Lockhart failed to find Hagrid.
He had probably already headed to Hogsmeade Station, which is located on the border between Hogwarts and Hogsmeade, to await the arrival of the students.
After leaving Hagrid’s gamekeeper hut, Lockhart ran into the Herbology Master, Professor Pomona Sprout.
Professor Sprout was by the Black Lake, moving a number of magical plants that had just finished sunbathing back to the greenhouse.
The plants resembled plump babies, their dangling roots hanging into the soil-filled flowerpots.
Lockhart hurried over to help.
“Oh, thank you so much.” Professor Sprout looked much older than Lockhart remembered, with quite a bit more white hair.
“You’re welcome.
As the student you awarded the most points to back then, I feel like I ought to perform a little better.” Lockhart smiled brightly while speaking.
Professor Sprout froze for a moment, uncertain whether such a thing had actually happened.
Still, Lockhart had indeed been quite lively back in school.
To earn House Points and draw attention to himself, he had apparently memorized entire textbooks, raising his hand enthusiastically in class to answer questions and earning bonus points from many professors.
Memorising textbooks was certainly a good thing, and professors were naturally willing to reward House Points for it.
Unfortunately, once Lockhart had finished showing off, he never maintained the effort.
Professor Sprout looked at him with a somewhat emotional expression, appearing very kind and gentle.
“Yes, you were a very outstanding child back then.
But now you’ve grown up and returned to Hogwarts as a professor.
I hope you’ll continue to be excellent.” Oh~ Lockhart suddenly felt a little moved.
‘Really?’ ‘Despite constantly greeting everyone with a smile, he hadn’t received a hint of genuine kindness from anyone since arriving at the school.’ “Professor Sprout…” Lockhart’s smile softened; it was no longer as dazzling as before as he quietly said, “Thank you.” After that, he did not mention his plan to help professors publish bestselling books at all.
Instead, he silently helped Professor Sprout organize the greenhouse and prepare materials for the upcoming semester.
The strangest things there were naturally the plump, baby-like plants that had just been sunbathing.
Once they were brought back into the greenhouse, the little ‘babies’ seemed to lose moisture rapidly, shrinking and becoming old and grotesque.
These plants were called Mandrakes and were important ingredients in many antidotes, as well as being powerful restorative agents in their own right.
In the wizarding world, these plants were extremely expensive and exceedingly rare.
The ones commonly found on the market were usually wild specimens.
Only someone as skilled as Professor Sprout could nurture such valuable and dangerous plants on a large scale.
The cries of mature mandrakes sounded like the wailing of infants, and hearing them would cause death.
Even immature mandrakes were highly dangerous, capable of causing several hours of unconsciousness.
And that was only for a single plant.
There were over a hundred Mandrake seedlings placed here.
If they all screamed together, the sound would be absolutely terrifying.
“We need to hurry and replant them before they fully wake up.
To be safe, we should put on earmuffs first.
Hm?
Where are the earmuffs?” Professor Sprout stood up and looked around the somewhat cluttered greenhouse.
After a moment’s thought, she suddenly slapped her forehead.
“Oh dear, my memory is terrible!
I need to go and get them.
Wait here for a moment.” After taking a few steps, she stopped again.
“If you have other things to do, though, you can leave first.
I can handle this by myself.” Lockhart simply smiled and shook his head.
“No, it’s alright.
I’ll wait for you.” “That’s very thoughtful of you, Lockhart.
You’re a good child.” Professor Sprout sighed emotionally before hurrying away.
After she left, Lockhart obediently refrained from touching anything inside the greenhouse.
Truthfully speaking, he didn’t dare touch anything.
Professor Sprout’s greenhouse was certainly no safer than the Forbidden Forest at Hogwarts.
It contained every kind of plant whose trade in living specimens or seeds was banned by the Ministry of Magic, and many of them were extremely dangerous.
In the corner, for example, stood a massive vine plant covered in vicious-looking tendrils.
It was called a Venomous Tentacula.
Its poisonous vines seized nearby living creatures, injecting them with lethal toxins before dragging the corpses towards the main body, where they were shredded apart by sharp teeth.
Lockhart had absolutely no desire to personally test how terrifying the thing really was.
This was despite his memories clearly informing him that a single leaf from the plant could sell for as much as ten Galleons.
In his previous life, while reading web novels, he had often seen people jokingly refer to Hagrid as the richest man at Hogwarts.
But, in truth, every professor here had the ability to earn sums of money that ordinary wizards could never accumulate in a lifetime.
And so he quietly crouched there before more than a hundred Mandrake seedlings, suddenly feeling as though the frantic pace of his life after transmigration had unexpectedly slowed down.
Watching the dust drifting through the afternoon sunlight streaming from the unrepaired hole in the greenhouse ceiling, his thoughts seemed to drift along with it.
In truth, he was very grateful for this transmigration.
Not because of how much fame and wealth the original Lockhart had accumulated, but because he could finally feel the vividness of being alive once again.
He no longer wanted to dwell on his previous life.
But after spending the last five years of that life lying motionless in a hospital bed every single day, anyone who had experienced that kind of existence would treasure living vitality as intensely as he did now.
Only…
It was too vivid.
Lockhart frowned slightly, feeling the memories in his mind surge and boil constantly.
As the memories were sorted and pieced together, it was as though the emotions and feelings contained within them were also being stitched together — almost as if entire personalities were about to be reconstructed.
And not just one.
There were more than a dozen of them.
How was he supposed to solve this?
Lockhart thought of Dumbledore’s Pensieve.
According to the information he has, it could extract memories from the mind and store them separately.
Maybe that would work.
Of course, borrowing Dumbledore’s Pensieve was out of the question.
He would have to rely on the network of connections that the original Lockhart had built up to see if he could acquire one elsewhere.
The magical item itself wasn’t particularly rare.
The only issue was that he currently depended heavily on these memories.
Removing them would also increase the risk of exposing the original owner’s secrets.
‘I need to do it slowly.’ ‘Don’t panic.’ That was what he kept telling himself.
Those memories could never truly create souls.
At most, they were merely overly vivid memories.
At worst, they could interfere with his ability to use magic.
Nothing more than that.
Professor Sprout had been gone slightly too long.
Lockhart could see the beam of sunlight shining through the damaged roof of the greenhouse, slowly shifting.
Then…
It landed on the roots of several Mandrake seedlings.
The sunlight was like a switch, instantly awakening the shriveled, baby-like roots.
The mandrakes flailed their root-like arms and legs and suddenly began screaming loudly.
“AAAAAAAHHHHHHH…” Hiss~ Lockhart barely had time to suck in a cold breath before his head began to ring violently.
Then he saw that the screams of those few mandrakes had awakened all the others.
More than a hundred Mandrakes released piercing cries simultaneously, sounding like babies wailing.
“AAAAAAAHHHHHHH—!!!” Lockhart clutched his head painfully and collapsed to his knees.
It felt as though something horrific was clawing and tearing through his mind, and now that tearing pain had been multiplied by over a hundred.
He felt as though his soul was being ripped apart, too.
Fortunately, he did not lose consciousness.
Unfortunately, the chaotic memories in his head were being stirred into complete disorder by the screams and countless voices from his memories, all crashing together and echoing wildly through his mind.
I need to think of something!
Quickly, think of something!
Lockhart quickly came up with a solution.
Yes…
there was simply too much knowledge in his memories.
So much, in fact, that he had even stored away methods for handling Mandrakes.
Especially these baby-like seedlings.
Everyone knew that when a baby cried endlessly, there were usually only two possibilities.
Either it had soiled itself…
Or it was hungry.
These ‘babies’ obviously hadn’t soiled themselves.
Which meant they were hungry.
Thus, the wisdom of a powerful witch accustomed to living deep in the jungle was: Feed the baby Mandrakes something nutritious.
The most rustic and down-to-earth method was…
Pee directly into the screaming mandrake seedlings’ mouths.
The professional term for this is ‘fertilizing’.
See?
So simple!
Yet Lockhart could guarantee that the vast majority of wizards would never discover this secret.
Struggling to his feet, he endured the agony and reached tremblingly for his belt.
… “Merlin’s beard!” Professor Sprout, who had been delayed by Snape complaining about how irritating Lockhart was, suddenly changed her expression and turned towards the distant greenhouse, where the faint screams of mandrakes could be heard.
“This is all my fault.
I shouldn’t have stayed talking to you for so long…” She hurriedly drew her wand and rushed towards the stairs.
“That child Lockhart is still inside the greenhouse!” Professor Snape frowned slightly.
After hesitating for a moment, he still pulled out his wand and followed after her.
His speed was far faster than the aging Professor Sprout’s… Because he could use the Flying Charm.
The Dark Lord had taught him the spell.
Only the two of them knew it in the entire wizarding world.
He leapt from the castle corridor, flew down to the ground, and charged rapidly towards the greenhouse.
Yet something astonishing happened.
The countless wailing screams began to disappear one after another at an incredible speed.
Before they even reached the greenhouse, all the sounds had vanished completely.
‘Had Lockhart somehow killed all of Professor Sprout’s precious mandrakes?’ Professor Snape maliciously entertained the thought.
He stopped and waited for Professor Sprout to catch up, and then the two of them entered together, their expressions full of suspicion.
Professor Sprout cared deeply about the Mandrakes, but she cared even more about Lockhart’s safety.
Unlike Snape, she wasn’t thinking about anything else.
She hurried into the greenhouse, wand raised, scanning the surroundings rapidly to locate Lockhart and begin treatment immediately.
However, she only discovered Lockhart calmly spraying the Mandrake seedlings with the Dragon Dung Nutrient Solution she had prepared.
“You…” “Are you all right?” Lockhart turned around to face them, grinning and revealing his standard, flawless, charming smile.
“Of course.
Something like this couldn’t possibly trouble me.” (End Of This Chapter)