Chinese students at Hogwarts

Zhang Xiao once again came to the familiar mysterious realm, as if using a third-person perspective, calmly watching everything happening around him.

Time slowed down and the surrounding situation became extremely clear.

Everything within a ten-meter radius was vividly visible, even Professor Flitwick's beard swaying in the breeze and the flickering candlelight.

It seems that he can do anything if he wants to.

However, Zhang Xiao, who was in a purely rational state, was not confused by this false feeling. This was just an illusion caused by the sudden increase in power.

It's just this feeling - it didn't seem like this when I entered the Kongming Realm before?

Slowly raising the wand, Zhang Xiao could even feel the trembling vibrations of the wand. It was excitement, the desire to fight, and to vent his power without reservation.

Skills are important, but when the strength reaches a certain level, one strength can defeat ten!

The wand's trembling became louder and louder, and a dazzling blue electric light spurted out from the wand with a sharp and piercing cry.

Flitwick stood ready, and although he felt a little incredible, he did feel a sense of threat from Zhang.

Zhang Xiao shook his wand slightly, and at this moment a strange feeling surged up from every corner of his body.

He lowered his head and looked at his body strangely.

Start analyzing very calmly.

Excessive consumption, the body is close to the limit, the superimposed consumption of the golden light spell and the empty mirror has reached a terrifying level.

I was about to collapse, about 3 seconds away.

3, 2, 1!

Zhang Xiao's body suddenly froze, and under everyone's expectant gazes, he trembled violently, and the alluring golden light dissipated.

The whole person was like a log, falling straight backwards.

Flitwick was stunned for a moment and immediately waved his wand to catch him.

The little wizards around them burst into deafening shouts, and everyone was squeezing forward desperately to see what was going on.

Snape and McGonagall tried hard to maintain order, although they also wanted to go over and see what was going on.

Lockhart hesitated to step forward and cast his 'very good' healing spell.

Only Madam Pomfrey in the corner sighed as if she had expected it, lifted up the medicine box, separated from the crowd and squeezed in.

I knew it!

In the school infirmary, Snape and Madam Pomfrey bent down to examine Zhang Xiao in detail on the hospital bed. Lockhart stood in the crowd and said with a regretful expression:

"It's a pity that I'm still a step too late. I've long discovered that something is wrong with Zhang - as long as I use magic, I can stop him!"

The professors around him looked at him with strange eyes.

Professor McGonagall glanced at him with some disgust and said softly:

"Can you please shut up? Professor Lockhart, what we need now is silence!"

Lockhart's exaggerated smile froze on his face. He touched his curly hair and shrank back. The expression on his face suddenly became a little strange, and he didn't know what he was thinking.

Dumbledore stood at the end of the bed, his blue eyes seeming to shine through his half-moon lenses.

Snape and Pomfrey straightened up and seemed to have come to a conclusion:

"It's nothing serious, just too tired." Madam Pomfrey frowned: "He always seems to make himself like this, how many times has this happened?"

Snape did not speak, but took out another bottle of weakened life and death water. He felt that he had brewed more weakened life and death water this year than in ten years.

Dumbledore looked away and nodded:

"Leave this to Madam Pomfrey, she can always take good care of the little wizards."

In Lockhart's office, the portraits were doing their own thing leisurely. Some of them had hair curlers on their heads, and some were wearing pajamas and holding their own works, sipping coffee and admiring their works. .

Others keep practicing smiling.

"Bang" The door to the office was suddenly pushed open with force. Lockhart's expression was distorted, he murmured something in a low voice and cursed, and strode in.

The portraits were startled. The one holding the coffee spilled the coffee directly on the silk pajamas. He stood up angrily and walked to the edge of the picture frame, pointed at Lockhart and shouted loudly.

Lockhart kicked the gilt velvet high-backed chair. The pain caused him to scream, and he squatted down and rubbed his feet desperately.

Now the portraits couldn't help it, and stood up one after another, stretching their necks, as if wondering what on earth had made him so angry.

Lockhart stood up, looked at his portrait, his eyes flashed with evil light, and murmured softly:

"You forced me to do this, right?"

The portraits nodded - in fact, they had no idea what Lockhart was talking about.

Lockhart's expression became more and more distorted, and he whispered: "I don't want to, I don't want to either. But even though I have achieved such great achievements, and I even obtained the badge of Sir Merlin, you still look down on me.

I don’t want to”

He walked to his desk, opened the drawer, and took out a thick book wrapped in purple cover.

I don’t know where this notebook came from. It might have been a gift from a fan.

Found it when I was packing my luggage.

At first glance, Lockhart felt that this notepad was very tasteful—high-grade genuine leather cover, soft paper, it looked a little worn, but it was full of a sense of age.

Lockhart couldn't put it down and decided to use it as his own signed exercise book and excerpts of letters from outstanding fans, but he didn't like the black color very much.

But this is very easy to solve, just wrap the cover of the notepad with your favorite noble purple book cover.

But the things he wrote would always disappear inexplicably the next day. Lockhart was overjoyed. Is there anything more suitable for a signature book than a notebook that clears its contents on its own?

So he practiced his signature hundreds of times in the autograph book every day, and sometimes he would also write down those beloved words of admiration from fans.

Until one day, this notepad answered him.

"Do you want to truly stand at the top of the wizarding world and become a big shot?"

Lockhart took a few deep breaths, ended his memory, spread out his notepad, and wrote on it:

"I want to think about what you said last time."

This line of writing immediately faded and disappeared, and then lines of slightly deformed handwriting appeared, showing the excitement of the person who wrote this line of writing.

"Your wisdom is as outstanding as your appearance! Congratulations, you have chosen the right path. One day, you will definitely stand at the top of the wizarding world, looking down at those incompetent remnants!"

Lockhart smiled happily: "Do you think so too, Tom? After all, I am the winner of the Wizarding Weekly's Most Charming Smile Award."

Tom Riddle in the diary was stunned. He couldn't even believe that the disgusting words of praise above were spoken by himself.

The young Voldemort recalled the day when he was turned over by Lockhart.

That was an unforgettable, gloomy day.

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