The person is at Hogwarts, but the system is in Middle-earth!

In the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, Gryffindor and Slytherin students were gradually taking their seats. Everyone was eagerly anticipating the new professor's first lesson.

However, in the last row of the classroom, an incongruous figure stood there, holding an abandoned pointer, carefully checking whether the window latches were secure.

Loewy shouldn't be here. Today is a regular Gryffindor and Slytherin class, and he's a Hufflepuff student.

"Damn Snape..." Rowe cursed under his breath, banging on the wall to make sure there was no hidden compartment. "Just because I reclassified his toad specimens according to the 'Middle-earth Biographies,' he punished me by making me miss Hufflepuff lessons and forcing me to come here for make-up classes."

"And with this bunch of... future Death Eater trainees." He glanced at the Slytherin students who were talking and laughing loudly on the other side, especially Draco Malfoy, who was pointing at Harry with a mocking smile on his face.

[System Environment Analysis: Encirclement by Hostile Forces]

[Source of the threat: Slytherin (descendants of serpents)]

[Friendly Status: Harry Potter (Ringer, on edge), Ron Weasley (Squire, poorly equipped)]

[Suggested tactics: Keep a low profile and occupy high ground or escape routes]

"Hey, Rowe! Over here!" Harry waved to him, pointing to the empty seat next to him. "I didn't expect you to come, this is great."

Rowe sighed, checked the escape route one last time, and then strode over to sit down next to Harry. He placed the thick book, *Sailing with the Vampires*, on the table.

"Don't get too excited, Harry."

"I have a feeling this lesson will be just as dangerous as traversing a dark, dense forest. Especially when we have to face that 'peacock'."

"A peacock?" Ron scratched his head in confusion. "Who are you talking about?"

"That guy who prints his face on every book cover," Rowe pointed to the huge portrait of Lockhart on the podium, where Lockhart was winking at the class. "In Middle-earth, true heroes, like Gandalf or Aragorn, never need to print their deeds on paper and hawk them. Only charlatans trying to cover up the truth do that. True glory is etched on the bones of enemies, not on parchment."

"Shh!" Hermione glared at them. Before her lay Lockhart's entire collection of works, each with a pristine cover. "He did it to share his experience! That's called writing books! And he was truly remarkable; look at what he did... he even tried to exorcise the ghost of Wren, but..."

Just then, the classroom door opened. Gilderoy Lockhart strode in, his long robes billowing, wearing his signature forget-me-not blue tie, and sporting a wide, eight-toothed smile.

[Warning: High-level charm spell fluctuation detected]

[Target: Gilderoy Lockhart]

[Race Determination: Eloquent]

Threat Level: Physical (Low) / Mental Pollution (Extremely High)

[Special Aura: [Radiance of the Vanity] (Inflicts a mental reduction effect on targets with a willpower below 10)]

Lowe's pupils contracted. Under the system's filter, Lockhart's radiant smile distorted into a hypocritical, heavily made-up mask, much like the treacherous minister Grimald who whispered in King Theodon's ear.

“Me,” Lockhart pointed to his photograph, winking, “Giddro Lockhart, Order of Merlin, Third Class, Honorary Member of the League Against the Dark Arts, five-time winner of the Wizarding Weekly’s Most Charming Smile Award—but I won’t wear that on my sleeve. I don’t exorcise the Wraith of Wren with a smile!”

He waited for laughter, but only a few people laughed sporadically.

"I see you've all bought my complete works. Great! Today, let's do a little quiz to see how well you've read them."

Lockhart handed out a stack of papers.

He glanced at the question, his brows furrowing deeply.

1. What is Gilderoy Lockhart's favorite color?

2. What is Gilderoy Lockhart's secret ambition?

3. What do you think is Gilderoy Lockhart's greatest achievement to date?

...

54. What is Gilderoy Lockhart's birthday? What would be his ideal gift?

"What is this?" Rowe exclaimed incredulously. "This isn't a magic test; it's some kind of mental obedience test! This smooth talker is filtering out easily brainwashed believers! He's trying to fill our minds with this useless junk information, making us forget real combat skills!"

He angrily picked up the quill pen and quickly wrote the answer on the paper:

1. The camouflage of a fraudster (probably some kind of disgusting pink, used to cover up the rot in his heart).

2. Like Saruman, undermine the will of the free people from within and establish an empire composed of puppets who can only laugh foolishly.

3. Successfully convincing so many people of his lies and spreading this spiritual pollution throughout the entire magical world is simply the pinnacle of black magic.

Half an hour later, Lockhart put away the test paper and flipped through it. "Tsk tsk, almost no one remembers that my favorite color is lilac... except for Miss Hermione Granger! Full marks! Ten extra points for Gryffindor!"

When he flipped to Lowe's paper, his smile froze for a moment, and his eye twitched slightly. But he quickly masked it, tucking it to the bottom and pretending not to see the sharp comments. "Some students have... very rich imaginations, perhaps influenced by too many chivalric romance novels. Anyway, back to the point."

Lockhart bent down and lifted a large, covered cage from behind the podium, placing it on the table. The cage slammed heavily onto the table with an unsettling thud.

"Now—we are about to face one of the most terrifying creatures in the magical world!" He lowered his voice mysteriously. "You may scream in fright, but I ask you to remain calm."

He yanked off the cover.

"Just caught a Cornish elf!"

Most of the class burst out laughing. Inside the cage were a group of small, bluish-gray creatures, about eight inches tall, squeaking and making all sorts of funny faces.

"What's there to be afraid of?" Seamus Finigan laughed so hard he almost fell over. "They don't even look as scary as Rowe over there. I mean, look at Rowe's expression, like he's about to eat them up."

"I wouldn't laugh if it were me!" Lockhart said irritably. "They're devilish little destroyers!"

[WARNING: Abyssal biome detected]

[Target: Moria Goblin Engineer/Abyssal Imp]

Quantity: 20+

[Characteristics: Group combat, venomous claws (possible), explosives carrying (possible), extremely insane]

[Recommendation: Do not allow them to approach any fortifications; carry out physical removal immediately]