[HP] Being a problem student at Hogwarts

Tom went back full of doubts. In fact, he still had a lot to ask, such as what kind of fate did Professor Lockhart see? What is his plan? Has he tampered with his memory in any other way?

He also wanted to ask Principal Dumbledore. The principal asked him to ask Professor Lockhart directly, was it because the principal's memory and cognition had been manipulated by Professor Lockhart, or was it because Principal Dumbledore knew something and therefore specially gave him this opportunity? give him?

No matter how many of Professor Lockhart's abilities are talents that are difficult to teach to others, being his apprentice is still a good opportunity. Think about it, a wizard who is good at memorizing magic and whose moral standards are obviously not particularly high, how much knowledge and secrets of the magical world must be stored in his mind!

These thoughts were chaotically fighting in Tom's mind, causing him to not sleep well all night, and he was still listless when he got up.

Ron thought he was sad because of Mrs. Norris, and comforted him: "It's okay. The principal has said that the cat will get better when the grass matures."

"Thank you," Tom said shortly. He had yet to reveal Professor Lockhart's secret to his friends.

Spreading his secrets without permission right under the nose of a wizard who plays with memories? This is not how you seek death. He doesn't want to have a bunch of irrelevant memories stuffed into his mind with a vengeance and become a madman, or have his memory changed to think he is another person, or even have the traces erased from other people's minds to achieve social death...

Tom shook his head and threw away those divergent thoughts.

"Let's go to class," he finally said.

On the way to class, he passed by the second-floor corridor, where Filch struggled in vain to scrub the writing on the wall with Mrs. Skoll's All-Purpose Miracle Stain Remover. After a night, the semi-dried blood stains still stubbornly remained stuck to the wall as if they were not dripping, shining tenaciously.

For several days, Filch struggled with the writing on the wall. Sometimes he would throw the rag into the bucket of cleaning water, then sit on the ground and cry. He continued to scrub the wall with vicious eyes, as if he expected that if he could restore the place where Mrs. Norris was killed, his beloved gray cat would also be restored to its original state.

"I have to do something." He said hoarsely to Tom, who came to persuade him to go to the professor to use magic to restore the wall. His attitude was surprisingly calm, "You don't understand, I have to do something."

So Tom had to find Professor Lockhart again.

"Is there any cleaner that can remove the writing on the wall?" he asked, "or some magic -"

Lockhart was busy replying to fans without raising his head, saying: "The writing on the wall has been erased long ago - it was originally empty, what else do you want to erase?"

"...Is it you?" Tom was shocked again, "How did you do it on such a large scale? And why?"

"It's not like you think, casting spells on every student. My dear little fool." Lockhart said impatiently, taking out his wand and carefully pulling out a puff of pink gas from the pile of fan letters, and came closer. He took a deep breath - then the pink color quickly dispersed into several strands along the airflow, and flowed into his seven orifices. Then Lockhart became more energetic and energetic visibly to the naked eye.

"Are you weaving shells?"

"Daily maintenance." Lockhart roughly pushed the large pile of used fan letters to the corner of the table.

"It's easy to erase the writing on the wall, but it's difficult to erase the traces in the heart. A little clever use can make a big difference..." He finally had the mood to say a few more words, "As for why? I need a little atmosphere of panic as a substitute. This is also the nature of the story - don't ask me what the story is like, you are a variable, and if you know too much, the variables will be too big - don't get in my way," he warned again, "As long as you Don’t do unnecessary things…”

Almost immediately, his expression changed again, and he asked happily: "Want to learn some memory magic that you can learn? I recommend you to start with Legilimency or Oblivion. Both of them are great, one One is forced reading, and the other is forced forgetting. If you are indeed talented in this area, maybe I can show you my talent model—I mean, some spell models I compiled based on my talent."

"I've heard of Occlumency before," Tom said, "but Professor Snape said it was too advanced and not something that junior students should be exposed to -"

"Don't listen to him," said Lockhart. "What does he know?"

"What kind of magic does not have profound principles? What kind of magic is truly safe and risk-free? He thinks danger is his business. I don't see any danger - even if only one of the millions of possibilities of fate leads to success, right? To me, that's 100%." ​​Lockhart curled his lips and said, "Just say whether you want to learn or not."

Tom immediately answered him loudly: "I want them all!"

"I'm best at the Oblivion Curse, followed by Legilimency - because of my talent, reading memories is more subtle. I don't know if you can learn it, but I'll give it to you first." Lockhart said irresponsibly, "As for Occlumency? I don't know it. I don't need it. I would welcome anyone to read my brain - to see who plays with whose memory in the end."

"Sit down, don't move," he commanded, "save me some trouble—"

Tom looked at him and fell back into the icy blue sea of ​​Lockhart's eyes.

Almost at the same time, his mind was filled with a large amount of memories about the spells of the Oblivion Curse and the Soul-Absorbing Curse, spell models, spell-casting techniques, spell-casting experiences, practical experience, etc.

He covered his head and screamed: "Ah...slow down! Professor! Slow down!"

"Okay." Lockhart apologized sincerely, "I'm sorry, I don't pay much attention to the experience of experimental subjects. It may not be comfortable. If you mind, I can remove this painful memory fragment. .”

"No, no." Tom refused him quickly, feeling that his scalp was still throbbing with pain.

"Okay, you can study it yourself." Lockhart immediately turned his back and chased him away. "It's best to practice it. After all, it's not your memory, so casting spells is not your style. You have to adjust it yourself. Go ahead, go ahead. , go play by yourself and don’t do unnecessary things.”

Tom couldn't laugh or cry. How could Professor Lockhart really accept an apprentice? It was obviously just a variable that bought him with knowledge. However, he was very magnanimous, his threats were powerful, and his actions were generous...

"Where can I go to practice?" Tom refused to leave. "Here are either teachers or classmates... What would Principal Dumbledore think?"

"What to think? It's not like he doesn't know -" Lockhart said distractedly. "He knows I'm good at memory magic - he doesn't know the full extent of my abilities. I told him the diviner divined the end of my destiny. It's approaching, so I want to come to Hogwarts and choose a qualified apprentice for myself in the cradle of the wizarding world."

"When none of you passed my little tests, he must have been very anxious - when you came to the door, he took the initiative to send you here."

"How can you learn magic without practicing it? As long as you don't do it too much, he will naturally turn a blind eye," Lockhart mocked, "For the greater good. Anyway, I made an oath with him. , never really hurt anyone in the school.”

"Besides, why do you have to find people to do experiments? There are a lot of ghosts here, and all of them are crazy." Lockhart said in a disapproving tone, "No one will notice if you are crazy. And in the Forbidden Forest Those magical creatures, even if you didn't do a good job in erasing the memory in the end, they won't dare to do anything to the cubs, what a good material."

Tom felt that he had too many memories crammed into his mind at once, and that was why he was so confused that he asked Professor Lockhart about his practice subjects. This bad-tempered professor's moral cognition is obviously different from others. He probably thought that it would be a big deal and finally erased the memory of the experiment, so that he could just walk away as if nothing had happened...

"Thank you, Professor," Tom said obediently, and hurriedly slipped out of Lockhart's office.