[{"data":1,"prerenderedAt":-1},["ShallowReactive",2],{"origin-hogwarts-don-t-call-me-a-wandmaker":3,"chapter-hogwarts-don-t-call-me-a-wandmaker-hogwarts-don-t-call-me-a-wandmaker-chapter-111":6},{"origin":4,"title":5},"chinese","Hogwarts: Don't Call Me a Wandmaker",{"chapter":7,"nextChapterSlug":19,"prevChapterSlug":20,"totalChapters":21,"novelImage":22},{"id":8,"novel_id":9,"title":10,"slug":11,"index":12,"content":13,"wordcount":14,"created_at":15,"updated_at":15,"volume":16,"translator":17,"content_hash":18},2292363,4482,"Chapter 111: The Obsessive Lockhart","hogwarts-don-t-call-me-a-wandmaker-chapter-111",111,"\u003Cp>Only after finally shooing away Colin Creevey did Silven get to take his first bite of beef pie.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Silven, did you go to Lockhart’s office?” Ron suddenly leaned over to ask.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“No, why?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Nothing, I just heard Lockhart stood like a specimen in front of his office all morning.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Not a specimen!” Hermione snapped. “Professor Lockhart is just waiting for an important guest.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“He sure is important,” Ron muttered under his breath. “Everyone says he looks like a peacock.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“That’s formal robes!” Hermione said. “Only worn on special occasions—and it’s the greatest respect you can show a guest.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Silven cut another piece of pie. He thought he knew who Lockhart was waiting for—almost certainly Rita Skeeter.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>That also meant the person who tipped off the Daily Prophet was Lockhart himself—he simply couldn’t resist the lure of front-page fame.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But why had Rita Skeeter approached him first?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He was just a wandmaker who played with wood and magical creatures (as Rita Skeeter had described Garrick).\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He wasn’t completely unknown, but his only real fame was breaking into dorms twice—barely a topic among students, nothing compared to Lockhart.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>So why had Rita Skeeter deliberately blocked him on the second-floor corridor, as if she’d known he’d come out of the library?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Tom Riddle?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A name surfaced unconsciously in Silven’s mind, deepening his suspicion of Lockhart.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But if Lockhart was behind this, why was he waiting outside his office?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Silven sighed. Good wand cores were rare, but Tom Riddle’s constant meddling was exhausting.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>And many things he still didn’t know were Riddle’s doing—making him even more frustrated.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Silven couldn’t help blaming Dumbledore—how long had it been? Couldn’t he even find a student holding a diary?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>If all else failed, he’d just tell Harry.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>With Harry’s wit and courage, he’d surely break through every obstacle and find the basilisk and the diary.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Hmm, better not… Silven suddenly remembered Harry’s drowsy, half-asleep expression.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He already felt guilty pushing Colin Creevey onto Harry—this dangerous business with the Chamber and the basilisk? Better keep him out of it for now.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Wait a bit longer. And maybe it wasn’t Tom Riddle at all—he couldn’t possibly know Silven. Perhaps the note was just a special kind of magic.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Like, whoever read it first would automatically see a line designed to frighten them.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Such magic existed in many places at Hogwarts.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>…\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Though he thought this, after lunch Silven still found an excuse to visit Lockhart’s office.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Just as Ron said, Lockhart today looked exactly like a peacock.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>His forget-me-not-blue formal robes were embroidered with intricate patterns, forming a giant “GL”—his initials.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>White cuffs featured elaborate ruffles, each adorned with a brilliant amethyst, paired with a golden lace collar… Silven didn’t understand this design—maybe it was just the current trend.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>He hadn’t been to a proper clothing shop in ages… aside from buying his school uniform.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Oh—it’s Silven.” Lockhart’s face flickered with disappointment, then vanished, replaced by an overly warm smile. “Here for another autograph? You’re the greediest student I’ve ever met—but no matter. Who could refuse a little special treatment for a devoted admirer?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>As he spoke, Lockhart pulled out a massive peacock-feather quill.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“It’s not a book this time, Professor,” Silven forced himself not to show his distaste for the peacock feather.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The thing was hideous—more garish than a Quick-Quotes Quill, absurdly expensive. He doubted anyone but Lockhart would buy it.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“I need to borrow three books, but they’re in the Restricted Section,” Silven placed a parchment on the desk. “So I need a professor’s signature.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Lockhart glanced down.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Talking Books: Advanced Curse Guide,” “Singing Silverware and Talking Diaries,” “Dangerous Human Transfiguration.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“You’re too young for this sort of thing,” Lockhart’s hand paused slightly, his eyes locking on the word “Curse.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Why not ask Minerva?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“I think you understand curses better than Professor McGonagall,” Silven watched his expression. “In ‘Breaking Up with a Ghost,’ you used ginger root powder to break the curse of the Warrington Ghost.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Ah, yes—that’s right. ‘Breaking Up with a Ghost’ is probably my favorite book,” Lockhart beamed and signed the parchment with a sweeping stroke.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“I must warn you—don’t even think of doing anything wicked.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Of course, Professor,” Silven said.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Outside the office, he casually tore off the top two names on the parchment.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Those two books were made up—he’d invented them. The Restricted Section didn’t have them.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Yet he still saw no sign of deception on Lockhart’s face. Maybe he was just imagining things.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Silven entered the library and handed the remaining parchment to Mrs. Pince.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“‘Dangerous Human Transfiguration’?” She eyed him suspiciously, then stared harder at the ornate script of the signature. After a long pause, she said:\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Transfiguration again? Wait here.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The signature had passed.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The transfiguration journals Silven had been reading mentioned this book repeatedly—and everyone’s opinion was strangely uniform.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Though clearly labeled a highly dangerous magical text, the human transfiguration techniques it described were simply too compelling to ignore.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>In other words, it was widely accepted by the academic community—at least in the field of human transfiguration.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Silven had always wanted to read it, but McGonagall refused—this time, Lockhart had conveniently helped him get it.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Minutes later, Silven left the library with a thick book in a red cover.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>When he returned to the common room, Ron was struggling with his homework as usual.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Still eight inches short? I calculated it perfectly!”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Then write bigger,” Harry said.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“It’s already as big as Neville’s.” Ron sighed.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Harry?” Silven was surprised—he saw Harry idling in the common room!\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Had Oliver Wood finally been dragged off by Dementors for abusing his team?\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“We have a match tomorrow,” Harry explained. “Oliver gave us a day off—said it’s necessary pre-game relaxation. I slept until seven for the first time in days.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Silven detected genuine happiness in his voice—just because he could sleep until seven… while Ron wouldn’t get out of bed before eight-thirty.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>That was only because the castle stairs wasted time—if not, he’d sleep another twenty minutes.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Clearly, Dementors should’ve taken Oliver Wood—he’d clearly gone mad over Quidditch.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Just like Lockhart with front-page headlines.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“But you don’t look relaxed at all,” Silven sat down beside him.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Harry’s face was scrunched, his body tense—he seemed to be working with Ron, but his parchment was blank.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>As for Ron’s… better not look. His Potions essay clearly treated Snape as less than human—he might even get fewer marks for turning in a blank parchment.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Is tomorrow’s opponent strong?” Silven asked casually.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Slytherin,” Harry said gloomily. “They’re average, but they’ve got seven Firebolt 2001s. We won’t stand a chance.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“I told you—you should’ve replaced your broomstick handle with a giant wand,” Silven tempted. “Want to try? Give me one night—I’ll give you a brand-new Firebolt 2000.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“N-no thanks,” Harry laughed nervously, declining.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Even setting aside whether a “wand-broom” met match regulations, Harry couldn’t be sure the broom would even fly after turning the handle into a wand.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But in Silven’s opinion, that didn’t matter.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The Quidditch rules only forbade players from using wands during the match—they never said you couldn’t turn the broom into a wand… no, that wouldn’t even be called a wand anymore.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>A magical broom casting spells? That made perfect sense.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Seeing Silven still wanted to argue, Harry quickly changed the subject. “What’s that you’re holding?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Oh, just borrowed a book from the library,” Silven said. “Want to read it?”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“No thanks,” Harry shook his head quickly.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Pity,” Silven said. “You’d never get this one normally—it needs a professor’s signature.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Harry didn’t care—he was already struggling to finish his homework on time; he had no energy for books outside class.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Will you come watch the match tomorrow?” Harry asked. “Last year, you were the only one from Gryffindor who didn’t show up.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>“Who says that? I was there,” Silven countered. “I remember you caught the Golden Snitch in five minutes.”\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Silven had never been interested in Quidditch. After watching last year’s match, he found it dull.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>But this year, he’d definitely go.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Most wizards loved Quidditch—especially the first match of the new term. Nearly every student and professor would be at the pitch.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>Then the whole castle would be empty—and Silven thought that was unsafe.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>The chance was small, but what if the basilisk came out again? He couldn’t keep turning to stone—another Petrifying Curse would shatter him for good.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>So staying with the crowd was definitely safer.\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>…\u003C\u002Fp>\n\u003Cp>(End of Chapter)\u003C\u002Fp>",1398,"2026-06-20T04:03:11.805Z",1,"Qwen3-Next 80B","2418b7efe803193a845e7531f42abfd8ad464a543b47ac3b8c2deb5bb4afa059","hogwarts-don-t-call-me-a-wandmaker-chapter-112","hogwarts-don-t-call-me-a-wandmaker-chapter-110",149,"https:\u002F\u002Fnovelzhen.com\u002Fimages\u002Fcovers\u002Fhogwarts-don-t-call-me-a-wandmaker-cover.jpg"]