Suddenly being grabbed by Lockhart, Vid was a little surprised. He blinked, and before he could speak, a photo fra was forcefully stuffed into his hand.
Lockhart, in a golden wizard robe, walked back and forth in the photo, occasionally displaying his proud smile, his teeth dazzlingly white.
Lockhart’s unique fancy signature fell in the bottom right corner, where he playfully drew a flower at the end.
"Take it, it’s what you’ve always wanted."
Lockhart unceremoniously wrapped his arm around Vid’s shoulder, holding his own photo with him, cheerfully saying, "Smile, Vid!"
"Click," a black cara captured the mont.
Faint white smoke dissipated, and Vid squinted at the front.
After the bulky cara was put down, the face revealed was not Gryffindor’s Colin Creevey, but Rolf Scamander.
The boy blinked lightly, and Vid followed with a genuine smile.
"Thank you, Rolf!"
Lockhart patted Rolf’s shoulder and said affectionately, "Don’t forget to send a copy once the photos are developed. This is your reward."
He handed over a signed photo of himself.
"Okay, professor! Thank you, professor!"
Rolf, with the cara hanging around his neck, accepted the photo with both hands, looking very pleased.
"If you want another group photo, feel free to find anyti, Vid!"
Lockhart turned back to Vid and said loudly, "You know, you are one of my favorite students, I would never refuse such a small request!"
Emphasizing his intentions again, ensuring that the surrounding students heard clearly and solidifying the impression of a ’close teacher-student relationship,’ Lockhart saw Vid’s lips with a faint cold smile, dared not to listen for a response, and quickly moved through the crowd of students.
A group of girls bravely chased after him.
"Professor, please sign for too!"
"Professor, I also want a signed photo!"
Lockhart hadn’t gone far before he was surrounded by the girls. Happily, he took out his quill pen and began signing with excitent.
Only then did Rolf co over to Vid.
"I saw Professor Lockhart asking Gryffindor’s Colin to be the photographer, knowing you don’t like such things, so I offered to help."
He explained in a low voice, "I’ll destroy the film when I get back. If he asks, I’ll say it was accidentally exposed to light and ruined the film."
"No, give the photo."
Vid chuckled and said, "I’ll take it to Professor Lockhart."
Rolf blinked in confusion, looked at Vid’s aningful cold smile, and obediently agreed, "Okay."
...
In the afternoon, Vid received the photo.
The magic photo was in black and white; Vid saw Lockhart with ssy hair curled in a corner, panting, while he himself was nowhere to be found in the photo.
Vid searched carefully for a while before seeing a piece of clothing hem in the corner.
Compared to himself, the students in the picture stood out more.
For instance, Fred — Vid saw him constantly shaking his money pouch and exposing a cunning smile with George in the photo.
Vid, holding this photo that looked nothing like a group picture, with a cara hanging on his shoulder, headed to the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor’s office.
When Quirrell was still at school, Vid never approached here proactively, but during class, he often had to pass nearby, so he knew the location.
There were no Defense Against the Dark Arts classes this afternoon, and Vid knocked on the door, which quickly opened.
Lockhart probably thought the person at the door was one of his admirers, holding a quill pen ready to sign. Upon seeing Vid, he was clearly a bit surprised.
"Ah, Vid... it’s you..."
Lockhart couldn’t help but avoid eye contact when eting those gray eyes, suddenly feeling sowhat uneasy inside.
"I’ve co to deliver the photo, professor."
Vid shook the photo, and as Lockhart breathed a sigh of relief, Vid added, "Also, I’d like to ask you about so aspects of Defense Against the Dark Arts."
"Oh, oh, is that so, co in then."
The blond professor’s smile returned to his face.
—After all, just a child.
He thought lightly.
Vid walked in, and then there was a "bang" as the door closed.
Lockhart’s heart suddenly shrank, he turned around and saw Vid already holding his magic wand.
"The disarming spell you demonstrated in the club, there are still so parts I don’t quite understand, could you point them out again?"
The black-haired boy asked softly.
"Well... this... er... of course."
Lockhart’s gaze followed the photo, seeing Vid had no intention of giving it to him, eventually reluctantly agreed.
He pulled out his magic wand, feeling a slight sense of unease, but reassured himself by the thought that in front of him was a young student, an alchemist, suddenly feeling at ease.
—An alchemist... even if proficient in one or two masking spells, their magic level couldn’t be that good, right?
Just like him, only the Forgetfulness Spell is very well mastered... However poor his Defense Against the Dark Arts spell skills are, it’s impossible that he does not even match up with a second-year student...
...
Michael glanced at the ti, bid farewell to his friends, climbed the marble staircase to the third floor, and listened closely outside Lockhart’s office door, but heard nothing.
He asked a question in the "Friendship Book," but Vid did not respond.
Michael sighed, drew his magic wand, pointed at the door lock, and whispered, "Alohomora!"
The lock clicked and turned, opening the door.
Michael had just opened the door a crack when he heard a loud bang, followed by clattering sounds.
He shrank back in shock and cautiously peeked inside only after the noise subsided.
Broken bottles and countless picture fras lay shattered all over the floor, and the photos of Lockhart cowered nervously in corners, trembling.
Lockhart himself lay in a corner, his eyes tightly shut, face bruised and bloodied, with a large splash of green ink on his chest.
Michael widened his eyes, quickly slipped into the office, and closed the door, asking in a hushed voice, "Is he still alive?"
As he spoke, he rolled up his sleeves as if preparing to help cover-up evidence.
Vid wanted to ask why he was being sneaky, but couldn’t help but chuckle at the words.
"Of course not, I just consulted the professor about the Disarming Spell. Professor Lockhart... taught very diligently."
He said casually while raising his cara to take a picture of Lockhart.
The flashbulb went off, and Lockhart reflexively smiled, only to realize his miserable state was utterly unfit for dia, groaning in anguish.
Hearing him, Michael finally let out a sigh of relief.
"I thought you had taken out our Defense Against the Dark Arts professor..."
He whispered.
"Why would I?" Vid said, "It’s not easy for Professor Dumbledore to find us a Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, though the professor..."
He crouched down slightly, and Lockhart scurried back.
Vid politely said, "I personally don’t like my picture appearing in any newspapers or magazines, nor do I wish to be associated with a celebrity like you... Can you understand how I feel?"
Lockhart, holding the wound on his forehead, looked at him in terror, his eyes flicking over the cara and photos before quickly nodding.
"Thank you for your understanding."
The "photo" in Vid’s hand spontaneously combusted, reducing to a handful of black ash in the blink of an eye, which fell onto the ssy floor.
"Then we’ll take our leave... Just in ti for dinner approaching, thank you very much for your dedicated instruction today, Professor Lockhart."
Vid stood up and softly said to the quite pitifully lying Lockhart,
"I hope you take care of yourself. If there’s another opportunity, I’ll learn spells from you again."
Michael inwardly thought — is this a threat? This must be a threat, right? Look at Professor Lockhart, he seems about to cry!
Though he thought thus, he actually didn’t sympathize with Lockhart at all.
The two turned around, Michael stepped over two picture fras, and reached out to pull the door open.
Vid seed to be walking sowhat slowly for so reason.
Behind them, Lockhart’s eyes flickered, watching the students rub their magic wands before putting them back in their bags.
Enduring what felt like every bone in his body being shattered, Lockhart painfully reached out, grasping his own magic wand.
He hesitated for a mont, finally raising his wand and shouting just as the two were about to leave—
"Obli...!"
"Bang!"
Lockhart didn’t even see how Vid struck; he just felt as if he had been charged by a rhinoceros in the chest, sending him flying back, and with a "smack," plastered against the wall, before slowly sliding down.
It felt like his nose was broken, a sharp pain instantly filled his eyes with tears, but he still strained to open his eyes further—
Indeed, Vid had no magic wand in hand.
He pointed single-handedly at Lockhart, his expression seemingly unsurprised, while Michael beside him looked both shocked and furious.
"No need to see us off, Professor."
Lockhart heard his student say condescendingly, "Thank you so much for today."
Footsteps clattered away while the office door slamd shut.
"Despicable!"
Once outside, Michael angrily said, "As a professor, to sneak attack! And with a Forgetfulness Spell! That’s illegal!"
Vid’s voice was low, saying sothing indiscernible, followed by Michael’s cursing.
Like he was the one who suffered the loss.
The voices soon drifted far away until they were inaudible.
Lockhart wiped the blood from his nose, for the first ti caring less about maintaining his perfect image, his mind buzzing with a deafening noise.
He felt he might have suffered a concussion.
But more importantly—
Wandless spell... Is this truly the level of a twelve-year-old student...?
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