OBS Chapter 153 What is Action?
Chapter 153 What is Action?
Chapter 153 What is Action?
If Gilderoy Lockhart has anything commendable besides the Oblivion Curse, it is undoubtedly his drive to act, which matches his vanity.
He not only dared to think, but also dared to act, and he always managed to put his absurd ideas into practice with astonishing efficiency.
The plan to use Lynch to get out of trouble had just taken shape in his mind when, almost the next second, he was already in action.
He quickly selected the most lavish gift box, stuffed his entire set of deluxe editions inside, and tied it with an extravagant gold ribbon—he even gave himself an encouraging smile at his gilded portrait on the box, muttering to himself, "Don't worry, old friend, we always manage to turn bad luck into good."
It was as if the portrait could truly respond to him.
He specially changed into the dragon-skin travel cloak with dark silver trim, repeatedly adjusting it in front of the mirror to the most heroic angle, ensuring that the third-class medal of the Order of Merlin on his chest was in the perfect position, before picking up the gift box and setting off with an attitude almost like heading to the battlefield—although his "battlefield" was just the stone path leading to the edge of the Forbidden Forest.
Following the bits and pieces of information he had heard over the years, Lockhart left the castle and walked calmly across the wide open space, but his pace slowed down more and more each time.
Finally, he reached the entrance to the stone path at the edge of the Forbidden Forest, a path that seemed to divide two worlds.
The cold air was filled with the scent of earth and decaying leaves. The straight, gray-white stone path pierced mercilessly into the depths of the forbidden forest shrouded in a thin mist, disappearing into the dense, malevolent shadows at its end.
Lockhart stopped abruptly, his Adam's apple bobbing involuntarily. He took a deep breath of the cold air, trying to suppress the turmoil in his heart, and reassured himself in an almost hypnotic tone: "A road—it's just a road, it's safe. How could Dumbledore allow a dangerous road to exist? It's no big deal—"
He muttered to himself, but when he actually stepped onto the cold stone surface, he immediately drew his wand and gripped it tightly, his knuckles turning white from the force, as if this small wooden stick was the only talisman he could hold onto.
Along the way, any faint wolf howl emanating from the depths of the Forbidden Forest, the occasional snapping of a dry branch underfoot, or the sudden flapping of wings overhead would send a shiver down his spine like a startled cat. He would abruptly raise his wand toward the source of the sound, his heart pounding wildly. His palms, gripping the wand tightly, were already drenched in cold sweat, so slippery that he could barely hold it.
He would look back suspiciously every few steps, always feeling that something in the dark bushes behind him—perhaps an eight-eyed giant spider, or something even more terrifying—was watching him with cold eyes.
For several moments, intense regret gripped his heart like cold vines, making him almost want to turn and run. Was it really worth risking his life for that laughable, rapidly crumbling reputation?
But then, the suffocating silence in the office silenced him again—not true silence, but the deathly silence of thousands of his own photos simultaneously ceasing to smile, staring at him with empty, mocking eyes. Compared to the fear of utter disgrace and becoming a laughingstock, this real, dangerous forest before him seemed bearable.
Lockhart, steeling himself, tiptoed across the seemingly endless forest path in a comical manner that clashed sharply with his expensive and glamorous attire.
When the pure white stone house finally pierced through the mist and appeared peacefully at the edge of his vision, he let out a long, silent sigh of relief, only then feeling his cold blood begin to flow again.
In the distance, he saw a small figure in a black tuxedo standing motionless at the end of the stone path, like a statue, seemingly waiting there.
Taking a few more steps closer, Lockhart recognized it as the strange house-elf who served Professor Lynch. Was his name Dots—or Tori?
He could never remember the names of these creatures, but that didn't matter.
Importantly, the appearance of this little elf meant that Lynch knew he was coming.
Or is it just a coincidence?
When Thors saw Lockhart arrive, he did not show panic or excessive respect like the other house-elves at Hogwarts. He simply watched him approach calmly with his unusually large, tennis ball-sized eyes before bowing slightly and giving a perfect but not at all humble gesture.
"Mr. Lockhart," Totz's voice was calm and steady, slightly higher in pitch but clear, "Mr. Lynch specifically asked me to wait here."
These words made Lockhart's heart skip a beat.
Lin Qi already knew I was coming? I clearly only decided to come at the last minute... ::
This Professor Lynch was far more bizarre than he had imagined.
But now there's no turning back.
Lockhart quickly suppressed the unease that was rising in his heart and forced himself to bring his attention back to the present.
He immediately stopped and took the opportunity to tidy up his slightly disheveled appearance, which had become somewhat messy from his previous nervous journey. He straightened his back, which had been hunched over, whether from the cold or fear, and vigorously brushed away non-existent dust and fallen leaves from his travel cloak, as if trying to wipe away all the wolves and foxes he had encountered along the way.
The next second, that signature, radiant smile that seemed to dispel the fog of the Forbidden Forest returned to his face, and even the Order of Merlin, First Class, reflected a dazzling light on his chest under his deliberate adjustment.
"Ah! That's wonderful!" Lockhart exclaimed in his most captivating voice. "Then please take me to Professor Lynch immediately. I have a very important gift concerning the inheritance of magical culture that I wish to present to him personally!"
Totz didn't say anything more, just nodded slightly again, then turned around and pushed open the heavy wooden door with his slender fingers.
"Dear Professor Lynch!" Almost the instant the door opened, Lockhart enthusiastically squeezed in, his voice booming almost exaggeratedly, as if trying to completely dispel all the fear and doubt that had accumulated on the way here. "Please forgive a colleague for such an intrusive visit! But I simply cannot tolerate it—another outstanding figure at Hogwarts doesn't even own a complete collection of Gilderoy Lockhart's works! This is a double loss to both the literary and magical worlds! I absolutely cannot allow this to happen. Look, I've personally delivered them to you, each one with a handwritten signature and a blessing bespoke to you!"
Like a seasoned stage actor, he magically produced the exquisitely bound book set wrapped in a gold gift box from behind him.