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Because Professor Lockhart was lying in the hospital wing, under Madam Pomfrey's 'attentive' care, the usual ridiculous events of Valentine's Day on February 14th did not occur as they did in the original story.
However, the school still made a small effort. Young wizards entering the Great Hall for breakfast that morning were surprised to find the hall decorated with a circle of faint golden ribbons by the professors.
Multicolored confetti slowly floated down from the light blue ceiling. A small Cupid, with pure white wings, stood at the main entrance of the castle, smiling and offering a vibrant red rose to everyone who entered and exited.
When Harry and Ron, pretending to be nonchalant, simultaneously gave their roses to Hermione, Hermione, who had been gloomy all evening, finally broke into a smile.
Nothing much to say about this day. No topic could steal the spotlight on Valentine's Day more than innocent and pure young love. Hermione didn't mention anything about studying. Even Wood, who walked into the courtyard and saw Harry, didn't mention anything about matches or training plans.
Most students above third year went to Hogsmeade. The flat lawn prepared for flying lessons was filled with first and second-year young wizards.
Harry, Ron, and Hermione bathed in the soft sunlight, playing wizard chess for a morning on the lawn. After lunch, Harry and Ron decided to visit Hagrid, while Hermione, clutching her handmade card, went to the hospital wing alone.
At two in the afternoon, as previously agreed, Hermione rushed to the third floor of the castle and knocked on a certain professor's office door.
"Come in—"
The voice from behind the door sounded tired. Hermione didn't think much of it and directly pushed the door open and walked in.
Professor Lockhart's office. The portraits and photos that usually covered the walls had been neatly gathered and piled in a corner. Professor Brain was sitting in Lockhart's chair, facing the window sideways, watching the owls that occasionally flew in to drop off letters, sighing. And in the middle of the office floor, there were probably one or two thousand such letters piled up!
"I never knew Professor Lockhart had so many fans!"
Amostas, sitting behind the desk, had an expression like he had a toothache.
"If I had known earlier, I'd rather help Professor Snape handle frog guts and slug slime than agree to help him write replies!"
"But aren't you Professor Lockhart's fan, Professor Brain? You should know Professor Lockhart's influence!"
Hermione, who had come from the hospital wing, still had slightly red eyes. But when she saw Professor Brain sitting there with a melancholic expression, she couldn't help but quietly purse her lips.
"Don't mention it, Miss Granger!"
Amostas violently waved his wand. The thousands of letters lying on the floor formed a white tornado in mid-air. Then, they neatly stacked themselves back on the floor, one by one. When the last letter found its place, a 'letter pillar' formed in the office, level with the ceiling!
"I won't take advantage of you, Miss Granger. Let's split it half and half. I hope we can make it for dinner tomorrow."
Amostas, who had spent almost the entire night in the Restricted Section of the library, rubbed his swollen eyes and yawned.
Thus, the most arduous work began. Amostas and Hermione crouched on opposite sides of the desk, dealing with the 'letter pillar'. To be honest, helping Lockhart reply to letters could be considered the most boring thing Amostas had encountered in years.
The contents of the letters were all the same: either nauseating flattery, requests for signed photos, or demands for more updates.
In short, writing replies to Professor Lockhart's fans was very tedious. Amostas barely used more than ten words per letter, but even so, after an hour, he couldn't stand it anymore.
Hermione, sitting opposite him, had a completely different attitude. She seemed to consider helping Professor Lockhart write replies a rare honor. So, she carefully read the content of each letter and meticulously wrote down her replies.
Time slowly flowed. Two hours later, Hermione looked back at the 'letter pillar', which had only decreased by a third at most. She rubbed her aching wrist, then looked at Professor Brain and found that he hadn't replied to any letters. Instead, he was leaning back in his soft chair, staring blankly at the ceiling, utterly bored.
"Professor Brain, we promised Professor Lockhart we would help!"
Hermione pursed her lips, looking exactly like Professor McGonagall. She cried out in dissatisfaction.
So, under Hermione's urging, the resigned Amostas began to deal with the fan mail again. And this time, Miss Granger would look up every once in a while to check if he was "working" diligently, which left Amostas no chance to slack off.
Amostas and Hermione had dinner in the office. If he wanted to save time, Professor Brain could have just ordered the house-elves to bring food directly, but to get a little more rest, he decided to walk to the Great Hall himself to retrieve the food.
"Professor Brain—"
During dinner, Hermione wasn't looking at the letters either. She unhurriedly chewed her steak, stealing glances at Professor Brain, whose light purple eyes seemed to hide unfathomable magic under the lamplight. For some reason, her heart suddenly beat faster by a few beats.
"Regarding what you mentioned to me last week in the library—"
"Hm?"
Amostas lowered his head, dealing with the food on his plate, only responding with a hum. After swallowing his food, he looked at Hermione, whose cheeks were slightly flushed.
"You've had some insights, Miss Granger?"
Hermione didn't speak. She didn't know how to describe the faint feeling of loneliness in her heart. After a moment, under Amostas's gentle gaze, she hesitated and nodded.
"The strong will always be lonely, Miss Granger, but life will eventually be lonely too. Apart from ideals and beliefs, everyone and everything we meet on our path to oblivion can only accompany us for a while. Once you understand this, there's nothing to be hesitant about."
Amostas's indifferent words, instead of reassuring the young witch opposite him, made her fall into even greater panic.
After dinner, Amostas entered a state of complete collapse. No matter how angrily Miss Granger glared at him, he remained sprawled indifferently in his chair, his bored gaze wandering around.
Professor Lockhart's desk was piled with his personal books from various publishers. At the bottom of a few autobiographies on the top left corner of the desk, Amostas last time coincidentally saw some research on memory-based magic and ancient wizarding manuscripts. Honestly, these were extremely valuable items. Amostas himself would definitely keep them close to him, instead of throwing them around like Lockhart.
Although he really wanted to take them out and research them, his most basic moral integrity forced Amostas to suppress this urge.
To the right of the desk was also a thick stack of manuscripts. When he first entered the office, Amostas had glanced at them. This seemed to be Professor Lockhart's new, unpublished book, titled "A Year Living with the Somerset Giant."
"Tsk tsk, heavy stuff!"
Because he was bored, Amostas picked up this manuscript. Compared to the ancient wizarding research manuscripts, this one was less taboo.
Candlelight flickered. A cool evening breeze gently rustled the glass. The office was silent, with only the rustling of quills on parchment and the turning of book pages.
After an unknown period, Hermione, who had been buried in work, suddenly frowned. She inexplicably felt a chill. She looked up in a daze, and after her gaze swept around, she found the source of the coldness: a sneer on the lips of Amostas, who was intently flipping through the manuscript.
"Professor—"
After some hesitation, Hermione finally opened her mouth and cautiously asked, "What are you looking at?"
"Professor Lockhart's new book manuscript. It records the process of him 'uncovering' this story. I have to say, it's very interesting—"
Didn't Professor Lockhart's books record his personal experiences? Why did Professor Brain use the word 'uncover'?
And, looking at Professor Lockhart's private manuscript without permission... That's not very good, Professor!
Before Hermione could ask, Amostas thudded the manuscript onto the desk. His calm voice held an undeniable authority.
"That's enough for today, Miss Granger. You can go back and rest."
Looking at Hermione, who closed the door and still looked confused, Amostas's eyes flashed with sympathy. When the day came for Professor Lockhart to fall into disgrace, Miss Granger would probably be utterly ashamed of having once admired such scum.
Amostas stood up and violently waved his wand. The closed drawers under the desk and the suitcases placed against the wall all opened simultaneously. Stacks of secretly hidden manuscripts flew from all directions to Amostas, floating in mid-air, slowly turning page by page, revealing to Amostas the unknown, heinous, and unforgivable secrets they recorded.
"Hmph—"
After a while, Amostas, who had cursorily read through all the manuscripts, let out a cold snort. He looked at the framed picture on the tea table. The wizard in the frame was no longer smiling broadly but was cowering in a corner of the frame, staring at Amostas in horror, trembling all over.
"You have some guts, Professor Lockhart. You've impressed me—"
Amostas, standing alone in the office, murmured with a light chuckle.
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