Before they knew it, Hogwarts was approaching its final exams.
Despite not having studied at all, Morris was confident he could get a good grade.
That's confidence.
And that was indeed the case; he completed almost every exam very smoothly.
To his surprise, the Dark Magic Defence Class paper was actually quite serious.
None of the questions had anything to do with Lockhart's "adventure stories".
Morris reasonably suspected that the exam paper was most likely taken by someone else.
Aside from that, Potions Class was rather unusual, as Snape once again gave him the papers from the older students.
This was definitely intentional.
After the last exam, the students completely relaxed, eagerly rushing outside the castle to breathe in the fresh air under the sun.
Morris walked out of the examination room, looked through the corridor window at the lake shimmering in the sunlight in the distance, and fell into thought.
What kind of base should I design?
In stark contrast to the relaxed students, Gilderoy Lockhart sat in his office with a serious expression.
Just now, he received a message from a "friend" in the Ministry of Magic —it seems someone in the Ministry is secretly investigating him, but he doesn't know why.
Lockhart stood up and paced anxiously around the room.
Investigating in secret?
What aspects of him are worth investigating?
The answer is almost obvious.
Although his Memory Charm was powerful, the things he did were not entirely without precedent.
Similar situations have occurred in the past, and he has always been able to resolve or defuse potential crises through his personal connections or money.
But this time it's clearly not that simple.
The Ministry of Magic has intervened... something has to be done!
Suddenly, a sharp pain pierced his temple.
Lockhart stumbled, grabbing the edge of the desk to steady himself.
"Here we go again..." He gritted his teeth, pulled open the drawer, and tremblingly grabbed a small bottle of painkillers and gulped them down.
His headaches have been flaring up more and more frequently lately, and they always seem to strike when he's most stressed.
Each time he has an attack, he feels his mind is foggy and blank, and even medication can't relieve it.
Why is that?
( Morris: Guess.)
Fortunately, the headache came on quickly and went away quickly.
A dozen seconds later, the pain completely subsided, leaving only a cold sweat.
"Knock knock!"
There was a knock on the office door.
"Please come in."
Lockhart wiped his face with his sleeve, putting on that perfect smile he had practiced thousands of times.
The doorknob turned, and a female student entered.
Lockhart vaguely recognized her; this was Hermione Granger.
A Gryffindor always had many questions and excellent grades was also his loyal fan, and answered almost all the questions on the test paper during the opening exam.
Lockhart has always maintained the utmost patience and grace towards his fans.
This is an important part of maintaining a positive public image.
"Is there anything I can help you with, Miss Granger?" he asked with a smile.
Hermione eagerly explained her purpose.
" Professor Lockhart, could you tell me the standard answers to the exam in advance? Although I checked the book, I'm still unsure about the answers to a few questions. For example, the last one, the ways to counter invisible dark creatures..."
Lockhart maintained his expression, his mind racing.
How could he possibly know the answers to the exam?
He asked a friend to do it for him, and he didn't even look at the details carefully.
" Miss Granger, relax, relax!" His voice was infectious. "It's good to be demanding of yourself, but sometimes, getting too caught up in the details can make you lose your way..."
Lockhart rambled on for ages without offering a single useful answer.
Hermione was speechless.
She just wanted to know the answer as soon as possible.
Even if Lockhart is an incompetent fool, surely he wouldn't be completely ignorant of the exam questions for his own subject?
It's simply... whatever.
Hermione sighed, her tone gradually calming, "I'm leaving now, Professor Lockhart. Goodbye."
At that moment, Lockhart suddenly felt that familiar stinging pain in his head return, and this time it was unusually intense. The smile on his face instantly twisted.
"Ugh!"
A suppressed cry of pain escaped Lockhart's throat, sounding extremely agonizing.
"Professor?!" Hermione exclaimed in surprise, her face filled with astonishment.
Lockhart's face was deathly pale, veins bulged on his forehead, and large beads of sweat poured down his face.
He fell backward, crashing heavily to the floor with a thud, and passed out.
A deathly silence fell over the office.
Hermione froze for a few seconds, then reacted, leaving behind the words, "Hang in there, I'll get help right away!" before rushing out of the office.
The corridors were empty; most students were still celebrating their holiday outdoors or in the common room.
Hermione had just run to the corner of the stairs when she almost bumped into someone.
"Be careful. Oh, it's you, Hermione. What's wrong?"
Morris was leisurely walking upstairs, toying with a black gem in his hand, when he looked up and suddenly saw Hermione's panicked face.
"It's Professor Lockhart," Hermione stopped, panting, "He collapsed in his office."
Lockhart?
Morris raised an eyebrow. "Take me to see."
"I think it would be best to go see a professor or... never mind, come with me."
The two quickly returned to Lockhart's office.
Morris looked thoughtfully at Lockhart lying on the ground.
At this moment, Lockhart's consciousness was shrouded in darkness.
After the excruciating pain subsided, what remained was not clarity, but confusion.
All those memories and emotions that had been buried deep in his brain suddenly surfaced, entangling him like a quagmire.
He recalled the fleeting look of bewilderment in the old, talkative wizard's eyes when he first raised his wand and cast the Memory Charm.
He recalled countless nights he spent racking his brains under the lamp, weaving the adventure stories he had collected from others into a legend belonging to Gilderoy Lockhart, using ornate language.
He recalled the real, ordinary Gilderoy deep within himself—a man of mediocre magical talent, yearning for attention, and fearing failure and being looked down upon...
Guilt, vanity, fear, and disgust with his own mediocrity... these emotions, which he had suppressed for years with Memory Charm and lies, suddenly erupted, shattering his fragile mental defenses.
Finally, Lockhart's eyelids twitched a few times, and he slowly opened them.
His usually bright and lively eyes were now shrouded in a gray hue.
He didn't say anything, but simply got up from the floor, ignored Hermione and Morris, and walked straight out of the office.
"Oh ho, interesting," Morris said softly.
Hermione: "?"