Harry Potter’s Natural Villain Chapter 327: Lockhart’s Childhood

"My father is a Muggle, my mother is a witch, and I have two older sisters, but they did not inherit the magic of my mother, but I inherited..." Lockhart began to whisper. Come and remember my childhood.

"She loves me very much." Lockhart's tone now has no complacency at all. By now, he's just expounding a faint fact.

"I am a wizard, I can go to Hogwarts, but neither of my two sisters will work! This makes me very proud."

"At that time, I was beginning to be vanity, and that kind of emotion was breeding in my heart, even though I didn't know it was vanity at that time." Lockhart said slowly.

"I try my best to attract the attention of others, to attract the attention of others, which makes me satisfied."

"By the way, I could actually go in Slytherin at the time, but I ended up in Ravenclaw."

"I thought I was the best, but I am not." Lockhart's tone at this time was not unwilling, but relieved.

"There, no one was surprised by my naturally handsome curly hair."

"Even though I am actually smarter than most other people."

"But I am not satisfied, I want to do my best, otherwise life will be meaningless."

"It sounds stupid right now, right."

Her Sensitivity nodded slightly in agreement.

She actually pursues perfection very much. It is all on the excellent transcript, if there is a good one at any time.

She will also be mad and uncomfortable.

But it looks like Lockhart has gone to the other extreme.

He put his mind on grandstanding.

"I did some stupid things to attract their attention."

"I brag to my classmates that I hope to make the Philosopher's Stone before graduation."

"I also plan to lead the English Quidditch team to win the World Cup and eventually become the youngest Minister of Magic in the UK."

"Not bad ideal." Hermione comforted in a whisper, not knowing what expression to make for a moment.

This sounds a bit fanciful, but out of courtesy, Hermione complimented him.

"But in the end it should have been pretty good, right? After you graduated, you were also famous." Hermione recalled for a moment, and began to list some of his titles.

"Sir Merlin's third-level medal winner, honorary member of the Anti-Dark Magic League, and five times won the "Witcher Weekly" Most Charming Smile Award, which is also a very powerful achievement."

"What if I say that my achievements are fake?" Lockhart's words shocked Hermione.

"Fake?" She repeated it once, and cast her eyes on the man again.

"Didn't you defeat many evil black magic creatures?"

"I'm sorry, I deceived many people. I coaxed those accomplished wizards and witches to reveal their greatest deeds, and then erased their memories, and finally processed them and wrote them in the book , Became my own thing."

"The Forgotten Curse?" Hermione looked at Lockhart in surprise, frowning subconsciously.

"Yes, this is the only spell I'm good at." Loha nodded and smiled bitterly at Hermione.

"When I was a student, my studies were abandoned."

"I used to engrave my name on the Quidditch Stadium with 20-foot-long letters."

"I used to project my portrait into the sky, just like the dark mark of a mysterious man."

"I put all my energy on this, but the really powerful magic, I basically didn't learn anything."

"That is to say, you don't actually know how to defend against the Dark Arts, so why did Professor Dumbledore allow you to serve?" Hermione immediately grasped the key to the question and asked.

"I don't know either." Lockhart still had a bitter smile on his face, and slowly shook his head.

"By the way, Miss Granger, I have a little request. Can you satisfy me?" the man said abruptly.

"Let's talk about it." Hermione was in a daze now, desperately trying to use Lockhart's own logic to piece together the details, straighten everything out, and integrate it all.

But it's too difficult.

"Can you ask me to sign another name? I want to experience this feeling of being worshipped again." Lockhart said tentatively, making a strange request.

Hermione's face was shocked for a moment, but she understood quickly again.

"Professor Lockhart, I am your admirer. Could you please sign me?" Hermione approached him with a look of worship, and put the "Prophet" on the bedside table The Daily picked it up and handed it to Lockhart.

"It's a great honor." Gildro Lockhart smiled, keeping his original elegant smile, he didn't know where to change his peacock brush, and he left himself on the paper smoothly. Fancy and gorgeous signature.

Handed it to Hermione.

"Thank you." He said.

"No." Hermione responded briefly.

"Thank you." Lockhart repeated once, then closed his eyes, closed his eyelids, and soon fell asleep.

This is a vaguely unilateral conversation, and it's over.

Hermione's sympathy still prevailed, fulfilling the wishes of the dying person.

In this conversation, Hermione heard how a gifted person obscured the crowd, and some of her inner doubts were solved, but the most important secrets and mysteries were still not solved.

The so-called truth is still clouded.

Then Hermione went all the way downstairs and left the St. Mungo’s Magical Hospital, and met the Weasleys and Harry at an agreed Muggle supermarket. After walking for a while, she found a dilapidated small hotel under.

On the next day, they came to visit Mr. Weasley again, and were about to go back to school and leave.

It can be seen that they are not very interested on the way back to school.

"Harry? They quarreled?" Hermione asked quietly.

"Because of Percy." Harry explained in a low voice.

"Don't mention him, Umbridge's lackey! What kind of work keeps him so busy that he won't even look at Dad." Even though he lowered his voice, Ron heard it, and then yelled out loudly.

"What are you talking about?" Mrs. Weasley patted Ron on the head~IndoMTL.com~He is your brother, don't talk nonsense. "Mrs. Weasley said sternly.

Then the group walked into a fruit shop. Many tiles fell off the tiles outside, and many flies were flying around.

This is another hidden Floo fan site.

After Mrs. Weasley bid farewell, the group returned to Hogwarts. After all, they had to go to class tomorrow.

The visit is over.

At the same time, in an office of the Ministry of Magic, the political center of the British wizarding society, under the ground in the most prosperous downtown area of ​​London, such a scene was staged.

This is a room opened out of thin air between the third and fourth floors of the Ministry of Magic. It has a circular appearance. The most placed around are bookcases and books, occasionally one or two. The book does not look so flat, with a golden feather sticking out of the pages abruptly.

That is Fox's golden tail feathers.