Upon hearing this news, however, Joanne was not as happy as one might have expected.
Of course, she was not worried about the quality of her work. Her main concern was that this work, into which she had poured so much hope, might disappoint Tver again.
"I should warn you first. It takes time for a literary work to build influence. If you're still thinking people will accept the existence of magic in a year or so, don't blame me for throwing cold water on you."
Seeing Joanne's solemn expression, as if she were afraid he would shelve her work the moment he was displeased, Tver waved his hand in amusement.
"Relax. This time, governments around the world will help promote it. They may even discuss it on some official programs. Its sales and discussion will definitely be far higher than the last book."
Joanne remained half convinced. It was not that she doubted Tver's ability, but a situation where governments across the world officially recommended the same book had never happened on this planet before.
Before she could continue the topic, however, there was a knock on the simple wooden door of the office.
"Mr. Fawley, there is a Miss Cynthia outside with a… uh… Mr. Gilderoy Lockhart. They said they have an urgent matter to report to you."
"?"
The instant he heard Lockhart's name, Tver was blank for a second. After a moment, he came back to his senses under Joanne's equally astonished gaze.
"Didn't you say Lockhart died in the Azkaban riot?" Joanne asked in surprise.
Her previous work, as well as the more childish Young Kid series she was planning in addition to the Harry Potter series, had drawn its main inspiration from Mr. Lockhart's works.
To put it bluntly, she had only felt so at ease occupying a small portion of his labor because she had thought Lockhart was dead.
But now that the rightful owner had come knocking, how was she supposed to feel comfortable about it?
"Uh… that was only my guess. He really was locked up in Azkaban back then. In that kind of environment, with his abilities, the chance of him surviving was far too small."
Tver gave an awkward laugh, then quickly cast that embarrassment aside and relaxed.
"But you can just treat him as dead. At the very least, he's like a dead man in that he can't affect you."
"You mustn't let Catherine hear you say that…"
Before Joanne could fully vent her displeasure, Tver controlled the door and opened it.
Cynthia stepped in first, and following behind her was indeed Lockhart, whom they had not seen for a long time, though he still looked to be in fairly decent condition.
Compared with four years ago, Lockhart was a little thinner. For some reason, Tver felt that this made him look sharper and more capable, unlike before, when he was handsome but rather foolish.
"According to the Aurors protecting Fawley Manor, Lockhart had been wandering nearby for two days. To be safe, I arrested him."
Cynthia glanced lightly at Lockhart, not taking his strength seriously at all.
"But it seems he has something to tell you, so I brought him here."
"That's not it," Lockhart hurriedly said. "I was trying to find you this way from the beginning, Tver. I have something extremely important to tell you!"
Even so, hearing the words "extremely important" come from Lockhart's mouth gave Tver a faint sense of absurdity.
"Then why didn't you write me directly or go find an Auror? Or do you prefer communicating by getting arrested?"
"It was no use!"
At the mention of this, all of Lockhart's grief and indignation from this period surged up.
"I'm a fugitive to begin with. I went through endless trouble to find a reckless young owl, but every single letter was sent back!"
"Later, I forced down my unease and went to find some Aurors who were returning home alone…"
"And then!"
"Those Aurors all thought I was going to attack them. The moment I showed my face, they drew their wands and attacked me!"
"They didn't even think about it. Forget the fact that I don't even have a wand now. Even at my peak, I couldn't beat them!"
After finally escaping from the hellish Azkaban riot, Lockhart's abilities had become pitifully weak. Without a wand, he was not much different from a Squib.
In such a frightened, unsettled state, his attempts to find Tver had repeatedly ended in miserable failure.
If he had not been mentally strong, he would have collapsed long ago.
Looking at Lockhart, who seemed so aggrieved that he was about to cry, Tver did not know how to comfort him.
Anyone familiar with Tver knew that letters could be sent directly to the Ministry of Magic where Cynthia was, or to the British Joint Operations Office. He would regularly go there to deal with those letters.
Of course, Lockhart had been in Azkaban for nearly four years, so there was no way he could know that.
As for the Aurors, that was naturally the result of Marvolio leading the Death Eaters around on operations.
Although the people being punished were Ministry moles, Aurors and other employees still had every reason to heighten their personal awareness of protection.
So Lockhart had simply been unlucky enough to walk straight into the line of fire.
Still, Tver had no need to explain that to Lockhart.
"Don't worry about those details. In any case, you achieved your goal. Go on, what happened that made you so anxious to find me?"
Lockhart fake-sobbed twice. When he realized no one cared and that they were even looking him over with interest, he had no choice but to put on a solemn expression.
"Tver Fawley, your teacher has colluded with You-Know-Who!"
"What are you talking about?" Tver asked in shock.
"Tver, half a year ago, I personally saw your teacher appear in Diagon Alley and speak with You-Know-Who. In the end, he even saw You-Know-Who off with great respect!"
Lockhart raised his head as if seeking credit, clearly very proud that he had noticed this.
Only…
"Respect?"
The moment he heard that word, Tver knew Lockhart was lying.
With his teacher's personality, not pointing at Voldemort's nose… oh, Voldemort did not have a nose now. Then pointing at his nostrils and mocking him would already count as polite.
"You must have seen wrong. My teacher would never show respect to Voldemort."
"Impossible!"
This was the one thing Lockhart had left to be proud of, and he absolutely would not admit to any mistake.
"I saw Karkaroff with my own eyes in Diagon Alley, furtively talking to someone in a black robe!"
"…"
There were so many flaws in Lockhart's sentence that Tver did not even know where to begin.
So Lockhart had meant Karkaroff. That was not difficult to understand. To some people in the magic world, the headmaster of a school could naturally be called the teacher of all its students.
Moreover, Karkaroff often boasted to others that Tver had been a Durmstrang student. It was perfectly normal for Lockhart to misunderstand.
But the problem was…
"How are you sure that the black-robed person talking to Karkaroff was Voldemort?" Joanne had already noticed the fatal issue.
In the jittery magic world, it was perfectly normal for someone to wear a black robe to hide their identity. Now that Tver's fame had risen, even he sometimes had to conceal who he was. Surely not every person like that could be Voldemort?
All one could say was that Lockhart's unreliability was, as always, reliably consistent.