Not a single student left—most of them were eager to see Lockhart and Filch fight, especially after Lockhart's lesson.
Even those who had just attended Lockhart's "well-prepared" class that day were no exception.
Although Lockhart had indeed demonstrated some effective magic in that lesson, when they actually wanted to learn, Lockhart was like a teapot trying to pour dumplings—he just couldn't get anything out of it, leaving everyone extremely disappointed with his teaching abilities.
Dumbledore quickly arrived at the chaotic scene with the other professors.
Filch glared at Lockhart with resentful eyes, and Lockhart didn't dare to meet his gaze.
Dumbledore looked at the words on the wall, then at Lockhart and the petrified cat.
"Giddon?" Dumbledore asked Lockhart, frowning.
"This absolutely wasn't me!" Lockhart exclaimed frantically. "You know—I would never do such a thing to a cat, I love animals—"
"But it's your signature on the wall!" A boisterous voice rang out from the group of students, a signed book by Lockhart held high. "Your signature looks just like this!"
"Signatures can be forged!" Lockhart roared. "Especially after I've signed so many books for you all for free! Some student must be trying to frame me!"
"Don't make baseless accusations against students without evidence," Dumbledore's tone became stern.
"My cat is dead!" Seeing how serious Dumbledore was about this, Filch cried out to him. "I want to see the perpetrator punished!"
"Argus, let's talk in the office." Dumbledore brought Mrs. Norris along, his azure eyes fixed on Lockhart through his half-moon-shaped glasses. "I remember Gilderoy's office is right next door. May we use it for a moment, Gilderoy?"
"Of course…"
Lockhart said nervously.
"Everyone, hurry back to your dorms," Dumbledore coaxed the students. "After a good meal, you need a good night's sleep. The professors will handle this, so please don't panic."
No one showed any sign of panic, because no student liked Mrs. Norris or Filch, and the "culprit," Lockhart, had been taken away by Dumbledore.
"That's great!" Ron said happily on the way back to the dorms. "The two people I hate the most are in trouble!"
"Why would Lockhart think of writing his name on the wall?" Harry asked, puzzled.
With the information Cohen had given him beforehand, Harry was naturally certain that Lockhart was the one who killed Mrs. Norris.
But Lockhart's action was too stupid—even a child couldn't stand it.
"That's probably how celebrities are," Cohen rambled on. "They want more exposure and fame. #HogwartsProfessorMutilatesColleague'sCat# sounds like it'll make headlines."
"Hermione? Why aren't you happy?" Ron leaned closer to Hermione and asked. "You're not even smiling on such a good day!"
"I don't think it's funny, Ron," Hermione said, her brow furrowed. "I thought Cohen was exaggerating when he said Lockhart wanted to 'murder' Mrs. Norris, like plucking its fur, or…"
"Or maybe killing it along with Filch," Ron thought viciously.
"That's not the point!" Hermione blew Ron's fantasy away. "Didn't you see the words on the wall and Lockhart's expression when he saw them? 'The Chamber of Secrets has been opened. Beware of those who oppose the Heir.' But Lockhart looked completely bewildered when he saw those words—he hadn't expected this outcome at all, I could tell!"
"Hermione, after that lesson, I thought you stopped idolizing Lockhart." Harry said, somewhat confused.
"It's not about idolizing him!" Hermione's mind was racing. "Don't you think there have been a lot of unexpected incidents this year? First, Harry and you were stopped outside the station, then Harry and Cohen heard the mysterious voice, then Lockhart attacked Filch's cat, and, Harry, didn't you say your scar was hurting again the other night?"
"Indeed!" Harry's eyes lit up. "You mean… there's a conspiracy behind all this?"
"Little detectives, the password?"
They had unknowingly arrived at the entrance to the Gryffindor common room. The Fat Lady greeted them with a smile.
"Soot sprites," Hermione said to the Fat Lady, but her topic wasn't over yet. "Lockhart attacked Mrs. Norris, but it's very likely he wasn't the one who wrote those words—I don't believe anyone would be stupid enough to write their own name at a crime scene. To figure everything out, we first need to understand what the Chamber of Secrets is."
But figuring out what the Chamber of Secrets was wasn't something that could be accomplished tonight, and Cohen had no reason and no intention of revealing any information to the three of them beforehand—he should pretend to be more like an uninformed person.
Back in the common room, Cohen went straight to his dormitory as usual.
"So early again?!" Ron exclaimed in surprise.
"Why do I say 'again'?" Cohen replied, "It's past eight o'clock now. If you don't sleep before school, you won't have so much time to sleep after graduation!"
"I'm going to sleep too," Harry said, clutching his scar. "It's probably because I haven't had enough sleep—my scar is hurting again. It seems to hurt every now and then these past few days."
"Oh dear..." a lonely Ron said sadly.
"You can do your homework this week," Hermione said to Ron. "I can teach you if you encounter any problems."
"I'm so sleepy, I want to go to sleep too." Ron suddenly felt less alone.
—
Cohen's soul drifted to Lockhart's office—whether he could catch up on the drama now.
But Lockhart's office was very quiet. Cohen went inside; Lockhart was the only one there.
The professors' discussion seemed to have ended. Lockhart hadn't started packing his things; it seemed he had protected his "innocence."
Cohen watched as Lockhart anxiously checked the door several times, making sure no one was peeping or eavesdropping, before taking down the framed picture of Voldemort on the back of the wall.
"I couldn't—" Lockhart said anxiously, but was interrupted by the furious Voldemort.
"I heard you! You fool!" Voldemort cursed. "You've given yourself away! He must have found out it was you!"
"Dumbledore didn't find out—"
"I'm talking about Cohen!" Voldemort roared. "He must have been following you! Otherwise, who would deliberately change the 'Cohen' you wrote down to 'Lockhart'!"
"He's just a child…" Lockhart was puzzled by Voldemort's anger. "As long as Dumbledore—"
"Dumbledore isn't the point!" Voldemort was increasingly disappointed in Lockhart. "You don't understand at all… I'm so disappointed in you…"
"You—wait a minute—" Lockhart watched Voldemort's face gradually disappear from behind the picture frame. "You're not leaving, are you? You're going to go and collaborate with that Cohen Norton? No way—what about my classes afterwards!"
Voldemort didn't respond, because his soul had already drifted away.
However, for some reason, even though Voldemort was now in ghost form, he couldn't see Cohen in the room.
Cohen, on the other hand, could see him.
Perhaps this is the difference between a superior soul purified by the Philosopher's Stone and a inferior soul made into six Horcruxes...
Voldemort does indeed seem to be heading to the Gryffindor Tower to find Cohen—now he knows to seek out his old ally?
Cohen still prefers Voldemort's previous unruly demeanor.
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(End of Chapter)