"Um, Tom, you said one ingredient was missing. What is it?"
Lockhart's question slowly echoed through the Chamber of Secrets.
But Tom gently shook his head and answered irrelevantly:
"'Tom.' I don't like that na. And stop fiddling with the wand in your pocket. Your Magic is terrible."
Hearing the rciless words from his "friend" Tom, Lockhart's expression froze, and for a mont, he didn't know what to do.
But Tom continued speaking to himself. He stepped up to the cauldron and lightly inhaled the dicinal fragrance. His body looked so solid that he barely resembled a soul entity at all.
"Gilderoy, this period has actually been quite pleasant. I occasionally feel fortunate that you, a wealthy Wizard, obtained the Diary and had the ans to purchase highly restorative items like dragon blood for , hmm..."
Tom reached out and brushed his hand over the flas beneath the cauldron, causing them to burn even more fiercely.
"I'm also quite fortunate that you are an incompetent fool. A fool with great ambitions but little talent, desperately craving fa that doesn't belong to you..."
"That gave the perfect 'hook' to manipulate you. Hehe, aren't you curious why you trusted so deeply and obeyed my every command?"
Hearing this, Lockhart's face changed drastically.
Tom chuckled softly, snapped his fingers, and lifted the Magic that had continuously been cast upon Lockhart.
Instantly, Lockhart's handso face turned pale with fear as he trembled and staggered backward.
"You, you..."
Tom checked the progress of the potion, completely unconcerned about exposing his back, as if Lockhart posed no threat at all. He continued speaking leisurely:
"A young wizard would not have the ability to acquire life-replenishing items for , while an adult wizard might detect the Dark Arts I used to cloud the mind. Gilderoy Lockhart, how convenient is it that soone could perfectly avoid both of those problems?"
Tom turned around, a clearly mocking smile appearing on his handso face as he slowly walked toward Lockhart with elegant steps.
"Ah, the 'fog' of the Dark Arts should have dissipated by now. Have you noticed anything wrong?"
"For instance, why did you so easily trust a Diary that was clearly a suspected Dark Arts item? For instance, were you truly controlling the Basilisk, and what is it doing in the castle right now? For instance, why did I suggest that you make Harry Potter your final target? For instance..."
Every word Tom spoke was like a heavy hamr smashing into Lockhart's heart.
"Hoo... hoo..."
Heavy gasps escaped Lockhart's mouth and nose as the old Diary slipped weakly from his grasp.
Suddenly, Tom's figure appeared beside Lockhart like a phantom. He placed a hand on Lockhart's shoulder, radiating bone-chilling coldness.
"Aren't you going to run?"
The mont he heard those words, Lockhart turned and fled wildly, completely forgetting all pretense of composure or dignity.
Just as Lockhart fled in panic, a mory Charm shot out from beneath his armpit and flew toward Tom at incredible speed.
Whoosh!!!
But Tom's figure instantly dissolved into wisps of black smoke, allowing the mory Charm to pass harmlessly through the gaps.
A cold, playful voice rang out:
"Your skill with the mory Charm is quite good. At the very least, your casting speed with this spell is comparable to that of a Dueling Master. Tsk tsk, with that level of effort, why couldn't you spend more ti practicing other Magic instead of constantly thinking about theft and deception?"
Suddenly, Lockhart's steps faltered. His wand fell to the ground as his hand clutched his chest.
"Cough cough... cough cough cough..."
Violent coughing erupted from him, and Lockhart painfully collapsed to his knees, as though he were trying to cough out his lungs.
Tom reford his body, crouched beside Lockhart, and patted his back with the intimacy of a close friend.
But the words he spoke were utterly cold.
"Didn't your books ntion that using Dark Arts items cos with a price? I had you collect items containing vitality, like dragon blood, so the cost of using the Diary should have been easy to guess, shouldn't it? You simply have to pay with your life."
"Cough..."
Lockhart's coughing gradually weakened. His lowered gaze fell upon the back of his hand, now covered in the wrinkles of old age.
Tom reached into Lockhart's pocket, pulled out his wand and a small vial, then stood and walked toward the cauldron.
"The world will rember you forever, Lockhart. Opening the Chamber of Secrets, releasing the Basilisk, slaughtering students, burdened with unforgivable sins."
"The Boy Who Lived, the Chosen One of the Magical World, Harry Potter, dies tragically."
"The greatest Wizard of this century, Hogwarts Headmaster Albus Dumbledore, resigns under pressure and is imprisoned."
"Do you like the ending of the script I wrote for you, my friend?"
As Tom whispered those words, murky tears slid from the corners of Lockhart's eyes and fell onto his hands, which were as withered as tree bark.
In Lockhart's blurry vision, a golden light flashed past and vanished.
Tom returned to the cauldron, unscrewed the cap of the vial, and recalled Lockhart's earlier question.
"I'll tell you now. The ingredient you were missing was dragon blood. Once it is added, the Potion used to stimulate Magic will..."
Da da da.
Steady footsteps suddenly echoed through the Chamber of Secrets, and Tom instinctively stopped moving.
A gentle voice finished the sentence Tom had left incomplete:
"Once dragon blood is added, the Potion used to stimulate Magic will beco a Potion capable of shaping a physical body."
After a brief pause, the voice rang out again, sounding like a tutor patiently instructing a student:
"It's best to add sixteen milliliters of dragon blood. Too much or too little will affect the result."
???
Tom slowly turned around and cast his gaze toward the owner of the voice.
It was a youth who looked very young.
The originally desolate Chamber of Secrets seed to gain vitality because of his sudden appearance.
Tom's eyes narrowed slightly. The other's tone, which sounded like a teacher instructing a student, irritated him greatly, giving him the strange feeling of facing Dumbledore back in the day.
He looked at the glasses perched on the youth's nose and imdiately ford a guess. His dark eyes narrowed further.
"Harry Potter. To find this place so quickly is remarkable. You truly are qualified to be my opponent."
The mont Tom finished speaking, the Chamber of Secrets fell silent.
It was the kind of silence known as awkwardness.
"Lu... Lucien..."
A weak, aged voice ca from Lockhart's mouth. He struggled to raise his head and looked at Lucien with cloudy eyes.
"I was wrong... wrong. Hurry, go tell... tell the Headmaster..."
________
(^///^) Please support this fic and also read 12 chapters ahead at Patreon/DrakDevil1
User Comments
0 comments from readers