The Black Bloodline of Hogwarts

"Lockhart, you, you've gone mad, haven't you?" Harry exclaimed.

Lockhart grinned, a smile that looked particularly menacing on his dusty face, a stark contrast to his usual carefully maintained "charming smile."

His wand rested firmly against Hermione's temple, its tip gleaming with a dangerous silvery-white light.

"Oh, Potter, Potter," Lockhart said in an exaggerated, dramatic tone, "you think the great Gilderoy Lockhart would be brought down by a mere Reflection Charm? I've learned a thousand ways to protect myself while dealing with the Wren's Ghost!"

As he spoke, he used his other hand to rip open his tattered collar, revealing a brooch hanging around his neck—an extravagant gold badge engraved with a peacock spreading its wings, which was now emitting a faint magical glow.

"An automatic protective badge," Lockhart introduced smugly, "handcrafted by a Romanian goblin artisan, worth three hundred gallons. Any malicious spell cast against me will be absorbed by it once. Once a day. How about that?"

"Of course, to make it look realistic, I just pretended to be hit. After all," he winked, "the best actors know when to take a break between scenes."

"How is Ron?" Harry's voice trembled with anger.

"Don't worry, he was just knocked unconscious," Lockhart shrugged nonchalantly. "That idiot's been digging at rocks like crazy, and he dared to turn his back to me. Well, don't blame me for that."

Hermione struggled slightly in his grasp, and Lockhart immediately tightened his grip, pressing his wand against her temple.

"Don't move, Miss Granger. Your head is full of valuable knowledge—though most of it is dead stuff from books, but it's better than being a fool who remembers nothing. Haha."

At this moment, Julien quietly took a step forward and patted the dust off his robe.

He discreetly slipped his right hand behind his back and made a gesture to Rozier and Liria—their pre-arranged code: distract them and prepare for a counterattack.

"So," Julien began in a casual, conversational tone, "you've been playing dumb from the beginning? From when? From when you said 'Peschich Pixie-Pestronmi'?"

Lockhart's expression froze for a moment, then he became furious: "That's art! Artistic disguise! You think I really can't handle a few Cornish elves? I was just... just assessing your combat capabilities!"

"How did the evaluation go?" Julien asked sincerely. "Did we pass?"

"Hmph, aside from Miss Granger barely passing, the others..." Lockhart scoffed, then realized something, "Shut up! This isn't the time to chat!"

Lockhart's gaze swept across the entire Chamber of Secrets, landing on the empty crescent-shaped recess at the base of the Slytherin statue. His pupils suddenly contracted: "What did you just get, Black?"

This is not a question.

"What did you say? I don't understand." Julien looked completely bewildered.

"Stop pretending, I saw it all. You pried it off the statue."

"Oh, you mean this? This beautiful black crystal?"

Julien slowly took the star fragment out of his pocket, waved it in his hand, and said, "So you like collecting stones too. You should have said so earlier."

Upon seeing the meteorite, Lockhart's breathing quickened, and a greedy glint appeared in his eyes.

"That's it! What the Moonshadow Council wants! 'Star Fragments'! Why do you think I'm a professor at this run-down school? For the worship of you brats? Or really to help you kill the Basilisk?"

He let out a piercing laugh: "I did it for it! For this stone! The council promised that if I could bring it back, I would gain true power—not false glory stolen from the memories of others, but a legend truly mine!"

"I see," Julien nodded in sudden realization, "So all the experiences in your books were stolen..."

"It's all true. I 'borrowed' it from their minds using the Oblivion Charm. How can it be considered 'stealing'?" Lockhart even proudly puffed out his chest as he spoke.

"But that's in the past! Once I get this stone, I'll possess real power! For example..."

"For example, being able to personally kill monsters like the Basilisk?" Julien seemed to have thought of something for Lockhart.

"Yeah, how come I didn't think of that? I've got a new idea." Lockhart glanced at the basilisk corpse lying on the ground and nodded to Potter, who was holding the Gryffindor sword and looking bewildered.

"Harry, how about I include you in the next book—'Die with the Basilisk'?"

"Let's write about the brave 'savior' who pierced the snake's brain with a sword, but still perished together with the basilisk. At the critical moment, I, Lockhart, killed the dark wizard and rescued the other young wizards. How about that?"

"Pah! Shameless!" Hermione couldn't stand Lockhart's shamelessness any longer.

"Shut up!" Lockhart snapped, tapping Hermione on the head with his wand before turning to Julien. "Throw that stone over here! Or I'll make Miss Granger forget who she is—though to her, it might just be going from a 'nerd' to an 'idiot,' which doesn't make much difference!"

"You dare!" Harry raised his sword, but hesitated to advance for fear of harming the innocent.

"What wouldn't I dare?" Lockhart roared with laughter. "Give me the stone now or I'll try to forget everything...!"

"Wait, wait!" Julien hurriedly waved the meteorite in his hand. "Here, catch." He threw the stone over, and at the same time, he rubbed his nose with his left hand. His wand had somehow slipped into his right palm, the silver linden wood gleaming warmly in the darkness.

Lockhart saw the stone actually fly towards him, reached out with his left hand to catch it, and pointed his wand directly at Julien with his right hand.

Hermione, now free of her restraints, quickly crouched down.

"Forget everything, and all is emptiness!"

Two beams of silver light shot out simultaneously from the two wands, crossing each other in the air.

Lockhart's spell struck a pale golden barrier that suddenly appeared three inches in front of Julien—Rozier had silently moved to the flank and cast an enhanced version of "Armor Protection" without anyone noticing.

Julien's spell struck Lockhart squarely on the forehead, sending him flying.

"I'm not flattering you," Julien said earnestly, looking at Lockhart lying on the ground. "I truly admire your... perseverance. To be a complete idiot, yet to pretend to be a master for so many years, that kind of mental fortitude is not something ordinary people possess."

"What did you say?" Lockhart's face flushed red. "Who are you?"

"What I mean is," Julien's voice suddenly turned cold, "your biggest mistake was thinking that only you could use the Oblivion Spell."

"What Forgetfulness Spell?" He clutched his head, spinning wildly in place. "Who am I? Where am I? Where is this place?"