Chapter 130: The Chamber of Secrets Reopened, Death!
Lockhart had to face a stark truth—Tom wasn't always as useful as he'd hoped.
Aside from guiding and fostering spells with an extreme bias towards love and goodness, Tom's talents were actually geared entirely towards Dark Arts, especially magic centered on life.
Death, the Killing Curse. Eternity, Horcruxes. Life, resurrection spells.
Any high-end Dark Arts, no matter how extreme, yielded excellent feedback from Tom. Sometimes, Tom could even extrapolate and devise new spells.
He was a natural at it.
Or rather, this was simply his magical path.
Along this path, Tom pursued extremes. Even his Flying Charm wasn't just about flight, but supersonic flight. Lockhart recalled a past-life forum post where someone had roughly calculated Voldemort's flying speed based on the original books: 3800 kilometers per hour.
Yes, 3800 kilometers per hour!
That was Tom's flying ability!
In an era where most ordinary wizards couldn't even manage a simple Shield Charm, top-tier wizards existed at such absurd levels.
But clearly, this pursuit of extreme magic wasn't suitable for Lockhart's attempts to guide him in researching areas like "casting with a counter-charm mindset" or "self-wrestling to gather will."
Tom couldn't do it.
In these areas, spells that Lockhart could perform with ease became stumbling blocks for Tom, and progress was slow.
Fortunately, he had the incomparably tenacious Basilisk to assist him.
But it was only assistance; Tom was, after all, merely the infant Voldemort, not yet grown to the top tier of the Dark Lord.
Lockhart decisively abandoned Tom.
He began to try it himself, realizing suddenly that this might be his own magical path, one no one else could walk for him, or even walk at all.
Lockhart once again focused his energy on Dumbledore's "Controlling Lightning" magical notebook and the Crabbe family's magical records, delving deeper into their contents.
Of course, sometimes he would also continue writing "Lord Voldemort: A Pure-Blood Supremacist with a Muggle Father?", "A Story with the Boy Who Lived: My Time as a Hogwarts Professor," and helping Snape edit "Severus's Potions Classroom."
After the Christmas holidays, the temperatures grew colder day by day. The rainy season hanging over Hogwarts seemed never-ending.
Lockhart finally received the new wizard robes sent by an American wizarding fashion brand. Unlike the traditional wizarding attire style in Europe, American wizarding society was more modern, actively incorporating Muggle clothing designs, which suited his aesthetic better.
He no longer needed to pretend to be his original self, nor did he need to continue down his original self's magical life path. He was gradually exploring every interesting boundary of his own magical life.
And so, time quietly slipped by.
In the blink of an eye, it was mid-February, Saturday, noon.
Lockhart was stretching as he walked back into his office from the fairy tale book. He had been busy since an idea struck him yesterday afternoon and was about to catch up on sleep when he suddenly heard a rapid hissing sound outside his office door.
It was Parseltongue.
It said, "Professor Lockhart, where are you? Professor Lockhart, are you there?"
It was Harry Potter.
Lockhart found it a bit strange, wondering why Harry was speaking Parseltongue. He waved his hand, causing the office door to swing open.
"Thank goodness, Professor Lockhart, I finally found you!"
Harry Potter rushed in anxiously. Before Lockhart could ask, Harry nervously glanced back outside the door, then gently pulled the doorknob, carefully making no sound as he closed the door.
After closing the door, he quickly rushed forward, lowering his voice to a whisper. "Professor, Crabbe is dead!"
"???"
Lockhart was momentarily confused. "Who?"
"Crabbe, Malfoy's sidekick, Vincent Crabbe!" Harry Potter's expression showed no satisfaction, only an indescribable solemnity. "The Chamber of Secrets has been opened again. Crabbe was attacked again, and many people realize it was damage caused by a Dark creature."
He handed over a photograph. The image was somewhat blurry due to being taken in a hurry, but Crabbe could still be seen lying on the ground, and on the wall, written in fresh red letters, was...
—THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS HAS BEEN REOPENED! ENEMIES OF THE HEIR, BEWARE!
"Someone found him last night. This morning, people from the Ministry of Magic also arrived. They confirmed it was caused by a Dark creature attack, and then…"
"And then…" Harry Potter struggled to continue.
Lockhart gazed at the photo, raising an eyebrow. "And then, because no one could find me, they thought I did it?"
"I believe it wasn't you!" Harry's voice suddenly rose sharply. After shouting, he quickly clapped a hand over his mouth and looked back at the door, nervously saying, "Professor, what should we do? Where were you last night?"
"I was conducting magical experiments last night and didn't want to be disturbed," Lockhart explained casually, quickly sweeping all the loose papers on his desk, the fairy tale book splayed on his chair, and everything else he didn't want discovered into his ring. Then, with his back to Harry, he slipped the ring into the Little Glodie's paw.
He waved his hand, summoning the red cloak, shrinking it, and then tied the cloak onto the Little Glodie's back, completely concealing its presence.
"Don't panic. Professor Dumbledore is here; he won't let me be wrongly accused. What did he say?" Lockhart's tone was casual, feigning indifference, but he was already rapidly tidying everything, including items he didn't strictly need but were considered contraband by Ministry regulations, instructing the Little Glodie to put them all away.
"Professor Dumbledore isn't at school! No one knows where he went!" Harry said anxiously from behind Lockhart. "Professor Lockhart, perhaps you should escape first…"
BANG!
A violent crashing sound ripped through the air.
The office door was flung open with immense force, slamming against the wall, making the small grove within the office rustle wildly.
"Escape?" Scrimgeour, Head of the Auror Office, strode in. His hawk-like nose and dead fish eyes were fixed on Lockhart as he swiftly brandished his wand. "Expelliarmus!"
In an instant, Lockhart's wand shot from his hand with considerable force.
However, the Disarming Charm didn't fully take effect.
Lockhart elegantly raised his hand and, with perfect timing, caught the flying wand.
Anti-Disarming Technique!
Harry Potter watched the seamless movement in awe. Even though Professor Lockhart had personally taught him and Draco how to perform it, they still couldn't do it as well as the professor.
Only someone who had actually practiced this technique would understand the high level of difficulty in what Professor Lockhart had just done, and the deep understanding of the Disarming Charm and magical energy flow it entailed.
Auror Head Scrimgeour had no time for Harry Potter's constant exclamations. His face changed, and he grimly tightened his grip on his wand, pointing it at Lockhart. A group of Aurors rushed in behind him, quickly surrounding them.
"You…"
Before he could speak, Lockhart offered him a gentle smile.
"My apologies, it's a habitual catch. After all, as the Defence Against the Dark Arts professor at Hogwarts, I simply know too well how to counter the Disarming Charm."
Lockhart shrugged, casually handing his wand to Kingsley, who stood nearby with a complicated expression. He didn't say anything to Kingsley, merely crossed his arms and leaned casually against his desk, watching the Aurors. "Look, I can cooperate with you, but please cooperate with me. I'd like to know why you burst into my office acting as if you're arresting a criminal."
An Auror nearby tried to seize the opportunity to cast a binding charm on Lockhart but was quickly restrained by Scrimgeour, who grabbed his arm.
Are you kidding? Who knew how many Dark creatures were in Lockhart's office? If a fight broke out, they might be finished in a hurry.
Scrimgeour had no desire for the Aurors to become a laughingstock again.
He grimly watched the casually posed Lockhart, quietly signaling Kingsley to watch out for any potential Dark creature attacks. "Gilderoy Lockhart, you are suspected in multiple magical campus murders. Please cooperate with our investigation!"
"Is that so?" Lockhart chuckled, looking mockingly at the nervous Aurors. "How interesting. When did you Aurors become so swift in your actions?"
This was truly a stereotype. Aurors always seemed to be the ones who showed up last to clean up, tidying the ground, repairing magically damaged houses, dealing with Muggles who had witnessed wizarding incidents, and so on.
Alright, that truly was a stereotype.
Excluding that small handful of top-tier wizarding giants like Dumbledore, and the powerful wizards from the various magic schools, the most powerful force in the entire wizarding world was undoubtedly the well-trained Auror corps.
Scrimgeour clearly felt the sarcasm in his words, and his face darkened. "Someone submitted a suspicion report to me, concerning you. We've been compiling your information recently."
He slowly stepped forward, carefully observing every detail of Lockhart's expression and subtle body language. "The records precisely indicate that a few days ago, you and your student, Vincent Crabbe, were present at the Crabbe family vault in Gringotts. Connecting this to your presence at the scene of the Crabbe couple's death, we have no choice but to suspect some connection."
Brilliant.
Who was so efficient at stringing these pieces of information together to create such a situation?
Alright, Lockhart actually knew the answer.
Corban Yaxley!
The Death Eater who had revealed his outright malice towards him during their first meeting.
He had to admit, he had underestimated this fellow. He had always held a stereotypical impression of these Death Eaters from the original novels, thinking these deranged imbeciles would only attack him with magic, at most turning a Disarming Charm into a Killing Curse.
Corban Yaxley was clearly not that kind of Death Eater.
This fellow was, first and foremost, a member of one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight pure-blood families, and secondly, a seasoned old hand in the Ministry of Magic's bureaucratic system. He clearly understood better how to leverage his power rather than relying solely on magic.
Suspicion report…
Clearly, even before today's incident, Corban had already secretly begun to influence the powerful Auror department.
As for what the investigation was about, Lockhart naturally had his suspicions.
As the saying goes, "a wild goose leaves its marks"; there's no such thing as a completely airtight secret. The original Lockhart, in just nine years after graduation, had written over a dozen best-selling books. Not to mention whether he even had enough time to experience so many adventures, just the power displayed in the books was far beyond the level he had shown right after graduation.
It was the kind of gap one would see between a Crabbe and a Snape.
Even if no one knew he used Memory Charms to steal others' lives, suspicion would still naturally arise.
A cunning old fox like Corban, by seizing this point and fabricating anything, would have enough reason for the Aurors to investigate. As for what they might find, it would all fall within the scope of what Corban wanted to see.
One layer connected to another.
In the past, when everyone flattered each other, suspicions wouldn't be openly discussed to avoid making enemies, so the outward glamour could be maintained.
But now, Lockhart stood firmly against Voldemort. What was coming would come; there was no avoiding it.
This was utterly un-magical.
Old Voldemort, you're really so low. If you can't kill me, you intend to have your subordinates deal with me this way?
Lockhart scoffed disdainfully. "Based solely on suspicion, you intend to bring this many people to arrest me right here at Hogwarts, in front of my colleagues and students?"
His voice deepened. "Do you know how much damage that will do to my reputation?"
Scrimgeour merely said coldly, "If you are innocent…"
"If I am innocent, my reputation will still be damaged!" Lockhart's voice carried a terrible fury, a rage that everyone could feel, swirling madly through the office as if imbued with magic. One of the Aurors surrounding him, clearly lacking psychological fortitude, had already started trembling in the face of this storm of anger.
Just then, a scuffling of footsteps echoed in the corridor outside the door.
The school professors had finally arrived. Professor McGonagall's face was tight as she said in a very displeased tone, "Scrimgeour, this is Hogwarts. You cannot take anyone from my school!"
As soon as her words fell, an Auror in the corner staggered and fell to the ground, causing everyone to look at him.
The Auror's face immediately turned red. He didn't mean to; but just now, he had been concentrating all his mind on resisting that terrifying, suffocating anger, and then it suddenly vanished, causing him to make a fool of himself.
Fortunately, another voice drew everyone's attention, saving him from looking like a clown.
The newcomer was Corban Yaxley.
He squeezed in and held up a document. "A special arrest warrant, formally signed by the Minister for Magic. We require Professor Gilderoy Lockhart to accompany us to the Ministry of Magic for investigation!"
"This is merely suspicion!" Professor McGonagall was trembling with anger.
"I'm sorry, Professor McGonagall." Corban Yaxley's face was grim. He took a report from one of his subordinates from the Magical Accidental Injury Department office. "We have conducted a detailed assessment. Vincent Crabbe was definitively killed by a Dark magical creature attack. In this school, only Professor Lockhart brazenly keeps Dark magical creatures. This is reasonable suspicion. As this involves the death of a student, which is a major incident, he must cooperate with the investigation."
Professor McGonagall hesitated. She pursed her lips and looked back at Lockhart.
"I demand to see Crabbe," Lockhart requested. Death by Dark magical creature attack wasn't always true death; he needed to figure out what was going on.
"Absolutely not!" Scrimgeour's attitude was unyielding. "You must come with us immediately!"
"Gilderoy Lockhart…" Corban drawled, his eyes filled with cruelty and satisfaction, yet speaking words that perfectly fit his righteous persona. "Don't try any tricks or use this as an opportunity to escape. I'm telling you, we've seen this kind of thing many times."
Well, what could Lockhart do?
His mind simply couldn't formulate an appropriate countermeasure.
After all…
At this moment, he was merely a Boggart.
He glanced back out the window. He could see the Winged Demon releasing its Obliviation Charm mist, affecting everyone in the corridor below the castle. Within the mist, his master, led by Harry Potter, had gone to find Crabbe.
.....
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