You Open Your Mouth

Even the most amiable professors like Sprout and Flitwick always had a sour face during class.

To prove they weren't a useless piece of trash like Lockhart, all the professors were incredibly enthusiastic.

The lesson covered the content of two or three regular lessons in one class, and the requirements for the students were ridiculously strict.

Professor McGonagall's mouth never stopped, constantly correcting the students' gestures and chanting rhythm.

Neville looked at her and almost thought he was in Snape's Potions Class.

In the Headmaster's Office, Albus Dumbledore rubbed his numb ears and sighed helplessly.

"Is this Mr. Riddle's method? I never expected Slytherin to be so united."

He was unaware of the commotion at the Ministry of Magic until Fudge arrived that afternoon with a representative from the School Governor.

He then realized that Tom had used a combination of attacks!

"Albus, my old friend," Fudge shook his hand warmly, a hint of reproach in his voice, "You've really gotten me into a lot of trouble!"

Although he said that, Fudge wasn't actually angry.

After understanding Mrs. Greengrass and others' demands, his first reaction was to breathe a sigh of relief.

Thankfully, they weren't after me; they were after Albus Dumbledore to complain about Lockhart.

Fortunately, it turned out that the trouble was still quite significant, as the people who co-signed the Howler were all major financial backers of the Ministry of Magic.

He has to take seriously the substantial political donations he makes each year.

However, Hogwarts is Albus Dumbledore's territory, and no minister has ever interfered with the appointment or removal of professors.

Moreover, he was able to rise to power thanks in Albus Dumbledore's support.

The two are currently in their honeymoon phase. He respects Albus Dumbledore and also appreciates his attitude of focusing solely on Hogwarts and not interfering in the affairs of the Ministry of Magic.

Fortunately, Mrs. Greengrass's investigation that morning uncovered something incriminating about Lockhart, which gave Fudge the confidence to bring a representative from the School Governor to discuss the matter.

The School Governor representative was an old man, not one of the Twenty-Eight Pure-blood, but he was still Slytherin graduate.

He owns many businesses. Twenty years ago, he bought shares from a down-on-his-luck School Governor member, hoping to enhance his reputation by leveraging his position School Governor.

After exchanging pleasantries, the old man expressionlessly slammed a piece of parchment onto the table.

"Albus Dumbledore, the Board of Directors has always trusted you and has never interfered with your teaching philosophy."

"But the professor you chose this time has caused extreme dissatisfaction among more than half of the School Governor."

"This is a joint report from all eight directors; they still have expectations for you."

He suddenly raised his voice, "The School Governor donate their money every year without expecting anything in return. They're not for you to waste on mediocre people like this. Please be more careful when selecting professors in the future."

Albus Dumbledore nodded, looking helpless. "I also hope the children can have a good learning environment, but you must understand my difficulties, Balak."

"If we don't raise professors' salaries, it will be really hard to find suitable people for the Defense Against the Dark Arts course."

Balak's lips twitched, inwardly thinking: I'm here to hold someone accountable, and you're using this as an excuse to ask for money?!

"I will relay your request to the other School Governor." Balak could only resort to delaying tactics. He said goodbye to Fudge and turned to leave.

After he left, Fudge sat down opposite Albus Dumbledore, took out a handkerchief to wipe his sweat, and said, "Albus, your fireplace is burning way too brightly, it's so hot!"

"Old people are afraid of the cold, Cornelius, please be understanding." Albus Dumbledore smiled and poured him a cup of tea.

"Of course, you must take good care of yourself." Fudge changed the subject and leaned forward.

"Honestly, Albus, whether you can find a new professor or not, Lockhart can't stay any longer. There's something seriously wrong with him."

"Oh? What did you find out?" Albus Dumbledore curiosity, but his eyes betrayed his understanding.

"This is just a preliminary clue," Fudge shook his head. "It's certain that his novel, <Gadding with Ghouls>, is fake."

"The timeline of the adventures described in the book doesn't match his actual itinerary."

"During that time, he was discussing the release of his new book with the deputy editor of Witch Weekly and didn't leave the Britain at all."

"Amelia Bones originally wanted the Ministry of Magic to issue a formal order to arrest him, but I stopped him."

Fudge blinked, giving him a "I've been pretty good, haven't I?" look. "I think this is something you should decide; we can't let the Ministry of Magic overstep its authority."

"Cornelius, thank you so much," Albus Dumbledore smile. "I'll suspend Lockhart's position pending the Ministry of Magic's investigation."

Before he was blinded by power, Fudge had truly high emotional intelligence.

Even Albus Dumbledore was completely charmed by him and thought he was a reliable partner.

Fudge achieved his goal, did someone a favor, and left satisfied.

Two days later, Lockhart's injuries had finally healed.

Madam Pomfrey had been looking forward to this day for a long time. She was tired of hearing him lying in bed cursing Tom and crying out in pain.

I almost couldn't resist pouring him a bottle of "Draught of Living Death" to numb him first.

"Tom Riddle! You just wait, I'll send you to Azkaban!"

Lockhart uttered harsh words as he walked towards the door.

He barely managed to compose himself by the time he reached the door, putting on a refined and scholarly air as he pushed open the door to the Hospital Wing.

As a result, a group of young wizards gathered outside the gate to watch the spectacle, along with two middle-aged male wizards dressed in black robes, their expressions as serious as if they were about to arrest a dark wizard.

Upon seeing Lockhart, one of the wizards immediately raised a parchment, his voice icy. "Girold Lockhart, you're under arrest."

"You are suspected of five crimes, including fraud and unauthorized alteration of wizarding memories. You are now formally charged by the Ministry of Magic. Please come with us."

Lockhart's face turned pale instantly, his legs went weak, and he collapsed to the ground.

Looking at the two male wizards, and then at the students watching the spectacle, he managed to squeeze out, "You guys coordinated pretty well."

On the night Lockhart was taken away by the Ministry of Magic, at the Hogwarts dinner party.

Albus Dumbledore stood before the High Table and slowly addressed the entire faculty and student body, his tone tinged with self-deprecation.

"I apologize, everyone. My old eyes are failing me, and I've chosen an unqualified Professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts for you."

"According to the Ministry of Magic's investigation, all the adventures in Gilrod Lockhart's works were stolen."

"His magical talent is mediocre; the only thing he's good at is the Memory Charm."

"Effective today, I have relieved him of his professorship."

"Until a new professor is found, the Defense Against the Dark Arts class will be temporarily taught by other professors."

As soon as Albus Dumbledore finished speaking, the Great Hall erupted in chaos.

Everyone finally understood that Lockhart's dismissal wasn't because he was beaten up, but because there was another reason behind it.

Regardless, Albus Dumbledore's words confirmed everyone's suspicions: this guy was a complete waste.

Many students who had previously questioned the decision instantly felt triumphant and deliberately raised their voices.