motion growing smoother, faster, more precise. By mid-morning, he moved with complete control. Fists smashed wood, stones split, his own weight felt perfectly balanced.
Dammm. Am I OP now?
By late morning, Gilderoy stood in the center of the clearing, breathing evenly, muscles moving naturally. His body was no longer foreign—it was his. He had sculpted it into shape. Strength hummed under every motion, steady and reliable. He let out a long breath, a small smile crossing his face.
I am strong as hell.
---
At breakfast, he smiled a little too brightly, spilling a touch of pumpkin juice on the tablecloth and laughing it off with exaggerated flair. No classes today… perfect. He had an important plan he wanted to carry out.
Amelia noticed, of course. "You're acting… strange today," she said, brow quirked. "More than usual. Did you sleep with a broom under your pillow or something?"
"Me? Strange? Never!" he said, too quickly, then coughed politely into his hand, waving it off.
Throughout the morning, he kept glancing at the clock, muttering under his breath as he passed corridors or helped first year students with small charms.
After excusing himself for a brief bathroom break, Gilderoy called the elves and whispered instructions — subtle, precise, details— for the Astronomy Tower.
Gilderoy returned to find Amelia organizing her notes for the day. She looked up, curiosity flickering in her eyes. "You've been quiet all morning," she said. "Planning something?"
He shrugged, fingers brushing his sleeve unconsciously, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "Just… keeping busy," he said smoothly, his grin a fraction too sharp. "Nothing exciting for you to worry about."
"Walk with me," Gilderoy said, heading toward the dungeons.
Amelia fell into step beside him, amused. "Escorting me now?"
"For a bit," he replied with a faint smile.
They stopped outside the Hufflepuff common room. He turned to her, hesitation flickering just briefly. "Would you… like to dress up tonight?"
She tilted her head. "Dress up?"
"Yeah," he said. "I was thinking I'd come by and pick you up in an hour."
Amelia studied his face, then her smile softened. "An hour sounds good."
"I'll be here," he promised.
She stepped closer before turning away. "Don't keep me waiting, then."
When Amelia emerged, she found him waiting outside, dressed in a crisp shirt and a smart black jacket. Her breath caught for a moment, eyes widening slightly. She hadn't expected him to look so… sharp. The soft glow from the corridor lamps highlighted the subtle definition of his lean frame, the way the jacket hugged his shoulders, and the gentle waves of his blond hair falling just so. For a heartbeat, Amelia felt a flutter in her chest, a mix of admiration and something warmer she couldn't name. She had to steady herself before taking a step forward.
Gilderoy wasn't faring any better. Seeing her in a blue dress, the fabric hugging all the right places, held his gaze in a way he couldn't look away from.
He kept his face calm — practiced, polite — though his chest felt tight in a way precise words couldn't hide. He noted the way the dress caught the light, how the fabric fell across her shoulders, then forced himself to look at her face. Amelia met his gaze, and for a beat, neither pretended it was easy. The restraint between them felt deliberate rather than accidental.
"You look absolutely gorgeous, Amy," he said, voice steady.
"Amy, huh?" Amelia grinned back. "Then you are Gil from now on."
"And you cleaned up nice too," Amelia added, her compliment genuine, which Gilderoy returned warmly.
He took her hand, guiding her through the castle with a calm demeanor. Each step was measured, precise, as though rehearsed — leading her purposefully toward the Astronomy Tower. Their hands fit together naturally; he didn't squeeze or show off the hold — he simply kept her anchored. Amelia walked a fraction closer on purpose.
She glanced at him, her heart thumping, as they climbed the stairs leading to the Astronomy Tower.
Gilderoy pushed the door open. Amelia blinked, stepping forward. Floating lanterns cast a soft golden glow across the tower, highlighting a small table set on the balcony with fine dishes and gleaming silverware. Candlelight flickered against the stone walls, the table positioned directly beneath the stars.
Her eyes widened. "Gil… is this?"
Gilderoy's chest swelled. "Yes. I… thought we deserved something special. Just us. No classes, no chaos, no… well, you know. Just stars, food, and…" He hesitated, a small smile spreading. "Me, of course."
Amelia laughed, walking closer. "Of course. You really went all out, didn't you?"
He pulled out her chair for her with an exaggerated bow, nearly tipping over himself in the process. "Only the best for my Amy," he said, voice lighter than he felt.
They sat, the quiet hum of night flies around them. Gilderoy could hardly stop smiling. He watched her face in the candlelight — the way her eyes sparkled, how her red hair caught the glow, the gentle curve of her smile — and felt warmth that made him forget the rest of the castle entirely.
Conversation flowed easily. They spoke of minor things: favorite spells, her plans to become an Auror, his training with Flitwick. Gilderoy found himself leaning closer, hands occasionally brushing, their laughter mingling with the soft hum of floating candles.
Amelia leaned against the railing of the corridor, watching him with a playful smirk. "You've been practicing, haven't you?"
Gilderoy shrugged, nonchalant, but a faint smile tugged at his lips. "Maybe a little. Why do you ask?"
"You've been… different," she said. "Confident. Controlled."
He raised a brow and flicked his fingers subtly. The nearby floating candles flickered and arranged themselves into a neat circle around her. Her eyes widened slightly.
"Wow. Wandless?" she asked, impressed.
"Surprise," he said, brushing it off with a grin. "Just a little trick I picked up."
She laughed softly. "You're showing off."
"Not showing off," he replied, keeping the grin. "Merely… demonstrating progress."
Amelia shook her head, amusement dancing in her eyes. "Careful, Lockhart. You might make me think you're trying to impress me."
Gilderoy's grin widened, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Oh, Amelia… if that's the case, I hope I'm succeeding."
Oh, you definitely are… and I'm not complaining—keep it up," she said, leaning a little closer, eyes sparkling.
Amelia paused, a playful tilt to her head. "Do you always plan things this… meticulously?" she asked between bites of roasted chicken, with a mischievous glint in her eye.
"Only when it's important," he said, tone teasing but honest. "Some things deserve perfection. Some people… deserve perfection." He caught himself, heart pounding.
Too much? No. She has to hear it.
Amelia's cheeks coloured slightly, a soft laugh escaping. "You're impossible," she said, shaking her head. "But I like it. You make even sappy things feel… nice."
Amelia leaned her head on his shoulder. "You really did all this by yourself?"
"I had… a little help," he said, nodding subtly in thanks toward the elves who had vanished quietly into the shadows. "But yes. Every detail.."
Her hand found his, fingers intertwining. "Gilderoy… thank you. This is…" She paused, searching for words. "perfect."
He pressed a gentle kiss to the top of her hand. "Perfect is what you make it, Amelia. You."
Something snapped inside her.
Amelia didn't give herself time to think. She closed the distance in one decisive movement, hands catching his collar as she pulled him into a deep, unguarded kiss—one that spoke far more clearly than words ever could.
They parted just enough to breathe; Amelia's gaze was clear and chosen, no longer merely shy. With one firm tug at his arm, she drew him from the Astronomy Tower balcony, moving with the quiet confidence of someone who had decided and would not be stopped.
---
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