allendalepharm Chapter 178 A Man Like Him
Chapter 178 A Man Like Him
Chapter 178 A Man Like Him
Now that the matter was settled, Professor McGonagall had something to say.
After everyone left the infirmary, she called Lockhart over and led him to her office.
"Professor Kettleburn has been approaching me and Dumbledore, hoping to resign from his position in the Magical Creatures Protection Department, always bringing up his numerous injuries."
Is such that.
The old professor only has one and a half limbs left, so he has every reason to want to resign.
It would be inappropriate for Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry to force unwilling people to become professors.
As the vice principal in charge of most of the school's affairs, Professor McGonagall was naturally also troubled by this problem. "He recently came to me hoping to teach Defense Against the Dark Arts next academic year, but we all know that this professorship is always prone to unexpected events, and his health may not be able to withstand such a strain."
Lockhart chuckled as he recalled the amusing old man. "He's not too old or tired to want to leave; he's too passionate. You could put him in charge of the adventure areas, and I dare say he'll never say he wants to leave Hogwarts again."
Where can you find more interesting adventures in the Dragon Sanctuary than at Hogwarts?
With the support of professors from various disciplines, the adventures at Hogwarts are definitely richer and more wondrous than any dragon-protected adventure.
Not to mention, a large number of students are happy to play such adventure games with him, and they are having so much fun that they don't want to leave.
Professor McGonagall paused for a moment, then laughed. "Yes, there, he was as lively as a little boy."
But regardless of whether Professor Kettleburn is willing to take the risk, it seems that the Magical Creatures Conservation class really doesn't want to teach anymore.
"I don't know if you'd be interested in teaching this course?"
McGonagall looked at Lockhart with some anticipation.
"Me?" Lockhart pointed at himself in disbelief. "Fantastic Beasts Protection Class? Do you think that's appropriate? I'm absolutely terrible at that!"
That's the truth. Take the winged demon he was raising, for example. It was only kept alive by occasionally discarding some unwanted memories. You can't really say he raised it well.
He didn't actually know that much about the habits of magical creatures.
"You've substituted for Professor Kettleburn a few times before, and I found you to be a good teacher." Professor McGonagall had observed this beforehand.
"That's just teaching from the textbook, which seems like enough. But Professor McGonagall, you can't expect to train an excellent magizoologist through this kind of teaching method; it's far from sufficient," Lockhart retorted.
He gestured towards the Forbidden Forest outside the window, "Instead of someone like me, you'd be better off going to Hagrid. He's far more skilled with magical creatures."
Fantastic Beasts Conservation actually has many sub-disciplines. One type is encyclopedic academic giants like Professor Kettleburn, who are often invited at great expense to provide guidance at various dragon farms or fantastic beast breeding farms.
Then there's Newt Scamander, who takes the path of magical creature conservation. No one understands better than him how to properly care for endangered magical creatures so they can continue to survive.
The last category is like Hagrid, who breeds magical creatures. This is actually the most magical category. Wizards like him will greatly expand the depth and breadth of magical creature conservation.
Academic research, preservation, and cultivation—none of these apply to Lockhart.
"Rupert Hagrid..." Professor McGonagall frowned slightly. "He's probably not very suitable to teach young wizards."
"He's the one who can train magizoologists!" Lockhart retorted. "Of course, I know that untalented wizards might perform poorly under his guidance, but talented ones will quickly enter the wondrous magical realm of magizo conservation."
"I understand what you mean, but I have to be responsible for all the young wizards." Professor McGonagall looked at Lockhart seriously. "I don't agree with the idea of talent. Every young wizard should have enough opportunities to grow, and they should all have a future full of infinite possibilities."
She knew Professor Lockhart. Although the young professor agreed with the idea of talent, he didn't care about talent. He valued the role of the mind in the magical field and believed that everyone's mind was great and everyone's magical path was full of possibilities.
She knew Lockhart would agree with her words.
"Why me?" Lockhart still didn't understand; he really wasn't good at magizoology.
"Professor Kettleburn recommended you to me," Professor McGonagall said with a smile. "He said that the Dragon's Den Rabbits approve of you, and that you possess a talent in this area that you yourself are not even aware of."
Lockhart was starting to lose his composure.
Dragon Cave Rabbit?
Should we let a rabbit decide who should be the professor?
Lockhart suddenly realized that the forest witch's magical talent was actually more suited to embarking on this magical path.
So that's how it is...
Maybe we should really give it a try?
Lockhart wasn't necessarily set on the path of cultivating dark magic creatures; in fact, he believed he should live in this magical world for hundreds of years and try his hand at all sorts of things.
The field of magical creatures actually has many similarities with dark magic creatures.
"I can't give you a definite answer right now." Lockhart made his decision. There was still a month left in summer vacation, so maybe he could try to get in touch with it. If it really was interesting, he wouldn't mind finding some dark wizards to 'learn' the craft. "At least I'll know whether I can teach it after school starts."
Professor McGonagall nodded. "Okay."
She has a way to get Professor Kettleburn to teach for another year or two, even if it's just for the sake of the adventure field, and she's not in a hurry to change professors next semester.
After the matter was settled, Lockhart did not rush to leave the school.
He first went to find Snape, but his friend didn't stay at school during the holidays; he guessed that Snape was probably back in Spider's End.
So he simply returned to Hogsmeade Village, ordered some drinks and roast lamb from Aberforth Dumbledore, the owner of the Hog's Head, and had a delicious dinner with his friends.
With the red cloak, the dark magic creature known as "Sack Shelter," he wasn't too worried that Voldemort would come knocking again. He slept soundly and returned to the school to pick up his apprentice Crabbe, who had finally recovered.
"Professor, was my performance terrible?" Crabbe felt guilty for not being able to help the professor.
"That's Grindelwald, son, don't dwell on it," Lockhart comforted him.
Besides, what does Crabbe know? Right now, he's only good at three spells: Apparition, Soulfire, and Warmth Healing.
"Let's go, let's continue our summer trip." Lockhart called to Crabbe and they walked together toward the skybridge where Hogwarts opened its Apparitions.
"Professor, where do we go next?" Crabbe asked curiously.
"St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Injuries!" Lockhart thought for a moment and gave his answer. One of the members of the Hibiscus Ravenclaw Alumni Association worked at this hospital. "Let's go find Naomi the Witch. She might have some patients with soul injuries, preferably those with Cruciatus Curse injuries. Let's try your Soul Campfire spell to see if it works."
Crabbe was very touched. The professor had gone to great lengths to plan his life and tried everything to guide him onto the path of magic. He was tongue-tied and didn't know how to express his gratitude.
However, the professor just smiled gently at him, patted him on the shoulder, and said, "Grow up quickly, and you will naturally be able to help me."
St. Mungo's Hospital for the Wounded and Injured is located in London, England, but it doesn't belong to the British wizarding world alone.
Built at the end of the 16th century during the period of the initial establishment of the Ministry of Magic and the transition of power in the Wizarding Council, the hospital was a place of refuge for many knights who disliked politics at the time, which contributed to its international character to some extent.
Traces of all sorts of magical schools from around the world can be found here, and one can even find voodoo practitioners using unique rituals as a means of healing.
Of course, this hospital will not be Crabbe's destination in the future.
Its requirements for recruiting healers are extremely strict and rigid. For example, when recruiting recent graduates from magic schools, they are required to have achieved "excellent" or "good" grades in at least five final wizarding level exams.
Crabbe will probably need to take extra classes for the regular wizarding level exams, and he won't even be able to meet the requirements.
Of course, sometimes this doesn't mean anything.
Lockhart saw Crabbe's talent in healing. The spell "Soul Campfire" had begun to undergo many wonderful changes in Crabbe's hands. These changes would amaze even the Forest Witch. They were a perfect example of the harmony and mutual selection between mind and magic.
We've chosen the right path.
They soon arrived at St. Mungo's Hospital for the Injuries of Magic and Wounds. Naomi the Witch was a healer who treated Muggles injured by wizarding magic; her office was on the fifth floor.
"The Cruciatus Curse..." The witch Naomi's expression turned somewhat strange. "You've come at the right time. A very famous potion master happens to be seeking a way to heal this magical injury."
"A very famous potion master?" Lockhart was puzzled as to why the other person's tone had changed.
Led by the witch Naomi, the two walked down the long hospital corridor and soon arrived at the door of a ward, where two family members seemed to be having a heated discussion.
"Who knows if he was one of the murderers who hurt my brother and sister-in-law back then? Why do you want him to help with the treatment? I don't agree!" The speaker was a tall, fat, middle-aged man with a full beard. His expression was extremely angry, even somewhat resentful.
Lockhart had met this person before, when he was receiving recognition as a "Silent Man of the Department of Mysteries" from the British Wizarding Council.
His expression immediately turned strange.
"Algi!" Beside the middle-aged man stood an old witch wearing a vulture-themed hat and an emerald-green antique dress, her face filled with sorrow. "Even the slightest chance, I cannot let it slip away!"
The middle-aged man pursed his lips and fell silent, clenching his fists tightly.
Just then, he seemed to realize someone was approaching, turned around, and paused for a moment, "Professor Lockhart?"
Lockhart smiled slightly. "Hello, Mr. Longbottom."
This is Neville's uncle, and next to him is Neville's grandmother. After everyone greeted each other, Mr. Longbottom brought up what was happening in the ward.
"Professor Lockhart, it's good that you're here. You worked with Snape at Hogwarts, right? Do you really think someone like him would be so kind as to come to me offering to heal my brother? Is there really no other ulterior motive behind his actions?"
Lockhart raised an eyebrow and looked past Mr. Longbottom toward the ward, where he was startled to see Snape looking down sadly at a patient on the bed.
Yo ~
What a coincidence!
"Yes, a man like him..." Lockhart smiled slightly, "is trying to shoulder his own guilt and mission."
(End of this chapter)