A Professor of Magic at Hogwarts

Chapter 98: Confession and Aid

As Felix Harp returned to the castle, a satisfied smile adorned his face.

With several professors joining his ranks, his Dueling course was growing stronger by the day. Perhaps in the future, he could invite more professors to join in the fun?

Especially that afternoon, when he received a message from the owl named 'Snowy':

"Dear Felix Harp, the ceremony for my award is scheduled for 4th February at ten in the morning (Saturday), located in Room 3 on the second floor of the Ministry of Magic (to the left of the Wizengamot Administration Services Office). I invite you to attend as a guest. -Damocles Belby"

Felix wrote a reply, estimating the time and realizing he had about half a month.

In the evening, after tutoring Hermione Granger in Ancient Runes, Felix handed the young witch a glass of pumpkin juice.

Typically, after the Ancient Runes class, his assistant would spend some time in the office, partly to unwind from the mental exhaustion of the Pensieve and partly to engage in interesting conversations or answer questions.

Today, they brought up Gilderoy Lockhart.

Hermione held the cup and asked, "Professor, what's your view on Lockhart?"

"How do I see him?" Felix raised an eyebrow. His assistant had been on the job for half a year, and he understood her conversational habits quite well. This was one of her ways of extracting information.

"Your opinion of him as a person, his teaching, his books, and such."

Felix glanced at Hermione. "Professor Lockhart is a very talkative individual, quite the showman. That's a trait we don't share, even though we both don the mantle of authors."

Hermione pressed further, "So, how do you evaluate his books? You must have read them, right?"

"I have indeed," Felix said, "They're not particularly useful for me, but for students, there's quite a bit of value in the methods he offers for dealing with danger and discovering it."

"Actually, I appreciate his approach of integrating knowledge into his stories. Maybe I'll try that myself someday." Felix looked at Hermione with genuine interest, and her brow furrowed.

"But," she hesitated, her voice faltering, "don't you think there's a stark contrast between the books he writes and his behavior in the classroom? A strong sense of incongruity?"

"Perhaps," Felix judged noncommittally, "It's evident that his books contain elements of fiction and ambiguity. But we can only fault his personal integrity. At the very least, he did research while writing."

"But what if," Hermione nervously proposed, a thin layer of sweat forming on her forehead, "what if his stories were stolen from other people's minds?"

The office fell silent for a few moments.

"That's a very serious accusation, Miss Granger. If your claim holds true, the person committing such an act would be sent to Azkaban," Felix said sternly.

"Granger, I need evidence."

Trembling, Hermione reached into her robe and pulled out a crumpled piece of parchment.

"This... This is what we found in Professor Lockhart's office." She struggled to speak, it was Ron who had done the deed, but she and Harry had mutually decided not to lay all the blame on Ron alone.

Felix looked at her with a somewhat surprised expression. He now understood why his assistant had been sorted into Gryffindor – she was a restless and fiery witch.

The type who would barge into a professor's office without a second thought.

Upon reflection, Felix Harp realized that his practice of setting the Binding Vines at the door whenever he left his office was indeed quite prescient.

As he perused the documents, one name caught his attention: "Old Wizard Visit to Armenia (Note: Werewolf Adventure)."

"Why are there two different types of handwriting?" he muttered to himself, flipping through the pages. He soon noticed the discrepancy.

There were a dozen or so pages of parchment, with most of them neatly written in Hermione's handwriting. However, three pages bore a different style of handwriting.

"We, I..." Hermione swallowed, finding it difficult to admit her violation of school rules.

"Take your time, I'm listening," Felix said calmly.

"Here's what happened. Ron was in detention in Lockhart's office, copying fan mail as a punishment. He stumbled upon some hidden information, realized something was off, and secretly took three pages with him. Based on the content of these pages, we suspect that Lockhart's books might not be based on his own experiences but rather stolen stories from others."

"We decided to gather evidence in secret and investigate the truth."

Felix listened attentively.

"In the following week, Ron kept taking portions of the information during his detention."

Felix was impressed by their audacity. "And Lockhart didn't notice?"

"Lockhart hasn't been doing well lately. His memory is poor, and he's been quite scatterbrained. Also, after we got our hands on the pages, we would quickly transcribe them and return the originals the next day..."

"These three original pages are what we consider important evidence of Lockhart stealing others' stories!"

Felix wasn't sure whether to applaud their careful planning or reprimand them. It seemed his words about focusing on their studies hadn't quite sunk in.

He pulled out the three original pages and immediately recognized the writing style – it was the work of a professional Quick-Quotes Quill.

These quills had a distinct trait; they would often record words according to the owner's intentions, even twisting, altering, and embellishing dialogues with vivid descriptions of gestures and expressions.

Felix had witnessed the power of such quills at Rita Skeeter's house.

He studied the pages earnestly:

Crooked Wizard: My head hurts, as if a spoon is constantly digging in my brain. What's happening to me?

Daring Adventurer: It's quite normal. Here, have some juice. It'll do you good.

The Crooked Wizard painfully drank the juice spiked with an unknown potion.

Daring Adventurer: Let's continue talking about the werewolf story. You've been chatting about it in the pub these days. Forgot already? I treated you to quite a few drinks. But I want more details... By the way, can I take a look at your memories later? After all, readers need an immersive experience.

Crooked Wizard: I don't know, something's off, there's a problem...

Daring Adventurer: How could that be? Look at me, I can help you.

The Adventurer raised their wand.

Felix's expression grew somber as he finished reading the three pages of parchment. The situation was more serious than he had anticipated.

He outlined a rough logic: Lockhart spotted a target at the tavern, spent a few days getting to know them or, in other words, befriending the unfortunate individual. Then, either through an ambush or a potion, he managed to control the person.

Afterward, Lockhart used memory magic or some sort of Veritaserum-like substance to extract the entire story.

"What do you want me to do?" Felix asked calmly.

"Expose his true nature, of course," Hermione answered without hesitation.

"Usually, the content of a Quick-Quotes Quill can't be used as evidence. However," Felix continued, "as long as we know what he's done, the situation can be handled."

"I will inform Headmaster Dumbledore. With his abilities, he'll handle it properly. If need be, I can resort to less proper methods."

Hermione hesitated.

"Is there anything else?" Felix inquired.

"Professor, it's Ron's trouble. We need your help."

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