Regarding Gilderoy Lockhart's wish to "make all magical and non-magical people live in harmony," Tom Riddle in his true form expressed strong disdain, but then his tone shifted.
"However, when Lockhart told me he would become Hogwarts' Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, the situation changed entirely."
At this moment, Riddle's smile rivaled that of Lockhart, who had once won five Most Charming Smile awards.
"I patiently began playing the role of a close friend, writing responses to fill his vanity with sweet words and satisfy his arrogance with false wisdom...
Finally, Lockhart began to trust me gradually and brought my diary to Hogwarts.
However, he still maintained some wariness toward me, unwilling to use the magic I taught him to show off, preferring to try things himself.
Originally, I was somewhat worried, but I didn't expect that even I had overestimated his abilities—mere Cornish Pixies hardly deserved to be called trouble, yet he was completely helpless!"
Speaking of this, Riddle's face even showed a trace of disappointed resignation.
Sherlock and Hermione exchanged glances but said nothing.
"The final result, as you've seen, was entirely within my control.
With the foundation of that first class, he began relying on me more and more in subsequent lessons.
I'm not boasting, Holmes—I've always been able to employ different methods for different people, bewitching them at will.
So, this fool went from initial distrust to complete obedience, until... he opened his entire soul to me.
And that was exactly what I needed."
Riddle spread his arms, savoring the sensation of power surging through him.
"The moment he opened his soul, I greedily absorbed it like a basilisk devouring prey—his fears, his secrets, his deepest desires.
I devoured his most hidden fears and deepest secrets, my appetite growing ever larger.
I gradually grew stronger, far stronger than this gentleman who only knew Memory Charms.
Strong enough to reveal some of my secrets to Mr. Lockhart and begin opening a small part of my own soul to him.
Gradually, I transformed from a mere memory into an existence capable of controlling flesh and blood...
As you can see, Mr. Lockhart simply fell in love with me."
Sherlock frowned. He disliked this phrasing.
"Professor Lockhart's increasing confidence in later classes represented your growing control over him."
"Quite right, Holmes," Tom looked at Sherlock with interest, "Now you should be able to guess the course of events?"
"Not 'guess'—deduce."
Sherlock looked at Riddle. "The sequence of events is obvious.
You controlled Lockhart to open the Chamber, had him kill the school's roosters, released Slytherin's basilisk to attack students, including a cat and a ghost.
What I don't understand is why you initially had Pansy write those words on the wall when you could have had Lockhart do it directly."
"Ah yes, that was indeed unexpected."
Riddle burst into laughter again, this time cold and harsh, nothing like the sound a sixteen-year-old should make.
This made both Hermione and the invisible Harry's neck hairs stand on end.
After a moment, he stopped his cold laughter and spoke in a fierce tone.
"That filthy, lowly Mudblood—when he discovered my purpose, he actually tried to control me in return, to use me for himself!
He even promised to share that supreme honor with me in the future—to become the hero who brought wizards and Muggles into harmony?
Simply... disgusting!"
"I think that's where Professor Lockhart is more noble than you."
Sherlock said coldly. "Because he wouldn't do such things personally, you found a way to control Pansy?"
"Hah, he indeed refused to do it initially, so I could only make others do it through him. That consumed considerable power...
But no matter. From the moment he agreed to open the Chamber, his life was no longer his own.
Speaking of which, I should thank him for fulfilling my wish and letting me enjoy the pleasure of being a Defense Against the Dark Arts professor.
Mr. Holmes, this is also why I'm not unfamiliar with you all—after all, I was your teacher for an entire Year!
However, among all the students I taught this term, only you and Harry Potter deserve my respect."
"Thank you."
"Don't mention it."
After thoroughly humiliating Lockhart, Riddle resumed his elegant demeanor.
"Mr. Lockhart told me all about Harry Potter's thrilling adventures, filling me with interest in this wizarding world Savior.
I tried to convince him to give the diary to Harry. If I could meet Harry, I would certainly let this Savior witness my capture of that big oaf Hagrid, gaining his trust.
Unfortunately, this was the one thing Mr. Lockhart absolutely refused—such a pity!"
At this moment, Harry standing beside Sherlock was seething with rage.
He used all his strength to control himself, barely restraining the urge to rush forward and punch Riddle.
His clenched fists were gripping so tightly that his slightly sharp nails dug deep into his palms, bringing waves of piercing pain.
"Actually, I think you should thank the Ministry of Magic."
"Why do you say that, Mr. Holmes?"
"If they hadn't been so eager to close the case and randomly found a culprit, your frame-up job was full of holes.
From any perspective, Rubeus Hagrid—a half-giant sorted into Gryffindor could never be Slytherin's heir."
"Hahahaha!" Riddle laughed again, "Sherlock Holmes, no, Sherlock, you really are..."
He studied Sherlock with an appreciative gaze.
"Absolutely correct! But consider what was in front of Headmaster Armando Dippet.
Tom Riddle—poor but brilliant, orphaned but intelligent and brave, a prefect and model student.
Rubeus Hagrid, crude and clumsy, causing trouble weekly, keeping werewolf cubs under his bed, sneaking into the Forbidden Forest to wrestle trolls.
Anyone with a functioning brain wouldn't suspect me, would they?
Though I admit, even I didn't expect the plan to execute so smoothly.
You know, it took me five full years to figure out the Chamber's situation and discover that secret entrance.
Even setting aside Hagrid's background, that big fool could never have had the brains and ability to accomplish such a thing."
"That's exactly why I said you should thank the Ministry. Without them, your plan wouldn't have succeeded so smoothly."
"Yes, yes, I'll thank them properly when I get the chance, though Transfiguration teacher Dumbledore firmly believed Hagrid was innocent.
Not only that, he convinced Dippet to keep Hagrid and train him as gamekeeper.
I must say, though Dumbledore personally brought me to Hogwarts, he didn't like me as much as other teachers did."
"I must say, these words of yours have improved my impression of Dumbledore somewhat."
Sherlock glanced imperceptibly in a certain direction, "Let's continue our conversation. Tell me what you did afterward and why you remained in the diary."
"After Hagrid's expulsion, I knew it wouldn't be safe to open the Chamber again while at school."
"You do have some self-awareness."
"Thank you for the compliment, Sherlock."
"Don't mention it, Riddle."
Their exchange was the reverse of before.
This made Hermione frown. She felt something was wrong with the current situation.
Whether it was Sherlock or Tom Riddle, both seemed rather too abnormal, didn't they?
Based on last years' experience, shouldn't they start fighting the moment they met?
But now...
One elegant and composed, the other calm and collected.
Judging solely by their attitudes, they seemed more like old friends reuniting after years apart, without a trace of hostility.
Under Hermione's puzzled gaze, Riddle manipulated Lockhart's wand through a series of dazzlingly complex movements, continuing leisurely.
"I didn't want to waste all those years of effort searching for the Chamber, so I decided to leave behind a diary, preserving my sixteen-year-old self within those pages.
This way, someday I could rely on fortune to guide another person along my path, completing Salazar Slytherin's noble work."
"Later, your real self-gave the diary containing your sixteen-year-old memories to Lucius Malfoy at some point," Sherlock sighed, "Your luck was good—you just escaped the opening term inspection."
"I heard about this from Mr. Lockhart too."
Riddle glanced at Lockhart again, saying somewhat contemptuously, "But even if they had searched him, I don't think this diary I created could have been detected."
"You certainly have confidence in yourself."
"Naturally, for I am the greatest wizard in history!"
"Is that why you abandoned the name Tom Riddle?"
"What else? Do you think I should use my filthy Muggle father's name forever?
You should know that Salazar Slytherin's own blood flows through my veins, passed down through his descendant daughter!
That disgusting ordinary Muggle abandoned me before I was even born, just because he discovered his wife was a witch!
No, Sherlock, I created a new name for myself.
Because I knew that someday, when I became the world's greatest wizard, wizards everywhere would dare not speak this name lightly.
From the current perspective, I succeeded!"
"No, you didn't."
Sherlock said bluntly. "The two people standing before you can easily say that name—Voldemort."
To echo Sherlock, Hermione quickly added. "Voldemort."
After saying this, she deliberately traced two light scratches in Sherlock's palm with her finger.
Noticing Hermione's small gesture, Sherlock turned to look at her.
Hermione: ヾ(≧O≦)〜
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