Chapter 325: The aging Lockhart

On the first floor is the Department of Objects and Accidents, on the second floor is the Department of Biological Injury, on the third floor is the Department of Biological Infections, on the fourth floor is the Department of Poison and Plant Poisoning, on the fifth floor is the Curse of Injuries, and on the sixth floor is the tea room and shop.
Hermione thought back.
In order to avoid their worries, Professor McGonagall didn't reveal much about Arthur Weasley's condition, and Hermione could only guess.
Harry's serpentification was not obvious at the time.
So Hermione made a wrong judgment.
She chose to go all the way up and walked up the stairs.
Until the fifth floor.
She speculated that it was curse damage, because Professor McGonagall revealed an attack.
She didn't have a nurse walking through the aisle, perhaps because all patients were in stable condition.
There were some empty spaces in the hallway, some white curtains obscured her vision, and there were some iron frames in the aisle for some unknown purpose.
There are also portraits of celebrities on the blank spaces of the white walls on both sides. Hermione remembers that these are people who have made outstanding contributions to the Saint Mungo Magical Injury Hospital.
In the center, a bright bubble hangs to play a role in lighting.
The few rooms beside her didn't close the door, slightly concealed, and there were no special marks, Hermione quickly ruled out.
Hermione lightened her footsteps and walked to the end of the corridor, carefully pushing open the wooden door with the slogan "Critical Care", and besides the slogan, there was a pair of inexplicably bright bouquets, exuding elegant fragrance.
There is also a door on the other side, but the material of the door is made of iron. A large iron lock is hung on the bolt. Unlike a hospital, it is like a prison. It reads: Allow, no entry."
Of course, Hermione would not go in voluntarily, but chose the unlocked side first.
"Is anyone there?" Hermione carefully pushed open the wooden door, leaned over her head, asked first, and then took a step forward.
But, looking at the empty room, she knew she had gone wrong.
If there is no accident, there should be a family here.
I must have inferred that something went wrong.
"Sorry, bother, I will leave soon." Hermione bowed quickly, but, after raising her head, Yu Guang saw the patient in bed, his apologetic face suddenly froze.
She saw an acquaintance, an unexpected person, both strange and familiar.
Gidero Lockhart, wearing a simple white sick suit, leaned on a white hospital bed and looked at the latest issue of the Daily Prophet.
Familiarity is because he used to be their black magic defense teacher. Hermione's memory was good enough. Even Neville, who is famous for forgetfulness, could not forget to teach his own teacher.
The strangeness is because of his old age.
It is terrifyingly old.
The golden, wavy and curly blond hair had fallen out, and the light of crystal bubbles hanging from the ceiling was particularly dazzling. The blue eyes of the forget-me-not were full of fatigue, as if faded same.
"Uh, Miss Granger? Long time no see? I occasionally want to change my hairstyle." The man smiled a little embarrassedly, touched his shiny head, and then waved at Hermione.
"Professor Lockhart?" Hermione looked at the patient in surprise and whispered.
Hermione's head is a little dizzy, and the handsome professor has become so old now?
The wrinkles in the corners of the eyes are deep and dense, and the eye sockets are deep. When smiling, the muscles on the face are quite relaxed, lack of vitality, and support the smile.
The most important thing is what is hidden in the eyes.
Lifeless and lifeless.
Hermione’s parents are dentists, and she occasionally visits the elderly where her parents work, and has seen all kinds of patients, from children, to young people, middle-aged people, and elderly people. Their eyes are different. .
Children are often naive and innocent, and the eyes of the old man often have the wisdom to understand the philosophy of life, and they are somewhat passable, knowing the relief and indifference of destiny.
And what happened to the man who once served as a teacher of their dark magic defense class?
It was in the eyes, the remnant candle in the wind, and the expression that might go out at any time.
"Who are you? Who let you in?" A tall, thin man pushed the covert door completely open, making a crunching noise, and stood abruptly in front of Hermione, questioning her in a condescending manner.
With a serious expression on his face, and a pair of flat glasses, Hermione didn't know his true age for a while.
He wore the same standard clothing as the therapist downstairs, and should be a therapist at St. Mungo Hospital.
On the white robe, there is a card showing his identity, the handwriting-the main healer: Hiberklatsmey.
Before Hermione could explain, the situation changed again.
"Augustus! You stole my clothes again to deceive people!" A man of medium size broke into the door, startled the man named Augustus, and Hermione saw it with her own eyes He dragged the card from his robe and didn't get it on himself, yes, and the glasses.
Then he smiled at Hermione.
"I am the attending doctor here. My name is Hiberk Smersueck. I hope this intern has not troubled you."
Then Hermione saw that the man named Augustus felt somehow put on a white gown and put on her badge.
Looking at her with a smile, there is no consciousness that the mischief was found.
"Uh...just this gentleman." The attending doctor looked at Lockhart and hesitated. "Few people came to visit him."
"Oh, he is my student, I don't mind." Lockhart on the bed narrowed his eyes, nodded, and said briskly.
"That's good, UU reading www.uukanshu.com, let's talk about it. I'm just a routine round." Heberkrat then took the intern to another one, engraved with the number 49, In front of the door with the iron lock.
One side murmured: "It's weird, obviously we always told us to keep it secret." The middle-aged man frowned, then shook his head and decided not to consider this matter.
Hermione was free now, and she focused her attention on the former teacher in front of her.
A handsome middle-aged man who has grown old in just a few years?
What vicious black magic did he get?
"I know, you must be curious." Lockhart nodded wearily, it seemed that this nod was not under his control, but because of fatigue.
"I haven't lived in a few years," he said sadly.
This reality can be seen from the face.
"Are you cursed?" Hermione asked cautiously.