Author's Note: Don't forget to vote, comment and leave a 5 star review to help the story grow and reach more people.
Read upto +30 Chapters worth of content ahead and receive extra updates daily by going to my Patreon and becoming a fellow Patreon.
By reaching 50 paid Patreons, I will make writing my full time job, guaranteeing more consistent updates and more extra chapters daily.
Patreon: mrfanfiction140
Be sure to read my other Novels as well:
- Naruto: Multiverse Adventures
- One Piece: Multiverse Shop.
----
Lockhart returned to his office, which was covered in self-portraits, in a huff.
He grabbed the diary on his desk that had become his "bosom friend," pulled out his quill, and began to pour out his frustrations onto it, his handwriting a bit messier than usual.
It was filled with complaints about "ungrateful students," "audiences lacking appreciation," and the "always scene-stealing savior."
Lord Voldemort inside the diary "watched" these resentful words, his heart long since numb.
Over this period, he had long grown accustomed to the superficiality and vanity of this "Defense Against the Dark Arts professor."
To maintain this hard-won "source of energy" and channel of control, he had to suppress his disgust and skillfully play the role of the perfect flatterer.
Lockhart finally stopped writing and waited for a response.
(My beloved, radiant Professor Gilderoy Lockhart!
Please do not trouble yourself with the short-sightedness of the ignorant... Your brilliant image, full of wisdom and courage, has long been like the most dazzling star, deeply etched into the hearts of those who truly know how to appreciate... (Three hundred words of similar metaphors omitted here)
...Those tiny ripples are but a different shade of color added to your legendary career.
Please believe that your greatness needs no proof to anyone. The night is late; please set aside these trivial worries for now and rest peacefully.
When tomorrow's dawn once again illuminates the spires of Hogwarts, everything will surely be better, and you will surely win everyone's attention and applause with an even more dazzling posture.)
This heap of praise instantly smoothed the wrinkles in Lockhart's brain.
He was elated as he read it, a look of intoxication reappearing on his face, as if he truly saw his "even more dazzling" tomorrow.
He even wrote, moved:
(Oh, my dear Tom! You always understand and comfort me so well!
It's a pity you're just a memory without a physical form; otherwise, you could witness and feel firsthand how I display that unparalleled grace and wisdom before everyone!
What an unforgettable scene that would be!)
Lord Voldemort felt a wave of speechlessness and nausea... This fool was beyond saving.
The man and the Horcrux "conversed happily" for a long time, mainly with Lockhart unilaterally depicting the grand scenes of his fantasies, while Voldemort racked his brains to use various metaphors to echo those fantasies.
Finally, after Voldemort "tactfully" hinted at a lack of energy again, Lockhart readily contributed some more of his blood, then climbed into bed and fell fast asleep, filled with expectations of "reclaiming his glory" tomorrow.
Lockhart was resting, but Voldemort's work had only just begun.
Only Lockhart's steady breathing could be heard in the office.
On the desk, the pages of the diary flipped rapidly once more.
On the bed, Lockhart's tightly closed eyes suddenly snapped open, but his expression was stiff and cold—completely different from his usual self.
The controlled "Lockhart" sat up mechanically, got out of bed, went straight to the desk, and clutched the diary tightly in his hand.
His movements were somewhat stiff, but he walked out of the office with a clear objective, passing through the corridors and finally entering an abandoned girls' bathroom on the second floor—Moaning Myrtle's domain.
"Lockhart" faced the tap engraved with a small snake, opened his mouth, and hissed: "Open."
With that command, the tap suddenly emitted a brilliant white light and began to spin rapidly.
Immediately after, the entire sink moved, revealing a dark pipe entrance behind it. The edges of the entrance were slick and slimy, smelling of stale water and the peculiar stench of some animal.
Before long, a heavy scraping sound came from deep within the pipe, and a massive shadow slowly rose.
Then, a huge snake head emerged from the hole. It flicked its scarlet tongue and let out an impatient hiss:
"Hiss~ Hiss... (Get lost! I said I didn't want to work! You again!)"
The Basilisk's words were filled with the grumpiness of being woken from a deep sleep and resentment toward "going to work."
"Lockhart" ignored the Basilisk's complaints and issued the command:
"Hiss... (Go and purge the mudbloods in the school. This is your duty.)"
In the library, William finally closed the book Simple Applications of Transfiguration and breathed a sigh of satisfaction.
He habitually pulled out the mobile phone from his pocket and glanced at the screen for the time—good grief! It was already so late, less than a quarter of an hour until curfew!
Only then did William realize, with a shock, that he had actually missed both lunch and dinner, and his stomach was growling.
He quickly packed up his books, deciding to go to the kitchen to find something to eat first before hurrying back to the Hufflepuff dormitory.
The corridor was silent, with only his own footsteps and the crackling of the torches on the walls.
Just as William stepped quickly around the corner of a dim corridor, he caught sight of a figure not far ahead, walking in a somewhat peculiar manner. Judging by the back of that flashy robe... was it Lockhart?
What was Lockhart doing sneaking around here so late?
William felt a bit puzzled, but out of politeness, he slowed his pace.
Just then, the "Lockhart" ahead seemed to sense something. He suddenly stopped and... slowly turned his head.
The firelight illuminated "Lockhart's" face.
William instantly felt a chill surge from the soles of his feet to the crown of his head!
There was none of the usual exaggerated smile on that face—only indifference. His eyes were frighteningly hollow, staring straight at him, making the hair on William's body stand on end.
(Lynn: Congratulations! You've learned [Peter's Jolt])
William managed to force a smile and greeted, "G... Good evening, Professor Lockhart."
The corner of "Lockhart's" mouth twitched upward unnaturally, revealing a smile that could only be described as eerie. "Oh~ Good evening... Hehe."
William instinctively wanted to lower his head to avoid that uncomfortable gaze and leave quickly.
However, at the moment his gaze shifted downward—
"Hiss~! Hiss—! (Found you! Kill you!)"
The Basilisk's inner thoughts: Finally off work! Just petrify and leave!
A series of hisses drifted over.
In the faint reflection of his glasses, William vaguely caught a terrifying image—a yellow-glowing... vertical pupil! And a blurry emerald-green shadow!
"Ahhh—!!!"
Half a scream once again tore through the silence of the Hogwarts night, then stopped abruptly.
"Why is it petrification again?" Lockhart was getting a bit impatient.
But this was truly no place to linger. That half-scream might have already attracted the attention of the professors in the castle; he had to get away quickly.
He wasn't afraid of Dumbledore—it was just a strategic retreat.
Yes. That was it.