Trunk World.
"Good boy, just one more feather."
"Boss, you said that yesterday. If you keep plucking them like this, how am I supposed to find a mate in the future?"
Lucien, who was soothing his Thunderbird "little brother" Aethel, felt a headache coming on. How far ahead was this Thunderbird thinking? Thunderbirds would not even consider mating until they were at least twenty years old.
"Ahem, Aethel, you're only ten. You're still young, there's no need to worry. And with me around, you'll be living well. With your build and these feathers, you'll definitely stand out among birds your age. I guarantee you'll have a whole flock of mates and plenty of offspring. It's just one feather. Won't it grow back in a few days?"
Aethel stretched his neck, enjoying Lucien scratching the soft feathers there.
"But, Boss, it still hurts a little when you pull them out…"
Lucien said, "What do you want for dinner tonight?"
Hearing this, Aethel immediately turned his head, plucked a feather with his beak, and handed it to Lucien.
"Salt and pepper lamb chops, please, Boss!"
Shaking his head, speechless, Lucien took the Thunderbird feather and left this layer of space, returning to his alchemy workshop.
Walking to the workbench, Lucien continued refining the half-finished flying broomstick.
His wand tapped from time to time as various materials were broken down and processed into the required components. With the addition of the Thunderbird feather, the broom's surface faintly resonated with the sound of wind and thunder.
"It's almost finished. The Quidditch season starts in November. I can make it."
After Charms class.
Lucien and the three young wizards headed to the Great Hall for a meal.
Taking advantage of a moment with no one around, Hermione spoke.
"Lucien, in History of Magic, Professor Binns told us about the legend of the Chamber of Secrets…"
Hermione recounted to Lucien, almost word for word, everything the ghost professor had said about it.
Lucien listened quietly. There was nothing significantly different from what Snape had told him. It was all about Slytherin building the Chamber of Secrets, the monster within, and killing Muggle-born wizards.
As Hermione spoke, Lucien noticed that her front teeth seemed to have become slightly smaller.
"Hey, Lucien, do you have any thoughts about this so-called Heir of Slytherin?"
Ron looked at him expectantly. He remembered that last year, it had been Lucien who found information about Nicolas Flamel and the Philosopher's Stone, helping them uncover the truth.
Faced with Ron's question, Lucien did not answer directly.
He knew the truth, of course. It was Tom Riddle, or rather the fragment of his soul in the diary, manipulating Lockhart behind the scenes.
But he still had a use for Lockhart and the Basilisk. So this year, he would have to leave the matter for them to resolve themselves.
According to the original course of events, Harry and his friends would first suspect Malfoy, then Hagrid, and even Harry himself would be suspected at one point. With the changes he had brought, who would they suspect now?
Lucien found himself curious and instead asked Ron,
"Based on what you know, what do you think?"
Ron scratched his red hair, speaking hesitantly,
"If it's really like the legend, and the Heir of Slytherin wants to deal with Muggle-born wizards, then it's probably someone from Slytherin, right? The Chamber of Secrets was left by Slytherin, then inherited by students from that house to carry out his wishes. It fits perfectly."
"But as for who exactly, there are so many of them…"
"Flint? That guy's annoying anyway."
Harry said, "That half-troll could probably strangle someone himself, but controlling a monster? I doubt he's capable of that."
Hermione glanced at Lucien and said thoughtfully,
"Maybe we could ask Malfoy and Greengrass to help us investigate. They're both in Slytherin, so it would be convenient, and…"
"The two of them probably wouldn't want to expel or harm Muggle-born wizards, right?"
After Hermione finished speaking, both Harry and Ron looked at Lucien.
Lucien raised his head and looked at the ceiling. How had this come back to him again?
This was not how things were supposed to go.
You were supposed to brainstorm, identify suspects, and use Polyjuice Potion to get close to them and gather clues.
Then, by chance, find Tom's diary, trigger an interaction, and unlock certain outcomes…
Looking at the expectant gazes of the three young wizards, Lucien did not know whether to laugh or sigh.
"Actually, you could just tell Malfoy and Greengrass directly."
Harry adjusted his glasses, looking a little troubled.
"Malfoy might be having some problems lately. Flint has gone back to Quidditch training after his detention, and he doesn't seem very happy with Malfoy, so…"
Ron said, "Then we'll just find Greengrass. But Lucien, you know she doesn't really hang out with us. She gets along pretty well with you, right?"
After saying that, Ron winked at Lucien.
Hermione, however, was not pleased. What did "gets along pretty well" mean? Hugging the book in her arms, she pursed her lips.
"We don't need to ask her. There are plenty of other ways."
Hearing Hermione's words, Ron looked at her in confusion, as if he wanted to say, I didn't say we had to beg her, and weren't you the one who suggested asking them for help?
"Or maybe it's not someone from Slytherin at all? I feel like there's someone else who isn't quite right…"
The one who said this was Harry. His expression was hesitant, and after a few seconds, he continued,
"I think Lockhart also… also isn't quite right. It's just a feeling. For example, the night Madam Norris was attacked, I was in Lockhart's office…"
As Harry spoke, Lucien's thoughts moved quickly.
This boy was quite perceptive. Even without finding the key, he had already noticed something was off.
Lockhart, or rather the young Tom behind him, had handled the trick of making Harry his alibi quite skillfully.
Young wizards rarely kept track of time, and children of that age often felt time passed quickly. Lockhart's office had no clocks, only an hourglass, and its illusion of paused time misled Harry.
Especially after Harry left the office, his experience of following the Basilisk's voice, along with the tension and excitement, further distorted his sense of time.
After listening to Harry's account, Ron nodded slightly, looking thoughtful.
"Hmm, Harry, the Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor is definitely suspicious, but we can't just pin this on Lockhart because of what happened with Quirrell last year. To be honest, even I can tell that guy seems like a complete fool. Could he really do something like this?"
"Hermione said, "Ron, Professor Lockhart isn't a fool. He might just be… just be…"
She trailed off, unable to continue. The more she attended Lockhart's classes, the more uncertain she felt. Was Lockhart really as brave and intelligent as he claimed in his books?
Ron raised his hands in surrender.
"Alright, alright, I spoke without thinking. I forgot you even drew a heart next to Defence Against the Dark Arts on your timetable. By the way, why do you all like someone like Lockhart? I thought you'd like Luc—"
"Ron!"
Hermione let out a sharp cry, and at the same time, slammed a thick book against his mouth.
________
(^///^) Please support this fic and also read 12 chapters ahead at Patreon.com/DrakDevil1
