Chapter 94: Another Choice
Since Dumbledore had found a joke to serve as Professor, Tamara, as the future prefect of Slytherin and future master of Hogwarts, naturally had a duty to provide this new employee with a profound bit of onboarding training.
Although Tamara kept a smile on her face, the darkness in her gaze made Hermione instinctively uneasy.
The two of them squeezed down the stairs to the first floor.
At that moment, Gilderoy Lockhart had just finished harassing Harry.
The poor saviour's face was flushed, his hair was as messy as a bird's nest, his glasses were hanging from the tip of his nose, and an entire set of The Collected Works of Gilderoy Lockhart had been forcibly shoved into his arms.
"How touching! This is the weight of fame!"
Lockhart sighed as he watched Harry retreat, showing off that signature smile.
Then his gaze swept through the crowd, clearly searching for his next victim, or rather, the next prop to highlight his glorious image.
Just then, his eyes fixed on Tamara, who was walking down the stairs.
A dark grey cloak. A pale, delicate little face. A cold, gloomy air utterly out of place amid the surrounding fanaticism. And those black eyes, so deep they seemed bottomless.
Lockhart's eyes lit up.
This was perfect material.
If he could not turn this gloomy little girl into someone bright and cheerful, how could Gilderoy Lockhart still call himself the most charming wizard alive?
He even had a title ready.
Lockhart and the Lost Girl He Redeemed, A Touching Moment from Darkness to Light.
"Oh! Look who we have here!"
Lockhart strode through the crowd, his blue robes billowing behind him and carrying a suffocating cloud of perfume.
He ignored Hermione beside her and rushed straight toward Tamara.
"This child looks... well, a little too serious, doesn't she?"
Lockhart winked at the surrounding reporters and witches, then reached out without warning, clearly intending to sling an arm around Tamara's shoulder.
"Come along, little girl! Don't look so miserable! Let me bring a little sunshine into your life!"
Tamara looked at the hand reaching toward her, and a flash of violent killing intent flickered deep in her eyes.
[Ding! Sudden Event Triggered: The Professor's Care.]
The system's voice suddenly rang out in her mind.
[Gilderoy Lockhart believes you are a troubled girl lacking confidence and sunshine, and is attempting to display his approachability through a photograph.]
[Option A: Cooperate with his performance, show an admiring and shy smile, and say loudly, "Oh! Professor Lockhart, you are like my sun!" Reward: Lockhart favourability plus 20.]
[Option B: Refuse to cooperate and counterattack. However, please note that as the host of the Virtue System, attacking a Professor in public will be considered a serious violation.]
[Punishment: Request Molly Weasley to take you in for one night in a pitiful and broken voice.]
Tamara looked at that nauseating Option A, and her lips curled into a cruel arc.
Sun?
As if he were worthy.
In that instant, Tamara's fingers tightened sharply inside her sleeve, her nails nearly digging into her palm.
A bone chilling killing intent surged wildly in her chest.
It was an instinct belonging to Lord Voldemort.
With a single thought, with one flash of green light, she could turn this buffoon, who dared to place his filthy hand on her shoulder without knowing his place, into a real corpse.
"Avada..."
The fatal curse was already on the tip of her tongue.
[Warning! Extremely dangerous murderous intent detected!]
The system's red light flashed frantically across her vision.
Tamara took a deep breath.
She looked at the frenzied reporters and the constantly flashing camera. Reason, like a bucket of cold water, forcibly doused that bloodthirsty impulse.
Killing someone here was unwise.
More importantly, it was not worth jeopardising her plan for rebirth over such a clown.
"...Consider yourself lucky," Tamara said coldly in her mind.
The red light in her eyes slowly faded, replaced by an even more venomous calculation.
Since she could not let him die, she would make him wish he had.
For a clown like Lockhart, who valued his reputation more than his life, making a fool of himself in public might be more painful than death.
As for the system's punishment?
Staying one night in that shabby Burrow?
Heh.
Tamara looked at Lockhart's revolting smiling face, and the scales in her heart instantly tipped.
Even if she had to sleep in a pigsty, as long as she could see this idiot fall from the clouds into the mud, it was a bargain.
"Since you want to be the sun..."
Tamara's wand, hidden in her sleeve, shifted its angle slightly, aiming at Lockhart's carefully polished leather boots.
"Then I'll let you taste what it feels like to fall from the sky."
Tamara flicked her wrist with extreme subtlety, the holly wand tracing a silent arc inside her sleeve.
"Locomotor Mortis."
It was not a particularly complex jinx, but under Tamara's meticulous magical control, it produced a startling effect.
Lockhart was just about to strike a dashing pose while turning his face toward the photographer's lens.
Suddenly, his legs snapped together as though bound tightly by invisible wire.
His upper body was still leaning forward with the momentum of his stride, but his lower body had been fixed in place.
And so, under the eyes of dozens of people and the flashing lights of the Daily Prophet photographer, the soon to be Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor fell flat on his face in an extremely comical posture.
Thud!
Lockhart's well maintained face made intimate contact with the dusty wooden floor of Flourish and Blotts.
The entire shop fell silent.
Even the camera flashes stopped for a moment.
Immediately after, the system's voice rang out again.
[Haha... Warning! Malicious attack on a Professor detected! Virtue Code violated: Respect for Teachers!]
[Punishment program initiated: Level Two High Voltage Shock. Duration: 3 seconds.]
A surge of electricity instantly coursed through Tamara's entire body.
The sudden current made her mind go blank for a moment.
But this was exactly what she wanted.
Lockhart clutched his bleeding nose and scrambled up from the floor in a miserable state.
At the moment he had fallen, the corner of his eye seemed to catch a fleeting glimpse of wood from the black haired girl's sleeve.
He pointed at Tamara in a rage and roared, "It was you! You evil little witch attacked me with a jinx! I saw your wand!"
However, by then, Tamara was already trembling uncontrollably under the intense electric shock.
Her face had turned as pale as paper. Cold sweat beaded across her forehead, and her usually cold eyes had become dilated and hazy from the physiological pain, even filling with a thick layer of mist.
She staggered as though terrified by Lockhart's roar, her body slumping weakly against the nearby bookshelf.
"I... I didn't..."
Tamara tried to speak, but because of the lingering aftershocks of the current, her voice trembled uncontrollably, sounding like the whimper of a frightened kitten.
[Passive Skill Triggered: Harmless, Beginner.]
[Effect: When the host's eyes are wide and tearful, the opponent's alertness decreases by 10 percent, making the host easier to perceive as an innocent victim.]
To everyone else, this scene was nothing short of a moral trial.
From their perspective, the newly appointed Professor had accidentally fallen flat on his face, then flown into a rage and begun screaming at a frail, pale little girl who looked only twelve and was currently shaking with fear.
"Good heavens!"
Hermione was the first to rush forward. She supported the swaying Tamara and glared at Lockhart furiously.
"Professor! How could you? Tamara didn't even raise her hand! You fell on your own!"
Harry also squeezed out of the crowd, shielding Tamara and pointing at Lockhart's long robes.
"I saw it too! You clearly tripped over your own robes! How can you blame Tamara?"
"No... it really was her..."
Lockhart mumbled through his bleeding nose, his words slurred.
"My legs... they couldn't move just now..."
"Enough!"
A roar filled with maternal authority rang out.
Molly Weasley, who had only just been full of admiration for Lockhart, now rushed forward like an enraged lioness.
She shoved the rambling Lockhart aside and looked heartbrokenly at Tamara, who was shivering in Hermione's arms.
"Look how you've frightened this child!"
Molly pointed at Tamara's hand, which was still spasming, her eyes turning red.
"She's only a first year child! As a Professor, how can you blame your own clumsiness on her?"
Lockhart was left speechless.
He looked at the women who had once been his fans, all now staring at him with contempt that seemed to say, so this is what kind of person you are. His face hurt even more.
As for Tamara.
Although her body was still twitching from the shock, a twisted satisfaction filled her heart.
It hurt.
It really hurt.
But this was the price of refusing to bow to an idiot.
[Ding! Punishment settlement in progress. Since you chose Option B, please immediately execute the additional punishment task: Request Molly Weasley to take you in for one night.]
[Countdown: 10 seconds. Otherwise, a second round of shocks will begin.]
The laughter in Tamara's heart came to an abrupt halt.
Damn it.
She had almost forgotten about this.
She gritted her teeth and looked at the plump, righteous Mrs. Weasley.
Staying at a blood traitor's house...
This was practically a betrayal of Slytherin.
But looking at the flashing red countdown...
"...This is called enduring humiliation for a greater goal."
Tamara found an excuse for herself in her heart.
She struggled to control her trembling vocal cords and reached out with one pale, cold little hand, gently clutching the hem of Molly's robes.
"Mrs... Mrs. Weasley..."
Tamara looked up.
Those black eyes, usually cold as frost, were now wet from the shock. They looked so fragile they seemed ready to shatter at a touch.
"I... I'm scared..."
Her voice trembled naturally from the pain.
"That Professor... his eyes were so frightening..."
"I don't want to go back to the orphanage... it's cold there, and no one will protect me..."
"Can I... can I stay at your house... for one night?"
This sentence was a weapon designed specifically to strike maternal love.
Molly's heart shattered into a hundred pieces on the spot.
"Oh! Of course! Of course you can, my poor child!"
Molly pulled Tamara into her arms. The warm, almost suffocating hug nearly made Tamara's eyes roll back.
"You'll stay at The Burrow tonight! You can share a room with Ginny! I'll make you the best onion soup and treacle tart! No one will dare hurt you!"
After saying this, Molly gave Lockhart a fierce glare, as if telling him to just wait.
Lockhart: "..."
He felt as if he might be dreaming.
He was clearly the one who had been jinxed, so why had he become the villain?
Just as this farce was about to end with Tamara's complete victory, the bell at the door rang again.
A drawling voice, full of arrogance and sarcasm, cut in.
"My, my... it certainly is lively here."
.....
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