Chapter 88: All is Forgotten

Chapter 88: All is Forgotten

Rita Skeeter hurriedly stopped three curious young wizards in their tracks. "Do you know where Professor Lockhart's office is? I need to speak with him," she said, flashing them a forced smile, her thoughts already far away.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione looked at her somewhat puzzled. Why was this woman back again?

Hermione didn't respond, but she glared at Rita Skeeter with frustration. However, when Ron noticed her gaze shift to Harry, he quickly spoke up, "Next to Classroom 2 in the basement."

Satisfied, Rita Skeeter departed. As she walked along the corridor, a strange feeling lingered in her mind. The way that girl had looked at her wasn't exactly friendly.

But who cared! She wasn't anyone of importance. Rita could easily weave her into an article if she pleased.

"Ron!" Hermione's voice was exasperated.

"Listen to me, don't let Harry get involved with that woman. She'll dig up Harry's entire family history," Ron explained.

The young witch's tension eased a bit. It was then that Harry realized he seemed to have taken a whirlwind journey and come out unscathed.

...

In a dim underground corridor, Rita Skeeter's figure disappeared for a few seconds. Then, a beetle flew out from the darkness, fluttering its wings as it skillfully made its way to the side of Classroom 2 in the basement.

The beetle hovered in midair for a few seconds before staring intently at the doorplate that read "Defensive Dark Arts—Gilderoy Lockhart." Silently, it slipped through the crack in the door.

Lockhart paced around his office in circles, his expression frustrated. Even the row of portraits on the wall wore worried frowns.

The beetle landed on the edge of one of the portraits, looking down upon him.

"Damn it, #%&..."

Lockhart had lost his usual suave demeanor. He repeatedly ran his hands through his hair, his once-golden curls becoming increasingly unruly.

"Maybe I can do something about this, just like I used to. I'm quite adept at it, remarkably so..."This chapter was first shared on the Ñøv€lß1n platform.

Lockhart muttered to his full-length portrait. The portrait Lockhart gave him a thumbs-up, showing a mouthful of white teeth.

"But what about the charge of attacking the Minister of Magic? Merlin's beard, this is absurd! It was an accident, just an accident! I won't let someone falsely accuse me, even if he is the Minister!"

"I'm not someone to be trifled with either. I have a massive readership; they'll support me."

Lockhart pondered for a while, feeling a bit reassured that he wouldn't end up in Azkaban. That lifted his spirits somewhat.

"But if my readers find out I've been deceiving them..." He shivered involuntarily.

Everything seemed to be back to square one. How was he going to deal with the trouble caused by Rita Skeeter?

Lockhart's irritability resurfaced. He regretted seeking higher book sales and agreeing to be the professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts for Dumbledore.

With his wand in hand, victory was already in his grasp.

But when he turned around, Rita Skeeter was already charging at him, teeth bared.

"Thud!"

Skeeter's plump body collided with Lockhart's, prompting him to emit a pained cry. They wrestled together, and the figures in Lockhart's portrait on the wall screamed in unison.

"Get off me!" Lockhart struggled desperately.

"Huff, huff!"

Rita Skeeter gained the upper hand due to her size. With one hand restraining Lockhart, the other pulled a wand from her pocket. She pointed the tip of the wand fiercely at his forehead, reciting incantations like a madwoman.

"All is forgotten!"

After a moment, Lockhart's expression grew vacant.

When he snapped out of it, Lockhart found his thoughts jumbled. "Hmm, what was I thinking about? Right, that woman Rita Skeeter. I need to write her a letter, I have to agree to her demands, or my career and reputation will be ruined."

"Merlin's beard, one trouble after another. I never should've come to Hogwarts!"

Lockhart stood up, and his office was once again neat and orderly, though the figures in the portraits on the wall looked rather listless, lacking vitality.

...

On the other side, Felix Harp, along with Dumbledore and the others, pursued them to the infirmary. Dumbledore summoned Fawkes once more, the little phoenix glancing reproachfully at its master before begrudgingly using its tears to heal Fawkes.

"At least there are no lasting effects. If news of the Minister being attacked at Hogwarts were to spread..." Madame Pomfrey poured a vial of black potion and administered it to Fawkes, whose cheeks took on a healthy hue.

"Based on what I know of the Minister, he won't divulge it," Kingsley said, "But that woman, Rita Skeeter, she's a problem!"

"Don't worry, I'll have a talk with her," Felix said calmly, studying Fawkes' complexion, and discreetly plucking a strand of its feathers.

Not that he intended to do anything with it; it was just that the opportunity was too rare.

Pluck it or not, who knew if it might come in handy later...

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