Chapter two hundred and ninety fifth put rotten Vincent
Lockhart's classroom is the same as Quirrell's from last year.
But in terms of decoration layout, earth-shaking changes have taken place.
First of all, the desks that had been used for hundreds of years were all replaced with precious golden nan wood.
Then the dark red seats and podium were replaced with dignified rosewood.
Then there is wallpaper covered with delicate patterns that vaguely form a human face.
Finally, there is the black velvet carpet and the colorful crystal chandelier hanging from the ceiling.
This aura of nouveau riche exuded from the inside out made Vincent subconsciously want to skip class when he first entered.
Lockhart didn't give him this chance, "Wayne? Oh - we meet again!"
"Ah, yes." Vincent stiffened his face and avoided his hug without leaving a trace.
"Come on, Wayne." Lockhart opened his arms again, "Are you being shy?"
"Professor, I have severe mysophobia."
"Oh well."
He was lost for less than half a second, and then he smiled again, "Actually, I used to have mysophobia, but I found a way to overcome it——"
Draco sat down in a high-key manner, putting on a face that looked like he was watching a good show.
Not only Pote, Vayne is also where she is today.
"Did you remember it?"
"Ah? Oh, remember."
After educating Vincent, Lockhart seemed to have gained a great sense of accomplishment.
"Sit down quickly, we are about to start class."
The students were all suppressing laughter, even Neville, the most honest person sitting next to him, was no exception.
Vincent put on a poker face and glanced contemptuously at Draco, who was blushing from holding back.
Not only did the other party not restrain himself, he even gave an arrogant thumbs up.
Okay, there are activities in the evening.
Lockhart came to the first row of Gryffindor and saw Vincent's empty desk. The smile on his face froze for less than half a second.
"Vincent, did you forget to bring your textbook?"
"Yes."
"It's okay." He walked quickly back to the podium, "To avoid this situation, I have prepared a few more sets."
Vincent lowered his head and glanced at a pile of new books on the table, almost rolling his eyes and sighing.
The close-up photo on the cover is still disgusting, and the gold signature underneath is even more glaring.
"Oh, Wayne, don't be so moved." Lockhart leaned over and put his hand on his shoulder.
"I am your teacher, and I should take care of and tolerate you."
Vincent, who almost suffered from PTSD, responded with an awkward yet polite smile.
It’s the kind of high-quality human smile with no flaws at all.
Lockhart straightened up as if he didn't understand, and held up the collector's edition of "Walking with Trolls" with his photo printed on the top.
"I——" He pointed at the book cover with his other hand, perfectly replicating the blinking expression on it.
"Gilderoy Lockhart, recipient of the Order of Merlin, Third Class, honorary member of the Defense League against Dark Arts, and five-time winner of Wizarding Weekly's Most Charming Smile Award——
But I don’t talk about that, I don’t drive away the ghosts of Bandon with my smile!”
Bandon is a small Irish town.
When a relative dies or is about to die there, the female ghost will sing mournful songs to foretell the death.
The level of deterrence is basically zero, it's just annoying.
Among all the smiles, only Seamus was so frightened that he couldn't stop shaking.
Fortunately, all the students' eyes were on Lockhart, who was walking back to the podium.
"I see you all bought my complete set of books, which is great.
Let’s take a little test today.
Don't be afraid, I just want to see how you read and how much you understand."
Vincent quickly scanned the test paper he was handed out and was sure that he could not solve any of the questions.
1.What is Gilderoy Lockhart’s favorite color?
2. What is Gilderoy Lockhart’s secret ambition?
3. What do you think is Gilderoy Lockhart’s greatest achievement to date?
He looked at Hermione, who was immersed in writing, and realized that there was no need to test.
He is indeed the same on the outside and is indeed narcissistic to the extreme.
As soon as the quill was thrown away, Vincent started the destruction mode.
"Wayne? You've finished writing?"
"I won't."
"Ah?" Lockhart almost fell off the podium, "Don't you even preview during the summer vacation?"
"Yes." Vincent raised the paper in his hand, "Professor, what colors do you like, what ambitions and achievements do you have, it will not help my future at all."
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The students all raised their necks in confusion, including Draco who was beaming with joy.
"Of course it helps!" Lockhart stood up a little excitedly, "Vincent, I know you helped the Magic Congress deal with two Fulakans during the summer vacation.
But it’s nothing. I once faced Yamata Torochi directly, and you can’t even imagine how dangerous it is.”
He came to Vincent's desk and said earnestly: "Fame is not everything, Vincent.
I hope you can put aside your past achievements and try to take one of my classes with an open mind, so that you will learn more from it."
Hermione lowered her little head and stared blankly at the questions on the test paper.
Vincent was right, but Lockhart put it very beautifully.
She is not the only student who feels this way.
Basically all the boys are there, and there are also a few girls.
"Thank you, professor." Vincent handed over the blank test paper.
Draco reached out and dug his ears, trying to make sure that he wasn't the only one who could hear the sound just now.
"I'll look forward to your class."
The smile hanging on Lockhart's lips was a little stiff, "Of course, you will learn unparalleled knowledge."
He turned to the students, "My mission is to teach you to resist the most evil things known to the wizarding world, and you will face the most terrifying things in this classroom."
He walked back to the podium and pulled out a large cage covered with black cloth from underneath. "Please remember, as long as I am here, you will not be harmed in any way."
Most students subconsciously leaned back.
"I must ask you not to scream." Lockhart lowered his voice. "That will anger them!"
Under the watchful eyes of the students, he lifted up the black cloth covering it.
"Yes, this is the Cornish elf I just caught."
"Pfft--" Seamus' "scream" is quite funny.
Lockhart looked at him with a smile, "What's the matter, Mr. Finnigan?"
Seamus suppressed a laugh and said, "Professor, they are not - they are not dangerous at all."
"Don't be so sure!" Lockhart shook his finger angrily, "They are little saboteurs as cunning as the devil!"
The Cornish elf is livid, about eight inches tall, has a small pointed face, and has a very shrill voice, like a large group of budgies quarreling.
They were chirping, jumping up and down, shaking the cage bars, and making all kinds of weird faces at the people nearby.
Scary?
No, it's even cute.
Even Neville, who was recognized as "cowardly", was not afraid, let alone the entire classroom of students.
"Okay." Lockhart put his hand on the cage door, "Let me see how you deal with them!"
The moment he opened the cage, the elves were flying around like rockets.