Harry took several deep breaths, gripping the quill in his pocket.
Knock, knock.
Harry raised his hand and knocked on Lockhart's office door.
"Oh, is that you, Harry? Come in, come in."
Pushing the door open, Harry saw Lockhart sitting at his desk as usual, signing books or stationery with that flamboyant peacock quill.
Lockhart flashed his trademark smile and beckoned Harry over.
"Today should be your last detention session. We've had a wonderful time together over the past month. If you enjoy experiencing fame in advance, you're welcome to come here anytime to help me reply to fans!"
Harry felt nauseous at Lockhart's words. If he had not caused such a mess at the start of term, he would not have been punished for so long. Most of the work involved signing replies for Lockhart. He was sick of seeing the name Gilderoy Lockhart.
Harry forced a shy-looking smile that was actually quite stiff and sat down across from him.
Taking the quill out of his pocket, Harry relaxed slightly. This was the Copying Quill he got from Lucien. Its function was simple: to handle tedious and repetitive transcription, perfect for dull tasks like signing for Lockhart.
Harry only needed to pretend to hold the quill. The stack of books in front of him conveniently blocked Lockhart's view, and the quill would take care of the rest.
Suddenly, Harry noticed an hourglass sitting on the stack of books that had not been there before.
Seeing Harry notice it, Lockhart explained with a smile, "You know, I have so many fans who adore me. When reading all those letters, I sometimes lose track of time. After all, we cannot let the fans' enthusiasm fade, can we?"
"I'm using this hourglass to remind myself to keep track of the time."
As he spoke, Lockhart flipped the hourglass, letting the sand begin to flow.
Harry gave a low grunt. Listening to the faint sound of the sand, he looked down at the sickeningly sweet, almost unhinged fan letters addressed to Lockhart.
"Harry, fame is like a fickle friend..."
"A celebrity should act like a celebrity..."
Lockhart's self-absorbed rambling mixed with the soft sound of falling sand in Harry's ears.
For no clear reason, a wave of drowsiness washed over him.
Thud.
Harry's forehead hit the table.
Seeing Harry fall asleep, Lockhart's eyes lit up with delight.
He reached out and tapped the hourglass lightly. The sand inside immediately stopped flowing.
Lockhart pulled the old diary from a drawer, tucked it into his robes, glanced back at the sleeping Harry, and hurried out of the office.
He was heading to the Chamber of Secrets to release the Basilisk.
Following Tom's suggestion in the diary, Lockhart had arranged an alibi witness for himself.
That witness was Harry, who came to see him every few days.
The so-called hourglass was one of the magical items Lockhart had collected. Sometimes he did not just "borrow" other wizards' experiences. He also took key evidence or gains from those experiences. Since the original owners no longer had the memories, leaving such things behind would be a waste.
The effect of this hourglass was simple. As long as someone heard the sound of the flowing sand, combined with the words of its owner, they would fall into a deep sleep.
Lockhart had calculated that by the time he reached the Chamber of Secrets, released the Basilisk, and returned to wake Harry, not much time would have passed. He would then keep Harry there a little longer, and with the paused hourglass, it would be easy to deceive him. After all, he was only a child.
Hurrying toward the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets, Lockhart did not notice the small bat quietly trailing behind him. It was normal to see bats at this time of year. Halloween was approaching.
He arrived at Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. It was empty.
Following the method Tom had given him, Lockhart first sprinkled some potion to confuse a ghost's perception, avoiding being accidentally noticed by Myrtle.
He took out the diary and held it close to a certain tap.
A few seconds later, the dark entrance to the Chamber of Secrets revealed itself before him.
Thinking of the fame within his grasp, Lockhart swallowed hard and jumped into the entrance.
Immediately afterward, a bat hidden in the shadows appeared, smoothly transforming into a moth mid-air before flying into the Chamber of Secrets as well.
Following the route shown in the diary, Lockhart soon arrived before a door carved with reliefs and held the diary close to it once more.
It was a familiar process, and the door rumbled open.
Accompanied by a terrifying scraping sound, a massive, brilliantly green snake slowly slithered out. Its fifty-foot-long body made cold sweat break out across Lockhart's back.
Lockhart quickly lowered his head, not daring to look into the Basilisk's eyes.
Holding the diary above his head, Lockhart waited nervously, feeling as though time was passing exceptionally slowly.
In reality, it was very quick. The green Basilisk slithered away, disappearing into a pipe.
Lockhart gasped for breath, wiped the sweat from his forehead, and promptly left the Chamber of Secrets.
A few minutes later, the entire Chamber of Secrets fell into complete silence.
A moth fluttered down and, in the blink of an eye, transformed into a youth with dark green eyes.
Lucien summoned Lumen. As soon as it appeared, it seemed to dispel the surrounding cold and darkness.
"Master, it's so dirty here!"
Hearing this, Lucien patted Lumen's neck.
"Haha~ true, but it's fine. We can purify this place later."
"Let's leave a spatial marker here first, so it will be easier to come back."
After Lumen set the marker, Lucien had it teleport them away.
...
On the other side.
The Defence Against the Dark Arts office.
"Harry, why did you fall asleep? Has studying been too exhausting lately?"
Harry heard someone calling him and woke up groggily.
"Ah, did I fall asleep?"
Harry quickly sat up and adjusted his glasses, just in time to see the hourglass in front of him. Only a small amount of sand had fallen.
"I just glanced over and saw you slumped on the desk. Sigh, young people need to take care of their health too. You'll need a good body once you're famous..."
Listening to Lockhart's rambling, Harry felt deeply embarrassed. Dozing off in front of a professor was still rather humiliating.
Suddenly, a chilling, malicious voice crept into Harry's ear.
"Let me... rip... kill you..."
________
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