Hogwarts: This professor is too Muggle.

Chapter 267 Editing Work
The late-night party has ended.

Below the tower on the side of Hogwarts, in the shed where Thestrals carriages are parked.

A professor, dressed in a rented formal robe, led the Thestral back to the stables, carrying a bag of raw beef as a treat for the horse. A young professor, seemingly idle, walked beside him, gazing into the distance.

The area ahead was not clearly visible in the night, only gently undulating curves. The greenhouse looked like an inverted hemisphere. The branches of the Mantis Willow swayed in the wind, and occasionally an annoying Dementor would patrol and approach, only to be driven away by the lashing branches.

Lupin's school days were spent in the secret passage under that strange tree on the night of the full moon. As a freshman, he was not tall enough and had to stand on tiptoe to touch the knots on it. He accidentally angered the willow tree and was whipped several times.

Once, Ms. Pomfrey discovered the wound, and from then on, Professor McGonagall escorted him into the secret passage.

"So I am grateful to Headmaster Dumbledore, and grateful to Hogwarts..."

Lupin said to the young professor beside him, "At that time, the Death Eaters had already started to operate outside, and occasionally they would spend the weekend at Hogsmeade. We could also hear bad rumors. I don't know why, but we students didn't feel any danger. It was as if Hogwarts was the safest fortress. Until we stayed at the school, all dangers were irrelevant to us."

Melvin remained calm, seemingly not paying much attention.

Lupin pointed to the passageway outside: "After meeting James and the others, we became even more unrestrained, wandering out of the castle at night, turning into animals to roam outside, going to the outskirts of Hogsmeade, and deep into the Forbidden Forest, without any fear of danger."

Melvin's dark, deep eyes moved, and he lazily looked towards the Forbidden Forest.

Lupin said with some regret and nostalgia: "When we were talking about school security earlier, Alastor also missed his younger days when there were no nasty Death Eaters, and dark wizards hid in Diagon Alley, so there was no need to worry about anyone ambushing you from the rubbish cans."

"Tonks said she had an easy time in school too..."

Lupin looked up to continue speaking, but the back of his neck suddenly bumped against the rental sign. His expression froze, and after a long silence, he sighed, shook his head, and stopped talking. He then lowered his head to feed the two Thestrals that were out on field duty.

"..."

After so much buildup, they finally brought up Tonks, but then he became too insecure to continue.

Melvin narrowed his eyes slightly; he was in a hurry to get back and mail the letter.

……

In the morning, in a London neighborhood.

The sign announcing that Taotao Department Store was closed for renovations was dampened by the light rain of early October.

This sign was posted decades ago. It's crudely made of brass. Other shops in the vicinity have changed hands several times, from cafes to clothing stores to restaurants. Only this department store, which occupies a prime location, has been closed for years.

Herbert Spring, the vice principal of St. Mungo's Hospital, stood in front of the glass display case. Fine raindrops soaked the case, washing away the grime and making the glass clearer. Inside, the plastic mannequin stood steadily, its pupils shimmering.

The occasional loud horn sounded from the street behind them. Spring leaned closer and whispered, "Herbert Spring, the vice dean."

Melvin added from the side, "Melvin Levent is here today to pick up the patient from the hospital."

The expressionless plastic mannequin nodded almost imperceptibly, and a magical aura spread, making the display case glass seem even clearer. The two stepped inside, their figures disappearing into the window without any obstruction. The streets in the rain were filled only with the flow of vehicles.

After passing through the information desk and going upstairs, passing several lower-level departments, I arrived at the closed ward of the Curse Injury Department on the fifth floor.

Ms. Melanie Straw, Lockhart's attending therapist, was already waiting outside the closed ward.

Melvin peered through the viewing window. Light streamed through the skylight, illuminating the ward's interior. A few green plants hung in front of the window. Other patients were resting, while Lockhart sat blankly, flipping through newspaper photos. His wavy blonde hair, neglected for a long time, was slightly disheveled. His sky-blue eyes had lost some of their calculating edge, and his teeth remained neat and white. Dressed in a hospital gown, he was no longer as glamorous or eye-catching, giving a more positive first impression.

"The Order of Merlin, the Most Charming Smile Award, the Bestselling Wizarding Author..."

He could be faintly heard muttering to himself outside. Spring frowned: "Tell me how the illness is progressing. After reading so many reports about himself, Lockhart still hasn't accepted himself?"

“Professor, Dean, Gilderoy hasn’t regained his memories yet; his understanding of himself comes entirely from external sources…”

The female therapist standing in front of the ward spoke softly, her tone gentle. She had no prejudice against Lockhart and did not despise or loathe her because of her crimes. She had the typical appearance of a Scottish witch, and her green therapist's robe exuded a gentle maternal aura.

“This is not a reason for him to escape trial. Using the Oblivion Charm to steal other people’s experiences is an extremely heinous act. Don’t treat him like an ordinary patient.” Spring’s expression was serious. “Now I need to discharge him from the hospital, let him leave the safe haven of the closed ward, face the mistakes he made, and compensate the innocent people who were harmed.”

“Okay…” the therapist Melanie replied softly, and hurriedly left to complete the formalities.

“I’m not sure if this is the right thing to do, Professor Levent, but I agree with you. Everyone must be responsible for their past, and patients who have lost themselves due to the Oblivion Curse are no exception.”

Spring turned his head and sighed, "I will seal the discharge record separately. As long as the Ministry of Magic does not send any special personnel to check on him or inquire, and there are no news reports, no one will notice him for at least six months."

Melvin laughed: "Relax, we're not trying to murder him, nor are we going to trick him into selling his organs."

"Professor, do you want to restore his memory?"

Melvin looked up at the dazed Lockhart inside, paused for a moment, and said softly, "No, compared to the quick-witted Lockhart of the past, this slow-witted patient is more trustworthy."

Spring did not speak.

“I will not take any steps to restore his memory, but I will not prevent him from finding himself. I will simply offer him a job to do things for me, and use the salary to compensate the wizards in those remote villages.”

"..."

When Melem returned, she pushed open the heavy stone door, and the three of them walked into the ward together. It was very quiet inside.

Each patient is carefully cared for by a therapist, who uses various methods to soothe and suggest, and includes calming agents in their diet and medication to ensure they do not harm others or themselves.

Seeing the three people who came to his bedside, Gilderoy Lockhart was confused and stared blankly at them.

“Professor Levent is the founder of the Magic Mirror Club. He is a kind and generous wizard. The potion that cured you was also provided by Professor Levent. You can trust him completely. He would never harm you,” Melem said. “Listen to him after you are discharged from the hospital, Gilderoy.”

“Oh… okay,” Lockhart said.

Having changed into a light-colored casual robe, Lockhart followed the young professor away in a daze. He was unaware that several urgent letters had been sent from Hogwarts the night before. Before dawn, the headquarters of the Prophet's Newspaper in Diagon Alley had already begun preparations, with the newly established editing and post-production department being set up and a dedicated office prepared.

Mr. Lockhart's name tag was placed on his desk, but his name was hidden. He was directly managed by Editor-in-Chief Guffer, and only a few people in the entire newspaper dealt with this department.

The Prophet News program has reserved positions for editors.

With a trembling sound in the air, two figures flashed and moved through the folded space. Lockhart looked up and saw a three-story building in front of him, only slightly shorter than Gringotts.

He looked at the road sign and softly read out the familiar yet unfamiliar words:
"Headquarters of the Prophet's Newspaper".

(End of this chapter)