041 Plotting Against Lockhart

When Bryan witnessed a jubilant group of young wizards exiting Lockhart's classroom, he found himself engulfed in a whirlwind of confusion, existential doubts, and bewilderment. However, he finally understood one thing: why neither Headmaster Dumbledore nor Professor McGonagall could tolerate Lockhart's teaching methods.

As Bryan made his way back to his office, still reeling from being forced to endure half a book's worth of absurdity, he considered the possibility that this might be an isolated case. However, the following days shattered that hope, exposing the harsh reality of Lockhart's ridiculous teaching methods. He couldn't help but wonder, "Why would Dumbledore choose such an eccentric person?"

On Thursday morning, Bryan left the first-year classroom and headed towards the auditorium for lunch, filled with sympathy for the young wizards. Reflecting on his own time as a student at Hogwarts, he recalled how the Defense Against the Dark Arts professors changed each year, their abilities varying. However, those professors had always taught with sincerity, unlike Lockhart, who transformed the class into a theatrical performance.

Yesterday afternoon, during Harry's first encounter with Lockhart as their Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Bryan had initially hoped that Lockhart would exhibit some restraint in front of the "protagonist" of this world. However, his hopes were shattered as he was forced to participate in a two-hour play where he portrayed a grateful villager from the Himalayas, while Lockhart coerced Potter into playing the role of a snowman, all while Lockhart potrayed himself taking the center stage.

"Do something, Professor Watson!"

As the Defense Against the Dark Arts class finally concluded, a distressed Harry, thrown around by Lockhart's antics and accidentally falling off the table, clutched his leg in pain, uttering desperate words of pleading. Ron covered his mouth, desperately trying to hold back his laughter. However, he soon bared his teeth and screamed when Hermione passed by, carrying several Lockhart books, and stomped on his foot.

"I thought your performance was brilliant, Professor Watson!"

Hermione glared fiercely at Ron, then blushed and said something to Bryan before quickly running away.

A great performance? Is that what it was, Miss Granger?

Bryan looked at the little girl running away in surprise, his face filled with confusion.

"Her opinion is different from ours, Professor Watson," Dean Thomas said to Bryan rationally. "Hermione greatly admires Professor Lockhart. She has been trying to convince everyone that the absurd adventures described in Lockhart's books are true. However, she has been unable to provide evidence. But now, she has finally found a fan of Professor Lockhart—a significant figure."

Raising an eyebrow, Bryan inquired, "Who might that be?"

"It's you, Professor Watson" . Harry observed Bryan's expression discreetly and cautiously said, "Hermione told me that she overheard Lockhart calling you his loyal fan—"

Bryan rolled his eyes inwardly and carefully considered the suggestion Professor Snape had made to him recently.

During lunchtime, while Lockhart was engrossed in a tedious conversation with Professor Flitwick, Professor McGonagall turned her head and fixed a stern gaze upon Bryan, speaking in a barely audible voice, "Professor Watson, Hogwarts pays your salary not to recite and perform with him but to show your true abilities. You promised me!"

Setting aside the lemon tart in his hand, Bryan surveyed the bustling Great Hall. He noticed Draco Malfoy, looking at him with a puzzled expression from the Slytherin table, while several Ravenclaw girls pointed among each other, laughed, and shook their heads.

"Headmaster Dumbledore..."

Dumbledore's beard seemed to possess a life of its own, trembling with a mind of its own accord.

"Do you have any advice, Bryan?"

Bryan blinked, adopting a calm tone as he responded, "No, Headmaster Dumbledore. I simply have a suggestion."

Curiosity piqued, Dumbledore shook his beard and refocused on the conversation. "What might that be?"

Bryan lowered his head slightly and replied, "Would you mind if I invited Professor Lockhart for a drink and accidentally added something to his glass, causing him to spend some time in the hospital bed?"

Snape, who had been staring at Bryan intently until that moment, finally broke his gaze and a faint smile curled at the corners of his mouth. A flicker of expression appeared in his otherwise vacant eyes. "--Do you remember what I taught you in your first-year Potions class, Bryan?"

"Adding narcissus root powder to a wormwood infusion creates a potent sleeping draught. When consumed with alcohol and left untreated, it induces a state of confusion that impairs speech. The effects can last for two months."

Bryan nonchalantly nodded at Snape and replied, "You know, Professor Snape, my memory has always been quite good. And what about you, Headmaster Dumbledore?"

Dumbledore cleared his throat, raising his head and suddenly appearing alert. He began studying the patterns on the chandelier above the auditorium, his blue eyes less piercing and distant. "This year, I turned 112, and the passage of time never ceases to astonish me. Lately, I've been keenly aware of its effects. My legs and feet aren't as agile as they used to be, my vision is starting to blur, and my hearing isn't as sharp. I must admit that I didn't catch a single word of what you three were discussing with Severus and Minerva just now..."

Professor McGonagall pursed her lips tightly, shooting a mixture of helplessness and annoyance filled gaze towards Dumbledore.

However, Dumbledore didn't give McGonagall an opportunity to voice her complaints. He stood up directly, addressing the group of professors who had been conspiring to harm a renowned writer and Hogwarts' Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. Due to his declining health, he needed to return to his office and rest, immediately leaving the gathering.

"I will deliver what you need to your office before 9 p.m. tonight," Snape offered as he, too, stood up, his departing figure expressing impatience.

"Poppy!"

Under Bryan's meaningful gaze, Professor McGonagall, feeling somewhat ashamed and irritated, turned to Madam Pomfrey, who was preparing fish soup. "If you're free tonight, could you come to my office? There's something I'd like to discuss with you privately..."

"Oh, no problem, Minerva. I'll be there on time!" Madam Pomfrey, anticipating a possible raise in her salary, beamed with joy and eagerly agreed.

"Ahem, Professor Lockhart..."

After Professor McGonagall's departure, the staff table, once crowded, now appeared almost half-empty. Flitwick swiftly departed while Bryan remained engaged in conversation with Lockhart, exhibiting movements that vaguely hinted at his past glory as a dueling champion.

"Ah, Bryan, you also want to receive my Valentine's Day card in advance, just like Filius. Oh, this truly puts me in a dilemma. But..."

Interrupting Lockhart's rambling, Bryan stated firmly, "I learned from Miss Granger that your favorite birthday present was a case of Ogden's Old Firewhiskey when I taught your class in the second year. How fortunate for me to possess a bottle over 80 years old, a gift from Headmaster Dumbledore. I wonder if you would be honored to join me for a drink at the Three Broomsticks this Saturday?"

"Now, do the two of you have anything else to say?"

At the Gryffindor table, Hermione, who had been eavesdropping on the conversation, glanced at Harry and Ron, who exchanged looks, before lifting her chin with pride.

"He's one of his fans!"

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