Chapter 115: The Attacked Lockhart: Wand-Bearer, Be Wary

The sudden appearance of the house-elf Dobby left Harry feeling troubled and distracted.

Equally troubled was Lockhart.

Ever since the last Quidditch match, he had been hoisted up high by the Gryffindors — but only by the Gryffindors.

The remaining three houses had all, to varying degrees, grown suspicious of him; after all, directly extracting a student's bones hardly looked like the kind of magic a professor would use.

At the same time, the "heroic professor" image he had been trying to build was not going very smoothly either.

He had wanted to arrange an on-site interview with the Daily Prophet, to spread the impact of this incident from Hogwarts to the entire Wizarding World.

The other side had agreed, but when the appointed time came, the reporter Rita Skeeter never showed up, and writing again brought no reply at all.

And that student Silven Ollivander was just as uncooperative — clearly he had saved him, yet he never once took the initiative to express thanks, and more than once had openly undermined him in front of everyone.

Lockhart's face twisted, as if he truly believed the lies he had made up, convinced that it was he who had used the Human form spell to save Silven… despite the fact that he didn't know this spell at all.

To salvage his steadily declining reputation, a bold decision popped into Lockhart's mind… announce the matter of the Basilisk!

A Basilisk that had vanished for hundreds of years reappearing at Hogwarts was sure to cause a sensation, and as "the first person to discover this," he would surely make the headlines.

Not only that, he could even write a new book about it — he had even thought of the name: "Dancing with the Basilisk."

By then, no one would remember the little matter of him extracting a student's bones.

Lockhart's eyes gleamed, but a few minutes later, he had no choice but to abandon this tempting idea.

Dumbledore would not agree to it; that night he had specifically demanded that all professors who knew the truth keep it secret, on the grounds of avoiding panic.

In Lockhart's view this was utter nonsense — Dumbledore simply didn't want to admit his own incompetence and dereliction of duty, and Lockhart even believed that the Basilisk business itself was a lie made up by that Ollivander.

If there really were a Basilisk, would someone of Dumbledore's ability fail to catch it?

Lockhart stared out the window.

When Dumbledore had invited him to Hogwarts, he had let slip — whether intentionally or not — certain pieces of information that made Lockhart's blood run cold, so he did not dare to oppose him — at least until this cursed Defense Against the Dark Arts professorship was over, he would not go against Dumbledore.

"A bunch of fools, Dumbledore is the biggest fool of them all — they simply don't understand what a sensation this would cause," Lockhart screamed hysterically inside.

Even if it were made up, as long as Dumbledore could say the word 'Basilisk' with his own mouth, it would be enough to keep Hogwarts plastered across the front page of the papers.

Such a wonderful opportunity and they don't want it at all — truly a bunch of fools!

It dragged him down too, so he could only think of another way to salvage his approval ratings.

Lockhart could not help but stand up and begin pacing the room; the surrounding walls were lined with his self-portraits, and every "Lockhart" inside was watching him, their gazes shifting left and right.

About an hour later, Lockhart finally thought of a good idea, decisively turned and left the office, heading for the headmaster's office on the eighth floor.

……

The next day, on his way to Charms class, Silven suddenly noticed a group of people gathered around the bulletin board, reading a notice that had just been pinned up.

He seemed to faintly hear someone shouting something about a Dueling Club.

It couldn't be.

Silven's expression turned a little odd as he squeezed in.

"Silven, that's something you've done." Seamus said excitedly when he saw him: "They're going to start a Dueling Club, to teach students how to protect themselves."

"So what does this have to do with me?" Silven asked: "Don't tell me it's tied to that business of me being attacked again."

"Have you already read the notice in advance?" Seamus blurted out.

At the same time Silven also saw the contents of the notice, especially the passage in the middle

【……The experience of Silven Ollivander tells us that learning some combat techniques is very necessary……】

This… well, Silven should have expected it.

But he couldn't figure it out — couldn't Lockhart find someone else to leech off?

Has the Boy Who Lived lost his fame? Why must he keep fixating on that trivial matter of being attacked?

Thanks to Lockhart's efforts, now the entire school knew he had been petrified in a corner of the corridor, and some of the more sentimental witches even looked at him with a touch of pity in their eyes.

As if he had been petrified in the corridor for three days and nights with no one caring.

The feeling was very strange — in fact, the time he had been petrified was no more than five minutes at most.

And for a second-year student, encountering a Basilisk head-on and only being petrified for five minutes — that could practically be called a miracle.

"Silven, Silven, are you going to join this Dueling Club?"

Hearing Seamus ask this, Silven came back to himself, immediately nodded, and said with a cold laugh: "I will — I'm quite curious to see what tricks Professor Lockhart has up his sleeve."

"Great, we can go together then."

The topic of the day was almost entirely the Dueling Club; Professor Flitwick was asked several times whether he would serve as the club's instructor.

Many people knew that in his youth he had been a two-time Dueling Tournament champion — a dueling expert through and through.

However, Professor Flitwick did not give a direct answer to this question; only when asked too many times would he smile, shake his head, and say he wasn't sure either.

By eight o'clock in the evening, Silven had arrived at the Great Hall early to wait.

The place had been completely transformed — the dining tables had been moved to the very edges, and a huge golden stage had been added at the front against the wall.

"Hey, Silven, why are you here so early?" Seamus walked up from behind; Harry, Hermione, and Ron were with him too.

"I just got here too," Silven said.

"What's that in your hand?" At this moment Harry noticed Silven was holding something dark in his hand, which looked very familiar.

"This is a camera I borrowed from Colin Creevey," Silven said.

He planned to photograph Lockhart's appearance later and sell it to Wizard Weekly — maybe he could even make a little profit.

Five minutes later, the great doors were opened once again.

Gilderoy Lockhart walked onto the stage, dressed in a magenta robe, radiant; beside him was none other than dueling champion Professor Flitwick.

Only Professor Flitwick didn't look very pleased — he was still wearing the robes he wore in class, and standing next to the carefully dressed-up Lockhart he looked just like a house-elf… and about the same height too.

But no one had ever told him that one had to wear formal dress for a duel?

If Minerva and Pomona hadn't both been busy, and Severus hadn't had to temporarily leave the school because of Malfoy, he would never have agreed to come as this assistant instructor.

When he saw Professor Flitwick, Silven was momentarily surprised, then began to suspect that Lockhart had done this on purpose… Under Flitwick's comparison, he looked even taller and more handsome.

"I knew it—of course it's Professor Flitwick teaching us," Ron exclaimed. "He was the dueling champion when he was young."

"If you'd paid attention just now, you'd know he's Professor Lockhart's assistant," Hermione corrected. "Professor Lockhart is the real teacher of dueling."

"So you mean Lockhart is stronger than Flitwick, the dueling champion?" Ron retorted.

"Professor Lockhart is also very skilled at dueling—he wrote about it in *With the Troll*. "

"Come on, he's good at everything and good at nothing…"

Then the two began arguing again.

Silven kept staring at the stage; the two professors had finished their introductions and now stood on opposite sides.

"To be honest, I didn't want to do this—what if you think I'm better than the dueling champion?" Lockhart flicked his golden bangs. "I actually entered the dueling tournament myself, but before the finals, I received an emergency letter from Bulgaria and had to withdraw—this has always been my regret."

He wiped his eyes. "What I mean to say is, don't worry—I'll return you an unharmed Potions professor."

Flitwick's expression darkened further; such words felt like celebrating victory in advance.

But did Lockhart really enter the dueling tournament? And reach the finals? How had he never heard of this?

Yet since they were colleagues, Professor Flitwick decided to grant him due respect.

He raised his wand to his chest and bowed to Lockhart.

The motion was unexpectedly precise—now Professor Flitwick truly believed he had competed in the dueling tournament.

"One… two… three!"

Both raised their wands over their shoulders; Lockhart was still muttering incantations when he was suddenly flung backward, slamming hard against the wall and collapsing unconscious.

"Hmm…"

Professor Flitwick stood there bewildered, helpless as a house-elf.

Wasn't this supposed to be a dueling demonstration? Why did Lockhart have to chant… chanting an incantation isn't dueling at all.

Oh right—he was demonstrating for the students!

Professor Flitwick slapped his forehead in frustration—he shouldn't have reflexively used the Stunning Spell to start.

But it probably wasn't a problem.

He glanced at the unconscious Lockhart, confirmed he was unharmed, then had him taken to the school infirmary.

But the Dueling Club still had to continue; the rest of the session would have to be handled by him as the assistant.

"The Stunning Spell may be difficult for some of you, but it's also one of the most useful spells—it can render your opponent unable to resist for a short time."

"Also, the Disarming Charm is another good choice…"

After Lockhart was carried out, the Dueling Club seemed to finally settle into rhythm; Professor Flitwick guided everyone through basic practice of the Stunning Spell and the Disarming Charm, then paired everyone off for mutual drills.

The club ended just before ten; Silven left the Great Hall reluctantly.

He'd come for entertainment, but ended up learning over an hour of real knowledge—he'd gotten far more than he'd expected.

"I really hope this Dueling Club keeps going," Harry said happily. "He loved the Disarming Charm—it's so simple; after trying it twice, he managed to cast it successfully."

"I just wonder why Hermione keeps failing—it should be easier for her…"

At this moment, everyone was delighted, and no one cared about Lockhart, who had been sent to the infirmary.

The next day, Lockhart did not appear; his classes were changed to reading.

"Maybe he's too embarrassed after yesterday's incident and won't show his face," Ron laughed, still utterly unconcerned.

Last night's incident—Lockhart being defeated on the spot by Flitwick—had become Hogwarts' favorite gossip; every time he heard someone mention it, he couldn't help laughing heartily.

In his view, it was better if Lockhart never showed up again—reading might be boring, but at least he could do what he liked or catch up on other homework.

It was far better than watching his theatrical performances.

Hermione did visit the infirmary to see Lockhart, but Madam Pomfrey told her Lockhart had woken up and left last night.

Later, Hermione went to his office—but still found no one.

Only by evening did Lockhart finally reappear.

The first to spot him was Hermione; Lockhart lay sprawled on the stone steps of the entrance hall, his body rigid as stone, his face and exposed arms deathly pale—exactly like the Muggles in the illustrations of his books, victims of vampire attacks.

Several young wizards who saw him afterward nearly burst into tears.

More horrifying still, several lines of blood had been written across Lockhart's blue robe.

【The Chamber of Secrets has been opened!】

【The one who spreads power, the Prophet who should not appear, the beginning and end of all calamities.】

【Wielder of the wand, beware.】

…

(End of Chapter)