Chapter 395

The teachers sitting across from Lockhart all wore grim expressions.

From his seat, Wizard Sean could see a muscle twitching on Professor McGonagall’s cheek; Professor Snape looked as if someone had just forced him to drink a full cup of Skele-Gro.

Only Dumbledore appeared to see nothing at all, smiling pleasantly as ever.

“How’s the plan coming?”

Jia Jia Siting whispered, keeping his voice low enough that only Wizard Sean and Hermione could hear.

“A few days left.”

Hermione looked noticeably worn down; she had barely rested these past days.

“Hermione, I mean, you could take a break sometimes.”

Jia Jia Siting looked at Hermione, then at Wizard Sean, remembering he’d said similar things to more than one friend.

Hermione said nothing, only let out an uncontrollable yawn.

At that moment, Lockhart clapped his hands, drawing everyone’s attention:

“Ladies and gentlemen, happy Valentine’s Day!”

Lockhart declared loudly,

“So far, thirty-six people have sent me greeting cards—I thank them all!

Yes, I took the liberty of arranging this little surprise for you—all and more!”

Lockhart turned toward the Great Hall’s doors, where twelve gloomy little house-elves marched in through the entrances to the entrance hall.

These were no ordinary house-elves—Lockhart had given them golden wings and harps.

“My friendly, card-carrying Cupids!”

Lockhart beamed,

“They’ll be wandering the school today delivering Valentine’s cards! And that’s not all—I’m sure my colleagues are eager to join in! Why not ask Professor Snape to teach you how to brew Amortentia?”

This sparked a burst of laughter.

The Slytherins smirked at Lockhart with condescending pity.

Snape’s expression suggested anyone who asked him about Amortentia would be forced to drink poison.

If Ron and Harry saw Snape like this, they’d run as far as they could.

But Lockhart was undeterred, still prattling on, occasionally glancing at Dumbledore.

Wizard Sean wasn’t interested in Lockhart’s absurd antics, but he was fascinated by his Forgetfulness Charm technique.

That’s why he planned to act with Jia Jia Siting and Hermione.

Under the effect of the Truth Potion, Wizard Sean didn’t need to distinguish which of the Forgetfulness Charm master’s words were exaggerated and which were true.

“Well, actually,”

Hermione spoke wearily, with cautious restraint,

“Last month, when the potion hadn’t even been preliminarily brewed, I needed some Silence Birds’ feathers—and those are only available in Professor Snape’s private storage room…”

This drew Wizard Sean’s attention.

“Then, at the end of the last Potions class before Christmas, I accidentally glimpsed a Silence Bird feather placed on the frontmost shelf in the dungeon… That’s a rare magical material.

Wizard Sean, you’re often in the dungeon—did you help?”

Hermione asked softly.

“No.”

Wizard Sean denied it.

But he recalled Snape’s request before Christmas—to use magic to organize all bird feather materials onto the frontmost shelf.

It seemed… Professor Snape understood Lockhart better than anyone realized…

“Later, when we tried to replace it…”

Jia Jia Siting took over.

“The feather had been replenished.”

Hermione fell into thought.

“Don’t worry.”

Wizard Sean murmured; he understood now.

The professors clearly despised Lockhart… deeply.

As they spoke, Lockhart’s voice swept through like a draft:

“If you’re interested, Professor Flitwick is more skilled in Illusion Magic than any wizard I’ve ever seen—this sneaky fellow!”

Professor Flitwick immediately buried his face in his hands.

Every Ravenclaw student frowned.

And so, this “special” Valentine’s Day began.

All day long, the house-elves kept bursting into classrooms, delivering Valentine’s cards, driving the teachers to utter exhaustion.

In the afternoon, as Gryffindor and Ravenclaw students ascended to their Charms class, a house-elf suddenly caught up to Wizard Sean.

“Oh, Mr. Wizard Sean Green! Please stop!”

A house-elf whose expression brightened like a clearing sky called out, elbowing through the crowd to push toward Wizard Sean.

Wizard Sean tapped his wand—and vanished.

The house-elf paused, then turned and rushed toward Harry, who was watching the commotion.

Harry had no idea what was coming; he was still stifling laughter, searching the crowd for the invisible Wizard Sean.

“Hey, you! Yes, you! Harry Potter!”

The house-elf’s expression darkened again as it reached Harry’s side.

“This is going to be…”

Harry froze.

Receiving a Valentine’s card in front of a group of first-years was utterly humiliating.

Harry finally remembered to run.

But before he took two steps, the house-elf kicked past legs and shoved through the crowd to catch him.

“I have a musical message to deliver personally to Harry Potter.”

The house-elf said, striking the harp with aggressive determination.

“Not here,”

Harry whispered, trying again to flee.

“Stand still!”

The house-elf grumbled, grabbing Harry’s bag and yanking him back.

“Let me go!”

Harry shouted, tugging hard on the bag.

With a loud rip, his bag split in two.

His books, wand, parchment, and quills clattered to the floor; the ink bottle shattered on top.

Harry scrambled to gather the scattered items, desperate to retrieve them before the house-elf began singing, causing a corridor traffic jam.

“Harry doesn’t look good.”

Jia Jia Siting muttered to the air.

“Should we help?”

The air replied.

“Did he forget he’s a wizard? Picking things up by hand won’t be fast enough.”

Hermione slapped her forehead.

Harry was completely panicked, desperate to escape—but the house-elf wrapped its arms around both his knees, sending him crashing to the ground.

“Alright,”

the house-elf said, plopping down on Harry’s knees,

“Here’s your musical Valentine’s gift:

His eyes are green as pickled toads,

His hair is black as a chalkboard, sleek and bold,

I wish he were mine,

He’s so handsome,

He’s the hero who defeated the Dark Lord—”

The house-elf’s voice was as shrill as a banshee’s wail.

Hermione pressed her lips to suppress a grin; Jia Jia Siting beside her was laughing so hard he could barely breathe.