Chapter 186 The Old Smith House
night,
Lockhart was lying on the bed remorseful. He had been walking in the magic world for more than ten years, relying on his amnesia to attack countless wizards and obtain their memories...almost never missed.
But he has only been at Hogwarts for half a year, and it is almost a fleeting disadvantage. He has had enough of the losses that he has not suffered in his previous life.
But he didn't dare to leave, he left suddenly after less than a year, he had to pay too much according to the contract, and he had to publish in the newspaper to clarify the reason for leaving...
This was a fatal blow to his future career.
Lockhart still wants to run for the election of the Minister of Magic in the future, so he can't leave any stains.
But let's not go, so he is often injured every day, and Lockhart can't stand it.
You said that you are free and have nothing to do, so you hold some kind of duel club, are you cheap?
Lockhart raised his arm to slap himself, but when the bandaged hand came up, the pain was unbearable, as if swallowed by hundreds of ants.
Lockhart groaned again in pain.
At this moment, the door of the ward was opened, Madam Pomfrey came over with the potion, she said with a straight face:
"Professor Lockhart, it's time to drink the medicine!"
Lockhart took the potion with his uninjured left hand. Looking at the muddy potion, he couldn't help frowning and said:
"Madam Pomfrey, can this stuff be drunk?"
"It's piercing the keel... specifically to eliminate the bone fragments in your body." Madam Pomfrey explained softly:
"Go to sleep after drinking, and you should be fine soon."
"But it's too..." Lockhart looked embarrassed.
"Good medicine is bitter," Madam Pomfrey persuaded.
"Madame Pomfrey, tell me the truth, did Snape make this?!" Lockhart stared at Madam Pomfrey.
He had already discovered that Snape had serious malice towards him, and if it was really the potion that Snape brewed, he would definitely not drink it.
"This..." Madam Pomfrey hesitated and said, "Professor Snape really didn't make it, I will never lie to you!"
"All right."
Lockhart was relieved now, he took the potion, sniffed it, and almost threw up.
He hurriedly took out a large piece of candy and stuffed it into his mouth. Then he pinched his nose and swallowed the potion in one gulp.
Lockhart suddenly foamed at the mouth, his whole body convulsed on the bed, he whimpered:
"This medicine...is poisonous..."
"Professor Lockhart, Professor Lockhart... hurry up!"
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Lockhart's condition suddenly deteriorated, and he was urgently transferred to St. Mungo's Hospital for Magic and Wizardry... The news quickly spread throughout Hogwarts.
According to Madam Pomfrey, Lockhart's life is not in danger, but he may not return until after Christmas.
After Neville and Hannah heard the news, they were anxious for several days, fearing that a group of Aurors would suddenly appear and take them to Azkaban.
Hannah even made preparations for the end of the world. The little girl went to the kitchen when she had nothing to do, and asked the house elf to cook some food that could last for a long time...
She and Neville ate on the way to escape!
Fortunately, the final characterization given by the school was work-related injury, not potion poisoning, which made Neville and Hannah breathe a sigh of relief.
Lockhart worked so hard for the Defense Against the Dark Arts class, it really made people cry, but the reason for the tears was Professor Snape...
When the Hogwarts teaching team was short of manpower, he consciously took on two roles, acting as the acting teacher of Defense Against the Dark Arts.
If it weren't for Professor Binns who didn't pay any salary, this year's Model Teacher Award would definitely go to Snape!
Snape resumed his role as the acting teacher of Defense Against the Dark Arts. On the first day, he got the troll. He knocked down the opponent with only one spell, and then asked the little wizard to practice.
Although people who don't like Snape still don't like him, they have to admit...Snape's teaching level is indeed very high.
It can only be said that there is no harm without comparison!
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As we enter December, when the Christmas holiday is approaching, the sky is only snowflakes.
Although it was the first snow, it fell like a goose feather, and Hogwarts soon accumulated a thick layer of snow.
After Filch was injured, Hagrid was given the task of clearing the snow every day. He carried a big pannier on his back every day, like a poop shoveler, shoveling snow into the pan and throwing it into the open space outside the castle.
Soon, a small snow mountain appeared in the school, and under Dumbledore's magic, it turned into a big snow sculpture.
While it was fun, the weather was so cold that the students were crammed into the lounge every day except for class.
Professor Flitwick taught a magic called the warming spell, as long as you hit the head, your body will become warm.
But the disadvantage of this magic is that it is easy to get thirsty.
So every student is holding a vacuum flask, like a retired old man.
Professor McGonagall also taught everyone how to transform snowballs into flames, but those flames were cold and could not ignite things.
As a result, students can often be seen in the lounge fighting "fire" battles, throwing balls of fireballs at each other.
In the herbal medicine class, each little wizard had to endure the cold and put on clothes, socks and scarves for the mandrake.
Mandrakes are also afraid of the cold and can easily freeze to death.
Rove also secretly kept a few small skirts, preparing to give them as Christmas gifts this year.
Rove's veritaserum was not finished brewing, but fortunately there was no attack recently, so he focused all his attention on intelligence gathering in Smith's old house.
Sitting in the library, Rove was flipping through a book when hurried footsteps suddenly sounded beside him.
Rove looked up and found that Hermione and Shirley had come over and put a handful of old newspapers in front of him.
"Rofe." Hermione blushed, and she said excitedly, "You want information about the Smith family!"
Rove picked up the Daily Prophet and stared at the faded photos of the event.
It was a newspaper from fifty years ago, and it showed a fat old witch in a dainty ginger wig.
The caption below the photo reads:
A descendant of Hufflepuff... Hepzibah Smith, the famous collector, was found dead in Smith's old house today.
The Ministry of Magic has ruled that Hepzibah Smith's house-elf, Hokie, is suspected of a major crime by placing poison in her evening cocoa tea...
We have to reiterate the question of house elf safety again...
Rove knew it was actually Tom Riddle who had blamed the house-elves for the Hufflepuff Cup and the Slytherin charm.
Shirley quickly handed over another newspaper, and the teenager glanced at the headline:
Hepziba Smith's grandniece sold the old house because of ghosts in the old Smith house.
It is reported that the owner of Bokin Burke store bought all the collections in the old house...
Rove frowned.
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