Gilderoy Lockhart waved dramatically for silence, his greasy smile gleaming beneath the candlelight.
"Gather around, gather around! Closer to the dueling stage! Can everyone see me? Can everyone hear me?"
He spread his arms flamboyantly.
"Professor Dumbledore has kindly granted me permission to establish this small Dueling Club, so that all of you may receive proper training in self-defense! One day you may need to protect yourselves using the same methods I have personally employed countless times before. For details, of course, please consult my published works."
"My god," Ron Weasley muttered in disgust. "He never misses a chance to brag."
"Seriously," Harry Potter agreed with a vigorous nod.
"Allow me to introduce my assistant, Professor Snape," Lockhart announced proudly.
He flashed what he clearly believed was a dazzling smile.
"Professor Snape informs me he knows quite a bit about dueling, and he has graciously agreed to help demonstrate before we begin. Rest assured, after the demonstration, I shall return your Potions professor to you completely unharmed."
Severus Snape stared at Lockhart without blinking.
Like a venomous snake preparing to strike.
It was obvious that Snape fully intended to teach this loudmouthed Defense professor a painful lesson.
Ron leaned toward Harry and whispered,
"It'd be great if they both crippled each other."
Sean almost laughed.
Back in his second year, Professor Morisay had organized similar activities during class, but Lockhart had gone further—he had actually persuaded Dumbledore to approve an extracurricular club.
"You see the way Professor Snape's looking at him?" Cress whispered. "Feels like he's about to murder Lockhart right here."
Sean chuckled.
"Our Head of House still has self-control. Lockhart only bossed him around a little. Professor Snape won't go too far."
The next scene unfolded exactly as Sean expected.
Snape moved cleanly and decisively, his casting speed astonishingly fast.
"Expelliarmus!"
A flash of white light shot across the stage like lightning.
Lockhart was hit before he could even react.
His body flew off the platform like a sack of potatoes before crashing onto the floor flat on his back.
The Slytherins erupted into cheers for their Head of House.
Lockhart awkwardly picked up his wand and climbed back onto the platform.
His carefully styled hair and extravagant robes were completely ruined.
Yet his skin was apparently thicker than castle walls.
"Professor Snape used a Disarming Charm," Lockhart explained shamelessly. "In order to provide everyone with a clearer understanding of the spell's effects, I naturally chose to sacrifice my image a little."
He puffed out his chest proudly.
"Honestly, if I had truly wished to subdue Professor Snape, it would have been child's play."
Every student present knew Expelliarmus.
It was taught in second-year Charms.
Everyone understood perfectly:
Lockhart was simply terrible.
Then he noticed Snape staring at him with an icy expression.
Lockhart immediately shut up and hastily changed the subject.
"Next, we'll invite two volunteers to demonstrate! Anyone brave enough?"
The students murmured among themselves.
Not a single hand went up.
After all, losing publicly in front of the entire school would be humiliating.
"Sean! I nominate Sean!"
A voice suddenly shouted from the crowd.
Sean turned toward the source.
It was his little admirer, Bernard Lestrange, staring at him excitedly.
"That's Bernard," Cress said.
Once Bernard started, the rest of the Slytherins eagerly joined in.
"Sean! Sean! Sean!"
Lockhart smiled brightly.
"Well then, Sean? Care to come up?"
Cress looked entirely unconcerned.
"So? Going up or not?"
Sean shrugged.
"Sure."
He stepped onto the dueling stage.
"Excellent!" Lockhart exclaimed. "Now then, who would like to duel Sean?"
Silence.
The younger students obviously didn't dare.
As for the older students…
They exchanged glances awkwardly.
No one moved.
They might not have personally witnessed Sean's strength, but the students who participated in the Four-School Friendship Tournament had already spread enough terrifying stories.
"No one?" Lockhart asked.
Then he looked at Sean.
"Everyone still seems rather shy. Very well, then I shall demonstrate again myself! Sean, you and I."
"He's pretty brave," Ron muttered.
It was impossible to tell whether he meant it sincerely or sarcastically.
"Prepare for takeoff," Harry predicted confidently.
Even Sean was baffled.
Exactly what was Lockhart thinking?
Thick-skinned or not, shouldn't he be trying to avoid embarrassing himself again?
Did he genuinely think he could beat a student?
"Of course, Professor," Sean replied politely.
"Let's stick with the Disarming Charm," Lockhart said with a confident smile.
Sean nodded.
The two exchanged formal dueling bows before walking ten paces apart and turning to face one another.
Snape stood to the side as referee.
"Three… two… one…"
Sean didn't overthink it.
He simply cast Expelliarmus.
A white flash shot toward Lockhart.
The spell reached his face before Lockhart had even completed his own incantation.
A moment later—
Lockhart repeated history.
He flew through the air again and crashed five or six meters away from the stage.
This time, however, he did not stand immediately.
Instead, he supported himself painfully on one arm and muttered,
"I'm fine… I believe my left calf may merely be slightly fractured… would someone kindly assist me up?"
Harry's expression twisted between laughter and horror.
"He's unbelievably useless."
Ron shook his head with deep disappointment.
"I think he's actually an idiot."
Fortunately, broken bones were hardly considered serious injuries at Hogwarts.
If the damage wasn't severe, Poppy Pomfrey could usually fix it overnight.
Sean himself looked embarrassed.
"Professor… are you alright?"
He genuinely hadn't expected a simple Disarming Charm to break Lockhart's leg.
The man was absurdly weak.
Of course, Sean's Expelliarmus was already close to Snape's level.
Although it was technically a second-year spell, its structure was unusual.
The power scaled directly with the caster's magical strength.
Last year Sean's magical reserves had already reached roughly half of Snape's.
Now they were closer to three-fifths.
As for Lockhart?
Ever since graduating, the man had spent all his energy packaging himself as a celebrity.
Aside from Memory Charms—his professional specialty—his actual magical ability had barely improved.
Sean suspected even Charlie Weasley shortly after graduation might have been stronger.
Angelina Johnson hurried over to help Lockhart stand.
Even with a fractured leg, Lockhart still maintained his signature dazzling smile.
"Sean's Disarming Charm is extremely polished. Everyone should learn from him."
Sean nearly lost the will to speak.
This man truly was hopeless.
"I believe other students should also have opportunities to participate," Snape said expressionlessly.
"And you should go to the hospital wing."
"I'm perfectly fine," Lockhart insisted.
Then he scanned the crowd.
"Let's see… Potter! Our famous Potter! And Weasley!"
Sean jumped down from the stage.
Harry and Ron stared at each other helplessly.
"How did you break Lockhart's leg?" Cress whispered.
"I honestly have no idea," Sean replied innocently. "I cast normally."
Snape pointed toward Draco Malfoy and then at Ron.
"You'll receive a different opponent shortly. Potter and Malfoy—up here."
Suddenly Sean asked Cress,
"Are you afraid of snakes?"
Cress looked puzzled.
"Of course not. We're Slytherins."
And just like in the original timeline, Draco cast the spell:
"Serpensortia!"
A large black snake erupted onto the stage.
Even with a broken leg, Lockhart still wanted to show off.
He insisted Snape not interfere and claimed he would handle the snake himself.
Unfortunately, his spell only enraged the creature further.
Then Harry instinctively used Parseltongue in front of the entire school for the first time, commanding the snake not to attack Justin Finch-Fletchley.
The entire hall fell silent.
Everyone stared at Harry in shock.
"Vipera Evanesca."
Snape vanished the snake instantly.
Lockhart gaped at Harry.
Justin, pale and trembling, shouted angrily,
"What were you trying to do?!"
He believed Harry had ordered the snake to attack him.
And unfortunately—
so did everyone else.
Harry's tone and expression while speaking Parseltongue had seemed genuinely unsettling.
Even eerie.
Cress turned suspiciously toward Sean.
"How did you know Draco would summon a snake?"
Sean smiled mysteriously.
"I can see the future."
Cress rolled her eyes immediately.
"Yeah right. You haven't attended Divination in ages."
The club meeting ended shortly afterward.
Barely an hour had passed.
Lockhart was escorted to the hospital wing by Angelina.
Madam Pomfrey examined his injury and said calmly,
"It's nothing serious. You'll recover by tomorrow. Stay here tonight and I'll change the medicine at ten."
Even lying in bed, Lockhart still wore that radiant smile.
"My deepest apologies for troubling you so late at night, Madam Pomfrey."
"This is my job, Professor Lockhart."
Meanwhile, back in the Gryffindor common room, Harry desperately tried explaining Parseltongue to Ron and Hermione.
Although they believed him, the other students remained convinced Harry had deliberately ordered the snake to attack Justin.
After all, in wizarding society, Parselmouths had an overwhelmingly sinister reputation.
Being misunderstood devastated Harry.
He lay awake the entire night, unable to sleep.
That same night, after curfew, Sean once again entered the Room of Requirement alongside Professors Minerva McGonagall and Snape.
Before arriving, Sean had already removed Ravenclaw's diadem from Merlin's hidden chamber and secretly hidden it inside the Room of Requirement.
He decided the timing was right.
If they kept searching forever without results, Dumbledore might begin doubting the diadem was even there.
That would complicate everything.
So when the three of them searched the room—
Sean "coincidentally" discovered the diadem.
The trio immediately carried it to the Headmaster's office with grave expressions.
Albus Dumbledore, still wearing his night robes, accepted it solemnly.
"I'll handle the rest. You should all get some rest."
Sean assumed there would be no problems.
After all, in the original timeline, the diadem had also been destroyed by Fiendfyre.
And Dumbledore's Fiendfyre was vastly superior to Crabbe's.
Later, while Sean and Snape walked back toward the Slytherin dungeons, they passed the second-floor bathroom that belonged exclusively to Moaning Myrtle.
And there—
they discovered something horrifying.
Water had flooded out from beneath the bathroom door and spread across the corridor floor.
Lying motionless in the puddle was Mrs Norris.
Her body was rigid.
She looked dead.
"It's petrification," Snape said quietly as he crouched beside her.
Sean already knew that.
But when he looked around at the walls—
he realized something strange.
There was no blood-written message.
No warning.
No declaration.
Sean's scalp instantly went numb.
"Who the hell opened the Chamber?!"
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