Chapter 124: Repaying Evil with Evil

Hogwarts had four houses in a year, and for most classes, except for some special ones, two houses attended together. Courses like Defense Against the Dark Arts had two classes per week.

So, with a simple calculation, one professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts had to teach eight classes a week for first and second-year students. Thankfully, for third and fourth years, there was only one class a week, and fifth years had two classes a week due to the pressure of Ordinary Wizarding Levels (OWLs). Sixth and seventh years had elective classes, with only one per week.

Thus, a Defense Against the Dark Arts professor had to teach eighteen classes a week. Eighteen classes! Was there no justice in the world? When Tom saw this schedule, he felt his blood pressure skyrocket.

He looked at his desk, and an idea sprouted in his mind. He immediately sat down, took out a quill, and began to modify it. He wanted to give this quill an automatic grading function.

As a skilled alchemy apprentice with a similar structure, modifying the quill for Tom was relatively easy—basically, he needed to create a simple program to recognize ABCD and accumulate points.

In the following week, Tom attended classes during the day and, as Professor Lohart, prepared the new semester's teaching content, modified quills, and brewed potions in the office at night.

He did a lot of things, except for doing homework because if his plan succeeded, he wouldn't need to assign homework this semester.

The week passed calmly, Snape, after having something stolen, didn't make a fuss. However, he significantly increased the frequency of deducting points from Gryffindor.

"Potter, your potion is too diluted, Gryffindor loses five points!"

"Potter, your potion is too thick, Gryffindor loses five points!"

"Potter, your desk mate Ron's potion is too thick, and you didn't even remind him, Gryffindor loses..."

"Potter, you actually talked during the class..."

Snape poured almost all of his deducted points onto Gryffindor, indirectly causing Gryffindor to be firmly at the bottom of the house points leaderboard.

...

In the spacious office, there were several mirrors and a fluffy rabbit.

"Hiss!" A huge, brightly colored snake creature appeared in the office. The snake's lantern-like eyes met the rabbit's eyes, and the rabbit showed an extremely frightened expression before falling to the ground, stiff like a board.

Although it looked terrifying, the rabbit faced the snake creature Tom transformed into, and it didn't die.

"As expected, the weaknesses of the recorded magical creatures compared to the originals lie in their eyesight." Tom sighed. The ability of his Borgin's Ring was to record magical creatures, transform into them, and inherit some of their abilities.

Generally, the rarer the ability, the more severely weakened it would be. The phoenix's rebirth was weakened into accelerated recovery, and the snake creature's direct death gaze was lowered one level of lethality, turning into permanent petrification.

Tom took out another rabbit, allowing it to see the eyes of the snake creature through the mirror. This time, the rabbit only stiffened for a while and then regained its mobility. If the eyes of the snake creature in the mirror had been reflected once before, it completely lost its petrification ability, causing only panic.

Tom maintained a calm demeanor. This was expected, and there was nothing to regret. After researching his new ability, he sat at the desk and took out a parchment, starting to write. Today was Sunday, and he was preparing for Monday's class.

During this week, Tom also investigated the teaching aids that Hogwarts professors could use, and he indeed found some good things, like the magical copier in front of him.

This machine was a combination of the Muggle printer and copier, helping Hogwarts teachers print papers. However, it was only used during final exams. Since that was the case, Tom got it from Flich—heaps of them were gathering dust in the warehouse anyway. Might as well let me, Lohart, take care of it. He also brought in dozens of pounds of parchment from the school warehouse.

Although it sounded like a lot, due to the thick quality of Hogwarts parchment, one sheet of parchment weighed about ten grams. A pound was only fifty sheets, and Tom could use up dozens of pounds of paper in a month.

Tom stuffed the written papers into the opening above the magic copier and said, "Make three hundred copies first."

"Okay." The copier accepted the task and began to work rapidly. A sheet of parchment was swallowed into its belly and turned into a test paper.

While the copier was copying, Tom took out a small bottle filled with bubbling, syrupy potion resembling sugar syrup. He pulled out a hair from his head and added it.

The potion made a loud noise, like boiling water. After a second, it clarified—just like a chemical reaction. The originally viscous complex potion turned into clear water.

Tom opened a box and walked in. Lohart was sitting there with vacant eyes, his hair dry and messy, and his chin looking shriveled, appearing exhausted.

He looked at Tom, eyes hollow.

"Lohart, please drink water." Tom handed the bottle of complex potion to him.

Lohart became flustered, "Wait, I won't drink, I—"

Tom directly pinched his cheeks and poured the complex potion into him. After drinking, Lohart collapsed on the ground, convulsing frantically, like a boiled shrimp. His skin had a melting sensation, rapidly bubbling, and he crawled on the ground, gasping and moaning loudly. Then, his skeleton rapidly shrank, and his hair turned black.

Pain came and went quickly. After the transformation was complete, everything stopped. Lohart lay on the cold ground, his robes soaked with cold sweat.

But in the next moment, he saw a scene that made his heart stop: another him was standing in front of him, smiling.

"Now, you look much better." Tom transformed into Lohart's appearance, walked in front of the Lohart that now looked like Tom, and their identities had swapped.

"You, you!" Lohart said in horror but couldn't articulate further.

Tom grabbed his collar, lifting him up. "The moment you took away someone's memory and claimed someone else's honor, you should have been mentally prepared for today. Your identity is useful to me, so I'll take it."

"Tom, ahhh—" Lohart let out a beast-like roar, but in the next moment, he seemed like his throat was pinched, and his roar was suppressed. He saw a pair of snake pupils that made his hair stand on end.

His memories began to surge.

Lohart recalled his childhood. His mother was a witch, but his two sisters had no magical talent. Therefore, when he showed wizarding potential, his mother favored him without reservation among all siblings. He once thought he was a genius, unique, until he entered Ravenclaw at Hogwarts...

Lohart thought he would become the object of discussion and attention because he believed he was a powerful genius, but reality disappointed him.

 Hogwarts had more talented, more gifted, and harder-working children than him. He did have talent and was smarter than most students, but he just wanted to be the best.

Everyone had to learn to accept their mediocrity. Lohart obviously hadn't learned.

In the first Transfiguration class, Lohart's matchstick didn't change at all. Still, he cleverly found a needle to replace it—if Professor McGonagall hadn't seen it, he would have received a lot of praise and admiration.

His memories of seeking attention flooded back. Standing on the table, proudly announcing that he would travel around the world after graduation, holding up the Quidditch World Cup, becoming the youngest Minister of Magic...

What a wonderful student life! Lohart couldn't help but think.

"I don't need these memories of yours." A cold voice sounded in his ear. The cold voice spoke again, "Replace them!"

Lohart's psychological defense line was instantly crushed, and his memories surged uncontrollably. Many memories that had been sleeping at the bottom of his mind were salvaged, then thrown away like garbage, repeating this cycle...

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(End of this chapter)

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