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Friday.
In Defense Against the Dark Arts class, Lockhart acted as if nothing had happened. His teaching style was still terrible, especially when he had several students act as trolls and werewolves to reenact his glorious history.
"This is the worst class I've ever taken," Neville lamented, and even Malfoy wasn't spared, being dragged up to play a vampire.
John still hadn't earned any points. Originally, Lockhart wanted John to play the Yeti, but after seeing John's murderous gaze, he didn't dare insist.
Hermione was also beginning to have doubts. How could someone who wrote such excellent articles know nothing at all? She was deeply conflicted.
"Neville, why are you carrying a sword?" Ron, still frustrated from having his wand fly out and hit Professor Flitwick on the head during Charms class, turned and saw the sword on Neville's back.
Harry was astonished. "Are you planning to use that sword to settle the score with Malfoy?"
"It's not that. It's John. He said he wants to make me stronger and even suggested that I become a swordmaster," Neville explained, feeling the many curious looks. He was reluctant to carry the sword, but John insisted he get used to it.
Harry, reminded of John's fight against the troll with a great sword last year, thoughtfully said, "Maybe John is protecting Neville from Malfoy. After all, Malfoy is most afraid of John."
Ron thought carrying a sword didn't necessarily make Neville John, but it wasn't impossible either.
"Let's visit Hagrid tomorrow," Harry suggested.
Hermione had no plans for that day, so she agreed.
As the four walked down the corridor, John emerged from a door.
John greeted them, "Hello, Ron, I was just looking for you."
Surprised to be the one sought out, Ron asked, "What's up, John?"
"You forgot, I promised to repair your wand."
John lifted his small bag and smiled, "I've found some materials these past few days. Let's see if I can fix it."
Ron excitedly shook John's hand, saying, "That's great, John. You have no idea, this damned wand hit Professor Flitwick on the head today."
"Uh... that does sound pretty bad."
John took Ron's wand, which was broken in two and held together with tape. The crude repair method was enough to make anyone shake their head in disbelief.
"Aspen wood with a unicorn hair core."
"This was Charlie's. After he left school, it became mine."
Ron blushed, embarrassed by his family's financial situation, which forced him to use his older brother's wand.
Seeing this, John shook his head regretfully. "If that's the case, I suggest you give up on this wand."
"What? Please, John, I don't have enough money to buy a new one."
Ron panicked at the thought of not being able to repair the wand. He didn't want to receive another Howler.
Harry, standing nearby, offered, "Ron, I can give you the money to buy a new one."
Harry, being secretly wealthy, was very generous. However, Ron felt uncomfortable about using his friend's money.
"It's not that. This wand is damaged. Maybe we can keep the core and match it with new wood. I happen to have some good materials."
As Ollivander often said, a wizard chooses a wand, and a wand chooses a wizard.
John suspected that Ron's frequent magical mishaps might be due to his wand.
He pulled out the unicorn hair core from inside and handed the aspen wood to Ron casually.
"It will take about a week. In the meantime, you can use this one."
Taking out his spare wand, John smiled. "This one also has a unicorn hair core."
Ron took it, and although it was quite a bit shorter, it was still usable.
"Well, I'll be going now. Neville, you can come with me."
John pulled Neville away, bidding farewell to the trio.
...
After enduring John's rigorous training, Neville was so exhausted that he could barely lift his arms.
John had cut a good branch from the Whomping Willow to use as wand wood, thinking its sensitivity might make the wand more exceptional.
On his way back, he ran into Lockhart.
This fraudulent teacher smiled at John.
"Mr. Wick, I think we could have a chat in my office."
Lockhart invited John, and John wondered what he was up to.
However, he wasn't worried. Surely, Lockhart wasn't like Quirrell, another of Voldemort's followers?
Nodding in agreement, John followed Lockhart to the second-floor Defense Against the Dark Arts office.
The room was filled with photos of Lockhart, making it evident that he was a narcissist who loved vanity.
After sitting down, Lockhart began, "I heard you defeated a troll in your first year? You are truly a talented wizard. Of course, that's nothing compared to winning Witch Weekly's Most Charming Smile Award five times in a row."
As he spoke, he didn't miss the opportunity to boast. John watched him with a blank expression, which made Lockhart feel awkward after a while.
"Ahem, I'd like to ask, what do you think of me?—Oops... Uh... I mean, what do you think of Defense Against the Dark Arts?"
Lockhart came to Hogwarts for fame and fortune. Although he was a best-selling author, his abilities and stories were widely disputed.
To silence his critics, he volunteered to teach at Hogwarts.
However, he forgot about the curse the Dark Lord had placed on the Defense Against the Dark Arts position.
His first class of the term was a fiasco, and today's class made him realize that his grand image in the students' minds had vanished.
He noticed that whether they were from Slytherin or Gryffindor, they all regarded John with a certain respect.
This sparked a different idea in Lockhart's mind. He said sincerely, "I'm not without my means, but you know, being a celebrity comes with many responsibilities. So, I want to hire an assistant, someone who can handle some tasks for me."
"You mean your teaching skills are lacking, so you want to dump the job?"
John glanced at Lockhart and bluntly said, "Frankly, you should have heard the stories about the Defense Against the Dark Arts position, right? It's not exactly a desirable job."
Lockhart was annoyed to have his thoughts exposed. He hadn't expected the student to look down on him during this heart-to-heart talk.
He retorted, "How could you say that? I am Gilderoy Lockhart, holder of the Order of Merlin, Third Class, and five-time winner of..."
"Alright, it's not impossible for me to help you, but I can only assist you with the second-year classes. I can't manage anything else."
John interrupted him, growing increasingly suspicious about the authenticity of Lockhart's stories.
Lockhart's face darkened. John had indeed pointed out a significant issue—Lockhart couldn't possibly hire an assistant for every grade.
Seeing John's lack of respect, Lockhart realized that John was already doubting him.
To maintain his image as a powerful wizard, Lockhart had to abandon his plan.
Since that was the case, he decided to take preemptive action.
As John turned to leave, Lockhart drew his wand and cast, "Obliviate."
This was his most proficient spell, which he had used to steal many remarkable stories from other wizards.
A smile appeared on his face. As long as he made John forget today's conversation, he could continue his terrible teaching and remain the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor.
However, the moment the spell was cast, the protective charm on John activated.
The Obliviate spell was countered by the Shield Charm.
John's face darkened. This guy dared to attack him at school.
He turned to the stunned Lockhart and coldly said, "It seems you're not a good person after all."
"Why are you unharmed?"
This was the first time Lockhart's Obliviate spell had ever failed.
John drew his wand and aimed it at Lockhart.
In the next second, white light exploded in the office, and cracks appeared on the walls.
All the photos of Lockhart in the room were destroyed, and Lockhart, leaning against the wall, was filled with panic.
"Wait, I'll leave Hogwarts right now, please spare me," Lockhart begged.
He was terrified that this young wizard actually dared to attack him.
And the spell was aimed directly at his head. If it had hit, his head would likely have exploded like a balloon.
While pleading, Lockhart's hand secretly reached for his wand.
Just as he was about to touch it, John's wand emitted a white light, creating a hole next to Lockhart's hand.
This made Lockhart freeze, and John stared at him, thinking about how to deal with him.
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