(Carrow, is there really no more blood?)
Looking closely at the handwriting emerging on the diary, the saturation of the ink seemed slightly fainter than before.
Lord Voldemort: This kid named Carrow is acting more and more suspicious!
The life energy supplied each time is decreasing, from that first small half-bottle of magic-filled wizard blood to just a few drops of ordinary animal blood later on. This time, he only smeared a nearly invisible streak!
Is he truly helping me, or is he using this method to test my bottom line and study the diary's operating mechanism?
(There really isn't any more, Tom,) Lynn wrote, his lines filled with "sincerity."
(Life force and blood are really hard to find.
The Castle is strictly managed, and the Forbidden Forest is too dangerous. Last time, just to get you that bit of spider blood, I was almost turned into dinner by an Acromantula.)
Lynn: This broken book is definitely lying to me!
If it were a simple energy supplement, why is it that even though the amount I give is less every time, the word count and frequency of its replies are about the same as when it was first well-fed?
This energy utilization efficiency is just too ridiculous!
It's demanding life force for an absolutely ulterior motive, most likely to repair or strengthen the consciousness inside it!
Wanting to use me as a power bank and a sucker? Not a chance!
(If it really won't work...) The handwriting on the diary paused for a moment, as if making a certain decision, before slowly appearing, (Your blood... is also acceptable. Only a very small amount is needed; perhaps it could sustain me longer and help you better.)
Lord Voldemort couldn't take it anymore!
He felt he couldn't let himself be led by the nose like this anymore! He had to directly demand the host's life energy; this was the fastest way to establish a connection and exert influence!
Several times he had tried to indirectly ask about the outside world and the current state of Hogwarts, but he had been brushed off with all sorts of stupid excuses.
This 'Carrow' was either hopelessly stupid or terrifyingly shrewd!
(Tom, I appreciate your kindness... I'll think of other ways instead.)
After Lynn finished writing, he snapped the diary shut without mercy and even casually applied a simple Binding Curse.
Want my life force? Dream on! Fooling you with the blood of Dark Wizards and magical creatures is enough; you still want to scheme against me?
Lord Voldemort let out a silent roar before being swallowed by darkness:
Carrow! You cunning, stingy bastard! Once I gain enough energy, once I'm resurrected, I'll make sure you taste all the pain in the world!
Watching Lynn once again decisively end his "friendly" exchange with "Tom," William, who had been observing the whole process, couldn't help but ask:
"How's the research going? What exactly does this creepy thing want?"
Lynn casually stuffed the diary into a drawer.
"I can't get anything core out of it.
To put it bluntly, the two of us are currently deceiving each other. It's pretending to be a harmless 'memory projection' to trick me out of energy, and I'm pretending to be a naive freshman to play along, seeing who gives in first or who fools whom first.
As it stands, it's the one in a hurry."
"Then stop the deception for a bit," Edgar chimed in. "Have you heard? Our 'great author' Professor Lockhart is back! Supposedly looking healthy, with a smile as bright as ever!"
Lynn raised an eyebrow and did a quick calculation. "Well, judging by the time, it's about right."
"How about it?" Edgar nudged Lynn with his elbow, winking. "Find an opportunity to 'consult' him again?"
Lynn shook his head. "Forget it. In such a short time, doing it over and over again—making him turn into a 'Jet Warrior' in public every single time—even if Lockhart himself is dim-witted, Dumbledore and Madam Pomfrey would notice something's wrong.
Three strikes and you're out; that logic applies everywhere."
Edgar blinked. "So you mean...?"
Lynn gave a meaningful smile and said slowly:
"I mean... after a while, it won't count as 'in a short time' anymore. If he becomes a Jet Warrior again, it'll just be because Lockhart was too careless."
...It was time for the weekly Defense Against the Dark Arts class again.
"Lynn, are you going to Defense Against the Dark Arts today?" William asked as he organized his books, while Lynn was half-heartedly chatting with "Tom."
"I heard Lockhart came back from St. Mungo's this time and seems to have prepared a new teaching method. Maybe... there'll be some improvement?" William's tone carried a hint of unrealistic hope.
"You actually still have a shred of fantasy about Lockhart?!" Lynn looked up in surprise and asked back. "His 'new teaching method'? I bet it's either having us write biographies for him or acting out scenes from his books."
"That may be true..." William pushed up his glasses. "But skipping class isn't good after all. What if he takes attendance?"
"Then you guys go," Lynn shrugged indifferently. "I have an appointment today."
"An appointment?!" Edgar and William's ears perked up instantly, and they leaned in together, their faces full of gossip. "Which upperclassman (or underclassman)?"
Lynn: "..." He rolled his eyes at his two roommates, speechless.
"It's Fred and George!
They wrote to me yesterday saying several key parts of that car have been unstable. They've fixed it a few times but haven't completely sorted it out, so they want me, the 'Alchemy Master,' to go take a look.
Anyway, it's Lockhart's class today. Skipping it is just skipping it. It's a good time to go study that car."
In reality, Lynn left one thing unsaid: he was the one who had completely broken the car in the first place.
"Alright..."
...The Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom.
As soon as they entered, the three found that the classroom's decoration style had reverted to that flashy manner from before.
Portraits of Lockhart in various poses were hung all over the walls again, with the oversized picture-in-a-picture in the center still being the flashiest.
Lockhart stood on the podium, his face full of excitement.
"Young ladies and gentlemen!"
He spread his arms, his voice booming. "Today, I—Gilderoy Lockhart, Order of Merlin, Third Class recipient... blah blah... your experienced Defense Against the Dark Arts tutor—will discard the obsolete textbook teaching model and bring you an epoch-making, immersive, and unprecedented new way of lecturing!"
Without waiting for any reaction from the students below, he continued his speech on his own:
"Please turn your textbooks, Holidays with Hags, to page one hundred and twenty-seven!
Today, theoretical knowledge will take a back seat, and practice and experience will become the protagonists!
I will invite you—yes, every single one of you present—to act as my 'teaching assistants' and personally participate in the memories of my great adventures!"
He rambled on for a long time, the core message being that he was too lazy to lecture and planned to directly select "exciting" fragments from the book, let the students play the roles inside, while he himself would magnificently portray the heroic protagonist, calling it "experiencing courage and wisdom firsthand."
"So, I need an outstanding student to cooperate with me!"
Lockhart's gaze swept across the classroom, finally settling precisely on Edgar, who was trying his best to lower his presence.
Lockhart extended a finger and pointed straight at Edgar:
"You! This... student with light brown hair! Yes, you! Please come to the front. You will have the honor of serving as the 'Chief Teaching Assistant' for this class, playing the part of that... um, Hag I encountered!"
Edgar: "!!!"
He felt as if he had been struck by a bolt of lightning.
Looking at Lockhart's expectant eyes and the gloating gazes from the surrounding students, Edgar let out a howl of despair in his heart:
Merlin's see-through gauze skirt! If I had known today would be like this, I would have let Snape dock fifty points just to go fix the car with Lynn!
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