Yes, why did the culprit have to be a student?
Wasn't Lockhart also one of the 'newcomers'?
And most crucially, he was the Defence Against the Dark Arts professor.
Given that position's notorious history, nothing would be surprising.
It's just that no one had considered that possibility before.
Lockhart was merely incompetent, the butt of many jokes – hardly someone who seemed like a villain.
But upon reflection today, they realised something was amiss.
"I'm heading back first," said the girl who first made the Lockhart connection, grabbing her books and hurrying out of the library.
The others quickly excused themselves, too, eager to share their astonishing discovery elsewhere.
Soon, only Grace remained.
"Mission accomplished," the senior student murmured, her alluring red lips curling as she returned to her book.
"'How to Seduce a Married Wizard'... this actually makes sense..."
...
"That fast?"
In the Hufflepuff common room, Wayne looked at Grace in astonishment.
"How long did you expect it to take?" The senior rolled her eyes. "Just tell the biggest gossips, and soon everyone will know."
"Brilliant work." Wayne gave her a thumbs-up. "You'd be perfect for the newspaper business."
"By the way, senior, what career path are you planning to choose?"
"I want to travel the world first. As for work... I'll decide when I feel like it."
Grace would graduate at the end of this term.
Seventh-year students filled out career preference forms around Easter – essentially vocational surveys – and the school helped arrange interviews.
Though placement wasn't guaranteed, it provided opportunities.
Knowing Grace had good grades, Wayne had expected her to name popular choices like the Ministry of Magic or Gringotts. Her answer took him by surprise.
"Shocked?" Grace leaned lazily against the sofa. "School's been exhausting enough. Starting work immediately after graduation leaves no free time at all."
"Money can be earned anytime. But youth... that only lasts a few years."
"If you don't play now, you won't have the energy when you're old."
"Quite the free spirit." Wayne could only give a thumbs-up, admiring her attitude.
"Aren't you here for me?" Grace suddenly leaned in, pressing her delicate frame against Wayne as she said pitifully: "If this senior can't afford meals in the future, you'll help me, won't you?"
"Don't worry, senior." Wayne nodded emphatically. "I'll use the money my sugar mummy gives me to support you then."
Grace paused briefly upon hearing this, then burst into laughter.
"Deal! It's a promise!"
...
The gossip power of girls is limitless.
Grace's tactic proved remarkably effective – by that very evening, Lockhart had become the prime suspect.
In everyone's minds, an adult wizard committing misdeeds was far more plausible than a first-year student.
Moreover, this involved the notoriously cursed position of Defence Against the Dark Arts professor.
The young wizards aligned their perspectives, expanded their strategic approach, focused on core values, and fully leveraged their initiative – deciding to take proactive measures.
Just like last time, they would lodge a direct complaint with Dumbledore.
The badgers sought out Wayne, hoping he'd lead the charge, but he refused.
"I won't be going. This wasn't my idea to begin with, and I'd advise against all of you going together," Wayne cautioned. "If Lockhart isn't the culprit, falsely accusing a professor carries severe consequences."
"Best send anonymous letters. If discovered, deny everything."
The young wizards nodded emphatically.
Armed with Wayne's advice, when delivering letters to the eighth-floor gargoyle, the badgers covered their faces and swapped their Hufflepuff badges for other houses'.
The most frequent scapegoats weren't Slytherin, but Gryffindor.
This was precisely the sort of thing everyone expected from young lions.
When Lockhart reappeared at school looking utterly drained, students gave him a wide berth as if he were some fearsome beast.
Just as Lockhart was puzzling over this, Snape materialised before him.
Now it was Lockhart's turn to recoil, his face paling.
"Severus, I swear those little brats weren't acting on my orders! I've been wronged too!"
On Valentine's evening, Snape had stormed into his office in a rage, subdued him, and accused him of sending those cards.
Before he could protest, he'd been force-fed an entire bottle of Draught of Living Death.
He'd only just woken today, nearly starving to death.
"Whether it was you hardly matters now," Snape sneered. "Come with me. Professor Dumbledore wishes to see you."
Baffled but compliant, Lockhart followed.
...
An hour later, Lockhart emerged from the Headmaster's Office beaming, practically skipping back to his quarters.
But the moment his door closed, the facade vanished, replaced by grim severity.
Seated at his desk, Lockhart retrieved Tom Riddle's Diary from his bottom drawer and began scribbling furiously.
"Tom, what do I do? The students already suspect me."
The ink absorbed, then moments later, fresh writing appeared.
[Mr Lockhart, don't panic yet. I need details about the situation.]
Lockhart transcribed everything Dumbledore had told him.
Tom's response came slower this time – a full two minutes passed before the reply:
[Admittedly crude reasoning, yet they've stumbled upon the truth by accident.]
[Wouldn't you say we've been rather unlucky?]
"Tom, this isn't the time for glib remarks! The priority is proving my innocence."
"No – escaping suspicion altogether!"
Lockhart's handwriting grew jagged with agitation.
Had Wayne witnessed this exchange, he'd have been astonished by their dynamic and Lockhart's demeanour.
In his assumptions, a fool like Lockhart would gradually have his mind eroded and body usurped by Tom, who'd then act unchecked.
Yet reality proved otherwise. Lockhart clearly knew what he had done and that it was related to Tom.
[No need to be nervous. They have no evidence, and the Chamber isn't something these people can find. Otherwise, I would have been sent to Azkaban fifty years ago.]
[If you want to shake off suspicion, it's actually quite simple—just launch another attack.]
Lockhart could hardly believe his eyes. He stared blankly for a long moment before writing: "Are you mad? I'm already under suspicion. If I launch another attack, Dumbledore will be even more wary of me."
[Just secure an alibi, that's all. Don't you have that thing? It should still work a few more times, right?]
Lockhart's gaze sharpened.
"Last time, Harry Potter was here, but those little wizards didn't care at all."
[One person's testimony is always weak. You need more witnesses.]
Tom slowly wrote out his plan. After reading it, Lockhart agreed without hesitation.
[I no longer have the power to open the Chamber, Mr Lockhart. I need your help.]
"What do you want this time?" Lockhart was instantly on guard.
[Just some simple creatures and materials. Please don't worry. I'm merely a memory, devoted entirely to serving you.]
[I was the one who attacked the students. I was the one who opened the Chamber. And later, when you destroy me and reveal the truth to the world, you'll be the hero who saved the school.]
[By then, you won't just receive the Order of Merlin, First Class—you'll gain immense prestige. Becoming Minister for Magic won't even be a fantasy.]
Lockhart's breathing grew rapid, but he still wasn't entirely convinced.
"I still don't understand what you gain from this, Tom."
"Why do I feel like you're even more invested than I am?"
After a two-second pause, Tom finally gave his answer.
[My goal is revenge against Dumbledore. He was the one who destroyed me back then. I never meant to kill that student, yet he insisted I was the murderer, leaving me to die in despair.]
[Before my death, I fused all my thoughts, magical power, and memories into this diary—just to take my revenge on him.]
[Mr Lockhart, you needn't worry about me posing any threat to you. I'm merely a memory.]
Lockhart's expression softened slightly.
Yes, this was just a memory, a magical object.
And memories were something he excelled at handling.
In the end, Lockhart made his decision.
He knew exactly what he was doing, but the rewards were simply too great to resist.
By using the Chamber to stage attacks, then stepping forward as the saviour to slay the Basilisk and destroy the diary, he would gain unparalleled prestige.
As long as he wasn't caught, there was no danger.
What trouble could a mere diary cause without borrowing his power?
At this thought, Lockhart couldn't help but smile.
The greater the storm, the higher the price of the catch.
If they were going to stage attacks, they might as well make it spectacular.
...
Two days later, a new notice for the Duelling Club was posted on the bulletin board.
Under normal circumstances, the young wizards would have been thrilled.
But given Lockhart's recent reputation, many hesitated, too nervous to participate.
By evening, the Great Hall was noticeably emptier than usual, with attendance down by twenty or thirty per cent.
Wayne stood beside Cho as the two discussed their weekend plans to visit Hogsmeade.
The girl looked worried. "I wonder if there'll still be an open day in this situation."
Last month's open day had occurred before the attack incidents, so it hadn't been affected. But now, things were uncertain.
"Even without an open day, we could still sneak out," Wayne said, taking the girl's small hand in his. "I know a passage that leads straight to the Hog's Head. It's been ages since we had Aberforth's roasted pork knuckle."
At his words, Cho unconsciously swallowed. Aberforth's cooking truly was excellent.
"Where's this secret passage?"
"In the Room of Requirement."
As they spoke, Lockhart and Snape entered, and the previously noisy Great Hall immediately fell silent.
Lockhart strode confidently onto the raised platform and announced loudly:
"Before the Duelling Club begins, there are some matters I need to address."
"Recently, for some reason, many rumours have spread through the castle claiming I'm the one who opened the Chamber of Secrets."
"I won't investigate the origins of these rumours, nor will I punish anyone for them. But I want to make one thing clear..."
Lockhart suddenly raised his voice, becoming impassioned:
"Everyone who comes to Hogwarts is intelligent. I urge you all to keep your eyes open and not be deceived by those with ulterior motives!"
The Great Hall remained silent, no one daring to speak openly.
Unperturbed, Lockhart continued: "You all know my achievements. Throughout my life, I've battled against evil."
"I've thwarted Vampire attacks, subdued enraged Werewolves, persuaded female spirits towards goodness, and danced with yetis."
"The culprit hiding in the shadows fears me, which is why they're deliberately directing suspicion towards me."
"But what they don't know is that I, Gilderoy Lockhart, holder of the Order of Merlin, Third Class, five-time winner of Witch Weekly's Most Charming Smile Award, am utterly unafraid of slander!"
Lockhart swung his arm dramatically. "Now that I'm here, I will catch the culprit and restore Hogwarts Castle to a safe learning environment!"
"That's all. Thank you!"
Lockhart bowed deeply. The young wizards exchanged glances until someone began clapping, prompting scattered applause throughout the Great Hall.
Only then did the Duelling Club properly begin.
Some students believed Lockhart's impassioned speech, but most remained sceptical.
The atmosphere in the Great Hall grew tense. Wherever Lockhart went, the young wizards' spells would misfire, some hitting Lockhart himself and leaving him in disarray.
This further eroded people's confidence in him.
Snape took Malfoy's place as Harry's opponent, ostensibly to teach him the Shield Charm.
With casual flicks of his wand, Snape sent various spells crashing against Harry's shield, forcing him backwards step by step.
The greasy bat sneered, "You expect such a feeble shield to protect you? I'm holding back tremendously, terrified I might knock you out with one blow."
Harry narrowed his eyes in anger, gripping his wand tightly before casting a silent Disarming Charm. A satisfied glint flashed through Snape's eyes as his wand flicked dismissively, deflecting the red streak of light.
"Is that all? Do you just stand there gaping after casting a spell while your opponent counters it?"
"Keep attacking, Potter!"
Bang!
The doors of the Great Hall burst open as Professor McGonagall strode in.
"Everyone, stop! Stop this at once!"
The students lowered their wands, looking at her in confusion. Professor McGonagall's facial muscles twitched, her breathing laboured from hurrying.
"Prefects, take attendance of all students present. Submit the list to me immediately, then return to your dormitories and stay there."
"Anyone who disobeys will be sent home personally by me!"
Snape instinctively sensed trouble and hurried to McGonagall's side. "Professor McGonagall, has there been another attack?"
Professor McGonagall nodded with closed eyes. "Snape, come with me. The students attacked this time are Crabbe and Goyle from your house... and the Bloody Baron."
"What?!"
Malfoy exclaimed incredulously, "You're saying it was Crabbe and Goyle?"
"How is that possible! You must be joking, it's not even April Fools' Day yet."
McGonagall immediately fixed him with her hawk-like gaze. "Malfoy, do you think I would joke about something like this?"
"But... but they're pure-bloods!" Malfoy refused to believe it.
"Yes, pure-bloods." McGonagall scanned the room, noting the identical expressions of shock on the faces of Slytherin's young snakes.
"This fully proves that everyone is in danger now. No matter which house you belong to, don't entertain any illusions of safety!"
With that, McGonagall pulled Snape out of the Great Hall, while Lockhart called after them loudly:
"I'll come too – this is my area of expertise."
Following McGonagall's instructions, the Prefects recorded everyone's names before escorting their respective housemates back to the common rooms.
Upon returning, everyone gathered to discuss what had actually happened.
Wayne, however, went straight to his dormitory and climbed into his suitcase.
"Gardevoir."
Pop!
Gardevoir Disapparated and appeared before him.
"Did you see who opened the Chamber of Secrets just now?"
"Gardevoir!"
A blue light flashed in Gardevoir's eyes as she used her psychic abilities to transmit her memories into Wayne's mind.
In the vision, a tall, hooded figure entered the second-floor girls' lavatory, stood before a tap for a moment, then opened a secret passageway.
As the hooded figure jumped down, their hood fell back.
It was unmistakably Lockhart!
Wayne's expression turned peculiar.
Things were getting more and more interesting...
At that exact moment, Lockhart had been inside the Great Hall.
Polyjuice Potion? Or... some other method?