Chapter 161: Does He Deserve It?!!
Lockhart had come to the Headmaster's office this time to show Dumbledore the finished manuscript of "Lord Voldemort: A Pure-Blood Supremacist with a Muggle Father?"
It touched upon Dumbledore's and Grindelwald's magical philosophies, so out of respect, he ultimately decided to hear Dumbledore's opinion.
"This needs to form a control group, lest someone only sees Voldemort's magical philosophy and goes astray. We all know that magic isn't just a simple matter of uttering spells."
Dumbledore, with an unreadable expression, flipped through the manuscript. He paused, keenly noting that this was the first time in months he had heard Lockhart directly utter Tom's name again.
He looked up at Lockhart and shook his head. "You're mistaken. There are probably very few people in this world who can truly understand the content within."
Oh, really...
Lockhart was somewhat displeased. "I believe I've used the simplest language to describe these profound concepts. This is my consistent approach to popular science writing; even Muggles can understand it!"
Dumbledore smiled faintly, pointing to the sky outside his office window. "Go out now, gather all the students in the school, and teach them the weather charm you just performed using the method you described. Let's see how many actually learn it in the end?"
"..."
Lockhart was speechless.
He had indeed dedicated a lot of energy to educating young wizards this school year, so he naturally understood the difficulty of getting them to truly master this magic.
He had integrated the magical philosophies of Dumbledore, Grindelwald, Voldemort, the forest witch, and his own, and practiced so much, that only then did magic naturally blossom in his hands.
The principle was actually very simple.
If one truly understood it, explaining it clearly would only take a few sentences.
But putting it into practice was difficult.
Let alone a weather charm, some young wizards still couldn't even use the Levitation Charm properly.
The office fell silent again. Lockhart began to ponder whether there should be more effective ways to disseminate magical knowledge, while Dumbledore diligently read every word in the book.
He could feel that within it were his soul, Gellert's soul, and Tom's soul.
Yes, souls!
He had never imagined that Gilderoy Lockhart, this fellow, had grasped the wisdom within his and Gellert's notes on magic, "Controlling Lightning," in such a short time. Even more, he hadn't imagined that Gilderoy understood Tom better than he did.
"No one understands the Dark Lord Voldemort better than I do!"—Lockhart had indeed said such words, but it turned out not to be empty boasting, but true?
You actually do understand?
Dumbledore found it preposterous.
He silently flipped through the book's contents, suddenly unsure if Voldemort would be enraged by Lockhart publishing this book.
Because...
Perhaps in this world, truly no one understood Voldemort better than Lockhart.
Magical masters were always solitary, whether wizards walked the righteous path or the wicked path, they were solitary.
Magic was not simply chanting spells; it was intertwined with life, with life's philosophy, with every step taken, every decision made, every experience endured, and every emotion generated.
The higher one ascended on the magical path, the lonelier one's life became. Looking around, the once bustling path unknowingly became silent, with only one person trudging forward.
No one would truly understand them.
Because magic was inherently a solitary path; it was not reproducible.
And now, such a miraculous author had actually appeared.
Yes, Gilderoy Lockhart had indeed walked some erroneous life paths, stealing the lives of many people, but perhaps because of that, he became an extremely unique wizard who could more easily feel the lives of others.
This was undoubtedly miraculous, and something that brought happiness to magical masters.
Because this person might truly appear on their solitary magical path, come close, and greet them with a radiant smile, saying, "Hi, friend."
That kind of warmth was unimaginable and incomprehensible to ordinary people.
Old Dumbledore even had an impulse to tell Lockhart, "How about, after I die, you write a biography for me too? It doesn't have to be too good, just like Tom's!"
He was jealous.
What right did a scoundrel like Tom have to possess such a uniquely understanding biography!
Does he deserve it?!!
Dumbledore turned page after page, feeling as if he was entering Tom Riddle's inner world, experiencing his immensely powerful and terrifying desires and will, his evil and cruelty, and the fragile soul beneath this desire, will, cruelty, and extremism.
This was a biography that Tom might only rarely have the chance to obtain.
It was also an instruction manual for dealing with Tom, laying bare Tom's magic and inner fragility for all to see, clearly and unmistakably revealing everything.
"How is it?" Lockhart couldn't help but ask when Dumbledore turned to the last page and fell into thought.
"Much better than what Rita wrote," Dumbledore smiled faintly. "Her 'Armando Dippet: Greater or Grand Looper?' was all superficial, filled with her own expressions and malicious speculation about those in power."
"But what you've written is more geared towards the exploration of magic. It's not even confined to the genre of a biography; it's a highly valuable magical treatise!"
Both from Ravenclaw, both liked writing, both wrote biographies, yet why was the difference so vast?
Tsk~
Actually, this was due to the influence of cultural heritage from his previous life.
The ancient masters who wrote biographies in Lockhart's past life, while seemingly writing about people, were actually writing about principles: principles of life cultivation, principles of governance, all sorts of wisdom. Even very wild unofficial histories never settled for merely recording interesting anecdotes and gossip, like tabloid literature.
Even in the Internet age, netizens deeply influenced by culture also had a large number of people who liked to record history or "shit," and the accounts of people or events they compiled always presented a unique sense of destiny.
"Regarding your and Mr. Grindelwald's magical philosophies discussed here..." Lockhart asked, his face questioning.
"Gellert will like it," Dumbledore replied with a smile.
Nice!
But...
While saying this, and the conversation atmosphere was amicable, when Lockhart asked Dumbledore to fulfill his previous promise and write a recommendation for the book, he received no reply.
Old Dumbledore wasn't willing.
Accepting the book's existence could already be called magnanimous on his part. To ask him to write a recommendation again, he~, ptui!
Go away! Go away! Go away~!
This wasn't some tabloid gossip that could be used to purely attack Voldemort's bloodline legitimacy. Why should it receive his recommendation? Such a magical treatise should be incomprehensible to anyone and be thrown into the darkest warehouse to rot.
Lockhart saw this petty side of the old man.
Fortunately, Dumbledore carried a strong moral burden and felt somewhat guilty, offering a small compensation.
A valuable set of magical documents.
Score!
Lockhart immediately forgot all about the recommendation letter.
Dumbledore retrieved these documents from the darkest corner of a bookshelf in his office. They didn't seem to have been properly preserved; some of the bindings were already cracking, emitting a slight musty smell.
He performed magic to remove the mold, making the documents clean again, and placed them on the table.
This was a thick compilation, a full 1 foot (30 cm) thick, and as wide as an unfolded newspaper.
However, before Lockhart could even pick it up, another one was pulled out and placed on the table.
One, then one, then another.
A total of seven such documents, stacked almost as tall as Dumbledore.
Was this stuff actually reliable? Lockhart was skeptical.
With a strange expression, he forcefully lifted one of them. He opened the thick, sturdy leather cover and found that it was indeed newspapers.
This was a compilation of articles from various newspapers, magazines, and even copied pages from magical books, with very complex sources.
Lockhart flipped through it, finding some familiar newspaper periodicals and others he had never encountered.
Transfiguration Today, Charm Innovations, Practical Potions Master, Wizards at War, New York Ghost...
These documents shared only one common characteristic: they were all periodicals to which Albus Dumbledore had contributed.
Organized in ten-year increments, it compiled all the information Dumbledore had published over seventy years.
"This was compiled by a fan of mine."
"Actually, I've always published my magical philosophies without reservation in various periodicals; it's just that not many people truly bothered to compile and study them."
Dumbledore clapped his hands after finding these, casually picked up a Cockroach Cluster from a plate and popped it into his mouth, looking at the large pile of documents with a complex expression.
"A fan?" Lockhart's expression was a little odd.
Old Dumbledore actually had such a fervent fan?
"Well..." Dumbledore sighed. "It was Tom. He compiled it when he was a student. When he was in his seventh year, he sent it to me as a Christmas gift. He sent so many owls, and he wasn't at school himself, so he didn't give me a chance to refuse."
"At the time, I repeatedly refused his wish to stay at the school."
"I detected the malice in his heart, and his influence within the pure-blood community and his organization, the 'Knights of Walpurgis' (the predecessor of the Death Eaters)."
Dumbledore looked up at Lockhart. "I'm not willing to keep just anyone in this school. Even I exercise extreme restraint in not spreading my political views to students, and if he became a professor, he would undoubtedly do so extensively."
"Such a person absolutely cannot stay at Hogwarts. I have never regretted that decision."
"At the time, I thought he compiled and sent these to persuade me to let him stay at school, overlooking some hidden emotions. That's where I also fell short."
Old Dumbledore understood self-reflection and carried a heavy psychological burden.
Lockhart shrugged nonchalantly, flipping through the contents, finding many of them extremely brilliant. The later the papers, the more profound they became. Following the timeline, it was as if he could glimpse the trajectory of Dumbledore's magical path.
"This is an incredibly valuable collection of documents!" he exclaimed.
"They're yours," Dumbledore said, no longer looking at the documents, but turning his gaze back to the other Voldemort Horcrux he had found during the full moon night.
He hadn't immediately destroyed it. It wasn't difficult; any bit of Fiendfyre or similar magic could burn it to ashes in an instant.
Horcruxes were not resilient objects to him.
However, Lockhart had given him some new ideas. Perhaps these Horcruxes could be used against Tom in the future. For him, destroying them one by one or collecting them all to destroy them together made no difference. He was willing to try this approach.
Tom...
Regardless of whether he had any filial affection for him, regardless of what emotions he held within, regardless of whether he also represented the heights a wizard could reach in a certain field, just looking at the terrible and malicious things he had done, Dumbledore felt no softness whatsoever.
Such a person was better off dead.
Magic books could exist, but Tom could not!
.....
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