Horatio tucked Tom Riddle's diary into his cloth bag and dubbed himself, "Ding, Voldemort Horcrux plus one."
[Ding, Voldemort Horcrux +1. Didn't you want me to give you a notification?]
"Shouldn't you be giving me a reward according to the tropes in the novels I've read?"
[Sorry, I've used up all my recent application opportunities.]
"Tch, you keep giving me books every time. Can't you just give me skill points to allocate directly? I feel like I'm about to grow a brain."
[Sorry, that's an ability of advanced systems. Want me to apply for it? At most, They'll just erase you for failing the mission.]
"No, this is fine. I was already tired of working in my past life. Reading is nice. I like reading."
After finishing his conversation with the artificial idiot, the system went back to playing dead. Horatio's consciousness returned to reality, only for reality to greet him with a heavy elbow.
Hermione watched Horatio clutching his stomach like a cooked prawn. "Hmph, that's what you get for provoking me."
Ron walked up to Hermione, gazed at her passionately, then dropped to his knees with a thud. "Big Sister Hermione, please save this little brother's life."
Mrs. Granger looked at Mr. Granger, who was excitedly throwing punches beside her, and several question marks appeared over her head.
Everyone decided to meet at Flourish and Blotts an hour later. Mr. Granger had originally planned to keep a close eye on Horatio, but Arthur was simply too enthusiastic, so he could only follow Arthur to the Leaky Cauldron for a drink.
Before leaving, he handed something to Mrs. Granger and instructed her, "Keep an eye on that brat. If he dares lay a hand on Hermione, use this thing to finish him off."
Mrs. Granger rolled her eyes at him and did not take the object, ignoring him as she continued chatting with Molly.
Horatio's eye twitched as he looked at the thing in Mr. Granger's hand—the kind Harry found useful, Ron used for duels, and even Voldemort could buy.
Oh, so you were planning to use that thing against me? Then it'd be hard to justify not parking a Hippogriff outside your house.
"Hermione, want to go shopping together? My treat," Horatio invited.
Hermione had given Horatio a hard hit earlier, and most of her anger had dissipated. "Sure. Then thank you, Mr. Horatio."
So Horatio led Hermione toward a bookstore in Diagon Alley. He looked back at Mr. Granger with a taunting gaze and flashed a smug smile.
"No—" Mr. Granger let out a despairing wail as Arthur dragged him toward the Leaky Cauldron at the end of Diagon Alley.
An hour later, everyone except Arthur and Mr. Granger had gathered outside Flourish and Blotts.
To their surprise, a huge crowd had packed the area outside the shop, and a large banner hung overhead:
"Gilderoy Lockhart Signing Copies of His Autobiography, The Magical Me"
Gilderoy Lockhart sat behind a table, surrounded by large photographs of himself. Lockhart wore a blue robe, winked at the crowd, and flashed a set of pearly white teeth.
In front of him stood a reporter claiming to be from The Daily Prophet, constantly taking photographs of him.
Seeing Lockhart's flamboyant appearance, Horatio had a bold idea. He pulled Fred and George into a secluded corner.
"Do you want your brother to make the front page of The Daily Prophet?" Horatio asked mysteriously.
"Go on," Fred and George said with great interest.
Horatio took a packet of powder and a bottle of potion from his cloth bag. "This is a new potion I developed by improving Amortentia. I call it the Thinking of You Potion. Just a tiny bit will make someone madly fall in love with whoever has been sprinkled with this powder."
"You mean...?"
"Think about it. If Lockhart wildly confessed his love to a young wizard, would that make The Daily Prophet?"
Fred and George were deeply tempted, but they still asked, "Then how are we supposed to drug Lockhart?"
Horatio took out a transparent plastic box from his cloth bag. Inside was something about the size of a mosquito. "This is a prototype drugging machine I developed to mess with Snape—the Dar-Squito Prototype. It'll handle the drugging later. You only need to sprinkle the powder on Ron."
The three of them finalized the details in the corner and let out strange laughter. Sirius Black, who happened to pass by, shook his head.
When the three returned to the scene, Lockhart was pulling Harry over for photographs.
After a while, George gave Horatio a signal to show that their task was complete.
Horatio controlled the Dar-Squito, already filled with potion, and sent it flying toward Lockhart. It landed on his neck and injected the Thinking of You Potion into his bloodstream.
Lockhart did not feel anything unusual. He gave Harry a copy of his autobiography and announced to the audience that he would become the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry that September.
Thunderous applause erupted from below. Lockhart looked with satisfaction at the audience applauding him, but suddenly, he noticed a red-haired little boy beside Harry Potter. His fiery red hair, slight frame, and youthful cheeks tugged incessantly at Lockhart's heartstrings.
Unable to restrain himself, Lockhart walked down from the stage and approached Ron. He shoved Harry aside and asked passionately, "May I ask your name?"
Ron had no idea what he was about to face. Thinking that Lockhart admired him, he replied excitedly, "Mr. Lockhart, my name is Ron Weasley."
Lockhart seized Ron's hand and led him onto the stage, excitedly announcing to the audience, "Today, I met the beloved I will spend my life protecting—Mr. Ron Weasley."
Lockhart turned around, dropped to one knee, and confessed to Ron, "Mr. Ron Weasley, it was love at first sight. Every movement you make tugs at my heart. I've fallen in love with you. Will you be with me?" With that, he lifted Ron's hand and kissed his fingers.
"Wow!!!" Cheers erupted from below, accompanied by thunderous applause. After all, this was England. It was understandable.
The Daily Prophet reporter clicked his camera shutter until it practically smoked, determined to capture this moment.
"Get together! Get together!!" Fred and George shouted from below the stage, and the audience joined in. "Get together!"
Ron stood helplessly onstage. He wanted to pull free from Lockhart but could not, so he looked toward Molly in the crowd, hoping for her help. But something utterly despairing happened: Molly was cheering alongside Mrs. Granger, and their voices were the loudest in the entire crowd.
Ron simply could not withstand the stimulation anymore. He shut his eyes and fainted.
Harry saw Horatio's satisfied smile and felt a chill run through his entire body. Horatio was too ruthless. How was Ron supposed to live after this?
The next day, Ron woke up in bed and said, "I think I had a nightmare."
He discovered a newspaper pinning a length of white silk to the bedside table and picked up the newspaper in confusion.
It was a copy of The Daily Prophet, and its headline read: "Shocking: The Person Gilderoy Lockhart, Author of The Magical Me, Fell in Love With Was Actually Him!!"
Ron's vision went dark, and he nearly fainted again. He tore the newspaper to shreds like a madman, then turned to look at the length of white silk by his bed.
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