Chapter 211: Summer Vacation Begins
“Do you still remember who you are?”
Melvin asked, sitting on the chair by the bedside, with a bust portrait of Lockhart behind him.
The patient eagerly replied: “Gilderoy Lockhart!”
“Not your name, your identity, who you are, where your home is, what your occupation is, what you have done before?” Melvin looked at Lockhart, “What have you experienced before being admitted to this ward?”
“Signing, signing for many people… so, I’m a celebrity?”
“Even if you are a celebrity, what do you have that is worth liking, what have you done to make others chase you, want your signature?” Melvin leaned close to his eyes and asked, the questions very detailed, as if guiding him to think.
Lockhart looked at Melvin’s eyes with some fear, those pitch-black eyes with a piercing gaze, like an abyss at the bottom of a lake, deep enough to swallow all will and thought.
He felt his mind beginning to empty, some memories that even he himself hadn’t noticed surging from the depths of his mind, like bubbles constantly rising from the bottom of the water.
Yes, why is my signature so popular?
What was I doing before being admitted here?
Lockhart tried hard to come up with an answer, but could only hear the gurgling sound of bubbles surging, with intermittent pictures and sounds flashing, but unable to form informative images, instead stinging his head with a faint pain.
“Because I’m good-looking, handsome appearance!”
“There are many wizards more handsome than you.”
“They like my smile!”
“Witch Weekly selects the most popular smile every quarter, and you’ve been eliminated many times.” Melvin denied his answer, yet guided him patiently, “Think again, think carefully, you must have some irreplaceable charm.”
“I… I don’t know, I can’t remember!” Lockhart said somewhat painfully, and after saying this, his whole body felt much more relaxed, quickly shrinking back away from Melvin, like fleeing from a ferocious beast that made him uncomfortable.
“Professor, Professor Levent…” Healer Merlin looked at him nervously, “The patient hasn’t recovered yet and needs rest, don’t stimulate him.”
“I want to see how he’s recovering.”
Melvin blinked, his eyelashes slightly lowered, the dark abyss in his eyes vanishing without a trace.
Legilimency, its inventor and time untraceable, is said that a small portion of wizards are born with the talent to see through others’ thoughts, from which Legilimency was created, strictly speaking in the realm of ancient magic, appearing as early as the time when the four founders created Hogwarts.
Very similar to the basilisk, the caster transmits magic power through eye contact, thereby peeking into the other’s thoughts, reading emotions, feelings, and memories, even finding information in the other’s mind that they themselves haven’t noticed, and can also be used to invade others’ thoughts, instilling false images and memories.
Salazar Slytherin, Dumbledore, and Voldemort are all proficient in it, Melvin had learned a little from books himself, only able to simply discern if the mind is panicked, if emotions are fluctuating violently, and if it’s a lie.
Mastery of advanced techniques still mainly relies on exchanges with pen friends.
During that time, the diary tried multiple times to invade his brain but failed, instead being deceived by the false memory charm to gain trust, Melvin also learned the techniques from his pen friend’s repeated demonstrations, learning to flip through memories in others’ minds, though not as good as those old guys, but sufficient to deal with amnesiac patients.
If Lockhart’s mind was previously a chaotic swamp, after Merlin’s careful care and treatment with the golden cup potion, the mud and sand has now settled to the bottom, accumulating a puddle of clear water.
Past memories are deeply buried in the bottom silt, even if Melvin stimulates with words or searches with Legilimency, he can only find some chaotic, illogical fragments. Without other external forces, it’s hard to restore this pile of silt into the former memory palace.
The upper clear water is a blank area for storing new memories.
The boundary between the middle clear water and silt is covered with some subconscious memories, like signing, like rudimentary magic techniques.
Melvin looked at the healer: “You said he remembered some little magics, what magics are they?”
“Well, let him demonstrate himself!”
Merlin was somewhat excited, nimbly opening the locked bedside cabinet, taking out a wand from inside and handing it to Lockhart, not his former one, but the wand the hospital uses for patient rehabilitation training.
Oak material, no wand core, Ollivander product, standard and uniform.
“Good Gilderoy, show the professor your performance.”
“Let’s practice magic!”
Lockhart gripped the wand, smiled brilliantly, as if back to when he first entered Hogwarts.
【Flames Blaze】
【Lumos】
【Wingardium Leviosa】
Melvin had some expectations hearing the spells, but seeing the actual magic effect, his expression became somewhat odd.
Making sparks burst from the wand tip, lighting up fluorescence, or making the biscuits on the table shake a few times, calling it magic, actually not even as good as little wizards who haven’t enrolled, they can do these things without a wand, hardly qualifying as technique.
“These basic spells are like signing techniques, his body memory, temporarily not proficient in the recovery period, in a bit more time, Gilderoy might really be able to cast these spells.” Merlin said reassuringly.
Melvin had no confidence in this.
For Lockhart, daily replying to reader letters, attending signings and various banquets, signing has become instinct, like eating, sleeping, walking, plus repeated practice, of course he can write well.
But spell techniques are different, these low-year elementary spells, Lockhart hasn’t touched much since graduation, long-term neglect of practice, now still remembering the incantations is already a miracle.
“I hope so.” Melvin looked at the kind healer, “I’ll continue supplying the potions, treatment can only rely on you, Lady Strau, I hope you can record the potion usage process in detail, I’m very interested in this efficacy report.”
“I will.”
【Obliviate】
A voice came from the side.
Weak magic power burst from the wand tip, still the rehabilitation wand, still the amnesiac patient, but the magic effect was no longer child’s play, but a genuine spell, Melvin turned his head, seeing dazed Lockhart waving the wand, the white light sealing memories spreading over.
“Zheng…”
A faint metallic tremor sounded, the white light immediately dissipating.
Merlin widened her eyes and rushed over, snatching the wand from his hand: “You you you… how did you cast it?”
“I… I just like this…”
Lockhart was also somewhat panicked, repeating the earlier wand-waving motion, “This spell suddenly appeared in my mind, I felt it was very familiar, so… I cast it.”
“Were you very familiar with Obliviate before?”
“I don’t know, I don’t remember.”
“…”
Melvin stood by watching the healer and patient rapid-fire questions, showing an amused expression, though elementary spells were rusty and unfamiliar, Obliviate was as familiar as signing, knowing the incantation, relying on body memory to recall the casting gesture.
Melvin approached the bed to observe: “You still remember Obliviate, do you remember how to segment memories, how to cast false memory charm?”
Lockhart hadn’t forgotten the earlier interrogation, shrinking his head back, only lifting his messy head under Merlin’s urging: “Segment memories, false memory charm? Is it magic for making up stories?”
“Can be explained that way, we can try it on the spot, I happen to have brought materials.” Melvin reached into his coat pocket to rummage, the pocket seemed full of things, clinking glass bottles during the search, finally pulling out a bottle of potion, between gas and liquid, silver mist-like potion.
Merlin hesitated to speak, per hospital rules, undetectable extension charm tools need to be reported and inspected.
“Memories in the mind are in segments, drawn out with a wand they are strands, need potion assistance to see clearly…” Melvin pointed his wand tip at his forehead, drawing out a silver thread, presenting it with silver mist, “This is my memory from traveling in Romania, at that time we were crossing a hillside, the road full of trees and flowers, very boring, only the last thirty seconds interesting, fire dragon launched a surprise attack on us.”
Melvin handed the memory silver mist to Lockhart: “You try, see if you can remove the boring front part, keep only the last 30 seconds.”
“Fire dragon!”
Lockhart looked at the flashing dragon shadow, eyes widening excitedly.
Taking the standard wand again, at first somewhat at a loss, not knowing where to start, but soon found the method, extending the wand tip into the memory silver mist to stir, magic power acting on the memory surging out, shakily splitting the entire memory into two.
The technique somewhat crude, but showing near-instinctive skill.
Merlin watched dumbfounded, no wonder the newspaper called him a memory thief, this craft almost catches up to that Elden Esriker who with 「Alohomora」 looted half of London.
Melvin showed a pleased smile, no one for accounting and finance temporarily, but he seemed to have found a senior editor.
“Lady Strau, I’d like you to continue caring for Lockhart, I’ve thought of a good path for him, no need to waste life in a closed ward, nor go to Azkaban to be tortured, but use labor to serve the wider wizarding community.”
Melvin said with a smile, while waving to disperse the silver mist in the bottle.
……
Leaving St. Mungo’s Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, a few streets away, turning a corner is Charing Cross Road, the Leaky Cauldron’s signboard still as shabby, inside gray-brown square tables, floors stained with grease and grime, and a gleaming conspicuous bar, corner with a few oddly dressed old witches, in front of the distant projection mirror sat three or two fans.
Smelling the aroma of butterbeer, seeing Old Tom’s sincere and eager gaze, Melvin lowered his head to taste a sip, at least face-brewed beer, can confirm no one spat in it pretending to be foam.
“Did you remember the work arrangement I just mentioned?” Melvin turned to look at the middle-aged male wizard sitting beside him, the appliance repair shop owner a few streets away.
“Got it, recruit manpower to set up assembly line, standardize production of projection mirrors, cooperate with Editor-in-Chief Guffey and Professor Kettleburn, and Bagman over there.” Wright shook his beer glass, secretly glancing at Dumbledore next door.
His glass wasn’t watched being made by Old Tom, but with the headmaster sitting beside, this guy shouldn’t dare tamper.
“Strengthen ties with Romania and Budapest, fire dragon breeding area can also make park news, can play anytime, no one isn’t interested in fire dragons…” Melvin said, “Ministry of Magic news to follow up promptly, especially Umbridge’s 《Anti-Werewolf Bill》, many werewolves forcibly enforced, high discussion value.”
After finishing business, the two leaned close to mutter a couple more things.
“Is the portkey I want ready?”
“Rest assured, got it from Borgin, he’s the expert.”
“He knows portkeys too?”
“He’s the black market expert.”
“…”
“You go directly to the shop to find him, depart in 40 minutes.”
“…”
Dumbledore listened to the Magic Mirror Club’s holiday work arrangements, sipping butterbeer, savoring it, even more attentive than Hogwarts affairs.
After instructing the holiday arrangements, Melvin looked at the old headmaster: “I’m heading to Paris right away, Headmaster, what are your plans next?”
“I plan to go around Yorkshire, visit one of my students, try to persuade him to teach at the school.”
Dumbledore set down his beer glass, foam still around his mouth, he sighed faintly, “I’ve been placing recruitment ads in the newspapers since Easter holiday, planning to find a new Defence Against the Dark Arts professor for the children, but no one applies… I’d say, this is somewhat influenced by the projection mirrors.”
The previous two professors both only taught half a year then gone, both disgraced, Lockhart amnesiac in hospital, Quirrell vanished in smoke, projection mirrors spread the inside story of why they couldn’t continue teaching, many wizards had heard of the Defence Against the Dark Arts position curse before, now even more convinced.
That friendly werewolf professor?
Melvin nodded thoughtfully, turning and turning, still need to find Remus Lupin.
By timeline, the Azkaban prisoner story has already begun, but the storm from this butterfly’s wings is too big, Harry and Ron’s news has passed, rat Scabbers no longer struts openly, not sure if Harry’s godfather still has motivation to swim across the North Sea.
……
France Paris, Marne Valley.
In Chercy town 32 kilometers from the city center, Disney France headquarters building lit night lights, near end of work hours, the front desk welcomed a strange visitor.
The front desk was a young lady with a pretty face, with a courteous smile: “Sir, how can I help you?”
“I want to find… let me think, your vice president and creative director, Claire Raven.”
“Do you have an appointment?”
“No, but we’re friends.”
The front desk lady still smiled, already planning to call security, but out of professional ethics, she continued serving: “Alright, please wait in the lounge next to it, I’ll ask for you.”
“…”
If he really went to the side room for coffee, he’d probably sit until others got off work.
Melvin couldn’t help pondering, also squeezing out a courteous smile: “Ask now, I can wait here.”
……
“Doo… doo…”
The ringtone echoed in the office, spacious walnut wood desk, lacquer surface glowing copper halo, on it a delicate paper cup of strong black coffee, and a small stack of scones sprinkled with rose dew.
The young vice president lady sighed tiredly, rubbed her brow, picked up the phone: “Hello?”
“Ms. Raven, there’s a strange person who wants to see you, says he’s your fri…”
The voice in the receiver became muffled, the person on the other end seemed distracted and dazed, voice getting lighter.
“My what?” Claire raised her volume to ask back.
“What?” The voice on the other end asked blankly, as if already forgetting what to say.
Claire felt mentally exhausted, what kind of people are these, even more unreliable than when she was an assistant.
Hanging up, about to bury her head back into documents, heard a mild voice:
“Your old friend.”
Claire suddenly looked up, blinked hard, her long eyelashes fluttering.
