Chapter 112 Lohart's Efforts

"Blackthorn, fifteen inches, bird-snake feather." Tom took out his first creation and handed it to Ron.

"This is the first wand I made. It may not compare to those made by professional wandmakers, but at least it's stable."

Ron took the seemingly plain wand, plunged into ecstasy. He held the wand, waved it casually, tried a few simple spells, and found that although the casting felt a bit sluggish, compared to his broken wand, it was like heaven and earth.

"Thank you, Tom. I really don't know how I would get through this semester without you." Ron put the new wand into his robe.

"Finding a wand's owner is the responsibility of a wandmaker." Tom also showed a faint smile. It was just a simple effort, and to be honest, the wand he made was indeed very ordinary.

For an apprentice's first work, being usable was already good.

After solving Ron's wand problem, Tom and Hermione returned to the Ravenclaw common room.

"Thank you for the bookmark, I really like it." At the entrance of the common room, Hermione said this to Tom. It seemed like she wanted to say something more, but in the end, she didn't say anything. Her cheeks turned red again.

She thought for a moment, as if suddenly remembering something. She took out a silk handkerchief from her pocket and gently wiped Tom's cheek.

"If you encounter difficulties, you can come to me. I should be able to help you."

She stuffed the handkerchief into Tom's hand and ran away.

Feeling the lingering fragrance on his face, Tom smiled shyly.

He looked at the handkerchief. It was white silk, embroidered with a red tulip. The handkerchief had a faint and elegant fragrance. Tom couldn't help but lean over to smell it.

...

"How was it?" When Hermione returned to the dormitory, she was surrounded by her roommates, waiting for a thorough interrogation.

"So, the little sun didn't confess to you?" Su Li looked disappointed.

"What confession! I don't understand what you're talking about!" Hermione blushed and retorted.

"It seems like this little girl still has something to hide..." Mandy Brocklehurst sensed something unusual, so she tackled Hermione, tickling her armpits. "Come on, will you say it or not?"

"What—haha, wait a minute—wait a minute..."

Soon, her roommates learned about the situation.

"Wow!"

(｀ω)(=ω｀=)(ω)(ω<)(）< p>

"This is a good start!"

"Quick, try the bookmark he gave you!" Lisa Turpin brought out a small booklet for Hermione to try.

Hermione inserted the bookmark, then closed the book.

Then came the moment of... staring at each other.

"So, how do we know if it's finished scanning?" someone asked the existential question.

The room fell into silence, and Hermione had no answer. Tom hadn't actually mentioned what the completion of scanning would look like.

But fortunately, the booklet was thin, and in less than a minute, the stem of the leaf bookmark protruded from the pages.

"It should be finished!" Hermione breathed a sigh of relief. However, for some reason, she didn't want to expose the flaws of the bookmark in front of her friends. She regretted a bit: why did she tell her friends about this bookmark—it should be her and Tom's secret!

Suddenly, she didn't want her roommates to touch the bookmark anymore. The bookmark had a special meaning to her.

Hermione wrote a word on parchment, then used the bookmark stem to scan it, and the leaf automatically started searching for the meaning. The surrounding witches looked at her in amazement.

But when they wanted to continue playing, Hermione put the bookmark away. She wanted to be a bit selfish about the bookmark.

Of course, she cleverly brought up another topic: Professor Lohart.

Talking about Lohart, everyone quickly forgot about Tom.

The girls chatted excitedly about Lohart's experiences, Lohart's new book, and the astonishing flying car journey by Lohart—most of them thought this behavior was too cool and exactly what they aspired to.

Even Hermione fantasized about traveling with Tom in a car, but she only thought about it. After all, that would be a violation of the Secrecy Act.

But it was indeed very romantic! Sitting in a car, crossing the galaxy.

The girls chatted for a while and discovered that everyone seemed to be fans of Professor Lohart. So, they exchanged smiles: "Turns out, you're a Lohart fan too!"

Everyone took out Lohart's posters from their trunks and put them up on the dormitory walls. Hermione didn't have a poster; she had the complete set of Lohart's works - the Leehan Bookstore edition, which also attracted envy from the young witches.

Where was Professor Lohart at this moment? In a small dark room.

When he woke up, he found himself lying in his trunk, feeling like his chest and head had split open. Something was blocking his mouth, and his hands and feet were tied.

He struggled to recall what happened before he fainted, and the last memory in his mind stopped at Tom giving him flowers. He couldn't remember what happened next.

Suddenly, the trunk was lifted, and light shone in, making Lohart dizzy. A figure jumped in, removed the thing from his mouth, untied the ropes on his hands and feet, then threw a bucket of water and a pack of sandwiches beside him.

"Behave. If you make a sound, don't think about being able to move freely in the future."

Lohart recognized the voice; it was Tom.

"Tom, is there some misunderstanding between us? I know my new book is overdue, but locking me in a small dark room won't help. I lack inspiration—"

Tom looked at him emotionlessly as he spoke. Then, he took out a pair of handcuffs and leg irons from his pocket, brought over a large iron ball, and firmly secured Lohart. This was all sponsored by Flich as a token of friendship. When he heard that the new Dark Arts Defense professor was interested in the "tools" in his office, he was overjoyed and ecstatic.

He earnestly explained the various uses of the instruments to Tom and proudly mentioned that these tools were as good as new under his care. If Tom showed the slightest interest, he would give Tom a set.

"Professor, believe me, as long as you are willing to have the confined students hanged, no one in your class will ever be distracted!" Flich solemnly assured Tom.

After securing Lohart with the restraints, Tom revealed a playful smile.

"Professor Lohart, please explain the secret room in your trunk."

Lohart's incessant chatter stopped.

He anxiously said, "I don't know why there's such a space in my trunk..."

Tom stared at him, his expression as if saying, "Do you take me for a fool?"

Lohart began to feel guilty.

"Professor Lohart, are those experiences of yours actually from others? Did you coax their stories out of hidden wizards and then package them as your own experiences?"

"I haven't!" Lohart shouted.

"As for those wizards you coaxed into talking, did you kill them? Like what I did to you—first imprisoning them here, then extracting their stories, and finally killing them..."

"I really haven't done that!" Lohart heard Tom's reasoning becoming more absurd and couldn't help but panic. Tom had just said he would do the same to him—however, he really hadn't killed those wizards. At most, he coaxed their stories and then erased their memories.

Lohart didn't start writing immediately after graduating; he initially started his career. He invented a shampoo with bird-snake egg yolk as the main ingredient. Although it could "lock in shine," it was never mass-produced for the public due to the dangerous and expensive ingredients.

Later, he became a writer by chance.

When Lohart first started writing, he intended to publish the adventures of other wizards. However, one day, he discovered that his interview subjects didn't guard against him!

So, he got wicked thoughts, planning to make those stories his own.

He ambushed the wizard, transplanted his experiences, and succeeded greatly. Tasting the sweetness, he began his path of plagiarism. He tracked and found those wizards, questioned their experiences—sometimes with the help of force—then erased their memories. He became quite proficient in this process.

As his eloquence matured, he no longer needed to use spells other than the Forgetfulness Charm. Lohart's magical skills gradually diminished, and ultimately, besides the Forgetfulness Charm, he had no other proficient magic.

"Dear Tom, calm down. Listen to me. Alright, I admit not all those adventures were my personal experiences," Lohart said in genuine fear. He feared that the boy in front of him would torture him and then silence him: he knew he couldn't withstand torture. So, he confessed to his experiences like pouring beans from a bamboo tube.

"Child, think about it. How could those stories from old wizards sell well? For example, that old wizard who saved an entire village from werewolf danger, he looks terrible, and his taste in clothing is very poor. Using him as the cover won't make anyone want to read it..."

Seeing Tom's somewhat angry expression, Lohart hastily explained, "I also put in a lot of effort. Finding those wizards with stories isn't easy. It requires very careful inquiries, not missing any details, and after asking, applying a Forgetfulness Charm. Involving such large-scale memory modification requires high proficiency; one small mistake, and the person would become an idiot—"

"So, your Forgetfulness Charm had issues? You turned some people into idiots? Tom interrupted Lohart's rebuttal, but Lohart ignored him.

"Child, do you understand? I also have to do a lot of preparation. These things may sound easy, but they are very laborious, it's a physically demanding job. But if you want to become famous, you have to work hard. I envy Harry Potter; he just had to lose his parents to become world-famous..."

This speech left Tom dumbfounded, and any trace of compassion for Lohart was severed.

He looked at Lohart with an expression reserved for cattle, then opened the trunk.

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(End of this chapter)

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