Chapter 311 The Jingle Will Not Be Forgotten

Umbridge's eyes narrowed, and she asked delicately, "Maintain the pipes?"

Before Anthony could think of how to describe the consequences of Myrtle's temper, a figure suddenly emerged from the wall.

"Haha, listen!" Peeves sang in a weird voice, "Her appearance makes my heart beat wildly-"

"Shut up!" Umbridge shouted.

Peeves was slightly startled and stopped, realizing that it was not the crying Myrtle in the bathroom. He turned over and looked down at Anthony and Umbridge. Seeing Umbridge's face, Peeves chuckled, with a happy and malicious light flashing in his black eyes.

"As you wish, Ms. Snotlout Bibby Beans," he said, "If you want my mouth to be closed, Snotlout Bibby Beans, I will definitely close it."

He closed his mouth, stuck out his tongue, and rushed towards them. Umbridge's eyes bulged out angrily, and she waved her wand violently, making a whirring sound. Her movements were so large that Anthony had to move further away to avoid being hit by her baseball bat-like wand.

A series of spells of different colors passed through Peeves' body and slammed against the bathroom wall, shaking the firelight.

Peeves shouted, "Pah, it smells like booger, it's unpalatable!" He flew around Umbridge and Anthony twice, then jumped back into the air, sat cross-legged, laughed at Umbridge's face flushed with anger, and sang in a long voice, "Some say she's confused, some say she's evil-hearted-" Another spell passed through his body, "But Peeves knows best-"

"That's enough, Peeves," Anthony said, using necromancy to gently grab Peeves by the back of his collar to stop him from flying over Umbridge's head again. Umbridge was breathing heavily beside him, as if she had temporarily exhausted all the magic she could think of.

"--She's always been stubborn--" Peeves sang, scratching at the back of his neck.

Before he could finish the next line, Anthony grabbed him by the collar and threw him out the bathroom door. Peeves laughed loudly in the corridor and seemed to want to come back in, but then something more interesting attracted his attention, and he broke away from Anthony's magic and flew away.

"Let's get out of here, Ms. Umbridge," Anthony suggested.

Umbridge's cheek twitched. She adjusted her collar, then smoothed her sleeves very vigorously, and walked out of the bathroom aggressively, seemingly forgetting to continue to investigate why Anthony was in the girls' bathroom. Anthony followed her quietly, passing his and Lockhart's office doors, and politely escorted her to the corridor.

There they met Filch, who was angry and panting. Peeves had locked Mrs. Norris in the armor again.

...

A few days later, Anthony heard that Umbridge asked the deans of each college to find out who came up with the musical message "to tease the senior investigator", but all the professors told her regretfully that they could not do it.

Professor Flitwick said that no one admitted it; Professor Sprout said that he had asked the dwarves, but they dutifully kept the identity of the anonymous sender confidential; Snape pointed out that Slytherin students usually cooperated with Umbridge's investigation, suggesting that she would focus her suspicion on Gryffindor students - especially the famous second-year Gryffindor with black hair, green eyes, and a lightning-shaped scar on his forehead; Professor McGonagall stated that Gryffindor was actively preparing for the Quidditch match with Hufflepuff ("After Easter." Professor Sprout whispered to Anthony), and Harry trained very late every day and had no time to do literary creation.

Umbridge also tried to investigate on her own, but after Valentine's Day, her majesty was greatly reduced. Many people started to hold back their laughter the first second they saw her face, not to mention that Peeves often hovered over her head, humming loudly the tune of the dwarven music message, or suddenly sprinkled a handful of Peeves' beans. Every time this happened, the professors seemed to have disappeared collectively, and no one ever stepped forward to stop Peeves.

"Yes, Dolores. Peeves is indeed very annoying." Professor Flitwick agreed, "It took my hat last time. Oh, I don't think Albus can do anything about it." He smiled and filled his glass with sparkling pumpkin juice, took a sip, smacked his lips, and threw three or four ice cubes into it.

Dumbledore tapped his forehead gently: "Did I mention to you that Peeves once stole my razor? I must have left it in the boys' bathroom. The next day, I found that I couldn't find the razor, and I heard that Peeves was using a very good razor to shave the students' hair."

"What happened next?" Professor Sprout asked curiously, "Did you get it back, Albus?"

"Well, no." Dumbledore thought, "Then I started to grow a beard. I thought that Peeves would take shaving me as a prank." He lowered his head, looked at his long, silver-white beard, and shook his head, "Maybe it was a wrong judgment."

The professors all laughed at his joke, only Umbridge didn't look amused at all.

"Ha, ha, very interesting." She said in a sickly sweet voice, "Am I to understand that as the headmaster of Hogwarts, you are not prepared to do anything about this? The students have been affected A malicious ghost's prank, but you give me the impression that you think it's funny?"

"You know Peeves never really hurt a student, Dolores. And, like Filius said, there's nothing I can do against him." Dumbledore glanced in Anthony's direction and smiled. He said, "I guess, as a collection of wishes, he is too powerful."

Umbridge pretended to be surprised: "Why do you say that, Headmaster? Don't people call you the most powerful wizard in the world? If a headmaster can't even expel a ghost who is causing trouble in the school..."

"There are many things that I can't do anything about," Dumbledore said calmly. "I have never denied that."

Umbridge said meaningfully: "Very good, I will remember it."

Anthony saw Professor McGonagall and Professor Sprout exchange a look. There was silence on the staff bench for a short while, and only the buzzing chatter of students and the clinking of plates, knives and forks could be heard.

"By the way, Headmaster." Umbridge looked up from a piece of apple pie and said sweetly, "I think you forgot something."

Dumbledore asked: "What?"

"The House has decentralized powers," Umbridge said. "You know, as the Senior Investigator, I should have the same powers as the faculty..."

"Oh, this." Dumbledore said as if he suddenly understood.

He put his fingertips together and looked up for a moment at the changing clouds on the enchanted ceiling. Umbridge coughed a few times as if clearing her throat, and then she suddenly regained consciousness and looked away: "I'm sorry, Dolores, I guess this happens to be one of the things I can't do anything about."

Umbridge narrowed her eyes and her voice became sweeter: "There's nothing you can do, Headmaster?"

"I'm sorry, Dolores." Dumbledore repeated, with a helpless smile on his face, "Hogwarts is an ancient magical castle, and older things usually have their own tempers. Even as the principal, I'm afraid I can't force the castle to change its mind."

…

Unable to find any students to vent her anger on, Umbridge became increasingly sarcastic in her professors' classes. She lobbed tough questions at professors and students like a student dropping a dung bomb into her office early on a weekend morning. Filch assured Umbridge that he would be able to catch the perpetrator, only to discover that both the Weasley twins and Lee Jordan had impeccable alibi.

He walked around in the corridor on the third floor, holding Mrs. Lorris in his arms, hunching his shoulders and sniffing, like an old hunting dog stubbornly circling the tree stump. It wasn't until Roger Davis and Emery Sheen told him that Peeves had broken the toilet and sewer pipe in the bathroom again that he had to give up this meaningless stepping activity. Cursing, he rushed in the direction they were pointing, vowing to catch Peeves this time.

While Umbridge dealt with the dung bombs, the Valentine's Day turmoil seemed to die down - seemingly. If only that owl hadn't flown into the hall that day.

That morning, Anthony was spreading butter on bread while chatting with Professor McGonagall about the employment situation of last year's graduates. Lockhart was telling Snape how good he was at potions - but don't worry, his greatest passion is still fighting against dark magic and taking risks, so as long as he works hard enough, Snape still hopes to be admitted to the Potions Society. Lifetime achievement awards, blah, blah, blah. Umbridge was instructing Filch, and Filch nodded repeatedly, his face full of approval and respect. Owls flew in and out of the windows, dropping newspapers and letters onto the eating students' cups, or nimbly snatching a strip of bacon or half a sausage from their plates.

That's when the owl flew in. It was a majestic barn owl. It circled over the hall and then flew towards Lockhart with a clear purpose. It slammed a thick, heavy package onto the table, causing several professors to look up from their breakfasts.

"Ah, I think it's about time." Lockhart said happily, tearing open the package with a clatter. Anthony looked on curiously.

A rolled-up magazine fell out of the package. Even a few seats away, Anthony could see Lockhart's shining signature smile on the cover. Lockhart opened the magazine, looked at it for a while, and shook his head: "Oh, oh, I clearly told them not to lay out the photos like this! And here - I said, I like the other version of the photos better. of."

He continued talking loudly to himself for a while - all the while with Snape looking on - until Professor McGonagall couldn't stand it anymore.

"What is that, Gilderoy?" she interrupted aloud.

Lockhart looked a little surprised.

"Oh, this?" He raised the magazine in his hand and said nonchalantly, "I have been urged tens of thousands of times by thousands of people, and they all want to see my second autobiography as soon as possible... I am in Hogwart 'Good Gilderoy, tell us a little about your experiences,' they begged me, 'you must have experienced many interesting things at Hogwarts!' So I said to myself. How can we disappoint these readers..."

Snape said simply to Professor McGonagall: "Wizard Weekly."

"It's a sample issue of Wizarding Weekly," Lockhart said. "I published some of the content that will appear in Happy Hogwarts... Of course," he said tacitly to the other professors. Blinking his eyes, "You are also among them. You don't need to thank me too much for this, because as I mentioned in my first autobiography - "Magical Me" - I always think that my companions are An essential part of the adventure when I travel with a dominatrix..."

"We will read it, Gilderoy," Professor McGonagall said dryly.

"Of course you can read, Minerva." Lockhart lowered his voice and said affectionately, "But, listen to me, don't be too indulging in the joy of having your name in the newspapers. Fame, dear Mi Leva is a capricious friend. If you are as famous as me, you will understand that it can bring you ecstasy one second, and may plunge you to the bottom the next second... Well, everyone will They say we should face it with humility, but how many people can actually do this like me?”

Professor McGonagall pursed her lips tightly and cut her hash browns firmly.

To prevent her plate from shattering, Anthony said, "Exactly, Professor Lockhart. Would you like - er - a little bit of apple pie?"

"Of course." Lockhart smiled brightly and handed the "Wizard Weekly" to him while taking the apple pie from Anthony. Confused, Anthony took the magazine and glanced down. Lockhart smiled brightly at him from the cover.

He looked up, and the living Lockhart was smiling too.

"A very clever little trick, Henry." He winked at Anthony. "Exchanging the apple pie for the magazine... I know you want to see it. It doesn't matter, it's yours now. Although I will say there are a few places where they could Doing better, but that’s probably just because I’m setting my sights too high for most people…”

Under the gaze of Professor McGonagall, Anthony opened the magazine. Then she and Anthony looked up together and exchanged glances.

At the top of the page, written in beautiful cursive calligraphy: "Singing with the God of Love." On the opposite page, the energetic Lockhart is hugging the dwarf dressed as Cupid, and Umbridge is on the other side of him, looking ugly and glaring at the camera.