Written on the white page:"What do you want from me?"There was no tone, no voice… just dry words on the blank page.Yet I felt them.Anger. Fear. Anxiety.As if the ink bled those feelings from the very heart of the diary.
– "No need to worry, Tom. As long as you cooperate… you don't think I'm going to eat you or anything, do you?"I said this, sarcasm slipping into my voice against my will. He didn't reply. No new words appeared.I turned the page and continued speaking.– "Tell me, Tom… have you ever felt remorse for anything?"The ink appeared quickly, sharply:"Remorse is for the weak.The strong do not regret—they plan and execute."
Gilderoy stared at the words for a long time. He didn't seem moved; on the contrary, his smile widened slightly.– "I won't argue with you on that now, for that's not my question. What I mean is… haven't you ever wished for another chance? To be born into a family that cares for you, away from the orphanage?In a peaceful place, with no war, no bombs falling on your roof every evening?To have companions you trust… not followers who bow to you?"
Silence fell. Then the ink exploded:"I never and will never wish for any of that.Wishing… is for the weak.The orphanage taught me the truth.And the war—the war showed me what I want.I don't need friends, I need followers.I am Lord Voldemort."
I didn't hesitate, and I said quietly:– "Really, Tom? Are you being sincere now?"
One word was written:"Of course."
I laughed a short, sarcastic laugh.– "Hmm… seems you're deceiving yourself now."
The response came quickly this time, as if the pages themselves were gasping:"What do you mean?I am Lord Voldemort; I don't need to deceive myself."
– "But you do. Because I—unfortunately—was smarter than you expected, and I did my homework.I know you were born in the muggle orphanage, during wartime, under the administration of a corrupt woman named Mrs. Cole, who stole donations and left the children fighting for food.And you were weak at first. You were beaten, your food was taken, your only toy was yanked from your hands.Until a day came… and your magic awoke.And you became… instead of the victim, the executioner."
The diary did not reply.
– "Then you came to Hogwarts, thinking you'd found paradise.But you discovered that pureblood mattered more than genius.And that the new bullies needed no muscles, only magical lineage.And Slughorn, your head of house, ignored everything.Because the bullies were pureblood.And you… were not."
The pages remained still, no ink stirring.
– "And when it was time to return for the holidays… Dumbledore refused to leave you in the wizarding world.He gave you a ticket back to the orphanage, to the war, to fear.You, the only child he knew might die in his sleep from a muggle bomb that wasn't even meant for you."
A heavy silence. But this time, it was not ignorance or dismissal.It was a wounded silence, familiar, aged but still painful.
– "You know, Tom?A philosopher once said we're all born as one self.But environment shapes us.If we split the same person in two, each half left in a different world, they'd become two entirely different people."
I stood and closed the diary slowly.
– "And I'm here… to give you a new environment.A chance. A fresh start.I'm not here to erase you, Tom… but to show you how you can be reshaped."
Then the ink appeared on its own, as if that voice inside had been waiting for years:"Why do you want to help me?And how will you do that?"
Lockhart considered the question, then smiled. It wasn't a happy smile, but tired, realistic.– "I could say I want to end Voldemort forever…Or that I can't bear to see a child suffer like that again…Or that I believe in second chances…But the truth?It's just a whim."
The response appeared in the diary quickly, and signs of disbelief jumped from every letter:"Just a whim?!"
Lockhart laughed, sarcastically:– "Yes, just a whim.I know it's hard to believe… but it's the truth."
"Then what's the cost? And how will you do it?"Tom wrote in the diary.
– "There is no cost. Don't worry."
Lockhart replied calmly as the ink appeared again:"I do this on a whim. You don't have to pay anything."
"And how will we do this?"
– "We'll alter your memories."
No reply appeared. No new words. Tom must have expected that in advance.But Lockhart didn't stop:
– "Don't worry, we won't wipe everything. We'll temporarily seal your original memories.Then we'll activate rituals I've invented—rituals that steal memories from a fictional alternate timeline created by the rituals themselves.Those memories will be planted in the sealed place.The seal will end automatically when you turn thirty."
He tilted his head slightly, then asked calmly:– "Do you have any objections so far?"
The words appeared on the page:"No problem so far."
– "Good. In this alternate world… I'll be your adoptive father.I adopted you from Wood orphanage when you were two years old, before the bullying started."
"Why Wood orphanage? Why not any other orphanage?"The words were ordinary—but Lockhart felt something strange… a suppressed, hidden sadness leaking between the lines.
– "Because it's better for the alternate world to be as close as possible to reality.The more realistic it is, the more successful the rituals will be."He said it without expression, as if talking about a complex potion recipe.
– "Anyway, let's continue.In the illusory world, you'll show your first accidental magic at age eight.You'll begin home schooling at eleven but will remain confined at home for a year and a half due to magical rituals that enhance your innate talents."
He paused for a moment, then continued:
– "Is there any problem with that?"
Simple words appeared on the page:"No problem. Continue."
Lockhart sat more comfortably, then said:
– "Let's talk about the upbringing style I gave you:I taught you not to deprive yourself of anything. To be confident, not beneath anyone.You have a monthly allowance to spend as you wish.But at the start of each month, I review your spending.If your expenses were useful, your allowance increases.And if they were consumptive or harmful—like high-fat fast food—it decreases.I taught you not to belittle anyone, regardless of blood status.And if you do something wrong—like bullying someone—you'll stand in the corner for thirty minutes without a break.If you repeat the mistake a second time, your budget shrinks.And in the third, you lose your entire allowance… and receive a physical punishment."
He paused, then Tom's words appeared on the page:
"Be honest with me… if I had a problem with your parenting style, would you really change it?"
Lockhart smiled simply, without hesitation:
– "No, I'd just give you the illusion of freedom."
"Then… no."The page wrote simply.And Lockhart was sure Tom's anger boiled behind that single word.
– "Anyway, as soon as the year and a half of confinement—which is supposed to be over—ends, I'll take you to Hogwarts.There, the memories of the alternate world will end."
The words appeared:"When do we begin?"
– "The memory ritual components are ready at my home, but the body-building ritual components are not yet.Once I have them, we'll begin.Until then, I'll seal you with the seals, and I'll lift the seal before the rituals start."
"Why? I thought we had an agreement."Lockhart smiled sarcastically as he wrote:
– "We do, Tom.But don't think I'll lessen my caution toward you… until after the rituals are complete.Good night, Tommy."
The diary remained silent for a long moment… before words appeared slowly, as if pulled from the shards of a wounded soul:
"Good night… Father."
And for just a single, fleeting moment, Lockhart felt some warmth in those words.Then he closed the diary, sealed it, and placed it in the inner pocket of his coat, next to his personal journal.
Time Skip
First-, second-, and third-year students sat gathered in the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom—an unusual scene. It wasn't normal to combine different years into one lesson, but Professor Lockhart asked for it himself.
Hermione Granger sat in the front row, clutching her notebook as if ready for a historical lecture.To her right, Ron Weasley yawned in boredom, while Harry Potter sat in the center, his eyes shifting between Lockhart and the walls—something in the air felt unsettling.
Facing them sat Draco Malfoy, slouched in his desk, pretending indifference but paying close attention.Behind him, Theodore Nott and Blaise Zabini whispered quietly, their gazes flicking between the students and the door.Among other faces were: Morag Macdougal from third-year Ravenclaw, Ernie Macmillan from second-year Hufflepuff, and Terry Boot from first-year—each displaying expressions ranging from curiosity to concern.
Then the door to the classroom burst open gently, and Gilderoy Lockhart entered with quick, energetic steps, his robe adorned with faded golden designs, and a broad smile everyone knew.
He stood in front of the board and waved theatrically like a star on stage.He spoke loudly:– "Good morning, class! I hope this will be a good day for all of you."He paused, then continued in the same tone:– "And for those who don't know me—though I doubt anyone here does not—I'm Gilderoy Lockhart,Professional author and adventurer,Recipient of the Third Class Order of Merlin,Honorary member of the Defense Against the Dark Arts Society,And your teacher this year for this great subject!"
He smiled his widest, then added half-seriously:– "By the way… wish me I don't end up like the teachers who came before me!"
Several students exchanged glances, and some stifled a laugh, while Hermione clapped quietly by herself.
At the moment Lockhart turned to the board, he spoke loudly:— "I'm sure most of you—if not all—have heard about the lessons we'll go through in the first stage of Defense Against the Dark Arts."
Immediately, Hermione Granger raised her hand quickly.— "Go ahead, Miss…"— "Hermione Granger, from Gryffindor."— "Go ahead, Miss Granger."She said eagerly:— "Professor, will you also use time magic on us?"
Lockhart smiled confidently and nodded:— "Unfortunately, no. You're only in the first stage, and your schedules aren't busy enough for me to need to accelerate time for you."
Then he looked at the rest of the room and asked:— "Any questions?"
Hermione raised her hand again.— "Yes, Miss Granger, again?"— "Professor Lockhart, how can you accelerate time? From which book did this spell come?"
Lockhart waved his hand as if telling an entertaining story:— "Ah, excellent question! Actually, Miss Granger, this spell isn't in any Potion book. In fact, it's my invention."
She opened her mouth to speak, but Lockhart cut in quickly:— "Yes, yes, Miss Granger, go ahead."
— "But I've read all your books, and I didn't find any mention or description of this spell."
His smile widened as if he found a new reason to perform:— "A splendid enthusiast, Miss Granger! If I could give points for enthusiasm, I'd award you a hundred points right away, but alas… the rules forbid me.As for the fact you don't find mention of it in my books, that's simply because… it's a secret, personal spell. Of course I won't write about it anywhere."
She raised an eyebrow and asked seriously:— "But why? Shouldn't spells like that be published so everyone can benefit?"
A low laugh came from some Slytherins, and they looked at Hermione with sneers.Some Ravenclaw students exchanged glances of mild disapproval, as if reprimanding her ignorance of accepted norms.Gryffindor row shot back irritated looks to Slytherins.
Lockhart cleared his throat deliberately to defuse the tension:— "Ahem… let me clarify, dear. In our world, spells aren't just magical words to reshape reality.They're heritage.Heritage passed from father to son, from teacher to student, from trainer to trainee.And unless the spell's originator decides to share it… no one will ever know it."
Hermione muttered in annoyance:— "But that's unfair. It hinders the development of magic."
Lockhart flashed a wide unwavering smile:— "That doesn't hinder anything, Miss Granger. Because there's one class in the wizarding world allowed to cross those boundaries—A rare class called 'the Unspoken Ones.'"
Whispers filled the room as he continued:— "They work at the Ministry of Magic, in the Department of Secrets.They're allowed to study any kind of magic, however rare or dangerous.They have full authority to run experiments, not even beholden to the Minister himself.But in return, they're completely forbidden from publishing any magic they obtain without the owner's permission."
Then he added, waving his hand theatrically:— "They're chosen from the smartest of the smart, the most talented witches and wizards of their time.And they, by the way, don't share your concern for fairness."
Silence reigned for a moment, before he concluded with a wry smile:— "That's how the world works, Miss Granger.Some are born poor, and some born rich.Some are born with magic, and others with none."
He looked at the students again and raised his voice:— "Any other questions?… No?Very well then… let's begin the lesson!"
Lesson One – Werewolves
Lockhart turned to the class with a bright, theatrical smile.— "Werewolves! To some, they're savage beasts. To others, tragic figures of romance under the full moon."
— "To me?" he added, placing a hand dramatically on his chest, "They were comrades — in a life-or-death skirmish deep in the Carpathian Mountains."
A few students exchanged skeptical glances. Lockhart simply beamed and went on, his tone lightening:— "But don't worry — I won't be tossing you into the forest today... at least, not just yet!"
A ripple of laughter spread through the room. Even Ron let out a reluctant chuckle.
Lockhart raised his voice slightly, slipping into lecture mode — though still with his usual flair:— "A werewolf, for those unfamiliar, is a human cursed to transform into a wolf-like creature under the full moon.The change is excruciating, and the afflicted rarely retain awareness during the transformation."
With a flick of his wand, a magical illustration appeared on the board — a sketch of a man slowly morphing into a beast, bones cracking, fur sprouting, eyes turning wild.
— "Counter-curses?" he said, pausing for effect. "Terribly complex. But thanks to modern magical advancements, we now have potions that lessen the effects — the most well-known being the Wolfsbane Potion."
He raised his pinky finger as if making an important point, then softened his voice:Lockhart stepped forward, suddenly more solemn.— "Werewolves aren't simply monsters. They are people. Some are victims. Some... heroes. And yes — some are just monsters."
Then, scanning the room with a knowing look, he said:
And their bites are dangerous — extremely dangerous. You see, their saliva or blood, if it enters the bloodstream, carries the curse itself. One bite is enough to turn you into a werewolf too."
He paused dramatically, letting the idea sink in. A few students shifted uneasily in their seats.
— "Of course," he added with a mischievous grin, "if you're quick — quick enough to swallow a Wolfsbane Potion within a minute of the bite — then you've nothing to fear. Well… not much, anyway."
He let out a small, theatrical laugh, clearly enjoying the nervous glances bouncing around the room.— "But don't worry — I doubt any of you will be that unlucky in my class… at least not today!"
Blaise Zabini raised his hand.— "Go ahead, Mr…"— "Blaise Zabini from Slytherin."— "What's your question, Mr. Zabini?"
— "How do we kill a werewolf? Or treat its bite before the infection takes hold?"
Lockhart smiled:— "Excellent question, ten points for Slytherin."
He pointed his wand at the board, where words appeared:Ways to Defend and Deal with Werewolves
— "A werewolf can only be killed like any human—but in wolf form it's stronger and faster, and hard to stop without advanced offensive magic. But, before you think of killing, there's something more important: prevention and treatment."
He moved among the rows lightly, looking at students' faces:— "If someone is bitten by a werewolf in its beastly form—i.e., during a full moon—the curse transfers, and the victim becomes a werewolf too. If bitten at any other time, the harm is purely physical."
Then he raised his finger for emphasis:— "But! During the first few minutes after the bite, the victim can be given a concentrated dose of pure wolfsbane extract mixed with advanced containment magic—this can lessen the curse's effect or prevent full transformation. But it's extremely difficult and requires speed and precision."
"In a no-escape situation… needing to end the encounter?"
He looked at students with shining eyes:— "The answer is always: silver."
He began removing small items from his bag as he enumerated them:— "A silver dagger—if you're brave enough for direct combat.Silver bullet—if you have a wand-holding pistol, though I prefer the wand.Silver mist spray rig—effective on open wounds and very painful to werewolves.And finally—a cloak of dead werewolf fur, used for defense or, if you like, to impress your classmates."
Some chuckled, and Terry Boot whispered: "My mum won't believe this at all."Lockhart waved his wand and the tools disappeared, then he said with a smile:— "Any other questions before we move to the practical part?"
"There's a practical part?!" Ron Weasley exclaimed in surprise.Lockhart smiled widely and said:"Of course! Otherwise how will you find the will to confront a werewolf?"
A tense murmur spread among the students, but he continued reassuringly:"Don't worry, there's no real werewolf here… yet. I'll just transform this table into a werewolf using a transformation spell, and you'll come forward one by one to take the tools: wand, spray, and silver dagger."
He paused, then added more seriously:"I don't ask you to kill it—that challenge is for second-year students. All I want from you is to withstand it for one minute."
He walked in front of the class, then announced:"Each house will split into teams, making eight groups. Each group will try to hold on for one full minute."
He then approached the table, smiling, and winked at them:"To give you extra motivation… this is your final exam. Whoever succeeds gets the top grade: one hundred. Whoever fails… only fifty."
Then he turned to the class and asked with fierce enthusiasm:"Which group goes first?"
Lockhart stood in the center of the room, wearing a blue velvet robe, waving his golden wand and saying in a booming voice:"Gryffindor students! You're first to face this challenge—a minute with this ferocious creature. Don't worry, it's not entirely real, just an enchanted old table, but it knows how to roar and scratch!"
Tension was clear on the students' faces as they lined up before the creature, now roaring, its eyes glowing with magical light.Denise Crevey backed away, holding the camera she never parted from:"My God! A once-in-a-lifetime shot!"Ron grabbed her robe: "If you filmed now, it'd be your death shot."
Hermione raised her wand firmly:"It moves predictably! If we spread out and spray from opposite angles, we might scatter it!"Ron: "Any strategy with 'spread' means I become the bait."
Harry darted to the right, moving swiftly, and sprayed a concentrated stream of silver mist at the creature's head. It hesitated for a moment, then turned quickly.Ginny froze, her voice trembling:"This isn't a test… it's a trap!"Neville stood beside her, despite trembling knees:"If it collapses, we'll run together."Seamus shouted:"I'll blow it up!"But his spell launched poorly, ricocheting off a pillar in a blue flash.Dean Thomas yelled:"Stop, you maniac! This isn't fireworks!"
Parvati grabbed Lavender's hand as they whispered:"This is the worst day of my life!"Lavender: "Unless we die, then it'll be the last day."
Then the wolf lunged suddenly toward Ron. He stumbled and fell on his back, then grabbed the silver dagger from the floor, muttering:"I swear I'll give this to my mum and tell her: I thought it was a party!"
Hermione shouted:"Now! All together!"
In one moment, they released the mist from all sides. Silver vapor filled the hall, the creature's roar rose then faltered as it staggered and collapsed to the floor.A heavy silence.Then... thunderous applause from students on the sidelines.
Lockhart smiled in amazement, then said in his theatrical voice:"Wonderful! A heroic epic! Chaos… but chaos with true Gryffindor spirit! You all succeeded!"
Lockhart stood at the platform's edge, his smile less mocking this time:"Now, Slytherin students! It's your turn… a minute before this beast. If you hold on, you get the full grade."
The werewolf's eyes glowed blue, like a lurking predator.As they approached, no one spoke.Not even Draco Malfoy—his hand steady on his wand, but his eyes fixed on the creature with suspicion.Theo whispered:"We'll attack from three sides… anyone with a spray, hold position."His voice was calm, but overly controlled, as if hiding something.Crab and Goyle stood by the wall, hesitant.Millicent stared at the wolf without blinking, as though trying to remember if her breathing was steady.Daphne whispered to Tracey while she readied the silver dagger:"Just imagine it's an exercise… not real."Tracey didn't reply, but gripped her wand silently.
Then the beast lunged.It roared and darted toward Hannah and Ernie, who split quickly.Susan released a flash of light at its feet, but it didn't stop.Justin shouted:"Right! Move right!"Zachary sprayed wildly, hitting only air…Tobias shouted:"Aim your angle! It's not a hose!"Clare positioned herself on the opposite side, saying firmly:"Now! Middle trio, forward, spray volley!"
Hannah, Susan, and Megan rushed together, each spraying a powerful burst at its face, confusing it.Ernie moved from the side and cast a binding charm on the beast's legs.Leslie shouted:"Don't move!"Then cast her first-ever spell… striking the wolf's leg.Jordan closed his eyes and sprayed the rest of the mist all at once.
The beast halted.Then leaned aside… then collapsed.
Lockhart raised his eyebrows, then applauded:
"Spectacular. You didn't run… you didn't brag… you only did what was needed. Slytherin, you succeeded in silence, befitting your house."
Students exchanged brief looks, but no one spoke.Draco corrected his robe collar quietly.Blaise looked at the floor only.Tracey exhaled, unaware she was holding her breath.
Ravenclaw
"You lot—go ahead, Ravens of knowledge."
Michael Corner murmured:"His right leg's weaker than the left… you can see it in the stance."Susan Chang said softly:"If it attacks from the right, we'll move in an arc toward the wall."Ethan stood closer to the front, wand at the ready, not showing tension, but said without looking:"If it gets within a metre, use the silver glow… nothing else."Orla took a deep breath and Ryan whispered:"Focus on timing, not the wolf."Mandi stood near Celine and asked in a shaky voice:"Do you think we… will succeed?"Celine opened the spray bottle, replied:"Yes. If we don't get flustered."Liana raised her hand and said calmly:"I'll watch your back. Don't forget to breathe."
Then…the wolf lunged!Its roar was louder than expected, making Ryan step back two paces, but Terry Boot stepped forward immediately and released the first flash of mist.Kevin circled behind and cast a shaking charm that disrupted the wolf.Michael fired a light at its eyes, making it pause, then attack Anthony.Ethan blocked it with a strong repelling spell, while Liana sprayed from above.Susan and Celine stepped forward together, waving their wands in unison.Celine:"Now!"Two bursts of spray cut across the wolf.Orla froze for a moment, then cast a slow spell making the creature stumble in its steps.
Time passed… slowly… but with precise coordination.Finally…it collapsed stiffly to the ground.
Lockhart clapped in astonishment:"I never expected this! Coordination? Yes. Automatic movements? Definitely. Hufflepuff… you weren't just nice. You were… successful!"
Some students laughed from the tension.Clare sighed:"We could have mess it up with fear… great that we held firm."Ernie smiled at his colleagues:"That… was a pure Hufflepuff victory."
After everyone returned to their seats, Lockhart stood by the podium and said in a jovial tone:"Woooohooo! Class dismissed!"
He said it while waving his wand and returning the table to its normal shape, while the scent of silver spray and suppressed tension lingered in the air.
Then he straightened up, chin raised in pride, and said:"And because you showed a fair amount of bravery and cooperation, I'm delighted to announce… twenty points to each house!"
Sudden uproar filled the hall:From the Gryffindor table, applause rose, followed by Ron Weasley's enthusiastic voice:"Well done, Hermione! I thought the spray would kill me, but in the end it hit the beast!"Hermione didn't laugh, but replied quickly as she tugged her hair a bit:"The spray was aimed perfectly— you were just in the wrong place as usual!"Harry smiled lightly, then stared at the table that had been a werewolf only minutes ago, saying:"Strange… I thought that was the end of it."
RavenclawNo cheers, but serene satisfaction in their faces.Susan Chang closed the spray and tucked her hair behind her ear as she said to Terry:"I think we handled that quietly well."Anthony Goldstein added:"If participation points counted too, we'd have more."
HufflepuffTheir celebration was sincere but simple.Hannah Abbott looked at her classmates in amazement:"Did they actually give us points?"Ernie Macmillan nodded, in his usual formal tone:"Yes, our performance was decent. I acknowledge that."Justin laughed:"And I hope we won't face something eight‑legged in the real exam."
Slytherin cornerSide glances were calm.Draco Malfoy muttered as he returned his wand to his pocket:"Twenty points only? After all that?"Theodore Nott said flatly:"At least we didn't lose our nerve like the others."Blaise Zabini, as usual, said nothing, just gave a small nod.
Once everyone calmed down, Lockhart raised his voice again from the center of the hall:"Well done! That was an excellent warm-up for the final exam!"
Harry, wearing his robe, stopped suddenly and turned:"What? Wasn't that the final exam?"Lockhart, showing some dramatic enthusiasm, replied:"Of course not, Mr. Potter! That was a warm-up for the final exam."
Harry, stunned:"But… you said it was the final exam!"Lockhart tilted his head and said confidently:"I said it was a final exam—that's a general expression. The real final exam… that's another matter entirely!"Then he waved his hand theatrically:"See you in the next lecture!"
He left, his cloak swishing behind him, leaving the whole class in a state of intellectual freeze.
Harry looked at the door, then at Ron and said:"That was just a warm-up?"Ron, sitting on the edge of the table:"Good… so in the real exam they'll send a creature the size of a bus at us?"Hermione, organizing her notes:"That's good, actually. Now we know what to expect."Ron looked at her:"You're the only one who thinks fighting a werewolf is a helpful practice."
And so the lesson ended…and anxiety began.
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15,510 words completed. See you next week.