bacchusnovels Chapter 191 Lockhart's Defenses Are Breached
Chapter 191 Lockhart's Defenses Are Breached
Chapter 191 Lockhart's Breakdown (Two Chapters Combined)
Professor Lockhart skipped and hopped into the classroom, as if his feet were made of springs, his face beaming with uncontrollable joy.
The students stared at him in astonishment, as if watching a sudden performance.
In stark contrast to the more serious atmosphere of the school, where every other teacher seemed more serious than usual, Lockhart appeared relaxed and cheerful, as if completely unaffected by the recent series of events.
"Alright, alright," he said cheerfully, looking around with his hands outstretched in a puzzled expression. "Why are you all making such long faces? Isn't life good enough?"
They exchanged annoyed glances, but no one was willing to break the silence and answer his obviously inappropriate question.
A sense of oppression permeated the classroom, a stark contrast to Lockhart's relaxed and cheerful demeanor.
"Haven't you noticed?" Lockhart said, deliberately slowing his pace, as if they were all a little slow and needed him to explain further, "the danger has passed! That dangerous criminal has been taken away, and we are safe now."
"Who are you talking about?" Dean Thomas finally couldn't help but ask loudly. His voice was full of doubt and dissatisfaction, clearly puzzled by Lockhart's statement.
"My dear young man, the Minister of Magic will not take Hagrid away unless he is 100% certain that Hagrid is guilty," Lockhart said, in a tone as matter-of-fact as if someone were explaining that one plus one equals two, without any consideration for the feelings of others.
"Oh, not necessarily," Ron couldn't help but retort, his voice even louder than Dean's.
"I'm confident I know a little more about the truth of Hagrid's arrest than you do, Mr. Weasley," Lockhart said with a smug tone, as if he possessed some secret.
Ron was about to say he didn't think so when he stopped abruptly. Harry kicked him hard under the table, signaling him to stop talking.
"We weren't there, you forgot?" Harry whispered to Ron, his voice filled with caution and vigilance.
However, Lockhart's repulsive joy, his declaration that he had long believed Hagrid was not a good person, and his statement that he believed the whole thing was over infuriated Harry, who wanted nothing more than to throw the book "Wandering with Ghouls" at Lockhart's stupid face.
However, he did not expect that something even more infuriating was yet to come.
"The female ghost resembles a woman, with long hair that trails to the ground, a skull-like face, and skin that glows green. Her screams are deadly to anyone who hears them, much like a mature mandrake."
Once the class officially began, Lockhart stood on the podium, her body ramrod straight. One hand gently rested on the edge of the podium, while the other hand gracefully waved her wand, seemingly outlining the ethereal figure of the female ghost in the air.
"Female ghosts," he began slowly, his voice deep and magnetic, each word carefully crafted to captivate every listener, "are mysterious creatures hidden in the darkness, their existence transcending time and space, shadows that linger on the edge of ancient legends and reality."
Lockhart paused slightly, glancing around to make sure every young wizard was engrossed in his story.
He continued, "You can do it on the misty moors of Ireland, or in the dark, ancient castle ruins of Scotland."
Find the traces of their past wanderings, traces that still linger with a hint of chill. Every brick and tile in these places seems to tell their untold stories.
"This creature," he said in a lower voice, drawing out almost every word to create a tense and mysterious atmosphere, "looks easy to deal with, but once you hear that soul-piercing cry—a sound that is a mixture of despair, anger, and endless sorrow—your mind will be instantly shattered. That cry is deadly."
Lockhart paused deliberately at this point, allowing the fear and curiosity to spread throughout the classroom, and the young wizards' faces showed expressions of both fear and excitement.
Then, he smiled with satisfaction and waved to Harry in the audience, saying, "Harry, please come up on stage and play the female ghost."
All eyes turned to Harry instantly, like invisible beams of light, fixing him firmly in the center of the stage.
Harry clearly saw Malfoy gloating, a barely perceptible smirk playing on his lips, his expression a silent declaration of victory, which made Harry feel even more uneasy.
Since Dumbledore left the school, the atmosphere at Hogwarts seemed to have subtly changed, and Draco Malfoy often strutted around the castle with an air of arrogance, as if he had just been officially appointed as the head of the student council or inherited some supreme honor.
Amid the commotion after class, Harry once overheard Malfoy boasting to Crabbe and Goyle, his voice filled with smugness, seemingly unconcerned about being overheard:
"I knew Father would get rid of Dumbledore," he said, his voice brimming with confidence, making no attempt to lower his voice. "Let me tell you, Father has always thought Dumbledore was the worst headmaster in Hogwarts history. His ideas and methods are outdated. And now, we finally have a decent headmaster..."
Although Harry didn't dislike Professor Sean being the headmaster, he still felt a little uncomfortable every time he heard such words come out of Malfoy's mouth.
Harry was convinced that playing a ghost in front of Malfoy would make him laugh at him for years to come. Thinking of this, Harry frowned and felt a surge of resistance.
Compared to the Yeti and vampires, the former two characters, while somewhat bizarre, are at least relatively "normal" beings.
But playing a female ghost....
Ron, sensing Harry's predicament, raised his hand and asked loudly, "Sir, why don't you apply for the headmaster's position?"
Lockhart paused for a moment, seemingly not expecting anyone to suddenly ask such a question, and the smug smile on his lips faded slightly.
He coughed lightly and looked around at the students, seemingly searching for a response that would maintain his composure without being impolite.
"Ah, Ron, that's a very good question!" Lockhart finally spoke, his voice tinged with a barely perceptible embarrassment. "You know, being the headmaster is an extremely important responsibility, requiring you to handle countless affairs and make many difficult decisions."
Then, he changed the subject, "As for me, I prefer to pour my passion and talent into my books and to directly teach you young minds."
"I believe that through my books and courses, I can inspire more people and have a wider impact—this is my unique contribution to Hogwarts and the entire wizarding world."
After saying that, Lockhart regained his confident smile, as if the little incident just now was just a small ripple that would soon be smoothed out by the ocean of his words.
However, Ron didn't give him that chance.
“But sir,” Ron pressed, “if you really want to inspire and influence more people, wouldn’t becoming a principal allow you to achieve much more? You could develop curricula, improve teaching methods, and even reform the entire school’s operations. Wouldn’t that be far more impactful than simply writing books and teaching classes?”
From the moment Lockhart learned that Sean had become the headmaster, he silently prayed that he wouldn't encounter this kind of problem.
He is most afraid of people comparing the two of them.
Comparing people is a recipe for disaster; comparing goods is a recipe for discarding them.
Although Lockhart didn't know how many Galleons Sean had spent to get the headmaster's position, that didn't stop him from cursing Sean in his heart.
It's like in a company, you use every means at your disposal and are full of ambition, thinking you've finally defeated the original top salesperson and become the new top salesperson, but you never expected that he would become the company's boss and your direct supervisor in the blink of an eye.
This feeling of frustration that arises spontaneously is hard to explain to outsiders.
Lockhart's cheeks flushed red as if they had been roasted, and he stammered, clearly unsure how to answer the question.
His eyes darted around, as if searching for a way out of his predicament. Just at this extremely awkward moment, the bell rang at the perfect time, relieving him of his predicament.
Hearing the bell, Lockhart felt like he had grasped a lifeline. He breathed a sigh of relief, as if he had been pulled out of an abyss. He hurriedly left behind a "get out of class dismissed" in a voice that was both wolfish and panicked, and then turned around and left the classroom almost dejectedly.
Harry looked at Ron gratefully, and Ron returned his gaze with a "Am I not amazing?" look, everything was understood without words.
The next class is on herbs.
Professor Sprout, who had come to pick up the students for class, had been waiting outside the classroom for quite some time.
Then, everyone lined up in pairs and left the classroom.
Harry, Ron, and Dee were positioned at the very back of the line.
The atmosphere in Herbalism class was very oppressive; two of the class's most active students, Justin and Hermione, were missing.
Professor Sprout carefully assigned everyone a task, having them all prune the Abyssinian wrinkled figs.
This task may seem simple, but it requires patience and attention to detail.
Harry carried some dry branches and walked steadily toward the compost pile, intending to place them on top.
Just then, he ran into Ernie McMillan.
Ernie took a deep breath, mustered his courage, and then said very formally to Harry, "I just want to say, Harry, I'm sorry. I doubted you before, and that was too impulsive of me. Now I understand that you would never attack Hermione Granger. I apologize for all the nonsense I said before. Now we face the same danger, therefore—"
He extended a short, thick hand, his eyes filled with sincerity.
Harry shook Ernie's hand, feeling a rare warmth and sense of solidarity. In this perilous time, having the trust and support of classmates was incredibly important.
Then Ernie and his friend Hannah came over and joined Harry and Ron in working on the same fig tree.
They chatted as they trimmed the dead branches.
"That guy named Draco Malfoy," Ernie said angrily as he broke off a dry branch, "seems to be gloating over our predicament, doesn't he? You know, I suspect he might be the heir to Slytherin."
Ron pursed his lips upon hearing this, seemingly not forgiving Ernie as readily as Harry had. "You're quite clever," he said, a hint of sarcasm in his voice.
Ernie gave a slightly awkward laugh, then turned to Harry: "Harry, do you think it's Malfoy?"
Harry shook his head, his tone very firm: "No." His answer surprised Ernie and Hannah, who stared at him in astonishment.
Just then, Harry suddenly saw something, and his eyes immediately sharpened.
He quickly tapped Ron's hand with the shears to signal him to pay attention.
"Ouch! What are you doing—" Ron was annoyed by the sudden knocking.
But Harry ignored his complaints and pointed to a spot a few steps away on the ground.
Several large spiders hurriedly crawled across the ground, their shadows elongated in the sunlight, appearing unusually eerie.
"Oh, okay," Ron tried to sound happy, but failed. "It's a pity we can't track them now." There was a hint of regret in his voice.
Ernie and Hannah listened to their conversation with curiosity, clearly also intrigued by this unexpected discovery.
Harry watched helplessly as the spider escaped, a sense of unease rising within him.
The appearance of these spiders seems to foreshadow something ominous about to happen.
"It looks like they're heading towards the Forbidden Forest," he said in a low voice, his tone full of worry.
Ron became even more displeased upon hearing this.
He knew the Forbidden Forest was a dangerous and unknown place, and the appearance of these spiders undoubtedly made their situation more complicated and difficult.
"We'll have to use the Invisibility Cloak again," Harry whispered to Ron. "We can take Tooth with us. It often goes into the woods with Hagrid, it'll be helpful."
“Yes,” Ron said nervously, twirling his wand with his fingers. “Oh—are there—are there werewolves in the Forbidden Forest?” he asked again after they had settled into their usual seats in Lockhart’s class.
Harry felt awkward answering the question, saying, "There are some good things there too. The centaurs are quite nice, and Ron the unicorn has never been to the Forbidden Forest before. Harry has only been in once and hopes he'll never be again."
at the same time.
In Sean's office, Tonks began a new round of intensive focus training...