Hogwarts: This professor is too Muggle.

Chapter 121 Senior Riddle is Helpful

The dinner is over.

Melvin walked up the marble stairs with a polite smile on his face, accompanied by the new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor.

Lockhart walked in the middle with his head held high and his chest puffed out, his wavy blond hair shining. While walking up the stairs together, he enthusiastically introduced his past adventure stories. His words were full of the meaning of win-win cooperation. If the adventure stories made an impact, both Yingjing and he would be more popular.

"It's such a shame Harry couldn't come to the party, I would have loved to have had a photo of us together.

“It’s a shame I don’t have any photos of many of my adventures…

"For photos that only move for a few seconds, snow monsters, werewolves, and vampires are not very photogenic, but I think your shadow mirror can make up for it."

Sir Cadogan was standing in a landscape painting, listening blankly. The pony stood not far away, chewing some faded grass with a dull look in its eyes.

Melvin smiled helplessly, said goodbye to Sir Cadogan, and exchanged pleasantries with the nun from the church next door. Then he turned to Lockhart and asked, "Professor Lockhart, I think you may have misunderstood. The Shadow Mirror is a container for playing memories. If you want to create an image, you need to recall all your adventures."

"Real memory?" Lockhart's smile faltered.

"It's best to have a true memory." Melvin glanced at him and said calmly, "This process will reveal a lot of things, such as secret spells and family potion formulas. For an adventurer like you, these secrets are treasures. What do you think?"

"Yes Yes."

Lockhart's forehead was slightly sweaty, but he still refused to give up. "But the stories I saw about freshman detention don't sound like real memories. There's background music and narration?"

"The subsequent production process will involve cutting, splicing, and deleting the soundtrack. We call this post-production work."

"Sounds similar to a fake memory charm."

"That's right." Melvin stopped at the stairs. "The Defense Against the Dark Arts office is on the third floor. Let's say goodbye here. Good night, Professor Lockhart."

"Good night……"

Lockhart watched the young professor's back gradually disappear into the distance, put away his brilliant and perfect smile, and began to sort out the relevant memories in his mind.

He would find those brave warriors in remote areas, find out the details of their adventure stories, and then use the forgetfulness spell to erase their memories and steal their heroic exploits.

He was familiar enough with the details of those stories, but after all, he had not experienced them personally, so it was impossible for him to construct a true and clear memory.

“I’ll do it even if it’s impossible!”

Lockhart forced a smile again, but it was less gentle and more sinister.

The sales of his personal biography "My Magical Man" were far lower than those of his past adventure stories, and even couldn't catch up with reference books such as "Teaching You How to Get Rid of Household Pests". Even though the publishing editor once again pushed him to the position of the Most Charming Smile Award, the sales were still dismal.

Judging from the voting results, his popularity has also declined.

Lockhart and the editor both knew that the path of consuming popularity to earn sales was doomed to be unsustainable, but where could they find new adventure stories?
In order to avoid the publisher's urging for manuscripts, Lockhart agreed to teach at Hogwarts, also with the idea of ​​adapting his past books into film and television, thereby returning to the top.

It seems that we have to find those old wizards and steal their memories completely!
……

"09.01.1992, sunny.

First day of school at Hogwarts.

It was an amazing feeling to sit in the guest of honor seat and review the sorting ceremony from the professor’s perspective.

The Scamander child went into Hufflepuff, just like his grandfather, the Weasley child into Gryffindor, just like his brothers, and the Shacklebolt child into Slytherin, just like his parents. Several children came from Death Eater families and were sorted into Slytherin, which their colleagues said was expected.

I can't help but wonder whether wizard blood really has some kind of mysterious influence, or whether it's all due to family education.

The You-Know-Who and the Death Eaters, the wizarding organization that once advocated the pure-blood concept was overthrown and liquidated, and now their children still support pure-blood. Will they form a new organization in the future, or support a new You-Know-Who and re-assemble the Death Eaters?
I have no idea."

Melvin put the quill back into the ink bottle, waiting for the quill to absorb the ink, and watched the ink dry quickly. In just one or two seconds, the rich and moist handwriting looked a little blurred, as if it had been dried in the desert for half a month.

It seems that there is no more concealment.

Melvin wasn't sure whether Riddle had deliberately revealed himself to arouse his curiosity, or whether he had been distracted by the contents of the diary and lost control.

The quill was already full of ink, but he pretended not to notice the change and wrote again:

"Harry Potter was not present at the dinner, and he was not seen at the Gryffindor table.

I heard from my colleagues that he missed the express train due to some accidents, so he and the Weasley children drove a modified flying car to school, causing a small-scale magic leak accident, breaking the side branches of the Whomping Willow, and was punished by Professor Snape in the basement.

What a ridiculous accident.

I really can't understand how such a stupid and incompetent student could defeat the most powerful dark wizard in history while still in his infancy.

Could it be that the You-Know-Who is just an empty title, and Voldemort is just a leader promoted by the Death Eaters?

A manipulated puppet?"

When the last question mark fell, the diary trembled twice, and the dried ink scattered on the yellowed paper suddenly shook and was sucked into the spine by an invisible force.

Senior Riddle finally couldn't help it.

A smile flashed across Melvin's eyes, and then he seemed stunned, looking at the diary in disbelief. He reacted belatedly, took two steps back, grabbed his wand and pointed it at the diary.

【Quickly show up】

【Original form appears】

【Mark Display】

A series of detection spells were cast, much like the panicked actions of an ordinary wizard upon discovering a dark magic item, but no results appeared in the diary.

The spell beam turned into tiny spots of light and scattered in all directions.

Facing Melvin's suspicious gaze, the yellowed paper trembled twice, and ink spurted out of the spine, revealing a line of neat and beautiful handwriting.

"Former Hogwarts student, Tom Riddle, sends you warm greetings."

Melvin remained in a state of uncertainty, remaining alert. He controlled the quill from a distance and wrote on the paper:

"Tom Riddle? Who are you, no, what are you?"

"Don't worry, I'm not a creation of dark magic. I'm just the diary of an ordinary student who wants to leave his mark on the school. I also happen to have some talent in alchemy."

"Oh……"

Melvin suddenly realized something and wrote on the paper, "Like a magical portrait? I see. You originally wanted to make a portrait and a frame to leave at school, but you didn't have the skills, so you could only make a special diary."

The 16-year-old Riddle in the diary was silent for two seconds, then quickly accepted the setting: "Yes."

"Do you need me to put you back in your place?"

"If I could, I'd appreciate your help."

Now it was Melvin's turn to be stunned. The diary had been sealed for more than ten years, and it contained so much explosive information, but it still wanted to fulfill its duty as a Horcrux and let him hide it?
Was 16-year-old Tom Riddle so sane?

He even suspected that his Occlumency technique and the fake memory spell had gone wrong. But the reappearance of the writing on the paper dispelled Melvin's doubts:
"Or maybe we can become friends and provide some minor assistance to your teaching assistant life."

There was a hint of smile in Melvin's eyes. It turned out to be a tactic of playing hard to get. It almost tricked him, but he was a little impatient.

He approached the desk again and wrote:

"How can you help me?"

These signs gave Riddle the feeling that he had gained the young professor's trust, and his responses became much faster:
"The structure of Hogwarts Castle, its many unknown secrets, its powerful and profound magical techniques... If you encounter any problems, I can offer you advice and find the best solution. But before that, can you tell me your name?"

The diary took the initiative to ask questions and make friends, and Melvin knew that it had let down its guard, or rather, it saw itself as prey falling into a spider's web.

"You should know that names can cast a curse. For a diary as mysterious as yours..." Melvin deliberately delayed for a few seconds, pretending to be hesitant. "What is your purpose in helping me?"

"I'm just a diary. What bad intentions could I have? I just want to help others. Go to the trophy display room and take a look at my trophies and my achievements at school. Then you'll know that I'm a helpful, warm and friendly wizard."

Melvin almost laughed out loud. He sat back in his chair and continued writing:
"I'm sorry, I misunderstood you. On behalf of Melvin Levant, I apologize."

"Resolving misunderstandings always builds deeper trust. Let's stop here for today, Mr. Levent. We'll talk again after you've verified the facts."

"I apologize again. I want to believe you, but it's too late now. I have classes tomorrow, so I'll have to see you tomorrow."

"We're already friends, right?"

"Yes, Tom."

"..."

Melvin closed the diary and let out a long sigh. He was indeed Senior Riddle. A few words of communication, various attempts of advancing and retreating, and a combination of attack and defense to eliminate doubts and vigilance, if it were an ordinary wizard who didn't know its true face, he might really make friends with it.

But I handled it well. Looking back at my diary entries from the past few days and the conversation just now, I successfully established the image of a young Hufflepuff wizard through words. He had graduated less than two years ago, was cautious and careful, but had the innocence and gullibility unique to Hufflepuff.

Melvin got up, washed and prepared to go to bed, secretly wondering in his heart, in a few days, will Riddle give up the disguise of a caring senior and start to find out about Harry?
It's really exciting.

No wonder the principal was reluctant to destroy the crown. This role-playing game is really interesting.

……

next morning.

Melvin was about to leave the office when he suddenly remembered something. He turned back and wrote in his diary:

"Good morning, Tom. I'll bring you some colored ink."

Without waiting for the diary to answer, Melvin quickly closed the book and stuffed it into the bottom, inconspicuous drawer.

About half an hour later.

School auditorium.

The magic dome was gray today, just like the sky outside, a gloomy gray.

Melvin sat at the side of the guest of honor seat and enjoyed breakfast, and the conversations at the long table in front of him and among his colleagues around him reached his ears.

On the first day of school, all the teachers and students were present, with professors of elective courses sitting next to them. The four deans walked around the long tables of the colleges, distributing the arranged course schedules. Even Dumbledore, who had been hiding in the principal's office for a long time, showed up.

Dumbledore tasted the pumpkin oatmeal with a smile, patiently introduced it to Lockhart, and responded to his self-boasting.

"Principal, the situation was extremely critical!"

"Um……"

"The Yeti's claws are already hitting me in the face!"

"what?"

"You know how I escaped? It was bacon! I stuffed it up its nose!"

"Oh!"

It was clearly just a simple, perfunctory interjection, but when it came out of the mouth of a legendary wizard, its emotional value was immediately maximized. Lockhart laughed so hard that he almost floated up.

Dumbledore noticed Melvin's look and looked at Lockhart beside him. He paused for a moment and said, "Professor Lockhart, could you show me the spell that you used to restore the werewolf to its human form?"

"Uh……"

Lockhart suddenly got stuck and pretended to choke on his fried eggs. He coughed a few times and waved his hands: "Ahem... Sorry, Headmaster, I have to go take care of this."

Dumbledore nodded and smiled, watching him hurry away.

Melvin sat down, glanced at his intact fingers, and skipped the pleasantries before getting straight to the point: "Principal, did you deal with the crown you found last year?"

Dumbledore tasted the oatmeal and thought silently for half a minute, then carefully decided to reveal some information. He left the matter of the Horcrux vague and said that he still needed to investigate the information about the dark magic items from the crown, but was currently at a stalemate.

Melvin analyzed it based on his own speculation.

Perhaps it was because Voldemort in the crown was more cunning and was familiar with Dumbledore's face. The headmaster tried role-playing to obtain some information, but the crown quickly realized that Dumbledore was fishing or really influenced, so he was very defensive and no longer revealed the core information of the Horcrux.

The principal and the crown are now at a stalemate.

"I plan to talk to Ms. Grey again. If there's no progress, I'll find good weather to destroy it."

Dumbledore's tone was calm and indifferent.

……

"Oatmeal, please! Pickled herrings, please!"

Harry was sitting in the middle of the Gryffindor table, his voice cheerful and his appetite thriving. No points were deducted, no detentions were given, yesterday's trouble was over, and except for the Whomping Willow, no one had been hurt.

He was praised by his classmates last night and felt that he was a bit cool.

Ron, who was standing next to him, was also in a good mood, smiling broadly as he added food to his plate: "Butter bread, one portion!"

"Mushroom soup, please!"

“Chicken and ham sandwich…”

Harry and Ron stopped at the same time, looked at each other, and their faces gradually turned pale: "Ugh..."

The roommates and classmates around them burst into loud laughter. They all knew about the two guys' stupid behavior. According to Simo, the two guys went home last night, lay in bed humming for a long time and couldn't fall asleep, almost suffering from insomnia.

While they were having fun, an owl postman flew into the auditorium through the skylight, bringing letters and packages from outside the school.

There are also roaring letters filled with maternal love.

(End of this chapter)