Tom looked at the diary, revealing a benevolent smile. "What a fantastic search engine. Finding a tutor like this, who never tires out, would be like finding a needle in a haystack! You know, sometimes private tutoring can cost hundreds per hour, and you might not even find a reliable one."
As for whether Reedell had inserted any personal items, Tom felt it was unlikely. Given his speaking speed and the amount of content he covered, lying would be challenging. Moreover, Tom planned to review it later. If there was anything amiss, he would catch it.
About three hours later, Reedell finally finished his lecture on runic magic. Teaching was truly a mentally exhausting task, and by the end, Reedell's ink had nearly run out—there was almost nothing left!
"That's my understanding of runes."
"Thank you, senior! Senior, you've worked hard!"
"It's nothing. Since you called me senior, I'll naturally look out for you…"
"Senior must be tired, right? I won't bother you anymore; you should rest."
"Wait—"
Tom closed the diary.
Reedell's diary had the power to control others by amplifying dark emotions and absorb strength through conversation. Tom wasn't worried about the former. As for the latter, as long as Tom kept Reedell talking, the accumulated power consumption would weaken him, putting him in an overall weakened state.
There wasn't much to fear now.
After storing the diary, Tom transformed into a unicorn, washing away the darkness in his heart. Then, he stretched lazily, sat at the table, and organized "Tom's Runic Studies."
After reading for a while, Tom felt greatly inspired. He casually found a wooden block and began practicing the carving of Reedell's "original" runes.
This night, Tom didn't sleep.
The next day, when Hermione saw Tom, she was surprised. Tom had dark circles under his eyes but came to work at the bookstore.
"Did you stay up late?" Hermione asked with concern.
"Yes, learned some new knowledge, so I slept late," Tom said casually. He then talked to Hermione about runes, and she listened with fascination.
"Here, take this." Tom handed Hermione the small toy he had made earlier. "A little application of runes."
Hermione's eyes sparkled as she played with the coin. She casually asked, "The girl who came with you yesterday, the one Professor McGonagall asked you to visit, right?"
"Yes, her name is Peggy. I have a hunch; she should also be in Ravenclaw."
"Oh," Hermione said, playing with the coin without saying anything, just acknowledging.
Nevertheless, Tom leaned in, "Look, like this, it lights up and even floats."
"Quite nice."
"In fact, this involves the application of runes. Let me slowly explain to you…" Tom took a piece of parchment and started explaining, following Reedell's approach from the previous day. After filling an entire sheet with drawings and explanations, Tom stopped.
"I didn't really want to make a trip here, but McGonagall gave too much," Tom took out two notebooks. "Look, Professor McGonagall's notes!"
However, today was not for taking notes.
Because Mr. Lawrence came over and handed Tom a new task: setting up the venue for Lockhart's new book signing event.
The great Gilderoy Lockhart would arrive at the Lyrical Marks Bookstore on Wednesday and hold a signing event from 12:30 to 14:30. This time, the book being sold was his autobiography, "Me, Mastering Magic."
Upon hearing this, Hermione became excited, "We can meet Mr. Lockhart in person? Almost all the books on the list are written by him!"
Tom: Annoying!
But even though Tom felt annoyed, he had to go and complete the venue setup. However, the work was not extensive. The main tasks were to move a few bookshelves, clear an open space, set up a table and desk, and finally, hang banners.
Tom thought about the routines of Muggle celebrities' fan meetings and then fetched a bunch of fences. First, he separated Lockhart's table with a fence, hoping everyone could watch him civilized. Then, he used fences to create a winding path in the aisle.
This design was for crowd control, ensuring that the number of people in contact with the idol at the same time was within a reasonable range.
Wednesday arrived.
Lockhart truly deserved to be the top figure in the magical world. Although this person might not even know which wizarding academic journals existed, it didn't stop a large group of witches, mostly middle-aged women like Mrs. Weasley, and pure young girls like Hermione, from adoring him.
The wizarding world didn't have a "knowledge network," or else Tom might have torn him apart with a single question today.
Today, Diagon Alley welcomed a large wave of Lockhart's fans—most of them were witches of Mrs. Weasley's age. They rushed towards the Lyrical Marks Bookstore. According to their experience, every time Lockhart had a signing event, it would be packed to the brim, and they wouldn't be able to buy a book if they didn't occupy a favorable position early.
However, this time was somewhat different. While there were still plenty of fans buying signed books, they were now lined up in an orderly fashion, thanks to the winding fences. Even a small passage was left at the entrance of the bookstore, allowing students who just wanted to buy books to pass through.
This organized queue improved the efficiency of the signing event.
Lockhart himself had long been sitting in the bookstore, waiting.
The walls around the bookstore were covered with large photos of him. In each photo, Lockhart winked at the world, revealing his dazzling white teeth. When Tom hung those pictures, these smiling Lockharts left an indelible impression on him: a form of spiritual pollution. Just imagine, dozens of identical faces, all smiling at you…
Hermione was eager to help, but Tom firmly refused her with righteous words.
Surrounded by his own photos, Lockhart showed no signs of embarrassment. He wore a forget-me-not blue robe today, and a pointed wizard hat was crookedly placed on his head. Every time a fan approached, he tirelessly displayed a bright smile and elegantly signed his name with intricate strokes on the new book.
It had to be said that as an idol, Lockhart was still qualified. Regardless of how many people came, his smile remained as brilliant as ever.
Lockhart wasn't alone. He brought a short photographer from the Daily Prophet. The photographer was currently jumping up and down, holding a
large black camera, snapping pictures. Every time he pressed the shutter, the camera's flash emitted a dazzling light, accompanied by a burst of purple smoke.
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(End of this chapter)