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Although he really wanted some peace and quiet, William knew very well that in his current state, it was best to go to the Great Hall and stay with the students.
"William, what's wrong? You look like you've been run over by a dragon."
In the Great Hall, Adams, who had already been seated for a while, was the first to offer William a friendly greeting.
What kind of strange metaphor is that?
William gave Adams an annoyed look, but because he wasn't feeling well, the glare didn't quite land.
"No way, you were really run over by a dragon? I've seen a unicorn in the Forbidden Forest—but are there really dragons in the Forbidden Forest?"
Adams, having misunderstood, exclaimed in surprise.
"So, the greenhouse fertilizer needs to be a bit fresher?"
Singeade's retort was as sharp as ever—that was William's first thought in his weakened state.
"Shut up, Singeade—I'm doing this for your own good. You don't sleep well. I know a few remedies; applying medicinal mud to your face every day will effectively improve the situation."
Adams put on an 'I'm only doing this for your own good' expression, but if his remedy didn't include fresh dragon dung, William would eat the plate in front of him.
"No need. I don't think missing breakfast is anything to regret. As for you, you should prepare for the rainy season in October. It's always a disaster."
There wasn't a single week in October without rain, which wasn't good for the herbs. Professor Sprout was getting older, so there was no doubt who would have to get up in the middle of the night to take care of those precious herbs in the greenhouses.
His own jab having backfired, Adams looked at Singeade with a gloomy expression—we were just joking around, why did you have to twist the knife?
Singeade whistled smugly. This round was his complete victory.
"Eh? Why isn't the food ready yet today? Did Peeves go and cause trouble in the kitchen again?"
Professor Kettleburn watched the bickering pair, smiling as he voiced his question. He'd taken a liking to hanging around with them lately, claiming that the liveliness of the young people made him feel much more comfortable, but William seriously suspected he was just trying to avoid Professor McGonagall.
"Causing trouble? I don't think so. He usually pulls his pranks in the lavatories on rainy days."
So you've all figured out his pattern?
However, William suddenly remembered a possibility—this morning, hadn't Professor Lockhart placed a huge order for candy with the house-elves?
Before he could voice this hypothesis, a large pile of candy suddenly appeared on the previously empty plates.
That's right, the same kind William had eaten this morning.
"I can't believe it—the first thing served for lunch at school is candy."
Singeade stared blankly at the plate for three seconds, then grabbed one.
"It tastes pretty good, Professor William. You try it."
William went along with it. As for Adams, he had already taken one and was staring at the wrapping paper—Lockhart was on it, flashing his pearly white teeth with an incredibly flamboyant smile.
"An excellent idea! If you ask me, you all should have a bit more youthful energy. Don't always go around with a stiff face, trying to be like Minerva."
Professor Kettleburn smiled, offering the young professors some life advice. If he weren't still on his internship this year, William felt his words would have been a bit more persuasive.
"Oh, right, speaking of Minerva, I was just reminded of something from this morning."
Professor Kettleburn patted his head with his remaining hand. "Actually, someone from The Daily Prophet came by, trying to get an exclusive interview about Lockhart's club. Professor McGonagall rejected the reporter's request to visit, but she reluctantly agreed to Professor Lockhart's other activity requests. It's going to be a very lively day today."
The Daily Prophet? It's that big of a deal? Also, Professor, do you know all the gossip in the castle? You're about to retire!
"I couldn't agree more—look over there."
Before William could ask, Professor Singeade had already spotted something. Following his finger, William saw a set of bright pink robes.
Without a doubt, there was one and only one professor in the castle who would wear such flamboyant robes.
Professor Lockhart.
"Everyone, although the weather isn't very friendly, there's no doubt that today is a warm day!"
"Yes, that's right! I, Professor Lockhart, recipient of the Order of Merlin, Third Class, Honorary Member of the Anti-Dark Magic League, and five-time winner of *Witch Weekly's* Most Charming Smile Award, your Defense Against the Dark Arts—alright, your Magical Self-Defense course professor, have made a rather important decision today!"
"That's right—the Lockhart Problem-Solving Club, opening tonight! What are you waiting for?"
William suddenly felt a tug on his arm. It was Singeade.
"It's been going on since this morning. Adams has been obsessed all morning. Earlier, I had to listen to Professor Lockhart prattling on to everyone about the student letters he's received. I just..."
William patted his shoulder, giving him a 'you're on your own' look.
After all, besides being a professor, Professor Lockhart also had the titles of legendary adventurer and best-selling author, so it wasn't a big deal if he liked to show off a bit. For Adams's sake, he figured he should just put up with it. It was just like with William's old roommate during those intense online rivalries; in the end, didn't he choose to compromise? Were they really going to start a fight over it?
However, William quickly found he couldn't stand it anymore—not after Professor Lockhart finished his speech.
A troupe of dwarves in formalwear, carrying musical instruments, walked over. Their terrible singing suddenly made William understand what was even harder to endure than his days in Azkaban: sitting in Azkaban while having to listen to dwarves sing.
'If I were still in prison, I'd definitely have Big Guy beat up this newcomer!'
He thought viciously, and then his whole body felt lighter. Had the aftereffects been dispelled by fighting poison with poison? Or had the time limit on them simply run out?
William closed his eyes and began to recall with all his might.
Thanks to the knowledge he had been cramming recently, he quickly formed a vague hypothesis.
'Is this acknowledging beautiful memories from the past to counteract the mental shock of Dark Magic?'
It was impossible to know for sure. Research into something like Dark Magic was never discussed openly; even wizards who were proficient in it would quietly hide their knowledge.
By the time William opened his eyes again, the terrible torture was finally over.
"I bet Professor Lockhart didn't specify that the dwarves he hired had to be good at singing."
"No, I suspect he didn't pay the final installment for their last job. This is the collection team."
William retorted quickly.
Even Adams, who had been supporting Professor Lockhart all this time, couldn't help but nod—the singing really was that awful.
The professors at the staff table also began to whisper among themselves. It seemed this opening ceremony was indeed a complete failure.
The only exception was Professor Kettleburn, whose expression was now lost in a hazy memory.
"Professor Kettleburn?"
Adams called out softly, wondering if this professor also had a story involving a friend who was a terrible singer.
"It's been so long, I'd forgotten how long it's been since I heard a sound like opera in Hogwarts. The last time I heard it, Albus wasn't even the Headmaster yet!"
(end of chapter)
"William, what's wrong? You look like you've been run over by a dragon."
In the Great Hall, Adams, who had already been seated for a while, was the first to offer William a friendly greeting.
What kind of strange metaphor is that?
William gave Adams an annoyed look, but because he wasn't feeling well, the glare didn't quite land.
"No way, you were really run over by a dragon? I've seen a unicorn in the Forbidden Forest—but are there really dragons in the Forbidden Forest?"
Adams, having misunderstood, exclaimed in surprise.
"So, the greenhouse fertilizer needs to be a bit fresher?"
Singeade's retort was as sharp as ever—that was William's first thought in his weakened state.
"Shut up, Singeade—I'm doing this for your own good. You don't sleep well. I know a few remedies; applying medicinal mud to your face every day will effectively improve the situation."
Adams put on an 'I'm only doing this for your own good' expression, but if his remedy didn't include fresh dragon dung, William would eat the plate in front of him.
"No need. I don't think missing breakfast is anything to regret. As for you, you should prepare for the rainy season in October. It's always a disaster."
There wasn't a single week in October without rain, which wasn't good for the herbs. Professor Sprout was getting older, so there was no doubt who would have to get up in the middle of the night to take care of those precious herbs in the greenhouses.
His own jab having backfired, Adams looked at Singeade with a gloomy expression—we were just joking around, why did you have to twist the knife?
Singeade whistled smugly. This round was his complete victory.
"Eh? Why isn't the food ready yet today? Did Peeves go and cause trouble in the kitchen again?"
Professor Kettleburn watched the bickering pair, smiling as he voiced his question. He'd taken a liking to hanging around with them lately, claiming that the liveliness of the young people made him feel much more comfortable, but William seriously suspected he was just trying to avoid Professor McGonagall.
"Causing trouble? I don't think so. He usually pulls his pranks in the lavatories on rainy days."
So you've all figured out his pattern?
However, William suddenly remembered a possibility—this morning, hadn't Professor Lockhart placed a huge order for candy with the house-elves?
Before he could voice this hypothesis, a large pile of candy suddenly appeared on the previously empty plates.
That's right, the same kind William had eaten this morning.
"I can't believe it—the first thing served for lunch at school is candy."
Singeade stared blankly at the plate for three seconds, then grabbed one.
"It tastes pretty good, Professor William. You try it."
William went along with it. As for Adams, he had already taken one and was staring at the wrapping paper—Lockhart was on it, flashing his pearly white teeth with an incredibly flamboyant smile.
"An excellent idea! If you ask me, you all should have a bit more youthful energy. Don't always go around with a stiff face, trying to be like Minerva."
Professor Kettleburn smiled, offering the young professors some life advice. If he weren't still on his internship this year, William felt his words would have been a bit more persuasive.
"Oh, right, speaking of Minerva, I was just reminded of something from this morning."
Professor Kettleburn patted his head with his remaining hand. "Actually, someone from The Daily Prophet came by, trying to get an exclusive interview about Lockhart's club. Professor McGonagall rejected the reporter's request to visit, but she reluctantly agreed to Professor Lockhart's other activity requests. It's going to be a very lively day today."
The Daily Prophet? It's that big of a deal? Also, Professor, do you know all the gossip in the castle? You're about to retire!
"I couldn't agree more—look over there."
Before William could ask, Professor Singeade had already spotted something. Following his finger, William saw a set of bright pink robes.
Without a doubt, there was one and only one professor in the castle who would wear such flamboyant robes.
Professor Lockhart.
"Everyone, although the weather isn't very friendly, there's no doubt that today is a warm day!"
"Yes, that's right! I, Professor Lockhart, recipient of the Order of Merlin, Third Class, Honorary Member of the Anti-Dark Magic League, and five-time winner of *Witch Weekly's* Most Charming Smile Award, your Defense Against the Dark Arts—alright, your Magical Self-Defense course professor, have made a rather important decision today!"
"That's right—the Lockhart Problem-Solving Club, opening tonight! What are you waiting for?"
William suddenly felt a tug on his arm. It was Singeade.
"It's been going on since this morning. Adams has been obsessed all morning. Earlier, I had to listen to Professor Lockhart prattling on to everyone about the student letters he's received. I just..."
William patted his shoulder, giving him a 'you're on your own' look.
After all, besides being a professor, Professor Lockhart also had the titles of legendary adventurer and best-selling author, so it wasn't a big deal if he liked to show off a bit. For Adams's sake, he figured he should just put up with it. It was just like with William's old roommate during those intense online rivalries; in the end, didn't he choose to compromise? Were they really going to start a fight over it?
However, William quickly found he couldn't stand it anymore—not after Professor Lockhart finished his speech.
A troupe of dwarves in formalwear, carrying musical instruments, walked over. Their terrible singing suddenly made William understand what was even harder to endure than his days in Azkaban: sitting in Azkaban while having to listen to dwarves sing.
'If I were still in prison, I'd definitely have Big Guy beat up this newcomer!'
He thought viciously, and then his whole body felt lighter. Had the aftereffects been dispelled by fighting poison with poison? Or had the time limit on them simply run out?
William closed his eyes and began to recall with all his might.
Thanks to the knowledge he had been cramming recently, he quickly formed a vague hypothesis.
'Is this acknowledging beautiful memories from the past to counteract the mental shock of Dark Magic?'
It was impossible to know for sure. Research into something like Dark Magic was never discussed openly; even wizards who were proficient in it would quietly hide their knowledge.
By the time William opened his eyes again, the terrible torture was finally over.
"I bet Professor Lockhart didn't specify that the dwarves he hired had to be good at singing."
"No, I suspect he didn't pay the final installment for their last job. This is the collection team."
William retorted quickly.
Even Adams, who had been supporting Professor Lockhart all this time, couldn't help but nod—the singing really was that awful.
The professors at the staff table also began to whisper among themselves. It seemed this opening ceremony was indeed a complete failure.
The only exception was Professor Kettleburn, whose expression was now lost in a hazy memory.
"Professor Kettleburn?"
Adams called out softly, wondering if this professor also had a story involving a friend who was a terrible singer.
"It's been so long, I'd forgotten how long it's been since I heard a sound like opera in Hogwarts. The last time I heard it, Albus wasn't even the Headmaster yet!"
(end of chapter)
