The confusion drained from Talos's eyes. Terror took its place, and disbelief right behind it.
He stared at Hermione, his voice gone hoarse. "You... what did you do to me?"
"Nothing much." Hermione's tone was breezy. "Just made a small adjustment to your memory."
"I used a Memory Charm to erase the part where you were under the Imperius Curse. To make you forget that you were the one who called all the Skrulls together, and then..."
She let the sentence hang, and let her gaze drift to the bodies on the floor.
Talos's face went a sickly, greenish-pale. He staggered back, eyes flooded with despair and bitter rage.
"You... why would you do this?"
Hermione tilted her head.
"Why?"
"For the peace of Earth, obviously." She said it like it was the most self-evident thing in the world.
And she meant it.
Cleaning up this nest of potential threats was one of the few genuinely good deeds she'd ever done , no strings attached, no reward expected.
Talos stared at her, his face tight with helpless fury.
"We are interstellar refugees persecuted by the Kree. We came to Earth for nothing more than a place to live. We haven't done a single thing to harm this planet..."
He was trying to argue his case.
Hermione cut him off, cold and flat. "Is that so?"
"Earth took you in. The least you could do is live quietly and keep your heads down — not spend every waking moment scheming to take over the nest and push out the ones who were already there."
She paused. "You know, your kind reminds me of a parasite. Move in, make yourself comfortable, then start eyeing the furniture."
Talos's body trembled slightly. He looked like he wanted to say something. In the end, he closed his mouth.
A long silence.
"Aren't you afraid," he finally ground out through clenched teeth, "of exposing yourself?"
Hermione's smile was pure contempt.
"An internal Skrull power struggle that ended in a massacre? What does that have to do with me? I wasn't even there."
Something flickered in Talos's eyes. Despair. He understood, now, that he wasn't walking away from this.
"You won't... get away with this." His voice was hard and final. "Even if I die, Fury will find out the truth."
Hermione curled her lip.
"Fury?"
"You really think he has time to bother with your mess?"
"Don't worry. There won't be a body."
"As far as the outside world is concerned, you simply went missing during an internal Skrull skirmish."
She paused, and her tone sharpened into mockery. "And do you honestly think you're Fury's biggest problem right now? Those half-hidden moles burrowed inside S.H.I.E.L.D. — that's what's keeping him up at night."
She didn't look at Talos again after that.
A casual flick of her wrist, and scorching flame erupted from nothing.
It coalesced in midair into the shape of a massive serpent, savage and writhing, and it lunged.
Talos didn't even manage a full scream before the Fiendfyre swallowed him whole.
An instant later, there was nothing. Not even ash. He was simply gone from the world.
...
Hogwarts.
The Great Hall was in an uproar.
Professor McGonagall stood at the front on the raised platform, her expression severe.
The students had clustered into groups, buzzing and muttering, every face wearing some variation of: Are you actually serious right now?
Just moments ago, Professor McGonagall had informed them that the petrification incidents that had thrown Hogwarts into chaos , after thorough investigation , had been fully resolved.
The mastermind had been successfully eliminated by Professor Gilderoy Lockhart. Hogwarts was once again the safest place in the wizarding world.
And not only that: he had brewed the Mandrake Restorative Draught himself. The petrified students would be back on their feet very soon.
The students looked at each other.
Their eyes said everything: I don't believe this.
Lockhart?
The Defense Against the Dark Arts professor who couldn't do anything except boast and strike poses?
He solved the Chamber of Secrets?
And if that wasn't hard enough to swallow, Professor Lockhart had apparently not only dealt with the basilisk, but also destroyed something belonging to Voldemort , something called a Horcrux.
Nobody knew what a Horcrux was. But anything connected to You-Know-Who had to be terrifying, so.
Still. Professor McGonagall had said it. They supposed they had no choice but to hold their noses and believe it.
Yes, the mastermind behind it all was, once again, dear old Voldemort... Watching the stunned expressions ripple across the student body, Hermione quietly savored the moment.
"To commend Professor Lockhart's bravery," Professor McGonagall announced, "I propose a round of applause."
She started clapping herself.
Scattered, reluctant applause followed.
Lockhart swept onto the platform with a broad stride, his signature smile blazing at full wattage, bright as a lightbulb. He raised a hand and waved to the crowd below.
"Thank you, everyone! Thank you, Professor McGonagall! Thank you, Hogwarts!"
His voice rang out with full theatrical conviction.
"It is my absolute honor to have served this school!"
He drew a deep breath. And then he launched into his heroic account.
"That night, alone, I slipped in secret into Slytherin's Chamber..."
He painted the whole scene , how he'd outwitted both the basilisk and Voldemort, how his masterful spellwork had brought them down, how he'd swept in at the last moment to rescue the reckless Harry, Ron, and the others.
His voice climbed higher and higher, building like a man who had genuinely fought an epic battle and lived to tell the tale.
The students listened, slack-jawed.
It still strained belief. But Lockhart's story was so good — so vivid and gripping , that they couldn't help being pulled in. Every few minutes, someone breathed out a hushed wow.
Lockhart glowed inside.
This. This was exactly what he loved. Being lifted up, being looked at with wide, admiring eyes. This was the feeling he'd been chasing his whole career.
At the very back of the Great Hall, Hermione stood with an expression that wasn't quite a smile and wasn't quite a smirk.
Lockhart caught sight of her. His smile locked for just a fraction of a second before snapping back into place.
He knew. All of this was her doing. He was just an actor, playing the role she'd written for him.
But , so what?
Right now, he was Hogwarts' hero. Revered. Adored. Every eye in this room was on him with something approaching genuine respect.
This was his moment. He was going to use it. He was going to shatter every low expectation these students had ever had of him, and he was going to do it right now.
He'd already had a taste of this, and he couldn't give it up. He was on the ship. Might as well sail it all the way. His instincts told him that where there was crisis, there was also opportunity.
Lockhart pulled his attention back to the crowd and poured himself into the performance.
Hermione watched him up there , gesturing wildly, voice soaring, practically spitting with enthusiasm , and the corner of her mouth curved up.
This guy is actually pretty good at this.
No wonder he'd written so many bestsellers. The man could tell a story. He made it sound completely real. You almost wanted to believe him.
Genuine talent, honestly.
Harry, Ron, and Ginny had spotted her by now. Their faces broke into surprised, relieved smiles, and they quietly wove through the crowd toward her.
"Hermione, you're finally back!"
Harry's voice had that particular quality , like a ship that had just found its lighthouse.
"Do you think what Lockhart said is actually true?"
There was a thread of doubt in his eyes.
"Something feels off to me."
Harry frowned.
He couldn't shake the feeling that he'd seen this before.
➤ Next: The Vexed Lucius
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