Dear Headmaster;

For years now, I have been pondering exactly why a wizard of your caliber has never risen to, shall we say, a higher position of responsibility. Headmaster of Hogwarts is a title that does bring a certain prestige, not to mention the chance at molding the future of tomorrow. And yet, surely the position of Minister of Magic had been open to you, had you desired it? The Head of the Magic Law Enforcement, sense your sense of justice was so widely known? Ambassador to some great foreign state?

Well, I'm glad to say that yesterday's staff meeting has cleared the issue up nicely. You're more fit for a jacket with extra-long sleeves and a room with rubber walls than you are for any form of office. Presumably, you realized that in a public position, people would quickly catch on that your quirky eccentricities were mere camoflauge for the blithering insanity that storms hourly inside your head.

Why in the name of God are you hiring Gilderoy Lockhart? I thought better of you, Albus.

Allow me to express my objections in a more orderly fashion:

One, he's a celebrity. This alone should be enough to disqualify him. Half the females in the student body will be indulging in lewd fantasies when they should be paying attention to their studies. The other half will be responsible enough to save their fantasies for their off time. Even apart from the inevitable declinine in coursework, the potential for serious abuse of position on Lockhart's end is enough to give one pause. You realize that you're giving an egotist a measure of personal power over a horde of hormonally unbalanced teenagers? There is a serious risk of lawsuit on the horizon.

Two, I am not even convinced that he understands the subject matter at all. His loathsome book Chatting with Chupracabras, though in this case I stretch the word "book" to its breaking point, was shot through with more errors than I could count. No, literally. Halfway through I hurled the book against the wall hard enough that I dislodged one of the stones embedded in the wall. I then restarted and kept a running tally of every blatant impossiblity and mistake he made. Once I reached #89 (the brujas in Central America have not practiced blood sacrifice in at least 1,500 years), and saw that I was only on page 70, I burned the book and inhaled the ashes. Those ashes smelled like vengeance and vindication. In short, Lockhart is possibly the least qualified human being in the hemisphere to teach any subject other than Intro to Primping like a Pimp.

Three, in the course of writing this letter he owled me. He's very excited about his new position as the teacher of Defense against the Dark Arts, and wishes to start up a duelling club with himself teaching and me assisting. If he is actually serious (and God save him, I think he is), I will kill him. End of story.

I have fought in more battles then I can remember, and survived every one of them. I know more about the Dark Arts than anybody without a Dark Mark. And he doesn't know the difference between a spell and a curse (#36, just because Enrico Disarmed you doesn't mean he Cursed you. Expelliarmus is a SPELL, dumbass). And I am assisting him.

There is a rare herb found only in certain Ukranian forests. It's called the Creeping Knife, and it was not so named due to ignorance or irony. Slavic warlocks have used it in assassinations for centuries. It is specially prized because of its effects, which include; extreme nausea; unbearable pains in the joints of the fingers, elbows and knees; migraine headaches; blindess; stomach hemorraghing resulting in vomiting blood; depression (hardly surprising); and after an uncomfortably long wait, death.

If you do not send an owl this istant telling him that the offer to teach here has been withdrawn, I shall slip this herb into Lockhart's morning tea. If you think I'm bluffing, just go on ahead and send him a letter in my stead saying that I would be happy to assist him with his little scheme. Just don't ask me to clean the walls and floors when I'm done with him.

Also, I have been meditating on our discuss last July as to the Potter boy. Perhaps I have been, shall we say, hasty in my judgement of him. It's clear that while he does have a certain troubling disregard of all authority figures, he means well at least. I am prepared to offer him a fresh start in my books. My opinion of him will be based on his behaviour starting the second he walks off that train. So as long as he doesn't, say, assassinate the Minister of Magic, or set fire to Hogwarts, or shatter the Statute of Secrecy or something, he will be treated exactly like any other student in this school.

Regards,
Severus Snape