BOOM!
The basilisk's body crashed into the ground again, shattering stone and sending rocks and dust flying. Harry rolled frantically to the side.
His body was already exhausted from the previous sprint, and although the basilisk's repeated strikes hadn't truly hit him, the flying debris had left bloody marks all over his body.
Struggling to stand, Harry surveyed the wide room. The floor was already covered in cracks. Determining the basilisk's direction by shadow had become extremely difficult.
However, this time he didn't feel much despair, only because his chest badge constantly transmitted voices.
George: "Is everyone here? I'm planning to go down first! A basilisk—I haven't seen one yet!"
Gemma: "I'm still on the first floor. Filch must have been drawn away by the earlier tremor. The upstairs path is clear."
Daphne: "Gemma, wait for me! Cedric and I will reach the first floor soon—"
Percy: "Stop making noise. Everyone confirm you're wearing your anti-basilisk lenses properly. I'll say this in advance—Professor Sprout's Mandrakes won't mature for another half month. If anyone goes in and accidentally looks at the basilisk's eyes, be prepared to lie in the hospital for half a month!"
"However, if the basilisk is right in front of you, then open your eyes and look. Being petrified by the basilisk is better than being poisoned by it."
"Got it, got it! I'm going down first!" Fred's voice carried obvious excitement. Then Harry heard a whooshing sound, followed by the sound of a body tumbling through pipes and Wood's angry cursing.
"Why are you running so fast? Wait for me!"
"Let's go down too. Ron, Hermione, you two stay up—" Percy hadn't finished speaking when Harry felt two more sliding sounds in the pipe.
"—Can't you follow instructions?"
"We'll follow instructions after we get down! Bye!"
Hearing the voices constantly coming through the badge, Harry's chest filled with warmth, and he gripped his wand even tighter.
Originally, he had planned to be petrified by this basilisk and wait for professors to find this place.
But now, he had a new goal.
The smell of blood came from the left. In the shadow on the ground, the giant monster opened its mouth wide, seemingly planning to swallow him in one bite.
"Delicious—delicious!"
Hearing the hoarse voice in his ears, determination flashed in Harry's eyes. His wand aimed at a nearby boulder that had been dislodged by the basilisk earlier. The boulder flew up through the air, carried by his wand, and Harry stuffed it toward the gaping maw.
Coming down from the pipe and running through the corridor would take at least two minutes.
Now, he had to hold on for these final two minutes!
"Accio boulder—here's something delicious for you!"
***
The swirl in his eyes gradually dissipated. Looking at Lockhart lying back on the ground like he'd lost his soul, Evans's expression was strange.
Initially, his Legilimency had been reading the soul fragment lurking in Lockhart's body. But perhaps feeling he had no ability to escape, after only reading a small segment of memories, that soul fragment very decisively scattered its own consciousness and left Lockhart's body.
For a soul fragment in a Horcrux, doing this was equivalent to temporarily abandoning self-awareness. If the Horcrux housing the soul still existed, consciousness would be reborn in the Horcrux, but this would take a very long time.
But if the Horcrux were destroyed, this soul fragment would never exist again.
After the Horcrux's consciousness dissipated, his Legilimency directly read Lockhart's own memories.
This look was no small matter—he really discovered many interesting things.
Now he finally knew how those books were written.
"What's wrong? What did you see?" Seeing Evans's strange expression, Professor Flitwick asked curiously.
"Hmm—not easy to describe." Maintaining his strange expression, Evans reached into his pocket, rummaged around, and pulled out a shallow stone basin.
The basin's edge was inscribed with a circle of runic symbols. Inside was empty.
But after Evans touched his temple with his wand and drew a silvery thread into the basin, silver-white liquid appeared in the previously empty basin.
Looking at the stone basin pushed before him, Professor Flitwick felt somewhat strange but still put away his wand, jumped onto a chair, gripped the table edge with both hands, and plunged his face into the basin.
About a minute later, he suddenly raised his head, looking at Lockhart lying on the ground, his eyes carrying anger and deep contempt.
In that brief time, he had experienced over a dozen memories. Each memory was a pleasant interview, but at the end of each memory, those suddenly dull eyes made him feel furious.
Especially since the protagonist of one memory segment was someone he knew very well.
"I wondered why Julian became somewhat strange starting two years ago. I thought he was getting old and his mind wasn't clear."
"So that's what happened!"
He jumped down from the chair, seemingly planning to beat that person again.
Seeing this, Evans quickly stopped him.
"Don't worry, Professor. He left plenty of evidence. He'll probably spend the rest of his life in Azkaban."
Having said this, Evans glanced at the old man nearby, who had recovered his original appearance.
As for this one, the interrogation results weren't actually complicated.
Just a pitiful person who, because of his grandmother's death, gradually fell into a trap, was eventually forced into a mental breakdown, and became trapped at Voldemort's side.
But pitifulness couldn't cover the crimes he'd committed in this life.
Shaking his head, Evans found a chair nearby to sit down and slightly closed his eyes.
In his consciousness, a blurry map gradually formed, showing silver-white light spots appearing one after another.
Already all at the lake bottom? Pretty fast.
From when he opened that test function on the badge until now, barely five minutes had passed. To be fully assembled in five minutes—these young wizards weren't sleeping at all?
It was nearly 1 AM, and they were not sleeping—could they really get up for class the next day?
After glancing at the badge positions, Evans stood up again, planning to contact a certain unreliable headmaster who said he'd call him later. Letting students violate several school rules late at night—there was no headmaster more unreliable than him.
But before he could pull out the device to contact Dumbledore, a voice suddenly rang in his ear.
The voice sounded somewhat helpless but seemed to carry some relief.
"I originally planned to have Fawkes help him peck out that basilisk's eyes, then give him a better weapon to see if he could handle that basilisk alone."
"Your interference messed up all my previous arrangements."
"But this is fine too." Dumbledore's voice paused, then entered Evans's ears again.
"Everything's arranged. Bring Mr. Smith over. We should complete tonight's most important matter."
"And don't you want to see with your own eyes how those young wizards deal with the basilisk?"