Chapter 208: Tom's Script, Tom Unhinged
"Um, Tom, you said there was one ingredient missing—what is it?"
Lockhart's question echoed slowly through the Chamber of Secrets.
Tom, however, shook his head gently, answering without answering.
"'Tom'—I do not like that name. Hmm, do not bother with the wand in your pocket; your magical skill is far too poor."
Hearing this merciless blow from his "friend," Lockhart's face stiffened. For a moment, he had no idea how to respond.
Tom continued speaking as if Lockhart weren't there, stepping toward the cauldron and fanning the aroma of the potion. His form was so solid it hardly resembled a mere soul.
"Gilderoy, this time has actually been rather pleasant. I occasionally feel grateful that a wealthy wizard like you obtained the diary, capable of acquiring restorative items such as dragon blood, hmm…"
He swept his hand over the flames at the bottom of the cauldron, letting them burn hotter.
"I am also rather pleased that you are a fool, a rather overambitious and inept fool, consumed with a desire for fame not rightfully yours…"
"This gave me the perfect opening to beguile you, hehe. Aren't you curious why you trust me so completely, why you obey so unquestioningly?"
Lockhart's face drained of colour.
Tom let out a soft laugh and snapped his fingers, breaking the magic that had restrained Lockhart. Instantly, Lockhart's handsome features were overtaken by fear and pallor. He trembled backward.
"You… you…"
Tom inspected the potion's progress, entirely unconcerned that his back was exposed to Lockhart. His voice remained calm.
"Perhaps young wizards lack the skill to obtain restorative items for me. Adult wizards might detect my mind-bewitching magic. Gilderoy Lockhart, how fortuitous that someone could bypass both these points?"
Tom turned, a smirk of mocking amusement on his handsome face, and stepped toward Lockhart with deliberate grace.
"Ah, those black magic 'mists' should have dissipated. Did you notice anything amiss? For example, why would you so easily trust a diary that is likely a black magic item? For example, is the basilisk truly under your control, and what is it doing in the castle now? For example, why did I advise you to target Harry Potter as the ultimate goal? For example…"
Each syllable Tom spoke struck Lockhart's mind like a hammer.
"Ha—ha—"
Heavy, ragged breaths escaped Lockhart as the old diary slipped helplessly from his hands.
Suddenly, Tom's form flickered like a wraith, appearing directly beside Lockhart. One hand rested on Lockhart's shoulder, radiating bone-chilling cold.
"Not running yet?"
At those words, Lockhart bolted, abandoning all composure and dignity.
As he fled, a Memory Charm shot from under his armpit toward Tom at incredible speed.
"Whish!"
Tom's figure instantly disintegrated into black smoke, allowing the charm to pass harmlessly through.
A cold, playful voice sounded.
"Your Memory Charm is impressive. At least the casting speed rivals a skilled duellist. Tsk, tsk—if only you trained your other spells instead of thinking only about theft and deception every day."
Lockhart's steps faltered. His wand dropped, and he clutched his chest.
"Cough—cough—cough—"
A violent coughing fit overtook him. Lockhart collapsed to his knees, as if he might cough up his lungs.
Tom reformed beside him, crouching and patting his back with a friendly air.
Yet his words were ice-cold.
"Didn't you write in your book that using black magic items comes at a cost? I instructed you to gather items rich in life force, like dragon blood, so the diary's price is easy to guess. All you need to pay is your life."
"Cough—"
Lockhart's coughing eased slightly. His gaze fell to his hand, where signs of ageing had already appeared.
Tom reached into Lockhart's pocket, retrieved his wand and a small vial, and walked toward the cauldron.
"The world will forever remember you: in the winter of 1992, Gilderoy Lockhart opened the Chamber of Secrets, unleashed the basilisk, and slaughtered students—your crimes shall be etched into eternity."
"The Boy Who Lived, the saviour of the wizarding world, Harry Potter—dead."
"The greatest wizard of the century, Headmaster of Hogwarts, Albus Dumbledore—disgraced, stripped of office, and imprisoned."
"This is the ending I have written, my friend—tell me, do you like it?"
As Tom whispered, murky tears ran down Lockhart's cheeks, dropping onto his bark-like hands.
Lockhart's blurred vision caught a flash of gold.
Tom returned to the cauldron, unscrewed the vial, and recalled Lockhart's initial question.
"The final ingredient you missed was dragon blood. Add it, and the potion to stimulate magical energy will…"
"Tap-tap-tap—"
Steady footsteps suddenly echoed in the Chamber. Tom instinctively stopped.
A calm voice completed his sentence.
"Add dragon blood, and the potion to stimulate magical energy becomes a potion to restore the body."
After a pause, the guiding voice continued.
"Sixteen millilitres of dragon blood is ideal; more or less will affect the result."
Tom slowly turned to face the source of the voice.
It was a boy who did not appear much older than him.
The once-cold Chamber seemed alive again with the presence of this sudden arrival.
Tom's eyes narrowed. The tone of instruction reminded him unpleasantly of facing Dumbledore years ago.
He noticed the glasses perched on the boy's nose, and a hint of a guess formed. His dark eyes squinted.
"Harry Potter, to have found your way here so quickly—impressive. You truly are worthy of being my opponent."
Tom's words silenced the Chamber.
It was the silence of pure awkwardness.
"Le-Leonardo…"
Lockhart's weak, aged voice broke the quiet. He lifted his head with effort, his murky eyes meeting Leonardo's.
"I was wrong… wrong. Go, tell… tell the Headmaster…"
Previously, when Tom resided in the diary, he had shown little interest in Leonardo, only asking a few questions about Harry. He had not examined Leonardo's appearance carefully.
Now, Lockhart no longer cared about Tom's mistaken identification. Whoever, just get the information to the Headmaster and professors.
Leonardo glanced at Lockhart and roughly understood why Tom had misidentified him.
Without replying, he simply regarded Tom calmly.
"Why are you not continuing the potion?"
Leonardo had seen the potion's formula in Lockhart's office. After some experimentation, he had discerned the pattern.
Adding a single ingredient would transform the potion into something entirely different.
Tom was indeed a genius.
He had clearly learned much from his Potions professor, Slughorn.
Tom smiled slightly.
"This is not urgent, Leonardo. Rarely do I meet a talent as outstanding as you. Truly a surprise."
His expression and tone no longer carried the awkwardness from the misidentification.
"I am especially curious how you evaded the basilisk's attack and still reached this place."
As he spoke, Tom tried to sense the basilisk's presence.
But he gained nothing.
Thud!
A heavy object rolled in the Chamber, landing before Tom. Its surface blackened, with green scales, bright yellow eyes, and a scarlet crest…
The basilisk's head.
Leonardo flicked his left hand.
"Looking for the basilisk?"
Tom's gaze toward Leonardo instantly filled with shock, anger, and a trace of fear.
Leonardo had thrown the basilisk's head.
A boy younger than him had slain the basilisk?
How could it be possible?
Its deadly gaze, its formidable physique, its corrosive venom…
How could a mere wizard resist?
Yet Leonardo had severed its head.
How long had the basilisk been active? Was it already dead?
Even many professors could not have done it in so little time. Only Dumbledore… but Tom had deliberately waited until Dumbledore was absent from Hogwarts.
Was Dumbledore still at school?
A volley of questions bombarded Tom's mind like cannon fire.
Black smoke seeped from Tom's form, reflecting the turbulence in his soul.
Leonardo stepped forward and spoke calmly:
"Continue brewing. What's wrong? Afraid I'm an Animagus—slipping into Lockhart's office in animal form to tamper with the dragon blood… or something else?"
At those words, the air turned cold again.
Tom found the idea absurd. Yet…
An Animagus at this age?
No. If Leonardo had truly slain the basilisk, then it wasn't impossible.
And even if he wasn't—there were other ways he could have entered Lockhart's office…
Tom's gaze flicked to the vial of dragon blood in his hand, then to the cauldron.
"Hmph. No need to deceive me. The ingredients are fine; I can see that."
Leonardo nodded and stepped a few paces closer.
"Very well, continue."
This caused Tom to hesitate.
After a brief moment of excitement, he regained composure. He could not afford interference while reconstructing his body.
No matter what, Tom could not brew or consume the potion in front of Leonardo.
Forget it. First, eliminate Leonardo.
With that thought, Tom surged his magical energy toward Lockhart's wand.
The Eyes of Magic constantly monitored Tom. Leonardo sensed the flux of power in the soul and tightened his right hand around his wand, an additional object appearing in his left.
"Ah!!!"
A piercing, agonised scream came from Tom. Strangely, his mouth remained closed, and black smoke rippled over his form.
Leonardo approached the diary, holding the Gryffindor Sword slanted in his left hand. Basilisk venom dripped from its edge onto the diary.
Pain surged through Tom, black smoke swirling around him. He could feel the life force preserved in his soul rapidly dissipating.
The agony nearly made him drop his wand; his body staggered.
"Wait, wait—we—we can cooperate…"
"You are so skilled, I… ah!!!"
Leonardo lightly shook the Gryffindor Sword. More venom dripped onto the diary, rising in white smoke.
"You cannot touch the diary in your current soul form?"
Tom covered a dimmed eye, his handsome features twisted in pain.
He was subdued by Leonardo's relentless actions and words, failing to notice Leonardo approaching the diary.
Until he regained a complete body, Tom could not manipulate the diary as the Horcrux's true vessel.
Though Tom appeared weak and pained, Leonardo did not relent.
He had never intended a direct confrontation. Absorbing too much life force, Tom's state was optimal; fighting directly would be time-consuming and exhausting.
The fire from the gilded disc temporarily blocked sight. Leonardo needed to finish quickly.
As long as Tom had no body, the diary—hosting his soul fragments—remained a vulnerability.
"I have… Salazar Slytherin's legacy. I can share… share knowledge with you…"
A hoarse voice struggled out of Tom's mouth, trying to delay Leonardo.
"Salazar Slytherin legacy knowledge…"
Leonardo's expression flickered with interest.
Seeing this, Tom's eyes gleamed. He drew breath, preparing to speak again—
"Ah—!!!"
A shrill, agonised scream tore from him.
Half-kneeling, Tom's form convulsed as black smoke surged outward, only to dissipate the moment it left him.
"You damned Mudblood!"
Tom raised his head, eyes burning with hatred, a streak of light slicing across his face.
Leonardo slowly drew the silver sword across the diary's cover, the streak of light extending, slicing through Tom's smoke-shrouded soul.
This did not destroy the Horcrux. Leonardo's goal was to weaken Tom to the extreme, preventing further interference temporarily.
Having one intact Horcrux as a reference would save much trouble locating the others.
Leonardo had yet to determine how to utilise the connections between soul fragments, but it did not matter. Dumbledore and Professor Nicolas were available for consultation.
Hiss—
Cold magical energy suddenly erupted from Tom's soul!
Suppressing the pain from his soul injury, Tom burned his remaining life force, converting it into temporary magic.
Reconstructing his body could wait. First priority: deal with Leonardo.
Hum—
Vast magical energy surged around Leonardo.
Lightning runes gleamed. A faint aura of pressure accompanied the magical surge, filling the Chamber instantly.
The next instant, both lethal strikes would collide.
"You have come, heir of Slytherin…"
A distant, ancient voice echoed through the Chamber, as if spanning time itself.