Morning sunlight bathed the castle grounds in golden radiance, transforming dewdrops into scattered diamonds across the emerald grass. The crisp autumn air carried the earthy scent of fallen leaves mixed with the faint musk that always seemed to emanate from the edge of the Forbidden Forest.
In front of the magical creatures hut, over a dozen young wizards stood in formation, each gripping their broomsticks with barely contained excitement. Their breath formed small puffs of vapour in the cool air as they listened intently to Professor Kahn's briefing about their upcoming expedition.
"Today, we're venturing into unexplored regions of the Forbidden Forest," Evans announced, his voice carrying both authority and warning. Alice perched on his left shoulder while Nana occupied his right, the Diricawl occasionally preening her feathers and the Niffler's dark eyes scanning for anything remotely shiny among the students' equipment. A sturdy case hung from his shoulder, clinking softly with unknown contents. "These areas are extremely dangerous."
His gaze swept across their eager faces with practised assessment. "You must stay within my sight at all times today. I cannot guarantee your safety if you wander off, no matter how briefly."
"Yes, Professor!" The unified response rang out with youthful enthusiasm, their voices echoing off the stone walls of the nearby castle.
Evans nodded with satisfaction as he observed their animated expressions. Though most of these students had ventured into the forest's periphery during previous detention assignments or midnight adventures, those shallow areas barely qualified as the "real" Forbidden Forest. Hagrid's daily patrols kept the outer regions relatively safe, cleared of anything truly menacing.
Today would mark their first genuine taste of the wilderness that had claimed countless lives over the centuries.
The anticipation radiating from his students pleased him greatly. A proper adventurous spirit would serve them well in the trials ahead.
While he was indeed leading them into genuinely perilous, unexplored territory, Evans felt minimal concern about their safety. He'd brought virtually every combat asset at his disposal. Short of encountering a mating herd of territorial dragons, they should emerge unscathed from whatever the forest threw at them.
"Everyone perform final equipment checks," he instructed, "particularly your insect-repelling charms. Even the mosquitoes in the deep forest are magical creatures. Trust me, you don't want to discover what their bites can do to human blood."
Gripping his Nimbus Two Thousand tighter, Harry ran through his mental checklist while the events of the previous night continued churning through his thoughts.
"Still dwelling on that house-elf?" Ron appeared beside him with characteristic casualness, giving Harry's shoulder a companionable pat.
"Don't torture yourself over it. I've heard those creatures only serve the oldest pure-blood families. Maybe some of them are still bitter about You-Know-Who's defeat and sent it to sabotage your education."
"But from Harry's description, I don't think it harboured genuine malice," Hermione interjected, moving to join their conversation. Uncertainty flickered in her brown eyes as she considered the moral implications.
"It was going to jinx Harry's Bludger, meow!" The little black cat's indignant voice floated down from atop Harry's messy hair, its spectral form bristling with remembered fury.
"Yet it genuinely seemed to care about his welfare..." Hermione began, but her words trailed off as other club members finished their preparations and began standing in ready formation.
"Let's shelve that discussion for now," Ron declared, his eyes sparkling with anticipation. "Today marks our first real expedition into the Forbidden Forest!"
The iron-blue pixie perched on his head chose that moment to playfully yank a strand of his ginger hair, eliciting a sharp yelp of pain.
"Ow! Stop that!" Ron glared up at the mischievous creature now hovering just out of reach. He swiped at the air futilely, his expression growing increasingly exasperated. "I keep telling you to quit doing that! I'm going to be completely bald before Christmas!"
Meanwhile, in a forgotten corner of Hogwarts castle, Professor Lockhart sat slumped against cold stone walls, studying patches of moss with the thousand-yard stare of a man whose ego had been thoroughly demolished.
He hadn't slept a wink since the previous evening's humiliation, his mind trapped in an endless loop of replaying those mortifying moments when he'd been made to look like a complete fool. Twice.
"Blast that upstart!" he muttered bitterly, his usually pristine appearance dishevelled beyond recognition. "He completely stole the spotlight! Made me look like some bumbling amateur!"
The soft rustle of turning pages echoed through the empty corridor, but Lockhart remained too absorbed in his self-pity to notice the sound.
Then—
"BANG!"
"AHHH!"
Clutching his throbbing skull, Lockhart collapsed to his knees as stars exploded across his vision. The pain lanced through his head like white-hot needles, leaving him gasping for breath on the cold flagstones.
Several excruciating minutes passed before the agony finally subsided to manageable levels.
"Who dares ambush the great Professor Lockhart?" he demanded, struggling to his feet while scanning the empty corridor for potential attackers.
His gaze fell upon the object that had struck him: an unremarkable, weathered notebook lying innocently nearby. Suspicious but curious, he picked it up and began flipping through the yellowed pages.
Every single page appeared completely blank.
"What is this supposed to be? Some kind of joke?" After examining the worn-looking journal more thoroughly, Lockhart shook his head with disappointment and prepared to discard it as worthless rubbish.
But then, the page he'd left open suddenly sprouted a line of elegant script:
[I am a magical notebook capable of answering your questions.]
"Oh my!" Seeing this mysterious text, Lockhart's face finally brightened with genuine interest.
[Indeed, you may ask me anything you wish to know. As long as it exists within my considerable knowledge base, I can provide answers.]
[And my expertise is remarkably extensive. Everything you could possibly want to understand about potions, transfiguration, and even the most mysterious Dark Magic...]
The writing carried an unmistakably seductive quality, but Lockhart's damaged ego prevented him from recognising any potential danger. Instead, his features lit up with excited anticipation.
"This is absolutely wonderful! I have so many questions that need answering!"
Sensing the man's enthusiastic response, the fragment of Tom Riddle's soul within the diary exhaled with relief.
As expected, though this individual was considerably older than his previous host, he proved even more susceptible to manipulation than that troublesome child had been.
As long as this fool was willing to confide his secrets and desires, it shouldn't take long to achieve complete dominance over his mind.
Hmph, someone with such pathetic mental defences actually dares to call himself a Hogwarts professor?
"Please list ten of Professor Lockhart's greatest advantages and expand each one into a comprehensive essay!"
The unexpected request left Tom's soul fragment momentarily stunned, but before he could formulate a response, the man continued his bizarre interrogation with manic energy.
"How do you evaluate my absolutely flawless performance in 'Wandering with Werewolves'? Write a detailed analysis of why it was completely without fault!"
"Regarding my legendary encounter with that Tibetan yeti..."
The questions kept pouring forth in an unstoppable torrent. The man showed absolutely no intention of waiting for actual answers, completely lost in the narcissistic pleasure of asking increasingly self-aggrandising questions.
Tom's consciousness reeled with utter bewilderment. The soul fragment that had once embodied cunning and manipulation now harboured only one burning question:
Were all current Hogwarts students and faculty completely insane?
Finding a notebook capable of answering any conceivable question... even if one wasn't interested in exploring forbidden Dark Magic, shouldn't a normal person at least use such a resource for meaningful conversation or seeking solutions to genuine problems?
The first host had treated him like some sort of study aid, and this second fool was even worse, apparently viewing him as nothing more than a praise-generating machine!
Tom felt his wounded pride withering under this fresh humiliation. He desperately wanted to abandon this pathetic target immediately. Though his soul had been shattered into countless fragments, he still retained some vestige of dignity!
How could the Dark Lord's essence be reduced to composing nauseating flattery for an incompetent buffoon?
But after careful consideration, he forced himself to suppress that righteous indignation.
No, this represented his easiest path to recovery. If he abandoned this malleable target, there was no telling when another opportunity for restoration might present itself.
He just needed to endure this degradation. Just a little longer...
[Oh yes, magnificent Professor Lockhart, your advantages shine with such brilliant radiance...]
Gritting his metaphorical teeth, Tom began crafting elaborate praise while silently swearing vengeance.
Once he achieved his ultimate goal, once this soul fragment had fully restored its power, he would definitely kill this insufferable so-called professor!
And that previous boy who had used him like some kind of magical textbook...
Kill them. Kill them all!