https://novelcool.info/chapter/Chapter-219-Professor-and-Student-Two-in-One-/12588484/
https://novelcool.info/chapter/Chapter-221-The-Photo-and-the-Crustacean-Helper/12937618/
Chapter 220: Guidance
Chapter 220: Guidance
Vold was startled when Lockhart suddenly grabbed him. He blinked, and before he could speak, a frame was forcefully placed in his hand.
In the photo, Lockhart, adorned in his golden wizard's robe, strolled around, occasionally flashing his proud smile, his teeth dazzlingly white.
Lockhart's unique, fancy signature adorned the bottom right corner, and he playfully drew a flower at the end.
"Here you go, this is what you've always wanted," Lockhart said, placing his arm around Vold's shoulder without hesitation, holding his own photo and speaking enthusiastically, "Smile, Vold!"
A black camera captured the moment with a 'click'.
A faint white smoke dispersed, and Vold squinted, looking ahead.
As the bulky camera was lowered, the face revealed was not Colin Creevey of Gryffindor, but Rolf Scamander.
The boy blinked gently, and Vold responded with a genuine smile.
"Thank you, Rolf!"
Lockhart patted Rolf's shoulder affectionately and said, "Remember to send me a copy when the photo is developed. This is your payment."
He handed over a signed photo of himself.
"Yes, Professor! Thank you, Professor!" Rolf said, hanging the camera around his neck and happily accepting the photo.
"If you ever want to take another photo together, just let me know, Vold!" Lockhart called out as he turned back towards Vold. "You know, you're one of my favorite students, and I won't refuse such a small request!"
After emphasizing his intentions and ensuring that the surrounding students heard and understood the 'close teacher-student relationship', Lockhart hurried away, not daring to hear Vold's response, as he saw a hint of a cold smile on the boy's lips.
A group of girls gathered their courage and chased after him.
"Professor, could you sign for me too?"
"Professor, I want a signed photo as well!"
Lockhart hadn't walked far before he was surrounded by the girls. He happily took out his quill and began signing with great enthusiasm.
Only then did Rolf approach Vold.
"I saw Professor Lockhart asking Colin Creevey of Gryffindor to be the photographer, and knowing you dislike such things, I volunteered to help," Rolf explained in a low voice. "I'll destroy the film when I get back and tell him it was accidentally exposed to light and ruined."
"No, give me the photo," Vold said with a smile. "I'll take it to Professor Lockhart myself."
Rolf blinked in confusion, glanced at Vold's meaningful cold smile, and obediently agreed, "Okay."
...
In the afternoon, Vold received the photo.
The magical photo was in black and white, and Vold noticed that in the picture, Lockhart, with his hair in a mess, was huddled in a corner, panting. However, Vold's own figure was nowhere to be seen.
Vold searched carefully for a while before spotting a piece of fabric in the corner.
Compared to the students in the picture, Vold himself was relatively inconspicuous.
For instance, Fred, Vold noticed him repeatedly taking out his money bag and shaking it, sharing a mischievous smile with George in the photo.
Holding this photo that didn't resemble a group shot at all, Vold, with the camera hanging from his shoulder, made his way to the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor's office.
When Quirrell was still at the school, Vold had never voluntarily approached this area. However, during class, he would inevitably pass by, and he was familiar with the location.
There was no Defense Against the Dark Arts class that afternoon, and Vold knocked on the door, which was soon opened.
Lockhart, assuming it was one of his admirers, held a quill ready for signing, and was visibly surprised to see Vold.
"Ah, Vold... it's you..."
As their gray eyes met, Lockhart involuntarily averted his gaze, feeling a sudden hollowness in his heart.
"I've come to deliver the photo, Professor," Vold said, shaking the photo. As Lockhart breathed a sigh of relief, Vold added, "Also, I'd like to seek your guidance on some Defense Against the Dark Arts knowledge."
"Oh, oh, I see. In that case, please come in," the blond professor's smile returned to his face.
After all, he's just a child.
The thought came to him effortlessly.
Vold entered and closed the door with a 'bang'.
Lockhart's heart suddenly sank as well. He turned and saw that Vold had already drawn his wand.
"The Disarming Charm you demonstrated in the club, I still have some doubts about it. Could you please guide me further?" the dark-haired boy asked softly.
"Um... well... er... of course I can..." Lockhart replied, his gaze following the photo. Finally, seeing that Vold wasn't going to budge, he reluctantly agreed.
He drew his wand, feeling a hint of unease, but the thought that he was facing a young student, a young alchemist, reassured him.
After all, an alchemist... even if they master a few Neglect Charms, their magic level can't be that high, right?
Just like himself, he's only proficient in the Forgetfulness Charm... but his Defense Against the Dark Arts spellcasting skills, no matter how poor, can't be worse than a second-year student, right?
...
Michael checked the time, bid farewell to his friends, and climbed the marble staircase to the third floor. He pressed his ear against Lockhart's office door, but heard nothing.
In his message on the Friend Book, Michael asked a question, but Vold didn't respond.
Michael sighed, drew his wand, and pointed it at the door lock, whispering, "Alohomora!"
The lock clicked, and the door opened.
As Michael pulled the door ajar, a loud bang followed by a series of clattering sounds reverberated.
Startled, he retracted his neck slightly. When the noise gradually subsided, he cautiously peered inside.
On the ground were scattered broken bottles and countless picture frames. In the photos, Professor Lockhart appeared flustered and trembling, hiding in a corner.
Professor Lockhart himself was lying in the corner, his eyes tightly shut, his face bruised and swollen, even with traces of blood, and his chest was splattered with a large patch of green ink.
Michael's eyes widened in shock. He quickly darted into the office and closed the door, lowering his voice to ask, "Is he still alive?"
As he spoke, he rolled up his sleeves as if preparing to help dispose of the body.
Vold had intended to ask why he was being so sneaky, but upon hearing this, he couldn't help but smirk.
"Of course not. I was just consulting with the professor about the Disarming Charm. Professor Lockhart... was very dedicated in his teaching."
As he spoke casually, he raised his camera and snapped a photo of Professor Lockhart.
The flash went off, and Professor Lockhart reflexively smiled, only to realize a moment later that his current state couldn't possibly be shown in the media. He began to moan in pain.
Hearing his voice, Michael finally breathed a sigh of relief.
"I thought you had killed our Defense Against the Dark Arts professor..." he said softly.
"How could I?" Vold replied. "It's not easy for Professor Dumbledore to find us a Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. It's just that Professor..."
He squatted down, and Professor Lockhart immediately scurried backward.
"I personally don't like my photos appearing in any newspapers or magazines, and I don't want to be associated with a big celebrity like yourself... Can you understand how I feel?" Vold said politely.
Professor Lockhart covered the wound on his forehead, looking at him with fear, his gaze shifting between the camera and the photo in Vold's hand, and he quickly nodded.
"Thank you for your understanding."
The "group photo" in Vold's hand suddenly caught fire, and in the blink of an eye, only a small pile of black ash remained, falling onto the messy floor.
"Then we'll take our leave... It's almost dinner time, and thank you very much for your dedicated teaching today, Professor Lockhart."
Vold stood up and looked at Professor Lockhart lying on the ground in a pitiful state. He spoke softly, "I hope the professor takes care of himself. If there's a chance next time, I'd like to learn more spells from you."
Michael couldn't help but think to himself, "Is this a threat? Does Professor Lockhart look like he's about to be scared to tears?"
These thoughts ran through his mind, but he didn't feel the slightest bit of sympathy for Professor Lockhart.
The two turned around, and Michael stepped over a couple of picture frames and reached out to open the door.
For some unknown reason, Vold walked slowly.
Behind them, Professor Lockhart's eyes darted nervously, watching as the student wiped his wand and put it back into his bag.
He endured the pain as if every bone in his body had been shattered, and with difficulty, he reached out and grasped his wand.
After hesitating for a moment, just as the two were about to leave, Professor Lockhart finally raised his wand and shouted—
"Obliviate!"
"Bang!"
Before he could even see how Vold had moved, Professor Lockhart felt like he had been charged by a rhinoceros, and his whole body flew out, slamming against the wall with a 'splat' like a pancake, then slowly sliding down.
His nose felt like it had been broken, and the intense pain made tears stream down Professor Lockhart's face, but he still struggled to keep his eyes open—
Indeed, there was no wand in Vold's hand.
Vold pointed at Professor Lockhart with a single finger, his expression showing no surprise at all, while Michael, on the other hand, looked shocked and furious.
"No need to see us out, Professor," Michael said, his voice dripping with condescension.
Hearing his student speak down to him, Professor Lockhart said, "You've really gone to a lot of trouble today."
Footsteps echoed as the office door slammed shut.
"So despicable!" Michael exclaimed as soon as they stepped out. "As a professor, to launch a sneak attack, and with the Forgetfulness Charm, no less! That's illegal!"
Vold's voice was low, and Michael couldn't make out what he said, followed by more curses from Michael.
It was as if Vold were the one who had been wronged.
The voices quickly faded into the distance until they could no longer be heard.
Professor Lockhart wiped the nosebleed from his face, for the first time neglecting to maintain his perfect image. His mind was filled with a buzzing sound.
He felt like he had been knocked out with a Concussion.
But more importantly—
The No-Magic Spell... Is this really the level of a twelve-year-old student...?"
(End of Chapter)
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