allendalepharm Chapter 168 The Strange Visitor
Chapter 168 The Strange Visitor
Chapter 168 The Strange Visitor
Time slips away quietly.
In the days that followed, nothing strange happened at Hogwarts, which was actually the norm for a magic school.
Magic is indeed dangerous, but the presence of professors and other magical masters gives them the ability to handle all sorts of trouble and disasters caused by students.
Before we knew it, it was the last day of May.
This day seemed to be a clear watershed moment, distinguishing the young wizards' school life from one of less laughter and more busyness.
The Academy Cup Quidditch tournament has ended.
The individual, small team, and academy fairytale adventures of the Academy Cup have come to an end, and the adventure grounds built on the edge of the Forbidden Forest have been sealed off by Professor McGonagall's powerful magic, preventing young wizards from entering again.
In June, fifth-grade wizards will take the "Ordinary Wizarding Level Exam," which will determine whether they will enter the "NEWT Advanced Class" or the regular classes, as well as their course selection preferences for the following sixth grade.
The seventh-grade wizards will also face the "Ultimate Wizarding Level Exam," and their exam results will determine their chances of getting more job opportunities in society, and could even be said to determine their future.
Other grades that did not participate in these two exams will also enter the final exam period. Exams will be held in the first week of June, and results will be released the night before students leave school in the second week.
Whether it's Harry Potter, who believes adventure is everything, or the Weasley twins, who believe invention is the future, they all have to put aside their restless minds and focus on this exam.
Hogwarts has always maintained high standards for its teaching.
Magic essays in each subject are written from the first year to the seventh year, with theoretical and practical classes running in parallel, constantly exploring all the possibilities for students in each field.
Seven years of instruction is enough for a talented young wizard to embark on their own magical path, and also enough for a mediocre young wizard to recognize their limitations and begin to think about their own future.
The release of a large amount of mental power, emotions, desires, will, and other mental energy makes the young wizards appear exceptionally mature, unlike Muggle children of the same age. Many sixth and seventh-grade wizards have already decided on their future life partners at this stage.
Well, that's about sixteen or seventeen years old, which is something many Muggles can hardly imagine.
Lockhart, having nothing better to do lately, flipped through the manuscripts he had accumulated since becoming a professor at Hogwarts and discovered that a book project had been shelved: "The Story I Had to Tell with the Savior: My Time as a Professor at Hogwarts".
This book became almost superfluous after he successfully researched the magic "Thunderstorm Mountain Fire" and established himself as a master magician.
The original owner's planned life path began to deviate from his own plans.
Or you could say that he no longer needs to climb the ladder by using the title of savior, nor does he necessarily need to participate in Harry Potter's fairytale adventures.
He was no longer the clueless newcomer who only had a reputation to rely on, wielding a magic wand as if he were chopsticks.
He has his own fairytale adventures.
So the book's title was changed again: My Time as a Professor at Hogwarts.
He pieced together some notes, including his observations of the differences between young wizards and Muggle children of the same age, and used this perspective to think about the differences between wizards and Muggles.
He is not in a hurry to write a book; he simply keeps the writing habit in mind and records it. Perhaps it will be published in the future, or perhaps it will just be left as a fragmented manuscript.
Lockhart had to admit that he had quietly entered a new phase of his life.
Even though they haven't yet stepped down from their professorship.
Since he no longer needed to instruct the young wizards at the Duel Club in the evenings, and the NEWT Enhancement Class had been discontinued, he returned to his new home in Hogsmeade Village almost every night.
The trees in the school office were finally driven away and deformed, returning to their original state as an office.
When Snape came to the office one day and saw this scene, he felt a little reluctant. It was rare to have such a friend in life, and it seemed that one day soon he would also be leaving the school.
"Life is still very long," Lockhart said nonchalantly. "I plan to live for hundreds of years, and there's plenty of time ahead of me."
"And you, my friend, if you stop dwelling on the past, your life is just beginning."
Lockhart had been at Hogwarts for almost a year and was 28 years old, while Snape was only 32.
This is clearly another major difference between Muggles and wizards. Wizards mature early, and those with the ability can live much longer. Such internal dynamics within a group are sometimes difficult to explain using Muggle social theories.
Snape clearly didn't like talking about it, and he instinctively grabbed a small glass bottle hanging from his collar drawstring, which contained his regret pill.
Perhaps, after he embarks on his own life, gains the power to defeat Voldemort, and takes revenge himself, he will drink the potion of regret, return to the time when he spent his days and nights with his Patronus doe, and never move forward again.
But...
Having found self-redemption, will he really still head towards self-destruction?
Lockhart smiled and offered no comment.
Life is long, my friend.
Next, all the professors entered their busiest period.
At this point, Professor Kettleburn, the Magical Creatures Protection Professor, could no longer serve as Lockhart's teaching assistant, and the upperclassmen could no longer help him. He had to personally take charge of every exam on defense against dark magic during the exam season.
Theoretical exam, graded; practical exam, graded.
I'm busy until very late every day.
However, on this busy day, before the exams were over, Lockhart returned to his house in Hogsmeade Village under the moonlight. Before he even got home, he saw the lights on in the house in the distance.
"!!!"
Lockhart's expression hardened. He slowly drew his wand from his hand, then held it upside down and tucked it into the wide sleeve of his wizard's robe. He exchanged a glance with the fairy who had died unjustly and was chatting idly beside him, signaling her to hide in the red magic cloak before continuing to walk towards the small building.
The wind and snow howled, and Hogsmeade Village was quiet in the dead of night.
Upon arriving at the small building, one can see the door wide open, and a person dressed in a black wizard's robe and wearing a wide hood is sitting elegantly on the sofa, flipping through his book "Where Are the Dark Magic Creatures?" which is placed in the living room.
"Gidero Lockhart..."
The man seemed to sense the newcomer's presence. His voice was deep and muffled, accompanied by an extremely eerie shrill sound. He gently placed the book on the small round table beside him, looked up at the man standing in the doorway, and elegantly gestured to the sofa next to him with his hand, which was wrapped in bandages like a mummy's. "Sit."
Inside the wide hood was a bizarre face wrapped up like a mummy, with only a pair of deep eyes that faintly shimmered with red light visible in their sockets.
"Tom..."
Lockhart's expression was somewhat grave.
"Tom?" the man murmured the name, seemingly with a touch of melancholy. "It's been so long since anyone called me that."
"I still prefer to be called Voldemort."
Lockhart rolled his eyes. "Come on, you're putting a curse on your own name. How are people supposed to address you?"
Voldemort chuckled, a chilling laugh. "Those who don't even dare to call me by my name, what right do they have to address me by it?"
Emmm...
That seems to make sense.
Lockhart raised an eyebrow, casually closed the door to block out the wind and snow, then walked briskly forward and sat down on the sofa with equal elegance.
His elegance was different from Voldemort's.
Old Voldemort looks like a dozing tiger or a hibernating venomous snake, elegant yet dangerous, while Lockhart's elegance lies in the freedom of the mind, appearing more languid and light, like a bird perched atop a towering tree.
"I'm sorry, I've had a busy day, and I don't have any house-elves at home, so I can't offer you tea," Lockhart said casually, glancing at the other person. "I wonder if you...
"I sense that you did something to me," Voldemort said in a low voice, "something I don't know, but I can feel the changes in myself."
Lockhart was taken aback. "Really? You must be mistaken. I don't have that ability. Maybe it's Professor Dumbledore?"
"I can feel it!" Voldemort's gaze was icy, fixed intently on Lockhart. "You don't need to explain yourself. My statement is the final explanation. You just need to tell me what you did."
As soon as he finished speaking, he suddenly groaned, clutching his head in pain, and his body began to swell uncontrollably.
He began to breathe heavily, and his body returned to its emaciated state.
How interesting! He is currently sealed in the body of the werewolf Fenrir Greyback by Dumbledore in a wandering spirit state, yet he has a way of transforming this sentient body into his own appearance.
And what's even more interesting is...
"Leech-of-Mind?" Lockhart asked with a hint of mockery, barely suppressing the urge to immediately draw his wand and attack.
"Damn it!" Voldemort cursed, looking at Lockhart with utter disgust. "What have you been stuffing into your head?! Are you using it as a garbage can?"
"Actually, it's not so bad. At first, I couldn't sleep well because of the noise in my head, and sometimes when I was chatting with people, my brain would get confused because of processing the audio information..." Lockhart shrugged. "But I overcame it later."
He genuinely disliked it. Old Fu, an extremely proud person, couldn't stand the idea of stuffing other people's memories into his head. In his eyes, no one's thoughts were worth entering his brain without his consideration; they were all trash.
But looking down on such practices doesn't mean he won't be on high alert. He is now extremely weak, and the strength of the person in front of him undoubtedly poses a great threat to him.
He wasn't afraid, though. At worst, the werewolf Fenrir Greyback in this body would be killed, and then he could be freed from Dumbledore's seal.
However, there were still some things he hadn't done, and he didn't want to show his weakness to anyone, so he became extremely vigilant.
He naturally had ways to find footage of Lockhart casting "Thunderstorm and Wildfire." The flashy scene was obviously not powerful enough in his eyes, but it had to be said that it was already no weaker than many Death Eaters and Order of the Phoenix members.
"Tell me the answer!" He didn't bother with beating around the bush and went straight to the point. "We're both on the path to becoming magic masters, so you should know that we can't give up on finding the answers we crave. You definitely don't want to go through all that and still have to tell me in the end. I think communication between smart people doesn't need to be so complicated. Let's skip these pointless things."
Lockhart was silent for a moment, then nodded.
"Corban Yaxley, as you know, he fell into my hands, and while I was trying to figure out how to deal with him, I don't know how he took me back to a time in the past."
"Damn 'Time Explorers,' this magical power that makes you feel so powerless is disgusting."
He said with some helplessness, "I made a friend there, but luckily I realized my mistake in time and broke off the friendship with him."
Voldemort's eyes flickered, his body twisted and contorted rapidly, his wide black wizard robes undulating eerily. In the end, he said nothing, only letting out a sneer.
Lockhart had no idea what he was laughing at, and didn't bother to guess. "I've already given you the answer. May I ask you to leave? I have to go to Hogwarts very early tomorrow to give the young wizards their exams. You know how busy that is."
"I want to make a deal with you," Voldemort said in a low voice.
"A deal?" Lockhart was taken aback.
"Corban Yaxley!" He slowly stood up. "My men ventured into the Department of Mysteries but couldn't find him, so I knew you must have hidden him."
It's not unusual for Old Voldemort to save his own men; after his resurrection, he even orchestrated a large-scale breakout from Azkaban.
The only strange thing is...
transaction?
Wow, that's really rare.
Lockhart couldn't help but recall that somewhat chaotic adventure, where things had clearly changed, and there might even be a reason why Dumbledore had done something to the Horcruxes during the full moon.
But no matter what, Voldemort has changed!
(End of this chapter)