Side Story 8
Gidero Lockhart rarely spoke of his hometown to anyone.
In fact, even the most gossipy magazines only briefly mention Lockhart's origins.
They say he comes from a beautiful seaside town, which is true.
But if Lockhart wants to tell us something about his life,
He will tell us.
He was born in a small town in South Wales the year after President Kennedy's assassination.
It was a place of poets, madmen, and drug lords. In Lockhart's memory, hometown meant mines, mountains, and rivers, as well as choirs, football teams, sheep, exaggerated hats, and red flannel waistcoats. Before the age of eleven Gidro Lockhart,
He lived among people who spoke a strange language,
Among the wild and bored people, most of whom later became the snowmen and werewolves of his stories.
Old Mr. Lockhart was also one of these heroes. He was a man as tall as a giant ship.
The thing he did most often,
He would use his loud voice to argue with equally loud men in the bar about the direction of the Cold War and the techniques of fishing. Then he would return drunk, his black boots creaking on the wooden floor like boats.
After waking Gidro up,
He would lie down on the sofa in the kitchen, fast asleep.
Then, the thin Madam Lockhart would step out from the shadows without a sound.
She would wipe the drunkard's face and hands clean, clean his beard of the dregs of food, and take off his boots to soak his feet. Then she would shove Gidro up the stairs, hiding in the shadow of the stairs, and send him back to sleep.
When old Mr. Lockhart was not drunk, the house was mostly silent. Only the occasional suppressed roar could be heard. "Heavens! "Oh God, can't you stop being so clumsy?!"
As well as sobbing complaints, "I could have been a prostitute … Merlin … Why …"
Then there would be more explosive roars, and the thin shadow of Mrs. Lockhart would drift from the kitchen to the utility room, sobbing and covering her face. Gidro would sit in front of the door, chewing on a stalk of grass and clutching a sand-stained sandwich in his hand.
Generally speaking, having a lonely and gloomy childhood was not a bad thing. Such children would usually grow up to be sharp geniuses or evil villains, and then become the protagonists of a story. They were usually not too ordinary. But Gidro seemed to be an exception. Apart from being unusually clumsy, he didn't display any outstanding traits. Before the age of eleven, Gidro was just one of the wild children running crazily on the beach. He was shy, slightly plump, and couldn't speak clearly. His short, golden-brown hair was neatly cut by Mrs. Lockhart.
What about after eleven? However, an owl brought a letter to Gidro, telling him that he was a wizard and would have his own magic wand. He could use all kinds of magic spells to deal with all kinds of strange problems in life.
God, this is much more interesting than pretending to be a Viking in the park! For the first time, Gidro made a request of Mrs. Lockhart. "Mother, I am going to be a great wizard — can I change my hairstyle?"
Mrs. Lockhart was not interested in Gidro's hairstyle. She was not interested in Gidro most of the time. She just read the letter over and over again, and then stared at her son in puzzlement. "What nonsense are you talking about?"
"How can you be a great wizard?" Mrs. Lockhart stared with her dull, grey-blue eyes. "You are a Muggle!"
It was not until he entered the Hogwarts that Gidro knew what a Muggle was and what a squib was.
He wrote to tell Mrs. Lockhart that he had been sent to Ravenclaw, a college famous for its cleverness and excellence.
Mrs. Lockhart sent back a damp, sea-smelling reply: Do you have magic? Can you cast magic spells? God, your father is drunk again. I have no time to answer your letter. I wish you all the best.
Magic and magic spells? Gidero had not yet considered all this. He had only discovered that a new gown could not conceal his strange accent and funny hairstyle, and that he had to work hard to imitate the so-called "Cockney accent," and that the students here — Good God! They were all adepts! — did not tell jokes about hemp and women in the dormitory. They did not even know that football hooliganism was a legitimate profession.
Gidro was dazzled. He liked the new world. He had learned to speak in a language without f * ck or f * cking, and he had learned to wear a silk shirt, and he had learned how to talk elegantly about the weather and black tea. When he returned to Mrs Lockhart, the woman, who was full of grief and resentment, immediately covered her face and wept. "Gidro! What spells have you learned? "
Gidro smiled a brilliant, silly smile. "What spells, Mother? Am I not a squib? "
Mrs. Lockhart was weeping bitterly, and Gidlow was leaning against the door-post, making a flourishing gesture with his wand.
To be precise, Gidro was not a dud. He could still skillfully use basic spells such as the Flying Spell and the Floating Spell. When he was in the fourth grade, it was not that he did not have magic, but it was not obvious that he had magic.
For seven years, Gidro was not allowed to enter the internal library of Ravenclaw College. When he finally applied for a part-time job in the Hogwarts Library, most of the students in his grade did not know that the chubby, clumsy boy was their classmate. Most of them thought that he was a relative of the Filch family.
However, Gidro and Filch had a good relationship at that time. He often skipped classes to play cards with Filch. One liked to cheat, and the other liked to cheat. They had similar interests. The cat, also called Mrs. Loris, also liked to lie on Gidro's lap to keep warm.
At that time, Filch was not so bad-tempered (he only became the tyrant of the Hogwarts after losing five Mrs. Loris). He could still make some jokes. "Locke boy, do you think I can marry Mrs. Loris to you?"
Gidro was surprised. "I always thought you treated Mrs. Loris as a wife. So it turns out that you treat her as a daughter?"
Filch said, "I only like to marry my daughter. I don't like to lose my wife."
Gidro was very touched and rejected him. "Forget it. I don't want to be inferior to you. Besides, I already have someone I like. "
Filch sneered. "You mean Anna?"
Gidro, who no longer had a bowl cut, blushed and said shyly, "Oh... Don't call her name so loudly."
Filch just sneered disapprovingly and picked up the cards that had been thrown on the table. Anyway, Gidro would not find out. He was talking non-stop about how much he and Anna liked each other. "... I know, my life so far is just shit. No one likes Gidro Lockhart. But if so many people ignored me for so many years just to let me meet Anna... God! I'll be happy until I die! "
"Even if the red-haired girl doesn't even know your name?" Filch threw the last card and pulled Sicco, who was in front of Gidro, to his front.
"She knows." Gidro did not mind. His eyes even became more affectionate. "I received her message."
That petite girl with shoulder-length red hair and a fair, round face would walk past Gidro every day. Sometimes, she would even come in front of him to fill out a debit form and give him a smile. This made the blond boy intoxicated as he searched for information from every place the girl touched.
He wrote letters filled with passionate emotions. "Anna, my dear Anna, I have fallen headlong into my destiny, as if I had fallen into an abyss. It is all because of you. Oh, I don't want to blame you. After all, after all, the moment our eyes met, a higher level of power made us love each other deeply, didn't it? Kissing your fingers, kissing the quill between your fingers and the parchment in your hand. Kissing you, your Locke. "
"Anna, generally speaking, I don't believe in love. Because I never know why people fall in love with another person. I guess maybe there's a hole in our hearts, a cold wind blowing into our souls. And in the depths of my soul, there are all kinds of cold and terrible deep-sea creatures. Until you came to me, your red hair fell on my arm, your rose perfume wrapped around my loneliness. That's right, I understood in that instant that we were together. Your loyal Locke. "
The sweet love made Gidro's whole person become golden, but sometimes he also needed to experience the sweet pain.
"Anna, I saw you and Vincent walking together today. And, although I don't want to make malicious guesses, that pompous and hypocritical Hufflepuff seemed to want to kiss you. I'm in pain, Anna. I have to let you know that I'm in pain. You don't have to do this. My love for you will never change! You can't do this to me. Jealousy and games of temptation should not appear between us, if you want to confirm this. Kissing you, Anna, your humble and loyal Locke. "
Sometimes he could receive a reply to these letters, and sometimes he couldn't. Therefore, Gidro was sometimes sweet and sometimes sad. Most of the day, he was immersed in missing Anna, but he became more and more careless in his spare time, which made his old friend very unhappy.
"Locke boy, if you ask me, although Vincent is a Hufflepuff, he is handsome and handsome, and they are already a couple, aren't they?"
Gidro was furious. "No! Anna loves me, but... but she can't show it, or else... "
"Or else what? Will Vincent use a spell to drive you out of the Hogwarts? "Filch sneered at Gidro's lungs.
Gidro was so angry that he trembled. "Break up! I want to break up with you! "
"That's why cats are always more reliable than wizards." Filch coldly opened the door.
Gidro walked out of the door of friendship with his chin held high, and then became even more immersed in love. He tossed and turned in bed at night, wrote more letters, said more words of love, and carefully selected male wizard perfume to spray on his wrists and ears. He appeared in every corridor that Anna passed by, stole the most delicate flowers with dew from the greenhouse, and gave them to Anna on her birthday, and then...
Gidro graduated in disgrace, and Anna finally learned his name from the notice.
"Gidro Lockhart?" The red-haired, round-faced Gryffindor girl frowned. "What a strange name. No wonder he did such strange things!"
"He said he likes you, and you like him too?" Her roommate asked curiously. "Aren't you dating Vincent?"
"What! If Professor Mcgonagall didn't tell me, I wouldn't even know which school he is from. " Anna swept the roses on the table into the trash can, and then tied up her red hair. "Also, Vincent and I are not dating. We are engaged."
It was only later that Filch learned that Gidro had been criticized for harassing a female student. The old administrator was only stunned for a moment, then he picked up Mrs. Loris, who was too old to move, and scratched her neck. He said to himself, "What a boy who values his girlfriend more than his friends. He didn't even say goodbye." After a pause, he asked again, "In my opinion, can that boy find a job?"
Later, when Filch was cleaning the room and was about to throw away the dusty poker cards in the corner of the drawer, he found a small box in the depths of the drawer. There were dozens of letters in the box, and judging from the envelopes, they were letters between Locke and Anna. Although the handwriting seemed to belong to the same person.
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