— — — — — —
While Barty was busy dying of secondhand embarrassment, someone else had been stirred by Voldemort's words.
The one who'd been ignored the entire time—
Gilderoy Lockhart
The overwhelming, destructive power contained within an Obscurus was exactly what he longed for. That kind of terrifying force, the kind that could make countless people fear him… it could fill the emptiness and inferiority buried deep inside him.
He took a deep breath and spoke.
"My lord… since you don't intend to deal with Ariana Dumbledore's Obscurus for now, perhaps you could try developing one within me for research purposes. For your sake, I'm willing to offer up my life."
Voldemort looked at him in surprise.
Lockhart was sweating all over, his body trembling uncontrollably. Yet his gaze was unwavering, locked directly onto Voldemort without the slightest hint of retreat.
He had never seen that look on Lockhart before.
There was something burning in his eyes—desire, ambition, raw and unfiltered.
Voldemort suddenly smiled.
He had always liked that kind of look.
Especially when it came from someone like Lockhart, someone utterly harmless to him.
It gave him a clear sense of control. Of deciding another person's fate. Of granting power like a god.
"Very good, Gilderoy…" Voldemort said as he slowly walked over, circling him with an amused smile. "I underestimated you before. A greedy raven from Rowena Ravenclaw's house… I like that greed. Go make your preparations."
Lockhart was overjoyed… and completely confused.
"Prepare what?"
Voldemort let out a cold laugh, his voice laced with cruel amusement.
"Prepare a memory. The more painful, the more suffocating, the better. Only that kind of torment can nurture an Obscurus with real potential."
...
Inside the Study Space, Rowena Ravenclaw had no idea that she and her house had just been insulted again through Lockhart. She was currently discussing Daphne's Patronus with Tom and Andros.
Morgan wanted to join in, but magic like the Patronus, which relied on positive emotion, felt far too "clean" for a dark witch like her. It even made her a little uncomfortable. In the end, she could only sit off to the side, idly swinging her legs and listening.
"The core of this spell has already changed," Andros said, taking the lead. In the field of Patronuses, he had more authority than anyone.
"The Patronus formed from emotion and magic now carries too much of your imprint, Tom. Emotion, magic, and your power are all supporting each other—a three-way balance."
"This change weakens its natural advantage against dark magic and Dementors, but in exchange, it gains a lot of… unusual abilities. It's a trade-off."
As he spoke, Andros summoned his own Patronus, trying to replicate what Daphne had done by "adding something extra" to it.
But it failed.
Ravenclaw quickly spotted the issue.
"The problem lies with Tom. You don't possess his particular traits—or rather, you lack a force of equal level that can stand alongside the Patronus."
That was the classic limitation of a specialist.
Andros was incredibly powerful, but his strength had always been concentrated in his Patronus. He had spent a lifetime refining it, pushing it to its absolute limits.
Which also meant… breaking past those limits was far harder for him than for anyone else.
Morgan's eyes lit up as she leaned forward.
"Want to try learning dark magic?" she asked eagerly.
Andros twitched, clearly caught off guard. Not wanting to offend her, he could only refuse politely. "Lady Morgan, I truly have no talent for dark magic. If you don't believe me, ask Tom."
"Stop causing trouble."
Tom dragged his gaze away from the witch's long legs and casually pushed her head aside.
The two of them had grown familiar enough that he didn't bother being polite anymore. He'd learned that with Morgan, politeness only encouraged her to push her luck.
Sure enough, Morgan didn't get angry at all. She just muttered under her breath, sounding annoyed.
"Someone who can't even learn dark magic? Impossible. How can the so-called century king be this dumb?"
Andros's old face flushed red.
Well… sorry for being a specialist, I guess.
Tom thought for a moment before offering, "My suggestion is to look into ancient magic. Try integrating astral magic into your Patronus. You might get some interesting results."
Seeing that Andros had picked up a bit of inspiration, Tom withdrew from the study space.
Back in the Dream Arena, the nine judges had reached their decisions. The scoring phase began, each judge projecting their score into the sky for all to see.
First up was the little fox Kamio.
Unsurprisingly, a perfect ninety points.
Fastest time, cleanest execution, smoothest process. If that didn't earn full marks, no one else stood a chance.
When it came to Jauncey, however, the judges' opinions began to diverge.
Aside from Fontaine, who gave a full ten without hesitation, the rest scored noticeably lower. In the end, Jauncey only managed sixty-seven points.
"This is blatant bias!" Fontaine slammed the table, instantly turning red with anger.
Crouch shot back coldly, "Jauncey performed well at the start, but his Transfiguration destroyed a dragon egg. He also relied on the dragonologists to escape. Deductions are only fair."
The other judges nodded in agreement.
They were all respectable figures. No one would deliberately lowball a score in public. But if there was a legitimate reason to deduct points, none of them would hold back either.
Seeing no one support him, Fontaine huffed, flicked his sleeve, and sat down in a sulk, silently cursing every judge present.
Next was Nassim.
Charging straight through dragonfire into the cave had been impressive, but he was injured, and he failed to conceal the golden egg. Points were deducted accordingly. Still, he scored higher than Jauncey, at least without destroying any dragon eggs.
Of course, another reason was that Okeye wasn't as shameless as Fontaine—he hadn't handed out a perfect score to his own student.
Then came Quinta.
Her druidic transformations were a highlight. Turning into magical creatures earned her plenty of extra points. Headmaster Sanchez from Castelobruxo gave her a perfect score, and Fontaine threw in another ten for good measure.
Quinta finished with seventy-two points.
Grindelwald glanced casually at Sanchez and Fontaine, a hint of amusement in his eyes. That single look made Sanchez break into a cold sweat. He quickly lowered his head, staring intently at the scores in the sky as if they were piles of gold, not daring to meet Grindelwald's gaze.
Next was Fleur.
Aside from Madame Maxime, who gave her a ten without hesitation, every other judge gave her an eight. She ended up with seventy-four points.
Fleur wasn't surprised.
The moment she realized Kamio had used the same strategy—and finished much faster—she knew a perfect score was out of reach. This result was well within expectations.
Finally, it was Ariana's turn.
Grindelwald and Dumbledore raised their hands almost at the same time. Two dazzling tens shot into the sky, dominating the view with overwhelming presence.
Bagman hesitated for a moment.
Then he projected a nine.
Dumbledore's gaze snapped toward him like a blade, unmistakably displeased.
"Ludo… are you saying Ariana's performance wasn't perfect?"
"Uh… of course it was," Bagman stammered, cold sweat breaking out across his forehead. He could feel Grindelwald watching him too. "Miss Ariana was just slightly slower in retrieving the egg, so a point deduction would be reasonable. But she also defeated the dragon head-on, which deserves an extra point. So… ten!"
The "9" in the sky awkwardly sprouted an extra stroke, turning into a "10."
Only then did Dumbledore smile kindly at him.
Watching from the side, Tom couldn't help but look away.
The double standard was way too obvious.
Back in the original story, when Harry Potter competed, Igor Karkaroff had given him a four, and Dumbledore hadn't said a word.
Now someone dared deduct even a single point from Ariana, and he was ready to argue it down.
Unbelievable.
Of course, not everyone was as spineless as Bagman.
Crouch firmly gave an eight, completely unmoved by the glares from Dumbledore and Grindelwald.
The other headmasters saw this and quickly followed suit, all giving eights.
No one wanted to be the first to stand out.
But once someone else did, going along with it was easy.
In the end, Ariana scored seventy-eight points.
She herself didn't care much—her mind was already drifting toward grilling some dragon meat later.
But Dumbledore was visibly annoyed, and in the stands. Meanwhile, Aberforth was glaring viciously at the other headmasters.
When they got back, he was absolutely going to contact Grindelwald, lure those headmasters out and give them a proper "lesson" on how to score fairly.
.
.
.