When Monday rolled around again, the Hogwarts Defense Against the Dark Arts professor uncharacteristically took two days off and even refused visitors.
Lockhart's admirers gathered outside his office, anxiously inquiring about his condition and bringing various medicines and homemade sweets.
Hermione was among them, and after also being refused entry, she brought everyone the latest news:
"Professor Lockhart injured himself when a Spell he was researching on Werewolves backfired."
The girl frowned, saying worriedly, "That's incredible! I mean—how many people would care so much about minority groups that they'd sacrifice their own health for their well-being?"
She borrowed several books on potion-making, hoping to find a way to help the professor recover sooner.
Harry's lips moved silently, as if he wanted to say something, but he held back.
Harry had already decided Lockhart was a complete fraud, but Hermione held a different opinion.
Michael, meanwhile, raised an eyebrow at Wade.
Privately, he asked incredulously, "Lockhart didn't report it to Dumbledore?"
"My guess is—he doesn't want anyone to know he couldn't even handle a second-year student?" Wade said casually.
Michael nodded, then added, "It was really smart of you to take that photo. Someone like Professor Lockhart, who cares so much about his image, definitely wouldn't want that picture in the newspaper, right?"
Despite what he said, Michael was actually a little nervous about offending the professor.
When Lockhart reappeared after recovering, Michael was always quietly observing him, his heart in his throat during class, worried about being singled out for trouble.
Though if such a scene did occur, Wade would surely ask the professor for "magical guidance" again, but if he beat the professor into such a sorry state in public again, he would definitely be in trouble.
Surprisingly, Lockhart didn't seem to be planning revenge. Instead, he always avoided direct eye contact with the two, though sometimes he looked as if he wanted to speak but couldn't.
Michael was on high alert.
This was someone who would use an Obliviation Charm on a student behind their back; even if his Spell-casting wasn't great, he was still dangerous.
"Why did Dumbledore hire him as a professor?"
Michael couldn't help but complain to Wade, "Our Defense Against the Dark Arts is basically self-study. We'd be better off without this kind of professor!"
"You won't have to put up with it for much longer," Wade said. "He'll be leaving the school soon, and he might even end up in Azkaban."
Michael's eyes lit up: "What did you do?"
"What could I do? I'm at school," Wade said, speechless. "It's Sirius... Do you remember when Lockhart removed the bones from Harry's arm? Sirius was furious back then; he's been looking for a way to get back at him ever since!"
Lupin had told Wade this a couple of days ago.
The joint operation to catch Dark Wizards hadn't been very effective, and Sirius was still feeling down about Regulus.
To cheer his friend up, Lupin brought up old times. When Lockhart was mentioned, Sirius's anger flared:
"He can't even get a simple healing Spell right? There must be something fishy about his big reputation! Once I get some dirt on him, I'll make him taste Azkaban too!"
Sirius rushed off to investigate Lockhart, and Lupin temporarily withdrew from the joint operation to help Sirius.
"Won't that delay important matters?" Michael couldn't help but ask.
"No," Wade shook his head. "We haven't gotten any useful leads in over ten days. Lupin said that the elites gathered from various countries have pretty much dispersed, and now the only ones still involved are mostly rookies and those just biding their time."
Of course, there were also politicians looking to score some political points.
Almost every day, you could open the Daily Prophet and see one or two familiar faces standing with officials from foreign Ministries of Magic, flashing a forced smile at the readers.
Wade was starting to feel sorry for Dumbledore—dealing with such people all day must feel like an eternity.
Compared to the increasingly bloated and sluggish "joint operation," the investigation by the dog-and-wolf duo was exceptionally smooth.
Most of the clues were in Lockhart's own books, Dumbledore also seemed to "casually" provide some useful information, and Wade even approved a large sum of "investigation funds" for Lupin.
"I beat Lockhart up," he told Lupin.
"For some reason, Lockhart has to put up with it for now, but he'll definitely try to get revenge later. I don't want to wait until I'm at a disadvantage to fight back, so it's best to get him out of school before he comes up with any bad ideas."
Lupin agreed with his "strike first" approach, though he gently criticized his deplorable behavior towards the professor.
In any case, they quickly gathered enough evidence to prove that Lockhart had never actually fought dangerous creatures like Werewolves, Yetis, Banshees, or Ghouls, as he had boasted in his books.
He had merely stolen the stories from elderly heroes and erased their memories with powerful Obliviation Charms.
Lockhart was completely unaware of the undercurrents swirling around him. He had his pet Crab stand guard for several days and finally found an opportunity to corner Wade, who was leaving the Library alone.
"Professor?"
Wade said politely, looking up at him.
Meeting those eyes, Lockhart immediately felt his whole body ache, and his scalp tingled, as if he was back to the moment he saw the other perform silent, wandless magic.
Such a powerful Spell, cast out of thin air...
Lockhart had only ever seen himself perform this scene in his dreams.
His heart trembled, and the words he was about to speak became even more humble.
"Mr. Gray, I… uh… I think I should apologize… for my reckless behavior earlier…"
Lockhart stammered, "I thought you wouldn't mind a photo… Of course, I should have asked for your permission first… I-I'm so sorry…"
He probably rarely apologized, as his face was already flushed before he even finished his sentences.
Wade sighed.
"Alright, I accept your apology. Is there anything else, Professor?"
The moment Lockhart heard him speak so politely, he felt an urge to flee.
That day, Wade had also called him "Professor, Professor," while repeatedly smashing him against the wall like a football.
But just as he started to move his foot, Lockhart remembered his purpose and forced himself to stay put, stammering,
"That… the photos you took that day…"
"It was just a joke, I thought you wouldn't mind a photo…"
Wade's words sounded eerily familiar.
"Of course—"
The boy slowly said, "If you have an issue, it's not impossible for me to return it."
Lockhart saw hope, and his voice rose slightly, "Really? I mean—do you need anything in exchange? Galleons? Or I could arrange a major role for you in my next book…"
"No thanks. You can continue to ignore me."
Wade pulled out a pre-prepared envelope and handed it to Lockhart.
The blond professor seemed unable to believe it could be so simple. He opened the envelope, looked inside, and visibly relaxed.
"Oh, good, I thought you were trying to extort something… Cough, cough…"
Lockhart coughed twice, almost choking on his own saliva.
"Professor Lockhart."
A sinister voice came from behind the blond professor, startling him. He turned to see Filch, hunched over, standing in the shadows, his face drawn.
"There are some girls looking for you everywhere…"
Filch's voice was as lifeless as ever, but Lockhart was delighted.
"Is that so? Thank you for telling me, Mr. Filch. Oh dear… famous people become as busy as I am…"
He seemed to complain with an air of annoyance, then hurried off with the envelope, saying goodbye. Even long after he left, he still felt a chill down his spine.
"Peculiar students, peculiar caretaker… After all these years, Hogwarts is still so unlikable, they simply can't comprehend my greatness…"
Lockhart muttered, rubbing the goosebumps on his arms.
Touching the envelope in his embrace, he immediately felt much more at ease, feeling as if he had endured humiliation to resolve a major crisis in his life.
"Ah… I've been too low-profile lately, and life has become boring… I need applause, I need attention, I need the adoring gazes of young girls… Wait, isn't Valentine's Day coming soon?"
Suddenly, some brilliant "good ideas" popped into Lockhart's mind, and his steps became lighter.
…
In the corridor, Wade looked at Filch in front of him.
Filch spent his days battling wits with the Gryffindors and Peeves, and had very little interaction with Ravenclaw.
But every day, students could see him standing somewhere like a vulture, staring at everyone with dangerous, disgusted eyes.
He seemed to equally despise all students, and was hated by them in return.
But at this moment, Filch had surprisingly tidied himself up a bit, looking somewhat awkward, and tightly clutching a worn-out lizard-skin pouch in his hand.
"Did you deliberately help me out just now, Mr. Filch?" Wade asked.
"Ah, yes!" Filch rubbed his cane and said, "Professor Lockhart seems to have been asking about your whereabouts these past few days… I saw him corner you just now, so I came to… um… to help…"
It seemed difficult for him to actively show goodwill; Filch almost closed his eyes as he finished speaking.
"Thank you for your help." Wade responded understandingly.
"It-it's nothing."
Filch quickly glanced at Wade, relaxing slightly due to his friendly demeanor, and said,
"I heard some students say… they said you invented a Crab that can help with cleaning… I went to Diagon Alley, but they weren't for sale… I mean, if possible, could you… sell me a few? Of course, if there's only one… one would be fine too…"
He raised the lizard-skin pouch in his hand slightly, and the sound of metal clinking came from inside.
The old man looked at Wade with a hopeful gaze.
Only one chapter today.
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