The slacker professor at Hogwarts

Chapter 155 Say My Name!

Chapter 155 Say My Name!

The flames in the fireplace burned, radiating a warm glow, but they couldn't dispel the surrounding mist.

Gore seemed a little bored. He would sit in the corner from time to time, staring blankly at the few people who seemed to have turned to stone. He would stand up from time to time and look into the mist, trying to find out what the shadowy figures inside were. He would also try to talk to Crabbe from time to time.

Crabbe's recent behavior has been quite strange. He often stares blankly at the fireplace flames and has even stopped liking to eat all sorts of delicious food, which makes him feel somewhat unfamiliar.

He opened his mouth, but ultimately chose not to speak to the dazed Crabbe.

Boredom consumed him, and he began to fidget, carefully taking out half a sausage from his pocket and nibbling at it.

Yes, be very careful, because he only had time to stuff half a sausage into his pocket, and if he ate it too fast, it would be gone in no time.

However, time seemed to have become a meaningless entity.

Apart from the ticking of the enormous clock, he could no longer sense the passage of time.

Then, at some unexpected juncture, he became agitated and tried to change something. He walked around among the statues, looking down at the various props placed on the ground.

There were three books on the ground. One of them looked old and thick, and had no title, but he recognized it as the fairy tale book that Professor Lockhart used to create adventure scenes.

The second book appeared to be a diary, which he avoided at a distance. Firstly, he was never interested in other people's private matters, and secondly, he had a gut feeling that he should stay away from this diary. He trusted his intuition; old Gore had always advised him that "the innocent should trust their intuition," and he always obediently followed his advice.

The last book's cover read "Breaking Up with the Ghost," and it was the textbook for Defense Against the Dark Arts class, which Goyle recognized. Having participated in the compilation of "Where Are the Dark Magic Creatures?" with the "Duel Club," he also knew that the ghost wasn't a phantom, but a banshee.

Professor Lockhart describes this figure as a dark magical creature often associated with old witches, mentioning that "the banshee is not the one who decides death, but rather arrives after death. The reason everyone believes she is a prophet of death, arriving early to announce the bad news is because death actually comes much earlier than that."

Death comes much earlier than death—which Harry, Draco, and even the smarter Hermione would hardly understand, but Goyle did.

Yes, he and Crabbe were probably the first to understand Lockhart's words, because they had heard the proverb from the fairy tale that Draco's mother, Narcissa, had mentioned when she told the three of them bedtime stories since they were little.

—Some people are irreversibly heading towards death, so death becomes predictable.

Gore seemed somewhat saddened, a sadness stemming from his own powerlessness in the face of the current situation. Crabbe's parents were already dying, and were his own parents also irrevocably heading towards death? Even he and Crabbe were in the same boat?

His dull mind was completely incapable of providing him with any thought or decision-making, so the insights brought about by such spirituality only made him more uncomfortable.

Draco always thought that fools couldn't feel sadness, and at least Goyle rarely showed such emotions in front of Draco. But now, alone with Draco, he could no longer suppress his feelings.

Fortunately, his attention was quickly drawn to something else, as he always is.

"what?"

Gore rubbed his eyes in confusion, looking at the textbook in front of him with some bewilderment. The words on it seemed to be twisting and changing rapidly like tadpoles.

From "Breaking Up with the Female Ghost" to "Breaking Up with Tom," then to "The Lonely Crack," and then to "Escape from Death," "Choose One: Loneliness or Death," and "Death and Eternal Torment"...

Somewhat puzzled, he picked up the book and found that the constantly changing words on it eventually settled into "The Banshee of Bandon, Ireland," flickered a few times, and then changed back to "Breaking Up with the Ghost."

He was a little confused and wanted to open the textbook to see if it was still the same content as before.

"What are you doing!"

An angry voice rebuked him.

Goyle was startled and quickly put the book back in its original place. He then gently wiped the parts of the book that he hadn't actually dirtied with the sleeve of his wizard's robe. When he turned around, he saw Crabbe.

"Hey buddy, don't get so worked up, I'm just looking." Gore said, sounding a little annoyed.

"I advise you not to make any rash moves. We don't know what will happen next, and there's nothing we can do to change it. All we can do is do what we're supposed to do and follow orders." Crabbe looked coldly at Goyle, his voice growing louder.

Goyle stood up angrily. "Don't you find it ridiculous to bring up your father's advice to us now? Vincent, you've changed. You used to obediently follow Draco's orders like I did, but now you're becoming more and more opinionated!"

Crabbe fell silent.

"Loyalty isn't absolute; it's absolute disloyalty. Your father said that, do you remember?" Goyle stepped over Harry and approached Crabbe. "Vincent, if we lose our loyalty, Malfoy won't protect us anymore!"

Silence, an unexpected silence.

After an unknown amount of time, Crabbe turned back to look at the flames in the campfire, and said with a strange expression, "I just want to live, Gregory. You can understand me, right?"

"No, I don't understand!" Gore glared at him fiercely. "Do you remember the words on that painting in my house? Those who dare not face death die the fastest."

"If you don't believe Malfoy can protect you and keep you alive, then you won't get protection!"

Crabbe turned to look at him, then suddenly laughed. "What if I'm no longer willing to follow Malfoy's orders? What if I want to embark on my own magical path?"

Goyle stared at him in disbelief. "We're all idiots. Idiots wanting to walk their own magical path? Are you out of your mind from not eating? I should have left that sausage for you!"

"I'm not stupid, I'm just dumb!" Crabbe looked at him coldly. "Only you would think you're a fool, because Draco always says you're a fool, so you, the loyal guy, believed it and became a real fool."

Gore was beyond furious. He roared, "This is betrayal! This is a shameful betrayal!"

As he spoke, he charged at Crabbe like a bull, swinging his thick arms. His strength was so great that he slammed both of them into the fireplace behind them in an instant, where they were engulfed by the eerie two-colored flames.

They were not burned to death.

Instead, they were drawn into Lockhart's bizarre ritual, falling into a vortex of time as the clock ticked.

Adventure is an extremely interesting and dangerous journey. Lockhart facilitated the adventure and provided sufficient guidance, but he was unable to write a narrative of the adventure itself.

Because it's never a stage play where people play roles; it's full of surprises.

These unexpected events, however, became the very opportunity for magic to blossom.

……

Ireland, Banden, a past time that may still exist.

A remote island with few outsiders due to the legend of the harbinger of death.

On the island lived a carefree, happy, and uneventful young man whom everyone called "Little Lockhart." He was always very happy.

Even though he often heard terrifying artillery fire from outside the island while herding cattle along the coast, he only complained to his friends for a few minutes before continuing to immerse himself in his ordinary and leisurely life.

However, he hasn't been happy these past few days.

His good friend Riddle announced in the tavern that he was breaking up with him and would no longer be his friend.

This was utterly baffling. He questioned the other party, eager for an answer, but even so, he received no response.

This friend was so resolute that he publicly declared that if Lockhart spoke another word to him, Riddle, he would cut off one of his fingers to show his determination to sever ties, continuing to do so until Lockhart never spoke to him again.

Lockhart actually had some suspicions. He believed that some people who had fled the war from outside the island had come to spread rumors about the war there, saying that two close brothers had broken up and fought because of their different political choices, and that his good friend Riddle, who had never been one to stay at home, had become obsessed with this "trend," which was why he planned to break off their friendship.

That day, he dug out his long-unused wand, intending to teach that stranger a lesson.

If it weren't for his sister Hermione holding him back...

Yes, if it weren't for his sister, he would definitely have taught that outsider a lesson!

"You can't go! I saw the banshee appear beside you. Doing this will only bring terrible consequences!" That's what her sister said, adding that if Lockhart ignored her advice and went, she would definitely turn around and leave the house.

Huh~

My younger sister had wanted to leave this house for a long time. She hated her ordinary life and longed to go to the more interesting island beyond, even though a terrible war was taking place there.

She always felt out of place on the island, preferring to read useless books and learn knowledge she would never use in her life, thus creating a terrible and insurmountable chasm between herself and everyone else.

So Lockhart didn't go; he didn't want to lose his sister.

Or rather, he didn't know how to face life without his sister. He had long been used to her presence; she was the family member he cared about most.

"Damn outsider!" Lockhart pulled out his binoculars and glared angrily at the outsider in the distance who was talking to his good friend Riddle with his head down. His name was supposedly Coban Yaxley.

He watched as the two of them got into the carriage, chatting and laughing, and then their eyes narrowed.

What are you saying?

He really wanted to know.

He soon realized that the magic had responded to him, and the breeze carried the distant sound to him.

Riddle asked, "You know me?"

Coban Yaxley replied, "Yes, I have heard about your story from many people. Even though you are in a corner of the world right now, I am willing to follow you and walk with you to the most brilliant stage in the world."

Oh~

Listen to this!

Listen to this!

Lockhart felt utterly disgusted. A restless person had met a restless follower, and this would cause him to completely lose this friend with whom he could talk about anything.

He slammed his fist on the table in anger, continuing to listen to the sounds carried by the wind.

Riddle then said, "Say My Name!"

Coban Yaxley replied, "You are the great Gilderoy Riddle! I worship you as my Lord!"

Riddle's lips curled into a slight smile. "This is truly interesting!"

……

"An interesting topic." Gilderoy Riddle looked down at his reflection in the puddles on the ground, his brow slightly raised. "When my body is Riddle, my magic is Riddle, my bloodline is Riddle, and even..."

He exclaimed in amazement, "My brain, my thoughts, every bubble that pops into my head, all belong to Riddle."

"Currently, tell me, am I Riddle?"

Koban was somewhat confused. He didn't know why this powerful wizard, who was believed in and supported by many people, would ask him such a question.

Of course, what puzzled him even more was that he had no idea how to answer such a seemingly foolish question.

Is this an interview?

What was the assessment of him?

What should he say?

Fortunately, Gilderoy Riddle did not actually ask him to answer the question. Instead, he said meaningfully, "No, I am not Riddle. Even my thoughts prove that I am Riddle, but my heart is not. My heart belongs to me."

"Of course, I need some real recognition from 'society' so that I can reap the most valuable rewards from this interesting journey of life."

As he spoke, he looked at the student, "Remember my name—Voldemort!"

"Voldemort?" Coban was somewhat bewildered. He suddenly realized that he might have made a mistake by approaching this big shot. His supposedly brilliant mind was simply no match for the other man's pace.

"Yes, it means 'flying away from death'!" Gilderoy's voice was full of strange tones.

"Voldemort!" The erudite man had no choice but to play along with his boss's neurotic behavior and respectfully address him by his name.

"Excellent!" Gilderoy exclaimed, squinting at his hands. He could feel an extremely unfamiliar magical bloodline suddenly being born within him.

The feeling was somewhat like the sudden appearance of werewolf blood, but even more eerie than wolf venom.

This is……

Snake voice?

He carefully sensed the magical state influenced by the surging magical bloodline within his body, savoring every detail.

(End of this chapter)