042 Lockhart’s condition
Words : 1342
Updated : Sep 10th, 2025
042 Lockhart’s condition
The first weekend in February arrived with a delightful surprise—a clear and sunny day enveloped the school grounds near the Black Lake and Forbidden Forest. The warmth of the sun cast a golden glow on the landscape, coaxing senior boys and girls out of their usual routines. Ignoring the whispers of younger wizards and the disapproving glances from professors, the young couples gathered together, their faces filled with blissful smiles.
Huddled close to one another, they shared intimate moments, affectionately touching noses and whispering sweet nothings into each other's ears. Their presence created an air of enchantment around the school grounds, where the anticipation of Valentine's Day hung in the air. They seemed oblivious to the rules and regulations, their hearts consumed by the exhilarating joy of young love.
"This is outrageous! Why aren't the prefects and professors doing anything about it?" Hermione thought indignantly. She had gotten up early to go to the library and noticed at least five or six couples on her way there.
The library, usually bustling with studious activity, wore a different ambiance that day. The stern figure of Madam Pince sat at her usual spot, her eyes fixed on a book with a gilded cover. Scattered among the narrow aisles and countless bookshelves were only a handful of upper-year students, engrossed in their preparations for the upcoming O.W.L.s and N.E.W.T.s exams.
Undeterred by the lack of companionship, Hermione skillfully navigated through the labyrinthine rows of bookshelves, her determined eyes scanning the titles. The library held a vast repository of knowledge, and Hermione sought to unearth the mystery of chamber of secrets. Finally, her searching fingers found what she sought—a weathered copy of "Forgotten Ancient Magic and Curses." With excitement bubbling within her, she leaned against the shelf, cradling the book in her hands.
Since Fred and George had taken off without saying a word, Wood had no choice but to reluctantly announce the cancellation of that day's training session. This rare cancellation meant that Harry could enjoy a leisurely weekend for once. He had originally planned to accompany Hermione in searching for clues, but before they left, Ron grabbed him and said, "Wood gave you a break! Don't waste your precious weekend on something futile, Harry. Seamus got a new set of Gobstones; I can borrow them, and we can pass the time!"
Easily persuaded, Harry decided to join Ron, and in the end, it was only Hermione who went to the library alone, hoping to find a trace of the attack within the vast ocean of books of knowledge and history.
Sunlight streamed through the dusty air, casting ethereal beams of light that danced among the bookshelves. The motes of dust, suspended in mid-air, appeared like tiny fairies, adding a touch of magic to the scene. Hermione, her young face a portrait of earnest determination, began immersing herself in the intricate and dense text of the ancient tome, hoping to discover any clues that could shed light on the petrification of Colin and Justin.
As Hermione engrossed herself in her studies, her surroundings faded into the background, and time seemed to lose its meaning. The towering pile of books around her grew steadily, threatening to surpass her own slender shoulders. Yet, Hermione remained unfazed, her passion for finding the perpetrator of the Chamber of Secrets fueling her perseverance.
Bryan Watson, who had come from the Restricted Section, silently watched for a while. Somehow, ripples stirred in his heart as if he saw his younger self in Hermione.
"Miss Granger—"
"Ah, Professor Watson!" Hermione turned her head in surprise, momentarily distracted from her book. When she saw Professor Watson strolling towards her with a smile, she quickly closed the book she was holding and stood up a bit flustered. "Apologies, Professor, I didn't notice you here!"
Apart from their awkward encounter during the Christmas holidays in the hospital wing, this was Hermione's first time meeting Professor Watson in an unofficial setting.
Bryan Watson glanced at the books Hermione was hugging and felt a sense of understanding. He nodded at Hermione and gently asked, "Are you searching for clues about the Chamber of Secrets?"
Upon receiving Hermione's affirmative reply, Bryan Watson looked around in surprise.
"You're the only one here, Miss Granger. What about your good friends, Potter and Weasley? Aren't they here to help you?"
"Oh, them!"
Down the marble staircase, Headmaster Dumbledore and several professors rushed with grave expressions etched upon their faces. In no time, they dispersed the crowd, leading Bryan Watson, who was riding a broomstick, up the stairs.
Harry's heart sank, his thoughts immediately turning to the worst-case scenario—had the heir of Slytherin resumed their activities? An unspoken understanding passed between Harry and Ron as they exchanged pale glances. They hurriedly followed Dumbledore, their footsteps echoing on the ascending staircase, their minds filled with apprehension.
Inside the hospital wing, the sight that greeted them was far from what they expected. Professor Lockhart lay on a bed, his usually charming demeanor replaced by disheveled hair, bloodshot eyes, and desperate grunting sounds. Madam Pomfrey examined him with deep concern etched on her face, her every movement meticulous.
Dumbledore allowed the students to visit Professor Lockhart, and a sense of unease filled the air as they gathered outside the curtains, exchanging anxious glances. Hermione managed to squeeze her way to the front, her eyes welling up with tears at the sight of Lockhart's pitiful state. She couldn't help but cover her mouth, stifling her sobs as compassion overwhelmed her.
Bryan Watson, who witnessed this scene, felt a sense of guilt. He reflected on whether he had taken his playful act too far. However, when he saw Severus Snape standing in the shadows, seemingly struggling to hold back a laugh, his mood calmed down.
Dumbledore approached Lockhart's bed, concealing his emotions from everyone. "How is the situation, Poppy?" he asked Madam Pomfrey, his voice filled with concern.
"It's very bad, Headmaster," Madam Pomfrey replied, her tone grave. She quickly glanced at Professor McGonagall, who had a stern expression, and explained to everyone, "It's a severe case of alcohol allergy, Headmaster. He'll probably be spending Easter in the hospital bed. Oh, didn't anyone know that Professor Lockhart can't handle alcoholic beverages?"
Hermione's eyes widened in confusion. Wasn't a box of Ogden's Old Fire-whiskey the birthday present Lockhart wanted the most? With tears streaming down her face, she raised her head and murmured with a trembling voice.
"It's all my fault, Headmaster!"
Bryan Watson stepped forward with a sorrowful expression. "I didn't clarify the situation before insisting that Professor Lockhart have a drink. Oh, he probably didn't want to offend me, so he reluctantly agreed. I... I feel truly ashamed. If you allow, I can resign immediately as a form of self-punishment!"
"No, that's not necessary," Dumbledore interjected, his voice gentle yet firm.
Before Professor McGonagall could even take a step to express her opinion, much to everyone's surprise, Professor Lockhart, barely clinging to life, summoned the strength to speak. He strained and swayed, extending his hand toward Bryan, murmuring in a barely audible voice, "Br...i... a message?"
"What did you say, Professor Lockhart? Is there something else you wish to convey?" Bryan immediately moved aside Dumbledore, crouching by the bedside and grasping Lockhart's hand. His other hand, concealed within his sleeve, prepared to cast a curative spell at a moment's notice.
"Hehehe... Hermione!" Lockhart unexpectedly called out Hermione's name once again. Bryan's eyebrows twitched, but ultimately, he complied with Lockhart's "last wish" and summoned Hermione to the bedside.
"I'm here, Professor. What do you wish to tell me?" Hermione's voice trembled as tears cascaded down her face.
"You... both... fans..." Lockhart, his complexion ashen, laboriously uttered each word. "Help me... write a response!"
AN: Gobstone's are wizarding chess like games.
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