Because Professor Lockhart was lying in the school infirmary being "cared for" by Madame Pomfrey, many of the ridiculous and absurd events that occurred on Valentine's Day in the original story did not happen.
However, the school did make some effort to create a festive atmosphere. Early in the morning, as the young wizards entered the Great Hall for breakfast, their eyes widened in surprise. The hall was adorned with a circle of pale golden ribbons, gracefully swaying in the air like a halo of light. Colorful confetti floated down from the light blue ceiling, creating a magical display of vibrant colors that sparkled in the sun. A small Cupid, with delicate white wings and rosy cheeks, stood at the entrance of the castle, greeting everyone with a warm smile and offering a bright red rose to each person who entered or left. The roses had a faint scent of vanilla and honey, and a soft touch that felt like silk.
Harry and Ron, determined to act as if nothing was out of the ordinary, held out the roses they were given and presented them to Hermione. A glimmer of joy broke through Hermione's previously gloomy demeanor as she accepted the roses, her lips forming a genuine smile after a somber night.
The day unfolded with a sense of quiet enchantment. The youthful and innocent love that permeated Valentine's Day captured everyone's attention. Hermione, deliberately avoiding any discussions related to studying, indulged in the spirit of the day. Even Wood, as he arrived from the courtyard, refrained from mentioning the upcoming match or training plans when he encountered Harry.
With most students from the third year and above venturing to Hogsmeade, the flat grassy area designated for flying lessons was filled with first and second-year wizards. They zoomed around on their brooms, laughing and cheering as they practiced their skills. Some of them even tried to catch the confetti that drifted down from the sky, creating a playful scene.
Harry, Ron, and Hermione luxuriated in the gentle sunlight, spending the entire morning engrossed in a game of Wizard's Chess on the lush green grass. The chess pieces moved with animated expressions, sometimes taunting their opponents or cheering their allies. Harry won two games, Ron won one, and Hermione lost all three, but she didn't mind. She was too busy enjoying the company of her friends and the beauty of the day. After a satisfying lunch, Harry and Ron decided to pay a visit to Hagrid, while Hermione embarked on a solo journey to the infirmary, carrying with her a greeting card she had lovingly crafted. It was a simple card, made of parchment and decorated with dried flowers. On it, she had written a heartfelt message to Professor Lockhart, wishing him a speedy recovery and expressing her admiration for his achievements.
At precisely two o'clock in the afternoon, following their prearranged plan, Hermione hurriedly made her way to the third floor of the castle and gently knocked on the door of a certain professor's office.
"Please come in."
The voice behind the door resonated with weariness. Without hesitation, Hermione pushed open the door and entered the room. Inside Professor Lockhart's office, the walls were noticeably stripped of the numerous portraits and photographs that were once plastered across them. Instead, they now lay collected and piled up in a corner. Professor Watson, sitting in Lockhart's chair, faced the window, his gaze fixed on the owls gracefully soaring through the sky, delivering letters. In the middle of the office floor, a staggering pile of letters, numbering perhaps one or two thousand, lay strewn about. They were all addressed to Professor Lockhart, written in various languages and scripts. Some of them had hearts or kisses drawn on them, others had perfume or glitter sprinkled on them. They all expressed admiration, gratitude, love, or curiosity for the famous wizard.
"I never knew that Professor Lockhart had such a vast number of devoted fans!"
Bryan Watson, his face etched with a pained expression, sat behind the desk, his eyes reflecting the exhaustion brought on by the task at hand. "If I had known earlier, I would have gladly assisted Professor Snape with frog innards and snail slime, rather than agreeing to help with these replies!"
"But you're such a devoted fan and admirer of Professor Lockhart, aren't you, Professor Watson? You must appreciate the magnitude of his fame and influence!" Hermione, whose eyes still bore the traces of tears from her ordeal in the infirmary, couldn't help but frown at the sight of Professor Watson's gloomy expression.
"Let's not talk about that, Miss Granger," Bryan Watson said, waving his wand with a hint of irritation. In a flash, the thousands of letters scattered on the floor soared upward, forming a dazzling white whirlwind in mid-air. With precise movements, each letter found its place, neatly stacking back on the floor. As the last letter settled, an impressive 'pillar of mail' emerged, reaching up to the ceiling.
"I don't want to trouble you with this, Miss Granger. Let's split the work, and hopefully, we can finish this chore before dinner tomorrow."
Bryan Watson rubbed his swollen eyes, a sign of his sleepless night spent in the Restricted Section of the library, and let out a weary yawn.
And so, the most tedious task began. Bryan Watson and Hermione bent over the desk, burying themselves in the mountainous 'pillar of mail.' Helping Lockhart with his replies turned out to be the most boring job Bryan Watson had faced in years. The letters all followed the same pattern—excessive praise, autograph requests, or inquiries for updates. In essence, writing responses to Professor Lockhart's fans became a painfully dull affair. Bryan Watson barely left more than ten words in each letter. However, even after just an hour, he found it hard to bear.
On the other hand, Hermione, seated across from him, tackled the task with a completely different attitude. She regarded the opportunity to assist Professor Lockhart with his replies as a privilege. Diligently, she carefully read the content of each letter and meticulously crafted thoughtful responses.
As time slowly ticked by, two hours passed before Hermione turned her head to assess the progress made. To her dismay, she discovered that the 'pillar of mail' had only shrunk by a third. She rubbed her sore wrists and glanced at Professor Watson, who seemed to have stopped writing replies altogether. Instead, he leaned back in his chair, his gaze lost in the contemplation of the ceiling.
Hermione's pursed lips mirrored the stern demeanor of Professor McGonagall, and she called out reproachfully.
Under Hermione's watchful supervision, a dejected Bryan Watson reluctantly resumed attending to the readers' letters. This time, whenever Miss Granger lifted her head to observe him, he had no chance to slack off, for she left him no room for negligence.
Bryan Watson and Hermione dined within the office. While Professor Watson could have easily ordered the house-elves to deliver the food, he chose to personally retrieve it from the Great Hall, allowing himself a few moments of respite.
"Professor Watson–"
During the meal, Hermione no longer cast her gaze upon the letters. She savored her steak at a leisurely pace, stealing glances in the dimly lit surroundings, her eyes drawn to the mysterious Professor Watson with his deep purplish eyes. For some inexplicable reason, her heartbeat quickened.
"About that sentence you mentioned to me last week in the library–"
"Hmm?"
Bryan Watson kept his head lowered, engrossed in his meal, his response coming out in a nasal tone. Only after swallowing did he raise his eyes to meet Hermione's, her flushed cheeks capturing his attention.
"Are you feeling alright, Miss Granger?"
Hermione hesitated, unsure of how to express the faint sense of loneliness that stirred within her heart. After a moment, under Bryan Watson's gentle gaze, she nodded hesitantly
"The strong are always destined for solitude, Miss Granger, but life itself is inherently lonesome. Aside from ideals and beliefs, everything and everyone we encounter on our journey toward oblivion can only accompany us temporarily. Once you grasp this understanding, there is no need for perplexity."
Bryan Watson's casual tone failed to provide clarity to the young witch seated before him. Instead, his words plunged her into a deeper state of turmoil.
After dinner, Bryan Watson surrendered completely to a state of lethargy. No matter how fiercely Miss Granger glared at him, he slouched lazily in his chair, allowing his gaze to wander aimlessly.
Professor Lockhart's desk displayed his personal books, published by various publishers, adorning its surface. In the upper-left corner of the desk, a stack of memoirs rested atop ancient wizard research manuscripts, catching Bryan Watson's eye during his previous visit. These manuscripts were undoubtedly precious artifacts. If he were in Lockhart's position, he would have cherished and guarded them, rather than carelessly tossing them aside.
Though tempted to delve into their contents and study them further, Bryan Watson forcibly suppressed the impulse out of moral decency.
On the right side of the desk, a separate stack of thick manuscripts beckoned. Bryan Watson had glimpsed them earlier upon entering the office. It appeared to be Lockhart's upcoming unpublished book, titled "A Year of Coexistence with Samoset Giants."
"Tsk tsk, such an acquired taste!"
Driven by boredom, Bryan Watson reached out and picked up the manuscript. Compared to the ancient wizard research manuscripts, this particular work seemed less taboo.
The candlelight flickered, casting dancing shadows across the room, while a faintly cool evening breeze gently tapped against the window. The office embraced an atmosphere of tranquil stillness, accompanied only by the sound of a quill scratching rapidly against parchment and the occasional rustle of turning pages.
After a while, Hermione, engrossed in her diligent work, furrowed her brow, sensing an unexplained chill permeating the air. Tentatively, she raised her head, scanning the room in search of the source. Her eyes finally settled on Bryan Watson, his lips curled into a cold smirk as he intently perused the manuscript.
"Professor–"
Hesitation tinged Hermione's voice as she cautiously inquired, "What are you reading?"
"It is Professor Lockhart's new book manuscript," Bryan Watson replied, his tone filled with intrigue. "It documents the 'discovery' process of this story, and I must say, it is quite fascinating–"
But isn't Professor Lockhart's book meant to be a record of his own experiences? Why did Professor Watson use the word 'discovery'?
Furthermore, it was not proper to peek at Professor Lockhart's private manuscript without permission. Professor!
Before Hermione could voice her concerns, Bryan Watson abruptly slammed the manuscript back onto the table, his calm demeanor now laced with authority.
"That's enough for today, Miss Granger. You should go rest."
Looking at the closed door and Hermione's perplexed expression, Bryan Watson's eyes flashed with sympathy. When the day comes and Professor Lockhart's reputation crumbles, Miss Granger will likely be overwhelmed with shame for once idolizing such a scoundrel.
He stood up and waved his wand forcefully, causing the drawer beneath the desk to close with a snap. Simultaneously, the suitcases placed against the wall opened one after another, and hidden manuscripts flew from all directions, levitating before Bryan Watson. They stood suspended in mid-air, slowly flipping through their pages, revealing the unforgivable secrets they held.
"Hmph–"
After briefly skimming through all the manuscripts, Bryan let out a cold snort. He looked at the picture frame placed on the tea table, where the wizard inside no longer wore a radiant smile but instead shrunk into a corner of the frame., staring at Bryan Watson in terror, trembling uncontrollably. "A bit of courage, Professor Lockhart. I'm truly impressed." Bryan stood alone in the office, his laughter softly murmuring.
IMPORTANT BELOW:
AUTHOR'S NOTE: In this chapter i have added some things like some readers said so this is a kind of experimental chapter, if you guys like this in more detailed way then i will start writing like this from now on, if you think that the style of previous chpaters was good then i will do in previous chapter. No need to worry the core story won't change. Its just a style change. Let Me Know in the Comments Section your thoughts.
Because Professor Lockhart was lying in the school infirmary being "cared for" by Madame Pomfrey, many of the ridiculous and absurd events that occurred on Valentine's Day in the original story did not happen.
However, the school did make some effort to create a festive atmosphere. Early in the morning, as the young wizards entered the Great Hall for breakfast, their eyes widened in surprise. The hall was adorned with a circle of pale golden ribbons, gracefully swaying in the air like a halo of light. Colorful confetti floated down from the light blue ceiling, creating a magical display of vibrant colors that sparkled in the sun. A small Cupid, with delicate white wings and rosy cheeks, stood at the entrance of the castle, greeting everyone with a warm smile and offering a bright red rose to each person who entered or left. The roses had a faint scent of vanilla and honey, and a soft touch that felt like silk.
Harry and Ron, determined to act as if nothing was out of the ordinary, held out the roses they were given and presented them to Hermione. A glimmer of joy broke through Hermione's previously gloomy demeanor as she accepted the roses, her lips forming a genuine smile after a somber night.
The day unfolded with a sense of quiet enchantment. The youthful and innocent love that permeated Valentine's Day captured everyone's attention. Hermione, deliberately avoiding any discussions related to studying, indulged in the spirit of the day. Even Wood, as he arrived from the courtyard, refrained from mentioning the upcoming match or training plans when he encountered Harry.
With most students from the third year and above venturing to Hogsmeade, the flat grassy area designated for flying lessons was filled with first and second-year wizards. They zoomed around on their brooms, laughing and cheering as they practiced their skills. Some of them even tried to catch the confetti that drifted down from the sky, creating a playful scene.
Harry, Ron, and Hermione luxuriated in the gentle sunlight, spending the entire morning engrossed in a game of Wizard's Chess on the lush green grass. The chess pieces moved with animated expressions, sometimes taunting their opponents or cheering their allies. Harry won two games, Ron won one, and Hermione lost all three, but she didn't mind. She was too busy enjoying the company of her friends and the beauty of the day. After a satisfying lunch, Harry and Ron decided to pay a visit to Hagrid, while Hermione embarked on a solo journey to the infirmary, carrying with her a greeting card she had lovingly crafted. It was a simple card, made of parchment and decorated with dried flowers. On it, she had written a heartfelt message to Professor Lockhart, wishing him a speedy recovery and expressing her admiration for his achievements.
At precisely two o'clock in the afternoon, following their prearranged plan, Hermione hurriedly made her way to the third floor of the castle and gently knocked on the door of a certain professor's office.
"Please come in."
The voice behind the door resonated with weariness. Without hesitation, Hermione pushed open the door and entered the room. Inside Professor Lockhart's office, the walls were noticeably stripped of the numerous portraits and photographs that were once plastered across them. Instead, they now lay collected and piled up in a corner. Professor Watson, sitting in Lockhart's chair, faced the window, his gaze fixed on the owls gracefully soaring through the sky, delivering letters. In the middle of the office floor, a staggering pile of letters, numbering perhaps one or two thousand, lay strewn about. They were all addressed to Professor Lockhart, written in various languages and scripts. Some of them had hearts or kisses drawn on them, others had perfume or glitter sprinkled on them. They all expressed admiration, gratitude, love, or curiosity for the famous wizard.
"I never knew that Professor Lockhart had such a vast number of devoted fans!"
Bryan Watson, his face etched with a pained expression, sat behind the desk, his eyes reflecting the exhaustion brought on by the task at hand. "If I had known earlier, I would have gladly assisted Professor Snape with frog innards and snail slime, rather than agreeing to help with these replies!"
"But you're such a devoted fan and admirer of Professor Lockhart, aren't you, Professor Watson? You must appreciate the magnitude of his fame and influence!" Hermione, whose eyes still bore the traces of tears from her ordeal in the infirmary, couldn't help but frown at the sight of Professor Watson's gloomy expression.
"Let's not talk about that, Miss Granger," Bryan Watson said, waving his wand with a hint of irritation. In a flash, the thousands of letters scattered on the floor soared upward, forming a dazzling white whirlwind in mid-air. With precise movements, each letter found its place, neatly stacking back on the floor. As the last letter settled, an impressive 'pillar of mail' emerged, reaching up to the ceiling.
"I don't want to trouble you with this, Miss Granger. Let's split the work, and hopefully, we can finish this chore before dinner tomorrow."
Bryan Watson rubbed his swollen eyes, a sign of his sleepless night spent in the Restricted Section of the library, and let out a weary yawn.
And so, the most tedious task began. Bryan Watson and Hermione bent over the desk, burying themselves in the mountainous 'pillar of mail.' Helping Lockhart with his replies turned out to be the most boring job Bryan Watson had faced in years. The letters all followed the same pattern—excessive praise, autograph requests, or inquiries for updates. In essence, writing responses to Professor Lockhart's fans became a painfully dull affair. Bryan Watson barely left more than ten words in each letter. However, even after just an hour, he found it hard to bear.
On the other hand, Hermione, seated across from him, tackled the task with a completely different attitude. She regarded the opportunity to assist Professor Lockhart with his replies as a privilege. Diligently, she carefully read the content of each letter and meticulously crafted thoughtful responses.
As time slowly ticked by, two hours passed before Hermione turned her head to assess the progress made. To her dismay, she discovered that the 'pillar of mail' had only shrunk by a third. She rubbed her sore wrists and glanced at Professor Watson, who seemed to have stopped writing replies altogether. Instead, he leaned back in his chair, his gaze lost in the contemplation of the ceiling.
Hermione's pursed lips mirrored the stern demeanor of Professor McGonagall, and she called out reproachfully.
Under Hermione's watchful supervision, a dejected Bryan Watson reluctantly resumed attending to the readers' letters. This time, whenever Miss Granger lifted her head to observe him, he had no chance to slack off, for she left him no room for negligence.
Bryan Watson and Hermione dined within the office. While Professor Watson could have easily ordered the house-elves to deliver the food, he chose to personally retrieve it from the Great Hall, allowing himself a few moments of respite.
"Professor Watson–"
During the meal, Hermione no longer cast her gaze upon the letters. She savored her steak at a leisurely pace, stealing glances in the dimly lit surroundings, her eyes drawn to the mysterious Professor Watson with his deep purplish eyes. For some inexplicable reason, her heartbeat quickened.
"About that sentence you mentioned to me last week in the library–"
"Hmm?"
Bryan Watson kept his head lowered, engrossed in his meal, his response coming out in a nasal tone. Only after swallowing did he raise his eyes to meet Hermione's, her flushed cheeks capturing his attention.
"Are you feeling alright, Miss Granger?"
Hermione hesitated, unsure of how to express the faint sense of loneliness that stirred within her heart. After a moment, under Bryan Watson's gentle gaze, she nodded hesitantly
"The strong are always destined for solitude, Miss Granger, but life itself is inherently lonesome. Aside from ideals and beliefs, everything and everyone we encounter on our journey toward oblivion can only accompany us temporarily. Once you grasp this understanding, there is no need for perplexity."
Bryan Watson's casual tone failed to provide clarity to the young witch seated before him. Instead, his words plunged her into a deeper state of turmoil.
After dinner, Bryan Watson surrendered completely to a state of lethargy. No matter how fiercely Miss Granger glared at him, he slouched lazily in his chair, allowing his gaze to wander aimlessly.
Professor Lockhart's desk displayed his personal books, published by various publishers, adorning its surface. In the upper-left corner of the desk, a stack of memoirs rested atop ancient wizard research manuscripts, catching Bryan Watson's eye during his previous visit. These manuscripts were undoubtedly precious artifacts. If he were in Lockhart's position, he would have cherished and guarded them, rather than carelessly tossing them aside.
Though tempted to delve into their contents and study them further, Bryan Watson forcibly suppressed the impulse out of moral decency.
On the right side of the desk, a separate stack of thick manuscripts beckoned. Bryan Watson had glimpsed them earlier upon entering the office. It appeared to be Lockhart's upcoming unpublished book, titled "A Year of Coexistence with Samoset Giants."
"Tsk tsk, such an acquired taste!"
Driven by boredom, Bryan Watson reached out and picked up the manuscript. Compared to the ancient wizard research manuscripts, this particular work seemed less taboo.
The candlelight flickered, casting dancing shadows across the room, while a faintly cool evening breeze gently tapped against the window. The office embraced an atmosphere of tranquil stillness, accompanied only by the sound of a quill scratching rapidly against parchment and the occasional rustle of turning pages.
After a while, Hermione, engrossed in her diligent work, furrowed her brow, sensing an unexplained chill permeating the air. Tentatively, she raised her head, scanning the room in search of the source. Her eyes finally settled on Bryan Watson, his lips curled into a cold smirk as he intently perused the manuscript.
"Professor–"
Hesitation tinged Hermione's voice as she cautiously inquired, "What are you reading?"
"It is Professor Lockhart's new book manuscript," Bryan Watson replied, his tone filled with intrigue. "It documents the 'discovery' process of this story, and I must say, it is quite fascinating–"
But isn't Professor Lockhart's book meant to be a record of his own experiences? Why did Professor Watson use the word 'discovery'?
Furthermore, it was not proper to peek at Professor Lockhart's private manuscript without permission. Professor!
Before Hermione could voice her concerns, Bryan Watson abruptly slammed the manuscript back onto the table, his calm demeanor now laced with authority.
"That's enough for today, Miss Granger. You should go rest."
Looking at the closed door and Hermione's perplexed expression, Bryan Watson's eyes flashed with sympathy. When the day comes and Professor Lockhart's reputation crumbles, Miss Granger will likely be overwhelmed with shame for once idolizing such a scoundrel.
He stood up and waved his wand forcefully, causing the drawer beneath the desk to close with a snap. Simultaneously, the suitcases placed against the wall opened one after another, and hidden manuscripts flew from all directions, levitating before Bryan Watson. They stood suspended in mid-air, slowly flipping through their pages, revealing the unforgivable secrets they held.
"Hmph–"
After briefly skimming through all the manuscripts, Bryan let out a cold snort. He looked at the picture frame placed on the tea table, where the wizard inside no longer wore a radiant smile but instead shrunk into a corner of the frame., staring at Bryan Watson in terror, trembling uncontrollably. "A bit of courage, Professor Lockhart. I'm truly impressed." Bryan stood alone in the office, his laughter softly murmuring.
IMPORTANT BELOW:
AUTHOR'S NOTE: In this chapter i have added some things like some readers said so this is a kind of experimental chapter, if you guys like this in more detailed way then i will start writing like this from now on, if you think that the style of previous chpaters was good then i will do in previous chapter. No need to worry the core story won't change. Its just a style change. Let Me Know in the Comments Section your thoughts.
