Harry Potter’s Natural Villain

"My father is a Muggle, my mother is a witch, and I have two older sisters, but they didn't inherit the magic of my mother, but I inherited..." Lockhart began to whisper, recalling Start your childhood.

"She loves me very much." Lockhart's tone now has no complacency at all. Now, it's just exposing a light fact.

"I am a wizard and can go to Hogwarts, but neither of my two sisters will do it! This makes me very proud."

"At that time, I was becoming vain, and that kind of emotion was breeding in my heart, even though I didn't know it was vanity at that time." Lockhart said slowly.

"I try my best to attract the attention of others, to attract the attention of others, which makes me satisfied."

"By the way, I could actually go in Slytherin at the time, but I ended up in Ravenclaw."

"I thought I was the best, but I am not." Lockhart's tone at this time was not unwilling, but relieved.

"There, no one is surprised by my naturally handsome curly hair."

"Even though I am actually smarter than most other people."

"But I am not satisfied. I hope to do my best, otherwise life will be meaningless."

"It sounds stupid right now, right."

Her sensitive empathy nodded slightly in agreement.

She actually pursues perfection very much. It's all on the excellent report card, if there is a good one when.

She will also be mad and uncomfortable.

But it seemed that Lockhart had gone to the other extreme.

He put his mind on grandstanding.

"I did something stupid to attract their attention."

"I brag to my classmates that I hope to make the Philosopher's Stone before graduation."

"I also intend to lead the English Quidditch team to win the World Cup and eventually become the youngest Minister of Magic in the UK."

"Good ideal." Hermione comforted in a whisper, not knowing what to look like for a while.

This sounds a bit fanciful, but out of courtesy, Hermione praised him.

"But in the end it should have been pretty good, right? After you graduated, you were also famous far and wide." Hermione recalled for a moment and began to list some of his titles.

"Sir Merlin's third-level medal winner, an honorary member of the Anti-Dark Magic League, and five times won the "Witcher Weekly" Most Charming Smile Award, which is also a great achievement."

"What if I say that all of my achievements are fake?" Lockhart's words surprised Hermione.

"Fake?" She repeated it once, and cast her eyes on the man again.

"Didn't you defeat many evil black magic creatures?"

"I'm sorry, I deceived many people. I coaxed those accomplished wizards and witches into revealing their greatest deeds, and then erased their memories, and finally processed them and wrote them in the book. Got their own things."

"Forgetting Curse?" Hermione looked at Lockhart in surprise, frowning subconsciously.

"Yes, this is the only spell I'm good at." Loha nodded and smiled bitterly at Hermione.

"When I was a student, my studies were abandoned."

"I once engraved my name on the Quidditch Stadium in 20-foot-long letters."

"I used to project my portrait into the sky, like the dark mark of a mysterious person."

"I have put all my energy on this, and I haven't learned much about really powerful magic."

"That is to say, you don't actually know how to defend against the Dark Arts spell, so why did Professor Dumbledore allow you to serve?" Hermione immediately grasped the key to the question and asked.

"I don't know." Lockhart still kept a bitter smile on his face, and shook his head slowly.

"By the way, Miss Granger, I have a small request. Can you satisfy me?" the man said abruptly.

"Go ahead." Hermione was in a daze now, desperately trying to use Lockhart's own logic to piece together the details, straighten everything out, and integrate it.

But this is too difficult.

"Can you ask me to sign another name? I want to experience this feeling of being admired." Lockhart said tentatively, making a strange request.

Hermione's face was shocked for a moment, but she understood quickly again.

"Professor Lockhart, I am your admirer, can you sign me?" Hermione approached him, with an admiring look, and picked up the Daily Prophet on the bedside table. Got up and handed it to Lockhart.

"It's a great honor." Gilderro Lockhart smiled, keeping his original elegant smile. He didn't know where to conjure his peacock brush, smoothly leaving his own fancy and gorgeous on the paper. signature.

Passed it to Hermione.

"Thank you." He said.

"No." Hermione responded briefly.

"Thank you." Lockhart repeated once, then closed his eyes, closed his eyelids, and soon fell asleep.

This is a vaguely unilateral conversation, which is over.

Hermione's sympathy still prevailed, fulfilling the wishes of the dying.

In this conversation, Hermione heard how a gifted person obscured everyone, and some of her inner doubts were solved, but the most important secrets and mysteries were still not solved.

The so-called truth is still clouded.

Then Hermione went all the way downstairs and left the St. Mungo Magical Hospital, and met the Weasleys and Harry at an agreed Muggle supermarket. After walking for a while, she found a dilapidated small hotel to stay in.

On the next day, they came to visit Mr. Weasley again, and were about to go back to school and leave.

It can be seen that they are not very interested on the way back to school.

"Harry? They quarreled?" Hermione asked quietly.

"Because of Percy." Harry explained in a low voice.

"Don't mention him, Umbridge's lackey! What kind of work keeps him so busy that he won't even come to see him." Even though he lowered his voice, Ron heard it, and then yelled out loudly.

"What are you talking about?" Mrs. Weasley patted Ron on the head.

"He is your brother, don't talk nonsense," Mrs. Weasley said harshly.

Then the group walked into a fruit shop. Many tiles fell off the tiles outside, and many flies were flying around.

This is another hidden Floo fan site.

After Mrs. Weasley bid farewell, the group returned to Hogwarts. After all, they had to go to class tomorrow.

The visit is over.

At the same time, in an office of the Ministry of Magic, the political center of the British wizarding society, underneath the most prosperous downtown area in London, such a scene was staged.

This is a room opened up out of thin air between the third and fourth floors of the Ministry of Magic. It has a circular appearance. The bookcases and books are the most placed around. There are one or two books occasionally. It was not so flat, and a golden feather protruded abruptly from the pages of the book.

That is Fox's golden tail feathers.