The Pacifist Necromancer of Hogwarts

Chapter 308 Love Potion and Greeting Cards

As if the day wasn't chaotic enough, in the evening, Anthony heard that many people had been admitted to the school hospital, including fourth-year Cedric Diggory, Fred Weasley and George Weasley. Sly, and even second-year Harry Potter.

"What's going on?" he asked in surprise, "There is no Quidditch match today."

Professor Sprout cut the fried fish steak and motioned him to look at the gemstone hourglass on the wall: "A few sixth graders made some homemade... love potion, let's call it that. Anyway, it at least makes Users fall madly in love with the sour taste.”

"Sour?" Anthony breathed a sigh of relief, "That doesn't sound too dangerous."

"Yes, but both Poppy and Severus were angry." Professor Sprout said easily. "The Weasley twins ate too many sour lollipops, far more than was safe. Almost. Burned the whole tongue and throat. Same thing with the others... Oh, Diggory was better. He was found sitting outside the lounge door, knocking on the wrong barrel, drinking cup after cup of those. Spraying vinegar."

Anthony couldn't help but laugh.

He had heard of the Hufflepuff common room. People need to hit a specific barrel in a specific rhythm, and the entrance to the basement will open. If you hit it wrong, vinegar will suddenly spurt out from another barrel, pouring it all over you. . Sometimes students would come to class full of jealousy and complain to their friends that Peeves was banging on the barrel again.

"I wonder how long that vinegar has been there," Anthony said.

"Five years, fifty years, five hundred years, who knows?" Professor Sprout said with a smile. "As long as it doesn't give Digory food poisoning, it doesn't matter. However, Poppy decided to let him Stay in the campus hospital for one night to see if the effect of the potion is lifted."

"...The Daily Prophet keeps writing to me, asking me when exactly I will finish writing my new autobiography. One editor complained to me that since they mentioned in their report that I was preparing a new book - OK, I admit it. , it was an exclusive interview, but I didn't want to sound too pretentious - since that interview, letters from readers have flown into their editorial rooms like snowflakes, asking about the progress of my new book. Will we see the new Gilderoy Lockhart book? 'People are asking, 'When can I see his adventures in Hogwarts?' Readers can't wait..."

Anthony couldn't help but raise his head and glanced at the college hourglass again. Slytherin has a lot more emeralds than any other house - Anthony credits Snape's favoritism - closely followed by Gryffindor, then Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw ——

His words were interrupted by three dwarves who hurried into the hall. Professors are wary of these humanoid growling letters after word of "Booger-flavored Bibi's Beans" spreads throughout the castle.

Now everyone is looking at Anthony. Professor McGonagall even stopped her departure and stood holding on to the back of her chair.

"Oh, oh, you enthusiastic children, at least let me enjoy my boiled peas!" he said, "Okay, it doesn't matter, just bring them to me. I will treasure them." He pulled the greeting card out of the envelope, revealing a cover full of red hearts, roses and lip prints.

He opened a second envelope.

"Here's a card for you," said the other, jumping up on the table.

Lockhart sighed slightly and smiled helplessly at the students below.

Professor McGonagall said irritably: "Don't you like tonight's dinner, Gilderoy?"

"Well... yes," said Professor Sprout, "that's why Filius isn't at the table either."

Not only Professor Flitwick, but also Snape and Umbridge were absent. Lockhart was still wearing his pink wizard robes, talking among the petals in the sky. Professor McGonagall's eyebrows were knitted tightly as she cut her lamb chops hard.

Even the chatter in the auditorium was muted as everyone stared at them. Under the spotlight, the three dwarves stood at the door, looked around, and walked towards the staff table with clear goals. The students whispered excitedly.

There was a commotion at the Hufflepuff table. Several girls buried their heads in their arms, giggling and communicating under the table. The girl in the middle was blushing on the back of her neck.

Under Professor McGonagall's stern glare, Lockhart stuffed the card back into the envelope without any surprise. Showing a bright smile: "Thank you for sending me the greeting card. I will keep it well."

"Hey, Lockhart!" said a dwarf. "You have another card."

"What?" said Lockhart, "Oh, don't worry, Minerva, as I wrote in Magical Me, even though I have visited the most famous restaurants in the world and been invited to taste I’ve had roasted dragon hearts, but for me, what I miss and love the most are always these ordinary and simple dishes during the journey..."

Professor Sprout glanced in their direction and smiled indulgently. Professor McGonagall took the opportunity to finish all of her dinner and stood up.

"Are those potion-making students from Ravenclaw?" Anthony asked. He vaguely remembered that Ravenclaw was originally ranked second in the house.

"I'll read it as soon as I get back to the office." Lockhart said, putting the card back, leaning forward to look at the dwarf still standing under the table, and winking slyly, "The third letter is What? It’s a musical message, right?”

"Oh, lilac card! That's so nice, I've been wondering who would go out of their way to send me my favorite color. What a surprise."

"No," the little cupid said gloomily, and then turned to Anthony, "You have received a card, Henry Anthony." He took out a pale yellow envelope made of parchment from his pocket.

Anthony wasn't expecting it at all. He quickly swallowed the mushroom in his mouth: "Me?" Professor Sprout laughed beside him.

The dwarf held up the envelope, jumped up to the table menacingly, pushed the juice jug aside, and almost poked the card under Anthony's nose.

"That's right, you."

Anthony took the letter and tried to maintain a calm expression: "Okay, thank you."

He held the corner of the letter, carefully placed it in his bag, and nodded to the dwarf, as if he had just handed in a belated paper for a student.

The dwarf stood before him, staring at him stubbornly. Anthony prayed that he wouldn't pull out a handful of rose petals. The students snickered below.

"I received it." Anthony confirmed with an emphasis.

The dwarf nodded gloomily, adjusted the golden wings on his back, jumped off the table and left.

Anthony made up his mind not to care what his colleagues and students thought of him, and just calmly, seriously, and concentratedly dealt with the roasted mushrooms on the plate. After a while, the buzzing voices in the auditorium gradually started to sound again.

Professor McGonagall missed the opportunity to quietly leave, having to grab a glass of sparkling pumpkin juice and listen to Lockhart express the burden of fame and list his admirers ("Gladys Gurgeon" Madam…a very lovely person…”). Anthony took a look while he was getting slices of bread and found that the students were no longer staring at the staff table. He relaxed slightly.

Professor Sprout said, "Please, Henry, pass me the juice jug."

Anthony stretched out his arm and handed over the juice jug that had been kicked by the dwarf next to the mutton chops.

Professor Sprout joked quietly as he took the juice jug: "You look serious, Henry. Is there anything special about today's roasted mushrooms?"

"It's got gold dust on it," Anthony said.

Professor Sprout smiled, and then comforted: "It's okay, Henry, almost all professors have encountered this kind of thing."

"In front of the entire school during dinner?" Anthony also asked in a lowered voice.

"Well..." Professor Sprout recalled for a while, "No."

"Thank you, Pomona," Anthony said.

Just then the meal was over; the lamb chops, fried fish fillets, roasted mushrooms, boiled peas, mashed potatoes and stew had all disappeared, and cakes, jam tarts and frosted biscuits appeared on the plates.

"Today is a special situation, and you seem quite calm." Professor Sprout tried to comfort him, "Really. Besides, I just heard Gilderoy say that he has received ninety-three letters. And Compared to this-"

While he was talking, another owl flew in and dropped a pink envelope in front of Lockhart.

"Ninety-four," said Anthony.

Unfortunately, Lockhart heard him.

"Actually, it's the two hundred and fifth Valentine's Day card today," said Lockhart indulgently. "Ninety-three of them are from within the school - I don't want to sound like I'm showing off, especially when no one has received any. But, you see, being too famous can sometimes get people into trouble: either being jealous because of their honesty, or falsely denying the love they receive... To be honest, I'm used to it. These are troublesome.

"You have to remember, Henry, that fame is an annoying friend. I'm sure you'll get more than one Valentine's Day card in the future - certainly not as many as two hundred - so if you'll listen to me As for my advice, as someone who has been through it, I have to tell you that you don’t need to envy me, but you must not be proud and complacent just because of a greeting card..."

Anthony tried to interrupt: "I'd rather you never bring it up again."

"Oh, Henry, there's no need to be so secretive!" Lockhart's voice was even louder, "If you knew how many letters from readers I need to reply to every day! It's just a Valentine's Day card, you don't need to Being so defensive about me..."

Professor McGonagall interjected: "Henry?" She had finished her glass of sparkling pumpkin juice and seemed ready to leave gracefully.

"What's the matter, Minerva?" asked Anthony.

"As we said this morning, for career counseling, I also need to collect the Muggle Studies scores of fifth-year students." Professor McGonagall said in a calm tone, "I assume you have prepared this information?"

Anthony was absolutely certain they hadn't broached the subject this morning. He stood up immediately: "Of course, Minerva, thank you for reminding me. I'll give you the form right now."

He nodded to Professor Sprout and Lockhart - Lockhart looked between Anthony and Professor McGonagall, Professor Sprout nodded to him knowingly - and walked around the chair. , walked out of the hall with Professor McGonagall.

"Thank you, Minerva," Anthony whispered.

"You're welcome." Professor McGonagall said. He glanced at the students furtively looking at him with a stern face. He was so frightened that the other student immediately put away the nose-biting tea cup. "As long as you can give me the employment consultation result survey on time." I'll be fine."

Anthony asked: "When?"

"Before Easter," said Professor McGonagall.

"No problem," Anthony said. He hesitated at the top of the stairs - Lockhart lived next door to him, so he was almost certain there would be quite a few students wandering around the corridors. Based on the morning's experience, there's probably a magical item that can recite passionate confessions deafeningly, and Myrtle howling sadly because no one will confess to her. He wasn't sure he wanted to go back to the office now, considering he still had a card in his bag that needed to be addressed.

Professor McGonagall asked: "What's wrong?"

"Do you mind if I go to your office right now and tell you the students' Muggle Studies grades?" Anthony said. "I think I need a quiet place to open the letter."

Professor McGonagall's eyebrows rose: "I'd love to, Henry, but I have somewhere to go before I go back to the office."

"where?"

"Campus Hospital." Professor McGonagall said, "Mr. Potter should be awake by now. I don't think Poppy would mind if you come with me." A smile flashed across her face, "After all, it's pretty good there." Quiet."

Anthony suddenly remembered the story Professor Sprout told him.

"Of course, Minerva, I'll go with you." He said with some disbelief, "I don't know why anyone would want to give Mr. Potter a love potion. He's only in his second year!"

"Oh, no, not a potion," said Professor McGonagall. "Wait, well, it's a potion too. Anyway, Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger told me they were coming back from Hagrid, Potter. Sir, a cauldron flew out of the castle window and hit his head, causing him to faint."

Anthony said, "What?"

"There is still some water of life and death in the crucible." Professor McGonagall said. "Poppy thinks this is why Potter has been unconscious. She suggested that I go check after dinner... maybe Potter saw who threw it. crucible."

(End of this chapter)