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The moonlight grew thicker.
It poured through the windows into the ancient castle of Hogwarts.
Hermione Granger's footsteps sounded unusually heavy as she walked through its corridors. She had not at all expected to be stopped by Lockhart on her way back to the dormitory.
Nor had she expected the first thing Lockhart asked to be such a terrifying question.
"Miss Granger, Didn't we agree that you would come to my office?" His voice landed like a heavy hammer on her heart, making her feel as if she could barely keep it from leaping out of her chest.
'How could he ask her something like that?'
Wasn't the person who agreed to go to this man's office Professor Snape... well, Snape as played by Hermione? And it certainly wasn't supposed to be tonight.
Professor Lockhart had likely never returned to his office after leaving it—he must have been waiting here the whole time. Facing this handsome yet vain Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, Hermione felt a sudden, inexplicable tension. She tried desperately to remain calm, but inside, she was in turmoil.
Had Lockhart discovered something?
Otherwise, why wait for her here? Why ask such a bizarre question? The young witch clenched her fingers tightly around her robe, her knuckles turning white.
"Why aren't you speaking?"
Lockhart stood right in front of her. His face, usually plastered with exaggerated smiles, was unusually calm now. His blue eyes gleamed with something unreadable.
"I... I really don't know what you're talking about, Professor." Hermione's voice trembled without her realizing it. "I've been in the library all day. I never saw you at all."
That was the excuse she had prepared. After all, she had already missed an entire day of classes that day. If a professor questioned her, she needed a believable explanation.
Just as Ron and Neville had thought earlier, if Hermione had claimed to be sick, overslept, or simply not felt like going to class, neither the professors nor the other students would have believed her.
Those excuses might work for other Gryffindors, but Hermione was seen by everyone as the model student who was obsessed with learning.
Someone might skip class for such reasons, but such a person would absolutely not be Hermione Granger.
She had built that reputation as a study nerd. Therefore, Hermione had to come up with a more fitting excuse.
She had discovered an incredibly fascinating book in the library and lost track of time because of her thirst for knowledge. She had accidentally missed classes. She was certain that most people would believe this excuse.
However, she didn't even get the chance to face the professors and classmates tomorrow.
Because tonight is the night that Hermione realized she might have already been found out.
"Is that so?" Lockhart smiled softly. The sound of his smile made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. He stepped forward, his blond hair glimmering warmly under the torchlight.
Yet somehow, it gave off a dangerous impression.
"You say you didn't run into me earlier. Well, aren't we meeting now?" His voice was light, like a feather brushing against her skin. "Come with me, Miss Granger."
Those words made Hermione even more nervous.
Was she going to be expelled for impersonating a professor? But that was clearly something Snape had told her to do, although he might deny it now.
"What do you need from me?"
Hermione couldn't hide her worry.
She was truly afraid of being expelled.
First-years were always terrified whenever professors threatened them for this reason, children who had just entered the magical world feared losing access to it more than anything.
For those from Muggle families, it was even worse. It was like seeing the wonders of a grand city and then being forced back to a rural village.
"Perhaps even more so."
"Miss Granger," Lockhart said with a smile and his signature confident expression. "You're a clever student. I've always admired your talent."
It sounded like genuine praise.
But...
Hermione instinctively shrugged her shoulders, and a look of awkwardness flashed across her face. "Thank you, Professor."
Her voice trembled slightly; her mind was still filled with questions.
'Why does he want to see me alone?'
'I need to find Snape. Snape can prove that I wasn't pranking or impersonating a professor.'
With that thought, Hermione had a sudden impulse to run back toward the dungeons.
Seeing this, Lockhart let out another gentle laugh. His tone was easy. "Don't be nervous. I only want to talk with you. Come to my office. I am not giving out any punishment for you."
Professor Lockhart seemed to see right through her thoughts.
"Uh..."
Hermione let out a breath of relief.
But not completely.
Seeing Professor Lockhart take the first step forward, she swallowed hard and forced herself to follow. Her feet felt as heavy as lead, but she had no choice but to follow Lockhart through the dim corridor. Countless terrifying possibilities flashed through her mind.
'Had Lockhart found out that she had been impersonating Snape?'
'Had he been secretly watching her this whole time? Or...
A far more horrifying suspicion suddenly arose in her mind...
'What if the previous "invitation" wasn't directed at Snape?'
'What if Professor Lockhart had other intentions toward her?'
"If he realized from the beginning that I was pretending to be Snape, then maybe the invitation was for me, not Snape. Professor Snape probably hasn't realized that either!"
Hiss!
Hermione felt her whole body go cold. She had only ever seen sensational, horrifying stories like this in newspapers, and now she actually suspected that she had become a victim of one.
The moment such a shocking thought appeared...
She panicked and immediately dismissed that ridiculous line of thinking. The portraits on the wall peeked out curiously, and some whispered to each other.
With these witnesses around, Professor Lockhart shouldn't dare be that deranged, right?
That should be impossible! There was no way Professor Lockhart was a pervert. Hogwarts professors all underwent strict background checks. Hogwarts: A History recorded that as well!
Honestly...
If it were before, Hermione would have completely trusted "Hogwarts. A History." But after yesterday's events, her faith in the book's contents was no longer unwavering.
Lockhart, with his polished manners, really did resemble the type of villain in novels who hides their true nature behind charm.
As for those types of books...
The young witch had read quite a few herself. There were similar cases in Sherlock Holmes stories, too.
"What's he taking that Gryffindor girl to his office for?"
"I bet you a Galleon he's just going to show off his new book again."
The portraits gossiped amongst themselves.
They clearly didn't have Hermione's wild imagination.
"Please, let it really just be him bragging about his new book..."
Hermione silently prayed the portraits were right.
Her heartbeat grew faster and faster, almost bursting out of her chest. As she turned the last corner, she caught a glimpse of Peeves hovering by the ceiling and dramatically drawing a finger across his throat.
"Bastard!"
She wanted to pick up a stone and throw it at him, but Hogwarts was far too clean for such things to be lying around. Unable to do anything else, she simply glared at Peeves and ignored him.
Her heartbeat pounded louder and louder all the way there, until she could practically hear it echoing in her ears. Finally, they arrived at the office door of the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor.
The door slid open without a sound.
Lockhart pushed the door open wider and gestured for her to enter. Hermione took a deep breath and stepped inside. The interior was surprisingly tidy. Most of Lockhart's glittering medals and numerous self-portraits had been replaced by a simple oak desk and a few well-used books and records.
Of course, the office still carried that faint scent of cologne, and a portrait of Lockhart still hung on the wall, but it wasn't as excessive as Hermione remembered.
"Sit." Lockhart pointed to the chair opposite him before settling gracefully into his own. His movements were smoot, nothing like his usual flamboyant self.
Instead, there was a kind of refined elegance, almost aristocratic.
Hermione sat with her hands tightly clasped and her back straight as a board, her mind spinning through countless possibilities. But the moment Lockhart sat down, his expression turned serious and his tone became steady. He interlaced his fingers beneath his chin and fixed his blue eyes on her.
"Where is Ian Prince?"
Hermione had imagined countless possibilities but she never expected that question.
"What?" Hermione blurted out, her mind going blank. She had prepared for many outcomes, but none of them involved this.
Ian Prince?
'Why would Professor Lockhart suddenly bring up that name?'
She didn't know how to respond. She opened her mouth, trying to form words.
But she couldn't.
Because of her promise to Dumbledore, she couldn't talk about what happened in the Forbidden Forest. She didn't dare. Yet now, when she needed to improvise a lie—
Her mind was completely empty.
"I don't know."
After stuttering for a moment, that was all Hermione could say.
However...
In the next moment...
Something happened that struck her like lightning.
"You need to be honest with me."
Professor Lockhart spoke softly, something glowing faintly in his eyes. Hermione felt her resolve begin to fade.
At that moment, behind her...
Came the sound of the office door opening.
"Grandfather, I don't think Headmaster Dumbledore would be pleased to see you doing this."
It was still Professor Lockhart's voice and his words snapped Hermione out of her daze instantly.
She whipped around and to her disbelief, another Professor Lockhart stood at the office doorway.
What was going on?
Hermione's breath caught in her throat. Her lips trembled, but no sound came out. The air inside the office felt frozen, broken only by the occasional crackle from the fireplace.
"Polyjuice Potion…?"
After a long silence, Hermione's gaze shifted back and forth between the two Lockharts.
She carefully asked, "Is Transfiguration such an inconvenient thing?"
A mocking laugh echoed.
Then, the Lockhart sitting on the desk began to change shape. His form rippled and twisted until he became an old man with silver-white hair.
It was the face of an old man she had only ever seen in old history books appeared before her.
"Grindelwald!" She let out a terrified scream.
"You will forget everything that happened today," Grindelwald said softly. "But first, you will tell me where Ian Prince and Albus Dumbledore are."
…
Night hung low.
The depths of the Forbidden Forest were shrouded in darkness. The towering, ancient trees rustled in the wind. In a place that should have been full of life, not a single creature made a sound.
Only the crackle of a fire could be heard.
In a clearing deep within the forest, a bonfire flickered and snapped.
Amid the silence, a bronze door stood tall and unmoving, like a relic from a forgotten age. Its surface was covered in intricate runes that glowed faintly, as if waiting for the right moment to awaken.
In front of the door sat a lone figure, cross-legged and holding a stick with a piece of roasted meat skewered on it. Firelight danced across the boy's face, illuminating his relaxed, almost lazy expression.
Lirim, or rather, the ancient being inhabiting the body of a young man flipped the roasting meat with leisurely ease. Fat dripped into the flames, releasing a tempting sizzle.
This was likely the only sound in the Forbidden Forest tonight.
The boy had been waiting there all day.
"So boring..."
Lirim tore off a large piece of meat and complained, his mouth full.
"A whole day had passed and still nothing?"
He looked up at the sky.
Moonlight filtered through the thick canopy and cast mottled shadows on him. He tossed the clean bone into the fire and wiped his greasy fingers on his robe. Then, he stood up, stretched lazily, and brushed the dust off his robes.
"Forget it. Might as well find some entertainment." Lirim muttered to himself as he walked toward the silent bronze door. "Challenging this so-called 'King of Wizards' should be fun."
He pressed his palm against the icy metal. Instantly, the entire door shuddered and the runes ignited with a dazzling light, responding to the surge of magic flowing into them.
"This legendary Trial Tower hasn't changed at all," he said as the ancient runes pulsed with a ghostly green glow and a vortex slowly formed at the center of the door.
From the distorted space, a figure emerged.
An old wizard with grizzled hair and a vicious expression stepped across the threshold, his robes billowing despite the lack of wind. When his clouded eyes landed on the boy, they widened with fury.
"Damn you! Imposter! You fraud!" The old wizard roared, his voice cracking and shrill. "I am the rightful ruler! I will become the King of All Worlds!"
Seeing this, Lirim didn't look surprised at all.
It was as if he already knew that the door had this function.
"You're just a joke. King of All Worlds, my foot." Lirim said, rubbing his palms together as ancient magic gathered between them.
His counterpart did the same.
The old man lifted his staff and swung it forward with murderous intent.
The battle erupted instantly.
A feast of ancient magic shattered the silence of the Forbidden Forest.
(End of Chapter)