章 40: 040 Lockhart's Teaching Method
The first week of February had arrived, and the Hogwarts Castle was abuzz with the anticipation of Valentine's Day. The Forbidden Forest, usually shrouded in a cloak of winter, began to show signs of new life as the gentle spring breeze breathed life into the withered trees, causing them to sprout fresh buds in abundance.
While the younger students in the first and second grades remained blissfully unaware of the significance of Valentine's Day, the middle and senior students understood the importance of this festival all too well. Love was in the air, and the castle was brimming with excitement.
Cedric stood at the entrance of the Ravenclaw common room, a mischievous glint in his eyes. Encouraged by his roommates, he blocked the path of a beautiful Chinese girl, clutching in his hands a carefully crafted singing Cupid card. The forbidden forest outside seemed to mirror the budding romance within the castle walls, as new life sprouted from the once withered trees under the gentle touch of the spring breeze.
In another part of the castle, the studious Percy couldn't bear the loneliness that Valentine's Day brought. Seizing an opportune moment during Professor McGonagall's transfiguration class, he skillfully transformed a salamander into the likeness of his beloved Penelope. A mischievous smirk danced across his face as he relished a few moments of pretending to be with her.
The usually enigmatic Headmaster Dumbledore, known for his wisdom and eccentricity, surprised the staff with a rare display of gentlemanly charm. He ordered bouquets of flowers from Hogsmeade, personally selecting and sending one to every female staff member of Hogwarts. The castle was filled with the sweet scent of roses, lilies, and daisies, spreading a sense of warmth and appreciation throughout the corridors. Of course, the flamboyant Professor Lockhart couldn't resist the allure of the occasion. Overjoyed at lunch, he announced his grand plan to write a song for everyone in the school, teasing that he had a magnificent surprise in store for Valentine's Day.
However, not everyone shared Lockhart's enthusiasm. The dark and brooding Professor Snape, known for his sarcasm and disdain, couldn't hide his contempt for Lockhart's grandstanding. With a cold, low voice, he leaned towards Bryan, his potions apprentice, and whispered, "Is it possible for you to eliminate this imbecile before that day arrives?"
Bryan, caught off guard by Snape's request, chewed his bacon thoughtfully, dumbfounded by the suggestion. "I'll do my best, Professor," he replied, contemplating Snape's words. "But why don't you concoct a poison yourself? After all, you are a master of potions. I believe you excel in such matters."
After lunch, Bryan used the short break to review the surveillance footage from the previous night, hoping to uncover any clues. But to his frustration, the footage revealed nothing of significance.
As Monday afternoon arrived, the Gryffindor and Slytherin sixth-years gathered for their shared Defense Against the Dark Arts class. The classroom was adorned with the air of anticipation, Ten minutes before two o'clock in the afternoon, the sixth-grade students arrived in the classroom one after another. Although the news had already spread, when the little wizards found that Mr. Investigator had really appeared in their class, they still showed expressions of surprise and excitement. Their eyes darting between Bryan and the empty podium. He had chosen to wear a brand-new black wizard robe, a symbol of respect for the occasion.
Professor Lockhart hadn't come yet, and only Bryan was standing on the podium with a smile on his face, facing the noisy Gryffindor and Slytherin students who were sitting in distinct positions.
Everyone here had been with Bryan in school, but he didn't remember most of them except for a select few.
"Flint, I heard that you are now the captain of the Slytherin team?" When Bryan spoke, the voice in the classroom seemed to suddenly pause, and all eyes were on Marcus and Bryan.
"Yes, sir,..... I mean Professor Watson," Flint said, his voice trembling slightly. He stood up instinctively, feeling dwarfed by the professor's presence. As a seasoned Quidditch player known for his rough style, Flint was accustomed to a different kind of pressure. But facing a professor who was also an investigator was an entirely new experience for him.
Bryan nodded approvingly, acknowledging Flint's response. "You should strive hard, Flint. I hope the Slytherin team achieves great success under your leadership." His words carried a sense of encouragement, but When Bryan said this, the faces of the Gryffindors who were curious about him immediately turned cold, and some diehard Quidditch fans even showed hatred in their eyes.
After Oliver and Percy, who were sitting in the crowd, looked at each other, they both lowered their heads, pretending to be reading "Walking with Trolls" spread out on the table.
Bryan's encouragement made the little wizards of Slytherin proud. They subconsciously thought that Professor Watson and Professor Snape were similar in style, and they took care of their own people very much. Marcus, who was the first to be named, was even a little carried away. After glancing haughtily at Oliver, who bowed his head, he smiled slyly and said loudly, "Thank you for your support, Professor Watson. We, all of us in Slytherin, are very excited about you being a teaching assistant, professor. We think you will be the best professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts in recent years. So, what are you going to teach us?"
Oliver Wood almost buried his head under the table and secretly made a disgusted face. Even Percy, a model student, didn't look all that happy.
"Hehe, thank you also for your support, Flint," Bryan did not pursue Marcus Flint's little scheme. He nodded and smiled, "As you said, Flint, I'm just a teaching assistant, and Professor Lockhart is still in charge of your teaching plan."
At this moment, Lockhart strode in with the wind, and today he was wearing a dark plum-colored robe. Bryan noticed that in the many times he had met Professor Lockhart, it seemed that he had never seen him wearing a robe of the same type.
"Writing books really makes you that much money?" Bryan had this thought in his mind when he walked up to greet him.
"It seems that you have already introduced yourself, right, Professor Watson?" Lockhart smiled brightly and patted Bryan's shoulder heavily, as if he was speaking to a junior he valued.
"Just a simple greeting, Professor Lockhart—" Bryan moved his shoulders away calmly and said with a friendly smile, "Like the little wizards, I am looking forward to your wonderful lecture!"
"Oh, crap, looks like it's the same bunch!" someone whispered this sentence within the group of Gryffindor students.
Bryan's expression twitched, and he was sure that Lockhart had also heard this sentence because for a moment, Lockhart's expression froze, but he immediately returned to normal.
"So..." Bryan, who had no idea what was going to happen next, was a little confused, so he stared at the suddenly lifeless classroom. "Where should we start, Professor Lockhart?"
"Oh, don't worry, Watson, the little ones are already familiar!" In the next two hours, Bryan finally saw Lockhart's unique teaching method. He called the names of the students one by one and asked them to recite long sections of the storybooks he wrote, with the little wizards asked to be full of emotion.
Lockhart stood at the podium, pretending not to see the painful expressions on the faces of the little wizards, looking happy. Of course, if the recitation was not emotional enough, Lockhart would personally demonstrate. He also made some exaggerated and funny body movements in an attempt to improve the classroom atmosphere, but in the end, no one paid attention to him.
The only thing Bryan could do was to help Lockhart maintain classroom discipline.
"Have you always... taught them this way?" Taking advantage of Lockhart's panting time after reading a long description of the process of subduing the troll, Bryan casually swayed to his side and said with a tactful tone.
"Aha, eager to express yourself, aren't you!" Lockhart pointed his finger at his nose. His eyes were very 'tactful'. He ignored Bryan's explanation and directly stopped the use of dull, lifeless Percy reading the textbook in a low voice. "The opportunity to become famous is here, Watson. It's up to you if you can seize it!"
He forced the textbook into Bryan's hand and shouted to everyone with a radiant face, "Let me show you how a true fan expresses profound admiration for Professor Lockhart with his passionate voice!"
*Snickers*—— Looking at the bewildered Mr. Investigator beside Lockhart on the podium, Wood burst out laughing.
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章 41: 041 Plotting Against Lockhart
When Bryan witnessed a jubilant group of young wizards exiting Lockhart's classroom, he found himself engulfed in a whirlwind of confusion, existential doubts, and bewilderment. However, he finally understood one thing: why neither Headmaster Dumbledore nor Professor McGonagall could tolerate Lockhart's teaching methods.
As Bryan made his way back to his office, still reeling from being forced to endure half a book's worth of absurdity, he considered the possibility that this might be an isolated case. However, the following days shattered that hope, exposing the harsh reality of Lockhart's ridiculous teaching methods. He couldn't help but wonder, "Why would Dumbledore choose such an eccentric person?"
On Thursday morning, Bryan left the first-year classroom and headed towards the auditorium for lunch, filled with sympathy for the young wizards. Reflecting on his own time as a student at Hogwarts, he recalled how the Defense Against the Dark Arts professors changed each year, their abilities varying. However, those professors had always taught with sincerity, unlike Lockhart, who transformed the class into a theatrical performance.
Yesterday afternoon, during Harry's first encounter with Lockhart as their Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Bryan had initially hoped that Lockhart would exhibit some restraint in front of the "protagonist" of this world. However, his hopes were shattered as he was forced to participate in a two-hour play where he portrayed a grateful villager from the Himalayas, while Lockhart coerced Potter into playing the role of a snowman, all while Lockhart potrayed himself taking the center stage.
"Do something, Professor Watson!"
As the Defense Against the Dark Arts class finally concluded, a distressed Harry, thrown around by Lockhart's antics and accidentally falling off the table, clutched his leg in pain, uttering desperate words of pleading. Ron covered his mouth, desperately trying to hold back his laughter. However, he soon bared his teeth and screamed when Hermione passed by, carrying several Lockhart books, and stomped on his foot.
"I thought your performance was brilliant, Professor Watson!"
Hermione glared fiercely at Ron, then blushed and said something to Bryan before quickly running away.
A great performance? Is that what it was, Miss Granger?
Bryan looked at the little girl running away in surprise, his face filled with confusion.
"Her opinion is different from ours, Professor Watson," Dean Thomas said to Bryan rationally. "Hermione greatly admires Professor Lockhart. She has been trying to convince everyone that the absurd adventures described in Lockhart's books are true. However, she has been unable to provide evidence. But now, she has finally found a fan of Professor Lockhart—a significant figure."
Raising an eyebrow, Bryan inquired, "Who might that be?"
"It's you, Professor Watson" . Harry observed Bryan's expression discreetly and cautiously said, "Hermione told me that she overheard Lockhart calling you his loyal fan—"
Bryan rolled his eyes inwardly and carefully considered the suggestion Professor Snape had made to him recently.
During lunchtime, while Lockhart was engrossed in a tedious conversation with Professor Flitwick, Professor McGonagall turned her head and fixed a stern gaze upon Bryan, speaking in a barely audible voice, "Professor Watson, Hogwarts pays your salary not to recite and perform with him but to show your true abilities. You promised me!"
Setting aside the lemon tart in his hand, Bryan surveyed the bustling Great Hall. He noticed Draco Malfoy, looking at him with a puzzled expression from the Slytherin table, while several Ravenclaw girls pointed among each other, laughed, and shook their heads.
"Headmaster Dumbledore..."
Dumbledore's beard seemed to possess a life of its own, trembling with a mind of its own accord.
"Do you have any advice, Bryan?"
Bryan blinked, adopting a calm tone as he responded, "No, Headmaster Dumbledore. I simply have a suggestion."
Curiosity piqued, Dumbledore shook his beard and refocused on the conversation. "What might that be?"
Bryan lowered his head slightly and replied, "Would you mind if I invited Professor Lockhart for a drink and accidentally added something to his glass, causing him to spend some time in the hospital bed?"
Snape, who had been staring at Bryan intently until that moment, finally broke his gaze and a faint smile curled at the corners of his mouth. A flicker of expression appeared in his otherwise vacant eyes. "--Do you remember what I taught you in your first-year Potions class, Bryan?"
"Adding narcissus root powder to a wormwood infusion creates a potent sleeping draught. When consumed with alcohol and left untreated, it induces a state of confusion that impairs speech. The effects can last for two months."
Bryan nonchalantly nodded at Snape and replied, "You know, Professor Snape, my memory has always been quite good. And what about you, Headmaster Dumbledore?"
Dumbledore cleared his throat, raising his head and suddenly appearing alert. He began studying the patterns on the chandelier above the auditorium, his blue eyes less piercing and distant. "This year, I turned 112, and the passage of time never ceases to astonish me. Lately, I've been keenly aware of its effects. My legs and feet aren't as agile as they used to be, my vision is starting to blur, and my hearing isn't as sharp. I must admit that I didn't catch a single word of what you three were discussing with Severus and Minerva just now..."
Professor McGonagall pursed her lips tightly, shooting a mixture of helplessness and annoyance filled gaze towards Dumbledore.
However, Dumbledore didn't give McGonagall an opportunity to voice her complaints. He stood up directly, addressing the group of professors who had been conspiring to harm a renowned writer and Hogwarts' Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. Due to his declining health, he needed to return to his office and rest, immediately leaving the gathering.
"I will deliver what you need to your office before 9 p.m. tonight," Snape offered as he, too, stood up, his departing figure expressing impatience.
"Poppy!"
Under Bryan's meaningful gaze, Professor McGonagall, feeling somewhat ashamed and irritated, turned to Madam Pomfrey, who was preparing fish soup. "If you're free tonight, could you come to my office? There's something I'd like to discuss with you privately..."
"Oh, no problem, Minerva. I'll be there on time!" Madam Pomfrey, anticipating a possible raise in her salary, beamed with joy and eagerly agreed.
"Ahem, Professor Lockhart..."
After Professor McGonagall's departure, the staff table, once crowded, now appeared almost half-empty. Flitwick swiftly departed while Bryan remained engaged in conversation with Lockhart, exhibiting movements that vaguely hinted at his past glory as a dueling champion.
"Ah, Bryan, you also want to receive my Valentine's Day card in advance, just like Filius. Oh, this truly puts me in a dilemma. But..."
Interrupting Lockhart's rambling, Bryan stated firmly, "I learned from Miss Granger that your favorite birthday present was a case of Ogden's Old Firewhiskey when I taught your class in the second year. How fortunate for me to possess a bottle over 80 years old, a gift from Headmaster Dumbledore. I wonder if you would be honored to join me for a drink at the Three Broomsticks this Saturday?"
"Now, do the two of you have anything else to say?"
At the Gryffindor table, Hermione, who had been eavesdropping on the conversation, glanced at Harry and Ron, who exchanged looks, before lifting her chin with pride.
"He's one of his fans!"
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