Defense Against the Dark Arts office.
Lockhart scribbled in an old diary with a peacock quill:
"Are we really going to target the young witches and wizards so soon? Should we wait a bit longer? The risk still seems too high, doesn't it?"
As the ink slowly faded, Lockhart waited, a hint of anxiety on his face.
He didn't know why, but recently, Tom's replies had been getting slower and slower, often taking several minutes before new handwriting appeared.
Even the words Lockhart wrote were taking longer to disappear. Before, they would vanish almost immediately after being written.
"Could something be wrong with Tom? After all, he said he was just a memory…"
Lockhart muttered uneasily to himself. He couldn't bear to part with such a magical item, nor a "friend" who understood and helped him, and certainly not the honor and fame that were almost within his reach.
Inside the diary.
In a room nearly identical to the Headmaster's Office, the young Tom leaned back leisurely in his chair, showing no sign of the weakness Lockhart was worried about.
"Lockhart… tsk. His magical ability is truly pathetic, probably only at the level of an adult wizard, maybe even worse than some outstanding students."
"Heh, but he does have his advantages. He's easy to manipulate. His desires are too strong and too obvious, which makes him very convenient to guide…"
Tom pondered for a moment, then picked up his pen and wrote in the brand-new diary:
"Your kindness moves me, but didn't you also mention that a student named Lucien can provide Mandrakes? The antidote for petrification has already been prepared, so the young wizards will only be out for a few days."
"But if we don't move faster, if the incident isn't dangerous enough, not sensational enough, my friend, how will you become a hero? How will you create big news?"
"Opportunity knocks but once."
As Tom wrote words that even he found distasteful, he contemplated his next move.
The appearance of a young wizard who could provide Mandrakes was somewhat unexpected, but not a major issue. It wouldn't affect the overall situation.
Even if he controlled the Basilisk to petrify that student named Lucien, it would be pointless. The Mandrakes had already been made into an antidote.
And now was not the time to begin outright slaughter.
Tom needed to accumulate strength first, until he could recreate a body for this fragment of his soul.
When that time came, it would be time to unleash a storm of blood and carnage.
Aside from getting rid of Dumbledore, there was one other person… Just thinking of that name filled Tom's soul with anger and resentment.
"Harry Potter!"
"What a joke! How could I have been defeated by a baby!"
"No, that wasn't me. That was 'me' decades later… ah—"
"What the hell was 'me' decades later even doing?!"
Through their exchanges over this period, Tom had already learned about the major events of recent years from Lockhart.
This naturally included the chaos caused by You-Know-Who.
At first, Lockhart didn't even dare write the name Lord Voldemort in the diary. But after repeated coaxing from Tom, he finally learned that the so-called You-Know-Who was none other than Lord Voldemort, his future self.
Tom also learned that in the future, he would manipulate everything from the shadows and reach the pinnacle with terrifying magical power!
But what was the result?
The Great Lord Voldemort had actually been defeated by a baby?!
What a joke!!!
Tom, unwilling to believe it, confirmed it again with Lockhart. Lockhart clearly stated that the widely accepted view was that Harry Potter, still an infant, had defeated the Dark Lord, Lord Voldemort.
At that moment, Tom felt his fragment of a soul tremble violently, almost splitting into even smaller pieces.
He was furious. Decades of study and research, reaching the pinnacle of magic, pushing the Dark Arts to unprecedented heights, and still losing to a baby?
And it was common knowledge?
"What was 'I' in the future even doing? Did he lose his mind?!"
Tom tried to calm himself. The feeling was strange, as if he were scolding himself, yet also scolding someone else.
He had already decided that once he regained a physical body, he would meet Harry Potter in person and see what was so special about this so-called Boy Who Lived. A baby defeating the Dark Lord?
Not even if he were Merlin reincarnated.
Outside the diary.
Lockhart saw the reply appear and let out a sigh of relief, glad that Tom hadn't gone silent.
But after reading Tom's persuasion, Lockhart frowned again.
After thinking for a long time, he wrote once more:
"I'll think it over carefully, my friend. Are you feeling unwell lately? Is there anything I can do to help you?"
Perhaps Lockhart was too agitated to notice that the words disappeared slightly faster this time.
Inside the diary, Tom leaned back in the Headmaster's chair. Seeing that line of text, a strange smile spread across his indistinct face.
"He's taken the bait."
Tom slowly wrote:
"My friend, as you know, I am merely a memory, destined to fade away. I am glad to have met you… I once read in a book that perhaps things rich in life force, such as dragon's blood, might help alleviate this…"
...
Next to Hagrid's vegetable patch.
"Hoo hoo, I really have to thank you, Lucien. If it weren't for your help, this year's giant pumpkins probably wouldn't have been enough."
Hagrid moved the massive pumpkins out of the patch, piling them outside the fence, waiting for Halloween in a few days.
"You're welcome, it's nothing. By the way, there should have been a fixed amount every year, right? What happened this time? New pests? Did you run out of the insecticide I gave you?" Lucien asked while helping move the pumpkins.
Hagrid had just set down a giant pumpkin. He waved his hands, and an indignant voice came from behind his thick beard:
"I still have plenty of the potion you gave me, and it's not pests. It's Lockhart, your Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. A few days ago, he suddenly came over and said he had a way to make the pumpkins grow bigger. Then he waved his wand around for ages, and the charm he cast ended up shrinking a whole patch of pumpkins! Those pumpkins are about the size of my fist. What use are they?"
Lucien glanced at Hagrid's fist, which was actually bigger than a casserole. Pumpkins that size were technically usable, though compared to magical pumpkins, they were indeed too small.
Hagrid seemed unusually eager to complain about someone, and once he started, he couldn't stop.
"And even earlier, Lockhart actually tried to teach me how to stop merpeople from getting into the well! Like I wouldn't know that! Oh, and he went on about driving away werewolves and repelling banshees…"
"The last time he came, he even chatted with me about powerful magical creatures like dragons and chimaeras, but everything he said was wrong! He even asked where he could get large quantities of their blood. Does Lockhart seriously think those creatures are in the Forbidden Forest?"
As he spoke, Hagrid let out another deep sigh.
"It's really hard to find a Defense Against the Dark Arts professor these days. Everyone thinks the position is cursed and doesn't want it. Dumbledore must see Lockhart's problems, but he's probably the only option this year."
________
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