“What happened here, children?” Lockhart hesitated for a moment before stepping forward and smiling warmly as he addressed the young wizards.
He waited for someone to explain.
Draco Malfoy was also present, looking rather pleased with himself.
But the moment he saw Lockhart approaching, his expression changed.
Pressing his lips together, he stood there silently.
Harry and Draco had recently been visiting Professor Lockhart’s office from time to time to practice methods of countering the Disarming Charm and its Counter-Charms.
The proud young Master Draco had gradually begun to feel some approval and respect for this professor.
Now that Lockhart had caught him doing something wrong, however, he avoided eye contact and didn’t dare say anything.
“Professor, Draco Malfoy called Hermione a Mudblood!” George Weasley shouted angrily, pushing aside classmates who were trying to stop him from starting a fight.
“That’s right!
It was absolutely vicious!” Fred Weasley looked as though he wanted to tear Draco apart on the spot.
Racial discrimination was considered extremely politically incorrect, even in the Wizarding World, a society fundamentally obsessed with bloodlines.
Lockhart looked at Draco and shook his head.
“That was deeply inappropriate.
Because of this, Slytherin will lose twenty points.
I will inform your Head of House, Professor Snape, and he will decide your punishment…” As he was speaking, Ron suddenly vomited again, coughing up another slimy slug and causing many students to cry out in alarm.
Lockhart had no choice but to turn towards Ron Weasley.
“A Slug-Vomiting Charm?
Who attacked him?” “Himself!” Draco immediately seized the opportunity to shout.
“He tried to curse me, but it backfired and hit him instead!” Lockhart raised his eyebrows in surprise.
Not because of Ron’s rebounding spell, of course; he had already recalled the original story and knew about that incident.
At the start of the school year, Ron and Harry flew his father’s prized flying car to Hogwarts, crashing into the Whomping Willow and breaking Ron’s wand in the process.
Later in the story, Lockhart grabbed Ron’s wand to cast Obliviate, but it backfired and affected him instead.
He knew all that.
What surprised him was something else.
Before arriving at Hogwarts, Ron supposedly knew almost no magic.
But how could he have successfully cast a jinx that the school hadn’t even taught by the start of second year?
This was even more shocking than Draco Malfoy knowing ‘Serpensortia.’ The Slug-Vomiting Charm was no simple jinx.
Large slugs clogging the throat can prevent spells from being cast properly and, in serious cases, can even cause suffocation and death.
It was an extremely practical combat spell.
Ron was nowhere near as weak or foolish as people remembered.
It seems he had been working hard behind the scenes to improve himself.
“Professor Lockhart, will he be okay?” Both Harry Potter and Hermione Granger looked extremely nervous.
“It’s not a major problem.
Usually, wizards just have to wait until they’ve finished vomiting all the slugs.
On the bright side, it cleans parasites and toxins from the stomach too,” Lockhart said, observing Ron with the confidence of someone highly experienced.
“At his level, it should stop around noon.
It won’t even affect lunch.” “Still, nothing is too difficult for me.
He’s lucky.” Lockhart looked around at the other students and clapped his hands, seizing the opportunity to turn the situation into a lesson.
“I believe the older students have all learned the Counter-Charm to the Slug-Vomiting Charm.
However, I doubt many of you can actually cast it successfully since it isn’t part of the required material for the O.W.L.
or N.E.W.T.
exams.” In truth, many adult wizards were unable to use it either.
Those who deliberately trained in both the curse and its counter-charm were usually dark wizards because the curse was simply too useful in combat.
Just imagine this: A powerful wizard casts an enhanced Slug-Vomiting Charm.
The slugs grow so large that the victim cannot cough them up, leaving them lodged in the throat and slowly strangling the victim to death.
This alone shows how terrifying the spell truly is.
“So how do you deal with it?” “The answer is salt, or even dirt from the ground.
It exploits the slugs’ natural weaknesses to interrupt the spell’s effect.” Lockhart bent down and scooped up a handful of soil.
“Of course, this doesn’t mean the magic inside your body has completely vanished.
It’s merely interrupted and will stop worsening temporarily.
This is just an emergency measure to buy you enough time to cast the proper counter-charm.
You still need to beware of opponents using spells like the Amplifying Charm to reactivate or strengthen the lingering slug curse inside you.” Having said this, he stuffed the dirt directly into Ron’s mouth.
Still dizzy from vomiting, Ron suddenly felt a mouthful of dirt being shoved in.
He immediately spat it all out frantically.
After spitting out the dirt, he froze in confusion.
He touched his stomach, then his throat, blinking in disbelief.
“I’m cured?” “Woooah~!” The surrounding students erupted into astonished cries.
Many of them began applauding, their faces full of admiration.
Everyone was cheering.
“Calm down, calm down.
This is just basic stuff.
Nothing special.” Displaying his signature flawless smile, Lockhart gestured for everyone to settle down.
However, he completely failed to suppress the students’ excitement and fanatical admiration.
Fanatic follower +1 Fanatic follower +1 Fanatic follower +1 … Truth be told, Lockhart was secretly sweating bullets.
This sudden situation was really unlucky.
Since the students had seen him pass by, he had been forced to step in and deal with it.
Thankfully, he happened to know this crude little trick.
‘Otherwise what?
Take out his wand and cast the proper Counter-Charm on Ron?’ Honestly, he thought it would have been more practical to just knock Ron unconscious with the stick he was holding in his hand.
He needed to leave immediately, before the students recovered enough to start asking for a demonstration of the Counter-Charm.
Lockhart reacted with incredible speed.
Although he appeared to be merely offering a few encouraging words to the students, he had already skillfully cut off any chance of further questions and was preparing to leave at once.
But before he could leave, his eyes swept across the corner of the crowd and landed on Ron, who was staring gloomily at his wand wrapped in tape.
Lockhart’s expression shifted slightly.
“You,” he called out.
“Come with me.” “?” Ron froze for a moment.
“Where are we going?” Of course, they were going to buy a wand.
At the same time, Lockhart also intended to use this young, experienced wizard to help him navigate the Floo Network fireplaces.
Although he had the memories of the original Lockhart and many other wizards, he himself had never used the system before.
This method of transportation was definitely not without risks.
Apparently, if you pronounced the destination incorrectly, you could end up somewhere completely different, which would be disastrous.
However, if he took Ron with him, nobody would think he was nervous about using it.
They would only assume that he was looking after a young wizard.
Heh heh.
Perfect plan!
Besides…
Student wands only cost seven Galleons at Ollivanders because of government subsidies.
For an ordinary wizarding family, that would be a significant expense, though not an unmanageable one.
But for Lockhart, a bestselling author with over a dozen hit books to his name, it wasn’t even worth mentioning.
It would be nothing more then a small favor.
Now that he was a professor, all these students would become part of his network in the future.
Investing a few Galleons in them would be ridiculously cost-effective.
Ron, however, didn’t see it that way.
When Lockhart took him to see Pomona Sprout and used the Head of House fireplace to arrive in Diagon Alley, right outside Ollivanders Wand Shop, Ron finally came out of his daze.
He stared up at Ollivanders’ signboard, looking at the wand shop he had imagined and dreamed about for as long as he could remember.
His eyes overflowed with irrepressible longing.
Yet beneath that excitement were awkwardness and embarrassment.
He tried desperately to suppress the faint feelings of inferiority and timidity rising in his heart.
Swallowing nervously, he forced his voice to remain steady.
“Professor Lockhart, I forgot to bring money.
I’ll come back another time and buy one myself.” Trying not to grip his wand too tightly, he forced himself to appear relaxed, waving it slightly.
“It actually still works pretty well.
What happened earlier was just an accident.” Unfortunately, the wand betrayed him completely.
The tape wrapped around it had failed to hold the broken sections together properly, causing half the wand to droop downwards.
Ron let out a startled cry and hurriedly forced the dangling section back into place, stuffing it tightly beneath the tape.
Lowering his head, he didn’t dare look at Lockhart.
Then a warm hand gently ruffled his hair.
He looked up in surprise to see a brilliant, warm smile.
“This is a reward, Ron.” “When your friend was insulted, you bravely stepped forward and raised your wand without hesitation.
You’re a true Gryffindor and a courageous warrior.” Poor Ron.
Growing up beneath the shadows of his outstanding father, mother, five brothers, and even his younger sister, an ordinary and mediocre boy like him had never once received real affirmation.
These were the most wonderful words Ron had ever heard in his life.
He had never before heard them in his life.
Never.
No one had ever praised him like this or acknowledged him so completely.
“R-Really?” Ron’s eyes sparkled with light.
“Of course!” Lockhart beckoned him inside.
“How can a warrior fight without a suitable wand?
I look forward to seeing what you’ll accomplish on your magical journey.” Such expectations were something Ron had never experienced before.
For a moment, his whole heart felt as if it were burning hot.
The two of them then entered the shop together.
Garrick Ollivander measured Ron’s height and arm length enthusiastically, asking all sorts of questions and creating an absolutely perfect shopping experience.
Ron felt completely lightheaded.
The scene before him overlapped with countless fantasies he had had over the years, making everything feel unreal.
He accepted wand after wand that Mr.
Ollivander handed to him.
Each time, the old wandmaker shook his head and took one back.
Ron watched eagerly as Mr.
Ollivander searched through rows upon rows of shelves, waiting for the wand that would finally be his.
His wand!
Not the old, second-hand wand that had once been used by his brother Charlie, the worn-out thing with the unicorn hair already sticking out of the end!
‘They can’t expect me to perform as well as my brothers at school with a wand that doesn’t suit me and is practically falling apart!’ Sometimes he secretly thought such things.
He was so excited that he failed to notice that Professor Lockhart was also buying a wand.
It was fourteen inches long (35.56 cm), with a shape that wasn’t entirely straight but possessed elegant curves and a small curled fork near the tip, because, as Mr.
Ollivander explained, “Flexible wands tend to favor graceful spellcasters.” The wood was applewood.
Mr.
Ollivander rambled enthusiastically.
“It is said that owners of applewood wands are generally well-liked and long-lived.
I’ve also noticed that customers who are successfully matched with applewood wands are often highly charismatic individuals.
Many possess remarkable talents for communicating with other species, including Dylan Marwood, author of Merpeople: A Complete Interpretation of Language and Traditions.” The only drawback was that applewood wands possessed a natural resistance toward Dark Magic.
Their core was made of unicorn hair.
“Unicorn hair typically produces the most stable magic and is the least likely to suffer from fluctuations or blockages.
Wands with unicorn hair cores are generally the least likely to yield to Dark Magic.” This wand’s nature was almost completely opposite to Lockhart’s previous wand.
It had exceptional talent for communicating with other species.
It had stable rather than highly flexible spellcasting.
The wood and core both instinctively rejected Dark Magic.
Mr.
Ollivander looked at Lockhart with an extremely subtle expression.
“You appear to have changed greatly from your past self.” Lockhart offered no explanation.
Instead, he merely examined the wand in his hand with great interest, sensing a sudden force within himself, a feeling he recognized as joyful excitement.
Smiling softly, he said: “This is quite wonderful, isn’t it?” “Yes,” Mr.
Ollivander replied with absolute certainty.