bacchusnovels Chapter 198 is just for fooling the readers.
Chapter 198 is just for fooling the readers.
Chapter 198 is just for fooling the readers.
"Professor Lockhart, aren't you worried?" Filch asked in a low voice, standing outside the door. His eyes flickered in the dim light of the corridor, as if his anxiety had not completely dissipated.
Lockhart chuckled softly, though somewhat forcedly, he tried to appear relaxed. "I think maybe the students are mistaken; they think the lower the score, the better..."
His words carried a hint of helplessness and confusion; he himself didn't believe such illogical statements.
After he finished speaking, he smiled awkwardly and shook his head.
The atmosphere became awkward once again. The silence between the two was like an invisible wall, making the already tense atmosphere even more oppressive.
After an unknown amount of time, the two dripping stone beasts in front of them finally opened their heavy stone mouths once again, emitting a low and long sound that broke the silence around them.
Professor Snape then came into view. He walked out gracefully, his face more somber than before, his brows furrowed, his eyes flashing with complex emotions—anger, disappointment, and a hint of barely perceptible worry.
His gaze lingered between the two men, his sharp eyes seemingly able to pierce their souls, sending a chill down their spines.
His gaze then settled on Lockhart, his eyes seemingly holding some deeper meaning.
"Phillips wants you in." Snape left with these short but meaningful words, then turned and walked away, disappearing from their sight.
It's clear that Snape and Sean just had a heated argument.
Lockhart and Filch exchanged a glance, then lowered their heads to straighten their clothes, nodded in acknowledgment, and then walked alone toward Sean's office.
Lockhart pushed open the door and stepped into Sean's office.
The curtains at the window were completely drawn, making the room even dimmer than outside. Only a table lamp cast a dim yellow halo on the table, making the whole space appear exceptionally quiet and mysterious.
A sense of oppression hung in the air, making him involuntarily tense.
He looked around and saw that Sean was still sitting behind that large desk dealing with the seemingly endless official business.
It's all just pretense.
Lockhart thought to himself.
Just as he was preparing to greet Sean with his usual smile, a strange premonition suddenly froze his smile on his face.
He noticed Sean suddenly raise his head, his eyes seemingly piercing through the dim light, staring straight at him with an indescribable gleam.
Lockhart felt a surge of unease. He instinctively tried to take a step back, but his feet seemed to be nailed to the ground, unable to move.
"Your books are all plagiarized, aren't they?" Sean said slowly, his tone carrying a hint of amusement and an undeniable certainty.
For a time traveler, the most satisfying thing is undoubtedly to stand in front of the characters from the original world like a prophet who has a complete grasp of the situation, revealing their inner secrets little by little, and appreciating their complex expressions of shock and surprise.
This could be described as a perverse sense of humor, or it could be seen as an inevitable process for time travelers to do something.
Sean was no exception.
From questioning to understanding, and then to becoming, perhaps all that's missing is a large transport vehicle.
Just as he was preparing to admire Lockhart's originally confident face as it gradually turned surprised and flustered after hearing his question, and to enjoy the indescribable sense of satisfaction, Lockhart gave him a completely unexpected reaction.
Lockhart let out a soft sigh of relief, his expression utterly relaxed, as if to say:
I thought it was something big, but it turns out... that's all?
Just as Sean was wondering why Lockhart's reaction was so different from what he had expected, Lockhart said to him in a matter-of-fact tone, "Aren't you the same?"
"So, you didn't actually start to think those things were yours as you wrote them?" Lockhart's confidence grew with each word.
He even pulled up a chair from the side, sat down next to Sean, patted Sean on the shoulder, and said with the air of someone who's been there, "These things are fine for fooling readers, but don't fool yourself too."
This made Sean laugh in exasperation.
How come copying has somehow given them a sense of superiority?
Moreover, although he is a plagiarist from another world, he is fundamentally different from Lockhart.
Putting aside the secondary creation to fit the historical context, at the very least, while he adapted novels, he never harmed anyone like Lockhart did.
But Sean didn't say anything; instead, he watched Lockhart's performance quietly.
Lockhart felt even more smug when he saw that Sean didn't react.
This secret had been bottled up in his heart for countless years, and he had finally found someone to confide in.
Moreover, this person was his colleague, now nominally his superior, and this change in status made him feel even more lost.
So he pretended to be modest and comforted Sean, "But don't worry, we've done a good job."
"Take my book, 'Wandering with Werewolves,' for example. Who would want to read about the deeds of an ugly old American wizard, even though he saved a village from the scourge of werewolves? Putting his picture on the cover would be awful. He had absolutely no taste in clothes."
"And of course, there's that witch who banishes female ghosts; she has a hairy chin!"
"What I mean is, they should thank us."
"Without us, their stories would have remained buried in their hearts forever, but with us, these stories can be known to more people."
"Moreover, consider the immense contribution we've made to the world with our imagination and words, allowing readers to forget their troubles and immerse themselves in a world of fantasy. Our work is meaningful, isn't it?"
Sean nodded blankly.
He had no idea that he and Lockhart had such a great "contribution".
Seeing Sean's approval of his rhetoric, Lockhart became even more excited. He spoke rapidly, spitting as he spoke, "And our work isn't as simple as it seems to outsiders. They always think we just wield a pen and make up stories to achieve fame and fortune, but what's the reality?"
"We need to go deep into the field, track down these people, and ask them how they managed to do those things. They have no idea about the hardships and dangers involved."
"Furthermore, we need to make sure they aren't disturbed by these things. So, we need to cast a forgetting spell on them, making them completely forget about it. That way, they can continue living peacefully, and we can protect their privacy."
"We also have to put in a lot of hard work. It's not just about signing books and taking photos with celebrities. To become famous..."
To make readers remember you, you must be prepared for a long and arduous journey. You need to constantly discover new stories, create new works, and continuously promote yourself to make your name and work memorable.
At this point, Lockhart seemed to recall his previous hardships, and his eyes even became a little moist.
He blinked, trying to hold back his tears, then took a deep breath and patted Sean on the shoulder forcefully.
"Luckily, I'm handsome enough to shorten this part of the process; otherwise, I really don't know how I would have made it through. You know, Sean, sometimes I really feel so tired and want to give up."
"But when I think of my readers, and how they are looking forward to my new work, I know I can't stop. I have to keep going, for them and for myself."
Sean gave Lockhart a heartfelt round of applause.
No wonder he was once his role model, the respectable Lockhart.
He thought he was thick-skinned enough, but when he faced Lockhart, he still saw room for improvement. Lockhart was somewhat mesmerized by the applause.
There is nothing more wonderful than the admiration of a former enemy.
However... he was used to applause, and for some reason felt something was off when he heard Sean's applause.
It's like clapping while holding something in your hands...:
Only then did he notice that Sean seemed to be holding something in his hand, but it was difficult to discern its true form in the dimly lit room.
However, as Sean slowly raised his hand, the object gradually revealed its outline in the dim light.
Lockhart's heart pounded, and he could hardly believe his eyes—it was a magic wand!
He instinctively tried to pull out his wand to defend himself, but unfortunately, Sean was faster than him.
Sean's lips moved slightly, and a clear, chilling incantation escaped his lips: "Forget everything!"
Lockhart felt a sudden wave of dizziness, as if his mind had been instantly emptied by an invisible force, all his thoughts, memories, and defenses vanishing without a trace in that instant.
Sean looked at Lockhart, who was standing there dumbfounded, and sighed deeply.
throat.
A fool can defeat a master.
Listening to Lockhart speak wasted another twenty of his precious minutes.