The Black Bloodline of Hogwarts

"All faculty and staff, please proceed to the second-floor hallway!"

"All faculty and staff, please proceed to the second-floor corridor immediately!"

Professor McGonagall's voice grew more and more anxious with each passing moment.

"Has something happened again?" All the young wizards who heard the sound were exchanging questions.

"Listen, all Gryffindor students are not allowed to leave their rooms. Go back to your dormitories!" Percy shouted from the side.

As Harry and Ron hesitated at the dormitory door about whether to eavesdrop on anything else, Hermione rushed up the spiral staircase.

"Hey, Hermione, what are you doing in the boys' dorm?" Ron asked in surprise.

"Yes, Ginny, Ginny is missing."

"What?! Ginny." Ron's face showed disbelief.

"Stop dawdling, you two come with me!" Hermione then demonstrated her decisiveness.

The three of them tiptoed out of the Gryffindor common room and went to the second-floor corridor, where most of the school's teachers were gathered.

"Her remains will remain in the secret chamber forever."

A line of large, blood-red characters was written on the wall of the second-floor corridor, as if afraid that others would not notice it.

"Who is it? Who is in trouble?" Mrs. Pomfrey asked.

"Ginny Weasley is missing. It's been confirmed," Professor McGonagall replied, her face grim.

"Sorry, something came up. Did I miss something?" a flamboyant voice rang out.

"Look at this line of text, it also says Ginny Weasley is missing."

"Oh dear, that's so unfortunate!"

"Is it your turn to make a move now, Professor Lockhart?" Snape asked with a grim face.

"Yes, Lockhart. Didn't you say you could find the entrance to the secret room with ease?" Professor McGonagall retorted sarcastically.

"Yes, uh, I meant I'd like to go get ready." Lockhart turned around, his smile vanishing instantly. "My mission doesn't include secret rooms."

After the teachers left, three young wizards emerged from behind a suit of armor.

"What do we do? Why did it have to be Ginny?" Ron said with a mournful face.

"Come on, let's go find Julien." Hermione pulled the two of them and ran towards the Ravenclaw Tower again.

"Why look for Julien?" Ron asked, puzzled.

---

"Please listen to the question."

Just as the three were stopped at the entrance to the Ravenclaw lounge, the door suddenly opened from the inside, and a small silver-haired head peeked out.

"Huh? Are you also here looking for the Short-tailed Snoring Beast?" It was Luna.

"Short-tailed...what kind of beast is that?"

"No, we're looking for someone," Hermione quickly interrupted the two men's doubts. "Is Julien there? Please call him."

"Oh, what a coincidence. I saw him just leave."

Where did he go?

"I don't know. But he goes out late at night every few days, so you don't need to worry about him."

"Why should we worry about him? Ugh, it's too late, let's go!"

"Shall we go find Professor McGonagall?" Hermione asked Harry, who remained her pillar of support when Hermione was unsure.

"Let's go find Lockhart first," Harry said decisively.

"Why would you want to find that good-for-nothing?" Ron asked, puzzled.

Hermione gave him a disapproving look but didn't say anything. After getting to know him, Hermione did indeed feel that Lockhart was somewhat overrated.

"At least he's a professor, and he's looking for the entrance to the secret room. We should share what we know with him; saving lives is the priority."

They found him in the attic of the Defense Against the Dark Arts class, the same room Lockhart used to send and receive fan mail.

The door wasn't locked. The three of them froze for a moment as they pushed it open.

Lockhart's luggage was already packed. Two large suitcases lay open on the floor, filled with his signed color photos, a dozen banners, and several bottles of his own hair care products.

He was bending over, stuffing a peacock blue robe with gold trim into a box. He was stuffing it in so fast that the sleeves were sticking out like a dying tail.

"Professor, where are you going?" Several people asked at the same time. Lockhart's appearance clearly indicated that he was not going to rescue anyone, but rather that he was going to run away.

"Ah." Lockhart straightened up, his smile still perfectly natural, but a twitch at the corner of his eye betrayed him. "Children. You've come. That's wonderful, I was just about to—"

"Uh, just a short while—I'll be leaving for a bit." Lockhart roughly shoved the sleeve inside and slammed the suitcase shut. "The Ministry of Magic has an urgent matter, I'm being summoned urgently, top secret, I can't say more—"

Under the watchful eyes of the three, Lockhart's voice grew softer and softer, and his smile froze on his face.

There was a two-second silence in the room. Then Ron made a strange sound that was somewhere between a "ha" and an "oh".

"You're getting ready to run away," Harry said.

"A strategic shift," Lockhart quickly corrected. "A writer needs a safe environment to create. You're too young to understand—"

"What about the locked room?" Hermione asked. "Ginny's still down there."

"Right! That!" Lockhart clapped his hands, as if he had just remembered. "That's why I'm leaving—I mean, to get help! You don't know, dealing with this level of dark magic requires special international qualifications, and I know a Greek expert, he—"

"You're the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, and last week you said you knew everything," Harry interrupted coldly.

"Did I say that?" Lockhart blinked. "I must have misremembered. To err is human—"

As he spoke, he quietly moved toward the door, but before he had taken even half a step, Ron had already raised his wand and blocked his way.

"But you've written so many books and have such a wealth of experience." Hermione still couldn't accept Lockhart in front of her.

"Fool! I only write stories! Other people's stories!" Lockhart finally dropped his pretense and said angrily.

"So you really are a liar!" Hermione exclaimed, her eyes wide with anger.

"How can this be called a scam? It's artistic license. Would anyone really go to see an old man having an affair with the ghost Wanlun?"

"But my sister's life is still hanging in the balance, can't you do anything about it?" Ron shouted anxiously.

"I understand your feelings, really." Lockhart raised his hands, making a sincere gesture.

"But you need to analyze this rationally. Which has a greater impact on the school's reputation: a celebrity dying here or a student dying here? My staying here won't benefit anyone—"

"Speaking of what I can do, I do have something I'm good at. That is the Oblivion Charm... Otherwise, how can I sell books using other people's stories?" Lockhart said, reaching for his wand.

"Don't move!" Hermione's wand was already pressed against his head.

"Don't be impulsive, kids, oh dear!"

He didn't finish his sentence because Harry had already made his move. Not a spell, but a fist.

That was what Julien had taught him to use against Dali: "Step forward in a horse stance, left hook, right hook."

Ron later insisted that he counted it, and it was three times in total.

The first blow landed on his stomach, and Lockhart bent over. The second blow landed on his face, and he straightened up. The third blow landed on his stomach, and he bent over again.