Once Lockhart made his decision, he wanted to act immediately.
It wasn't some grand display of "strong execution." No, it was the overwhelming, irrepressible urge bubbling within him—like in his past life when he'd dive into games or scroll through short videos without needing anyone to nudge him.
Magic, to him, was pure joy.
When magic seeped into every corner of life, every little moment became fun.
That was the greatest gift of crossing into this wizarding world. Every second, he lived in happiness.
Magic was just so fun.
He decided it was time to shift his strategy. Ever since he realized Voldemort's Horcrux situation was spiraling out of control and becoming unpredictable, he knew he needed to seize some initiative.
Whether facing Voldemort or Dumbledore.
Yes, Dumbledore too.
The old man was genuinely good—a great wizard. His power was so absurdly immense, yet he approached the world with kindness, warmth, and a remarkable sense of restraint.
But Dumbledore was also a political creature, with his own clear agenda. Lockhart couldn't guarantee he'd always align perfectly with Dumbledore's plans.
He wanted to be the free wind in the forest, the unchecked stream in the mountains, chasing the joy of magic—not tangled up in the bizarre political narratives of Voldemort or Dumbledore.
Holding one of Voldemort's Horcruxes would give him a major edge moving forward.
Late at night, the moonlight dimmed behind clouds. Snape, after drinking himself into a stupor and sitting by the window in the cold breeze all night, finally relaxed his furrowed brow and slipped into a deep sleep.
Lockhart had a Boggart take his form, pretending to sleep in another corner, while he draped himself in the red cloak and silently left his office.
He didn't go far. He stood at the corner of the seventh-floor staircase, hidden beneath the cloak, quietly opening Caro's Bedtime Fairy Tales and waiting.
He knew someone would show up soon.
He knew Tom too well. After Ginny's adventure with the professors, her increasingly powerful Patronus Charm making Tom feel his control slipping, and Voldemort's attack with Dark wizards and werewolves, Tom would surely check on his ace in the hole—the Basilisk—to ensure it was still secure.
It was inevitable.
And it would be around this time.
Sure enough, Lockhart didn't wait long. Ginny, in her ghostly, possessed state, appeared at the top of the stairs.
She swayed, dazed, her steps unsteady as if sleepwalking.
As she passed the staircase corner, she suddenly vanished, completely gone.
Ginny didn't realize she'd stepped into Lockhart's red cloak, into the fairy-tale book. She thought she was still descending the stairs.
But the stairs never ended. One flight led to another, on and on, as if there was no bottom.
Sigh.
From above, Lockhart let out a soft sigh. He'd brought Ginny into his Duelling Club partly to subtly influence Tom's plans through her, but he'd also genuinely taught her how to resist Dark magic's pull.
Clearly, Ginny wasn't particularly gifted in that area.
Someone like Snape, with talent for both Dark magic and defending against it, was destined for a painful life.
But someone like Ginny, with a knack only for Dark magic, could easily become another Bellatrix if she wasn't careful. One major life setback could let Dark magic consume her entirely.
She could only hope life wouldn't push her toward becoming a Dark witch or that fate would be kind, letting her sail through life as smoothly as in the original story, with everything she ever wanted.
Lockhart was out of ideas.
He'd taught her everything he could, but Ginny simply couldn't resist Tom's influence. If it were Harry or Hermione, they'd likely have broken free from the spiral by now.
"Let me help you forget all this. This adventure is too much for you."
Lockhart slowly drew his wand and gently waved it at Ginny's back.
"Obliviate!"
A silver glow shimmered, and in the hazy light, a massive, hulking werewolf shadow emerged from Ginny's reflection on the wall beside the stairs. The shadow bared its fangs and lunged at her.
The werewolf was greedy, vicious, tearing away a piece of her shadow, dragging silver threads with it and swallowing them whole.
A theft of life. She'd lose everything tied to Tom's influence—her Parseltongue gift, her Dark magic aptitude, all of it.
Who knows if she'd still wield the Bat-Bogey Hex with the same flair that had impressed even Horace Slughorn, a man who'd seen countless elite wizards.
But regardless, Ginny was now fully free from the "Chamber of Secrets" adventure.
She was supposed to play the "princess" role—tricked by an evil witch (Tom), captured by a dragon (the Basilisk), locked in a castle (the Chamber), and awaiting a hero's rescue (Harry).
A theft of life was undeniably cruel.
Lockhart didn't pretend this was for Ginny's own good. He despised paternalistic meddling in others' fates, judging what was right or wrong for them. He was simply making his own choice.
His choice was clear: he needed Tom's diary Horcrux, and for now, Dumbledore couldn't know.
It was that simple.
He gently opened the fairy-tale book, watching as Ginny stepped out of its pages, out of his red cloak, and continued down the stairs as if by habit. With a startled yelp, she snapped awake and hurried back to the Gryffindor dorms…
Sorry, kid. Your adventure's over. Now it's my turn.
He turned his gaze back to the fairy-tale book. Inside was a Hogwarts, complete with young witches and wizards, professors, Ginny, the Chamber, and everything from his memories of the school.
Tom, trapped in the diary Horcrux, wouldn't notice anything amiss. The world was built from his own memories of Hogwarts.
This was the first step of Dumbledore's "The Warlock's Hairy Heart"—locking the heart in a chest.
The second step: letting dark forces quietly corrupt the heart.
Time passed silently. In the fairy-tale book's Hogwarts, a new day dawned and faded. Back in her dorm, "Ginny" opened the diary again, pouring her day's events into it.
Lockhart sat on Ginny's bed, picking up a very girly pink quill from the desk, dipping it in ink, and writing carefully in the diary.
"Professor Lockhart had us sorting his book manuscripts again. So annoying. I just want to spend more time with Harry, not deal with this hassle."
The words vanished from the diary's pages. Moments later, a string of letters appeared.
—"Is it about the book on teaching you the Patronus Charm? He loves showing off stuff like that!"
Oh, Tom, trying to figure me out, huh?
Lockhart grinned. While he was analyzing Tom's behavior, Tom was doing the same to him—and pretty accurately too.
"Nope!"
He chuckled, scribbling, "It's a biography about the Dark Lord Voldemort. The title's The Mysterious Voldemort: A Pure-Blood Supremacist with a Muggle Father?…"
Before he could finish, the ink vanished, replaced by a string of exclamation marks.
—!!!!
Tom was floored.
—How dare he!!!
Lockhart ignored the outburst. Ginny wouldn't care either—she was a bit self-centered, often brushing off topics that didn't interest her, focusing on her own thoughts.
He kept writing.
"I had no idea Voldemort had a Muggle father, or that his mother used a love potion to seduce him…"
"Ginny's" perspective was unique, her words dripping with romanticism.
"His mother must have loved his father so much, doing everything to keep him by her side. But then she took pity and let him go, only for him to leave her for good."
"She didn't use the love potion again to bring him back. Instead, she chose death in despair, holding on just long enough to give birth to her child at the orphanage."
—What nonsense about a love potion?!
The ink vanished instantly, leaving only Tom's furious outburst.
—Why blame that poor woman for everything? Why assume such malice?! Oh, I get it. Because Voldemort opposed Muggles and threatened wizardkind's survival—and failed—people maliciously assume Muggles are always victims, and wizards, with their magic, must be the ones in control, right? So self-righteous!
—She just made herself pretty, used a bit of that 'beauty potion' you young witches love. Is it wrong for a woman to dress up to catch her beloved's eye?
—It was that man who was obsessed with her beauty. When she lost her father and brother, her funds ran dry, and she couldn't afford the potion anymore, she lost her looks. And that man, knowing she was pregnant, abandoned her without a second thought!
Is that so?
The truth didn't matter to Lockhart.
What mattered was the emotion in Tom's words. A wizard's deepest feelings were always tied to magic, and Tom's intense emotions screamed one thing: he cared deeply about his mother.
Got you, little Tom.
Lockhart picked up the quill again. "Merlin's beard, that's how it happened? She was a great woman, a great mother! I have to convince Professor Lockhart to drop this book. It's cruel to her memory!"
Tom went quiet. He clearly knew Ginny didn't have the sway to change Lockhart's mind.
"Like you said, the book about teaching us the Patronus Charm, right? Maybe that idea will get him to focus on that instead. He's always wanted everyone to know he's Harry Potter's professor!"
—!!!!
Tom responded, clearly seeing an opportunity.
—Yes, that'd benefit him more than digging into Voldemort's private life. Voldemort's not someone to mess with. This is a better way for him to get attention.
"Right? Good idea, huh?" The pink quill scratched quickly as "Ginny" shared her woes. "But I'm not great with the Patronus Charm. I'd need something convincing to sway him. Can you teach me about it?"
Tom fell silent again. After a long pause, he wrote, —I never paid much attention to that spell. Its uses are too limited, not worth my time.
"Merlin's beard, you're missing out on the most amazing magic! Professor Lockhart says the Patronus Charm draws power from the beauty in your heart. It can even let us see loved ones who've passed!"
"Ginny" raved about the charm's wonders, using Voldemort as an example, suggesting he must have used it to see his mother.
"His mother loved him so much. If he loved her too, casting a Patronus Charm would let him see her! Merlin's beard, how romantic is that?"
—!!!
—!!!
—!!!
Tom sent three exclamations in a row, finally unable to resist. —Tell me the incantation, the wand movements, everything about this spell!
Alright, little Tom.
You've finally taken the bait.
A satisfied smile spread across Lockhart's face as he sat before the diary.
With a wave of his wand, silvery wisps of light swirled around the diary, slowly seeping into it, just as Tom had once influenced the vulnerable Ginny.
Little Tom, Professor Lockhart's private lesson on love and the Patronus Charm is about to begin.