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Chapter 45: A Magnificent Comeback
"Why aren't you fighting back? Do you really think you can get away from me?" Lockhart kicked him viciously. Cruciatus! Little Barty rolled on the ground again, but he did not beg for mercy.
At that moment, the commotion drew the attention of the audience. A group of adult wizards flew over, forcing Lockhart to stop his retaliatory attack.
"Gilderoy, what happened? What's wrong with Filch?" Dumbledore was the first to arrive, his voice calm but urgent.
"You don't need to say anything. I know everything, Barty," Lockhart didn't answer Dumbledore directly and kicked Barty again smugly. "From this moment forward, everything you say can be used against you in a court of law!"
"Is he… Barty Jr.?" Everyone present was shocked.
At that moment, Barty's face twisted and slowly reverted to its original form—young, wild, and unhinged. Lockhart had to admit, he was second only to himself in handsomeness, yet Barty showed no hint of despair.
"You think you've won?" Little Barty glared menacingly at Lockhart.
"Still stubborn," Lockhart muttered, raising his foot for another kick, but Dumbledore intervened. "Gilderoy, watch your manners. There are members of the Ministry of Magic present. Leave it to them."
"Fine, let him enjoy the Dementor's kiss," Lockhart said lightly. He didn't care—he had won anyway.
Several Aurors from the Ministry arrived and restrained Barty. He did not resist, but a maniacal smile slowly spread across his face. Minutes passed, and with cunning, he managed to lure the Aurors and teachers away from their posts!
"Hahahahaha!" Barty laughed, exhilaration clear in his voice. He even deliberately mimicked Lockhart's dramatic tone. "Gilderoy Lockhart! Undeniably, you are an excellent and powerful wizard, very intelligent too. No wonder you were re-elected as Defence Against the Dark Arts professor at Hogwarts, but—I win!"
Lockhart felt a chill run down his spine. "What nonsense are you talking about? You've already failed!"
Turning to the Aurors, Lockhart asked sharply, "How's the match going?"
"It's not over yet. We noticed something suspicious here and came over first," Scrimgeour replied calmly.
Little Barty continued laughing: "I delivered Potter's blood to my master! His plan will succeed, he will regain his power, and I will become his most valued wizard!"
"Didn't you see? I froze Harry in place!" Lockhart was completely bewildered, and the others were no less shocked. "Your plan has failed!"
"Thank you for keeping Harry under control! Even a Squib could deal with the Savior easily! Hahahaha…" Barty Jr. taunted, his sarcasm unmistakable.
Lockhart's expression changed drastically. He sensed something was gravely wrong. Instinctively, he pointed his wand at Barty Jr.—Avada Kedavra!
"Stop, Gilderoy," Scrimgeour intervened, stopping the Killing Curse. "Leave it to us."
Lockhart didn't have time to waste arguing. He turned and flew toward the maze. His heart sank to the bottom, yet a glimmer of hope remained. Dumbledore followed closely.
"Gilderoy, what's wrong now?" Dumbledore asked from above.
"I'm afraid that person succeeded, and it's all my fault…" Lockhart gritted his teeth.
When he saw the scene, his heart plummeted—the trophy was gone, Harry and Cedric lay on the ground, and Harry was bleeding.
Dumbledore waved his wand, dispelling the spell on Harry, who immediately jumped up.
"Headmaster… Professor… Filch—" Harry's voice trembled. "He suddenly appeared, cut me with a knife, took my blood, and then grabbed the trophy and disappeared!"
"The trophy was enchanted with a Confundus Charm, turning it into a Portkey to Voldemort's location. Barty Jr. distracted me, and then Filch—who was under the Imperius Curse—took Harry's blood," Lockhart explained, feeling like a walking corpse.
He had never felt so utterly defeated since birth. Completely outmaneuvered by Barty the Younger. Even his apparent capture of Barty had only occurred because Barty was distracted, controlling Filch under the Imperius Curse.
Barty's arrest only made his performance seem more like a hymn of loyalty to Voldemort—an epic display. A loyal servant sacrificing himself to bring victory to his master. Lockhart, meanwhile, was nothing but a supporting character, a bumbling fool in this grand performance.
He had once believed himself the smartest wizard alive, effortlessly manipulating dozens of powerful wizards with Memory Charms. After gaining the memories of his past lives, he considered himself the center of the world, the protagonist. He thought with his brilliance and foresight he could become as great as Dumbledore and as feared as Voldemort.
Now he knew he was wrong. This entire scenario had been beyond his control from the beginning. His attempted plot twists only made Barty's plan more thrilling, more seamless. Even Barty's capture had been part of the plan.
Lockhart's role was merely decoration, enhancing the enemy's victory.
For a proud and intelligent wizard like Lockhart, nothing could wound him more than shattering his confidence. The whole world felt like it was floating away—his fame, his glory, even the girl he loved—mere illusions, all part of the enemy's grand scheme.
"Gilderoy!" Dumbledore, sensing Lockhart's despair, added a calm, soothing charm to his voice. "This is not your fault. No one could have foreseen this plan."
"No. If I had destroyed the trophy, it would have ruined the plan. If I hadn't chased Barty Jr., but stayed to protect Harry…" Lockhart's voice was strained.
Dumbledore sighed, ignoring Lockhart's gaze as he turned to Professor McGonagall.
"McGonagall, what's happening over there?" Dumbledore asked, noting the chaos on the podium.
"Filch was teleported back by that trophy, yelling frantically, 'His master, the Dark Lord is back!' I've knocked him unconscious. Looks like he was hit by a powerful Imperius Curse," McGonagall explained.
"Yes, you handled it well. Now take Harry and Gilderoy back to their rooms to rest. And remember to tell Gilderoy's girlfriend to keep an eye on him—the young lady from the Fudge family."
"What happened to Gilderoy? Was he cursed too?"
"He was simply too proud to accept defeat."
"Voldemort," Harry asked weakly, "is he really back?"
"Harry," Dumbledore said, turning his wise eyes to meet Harry's, "it's probably true."
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