Hogwarts' Golden Glory

Before he could finish speaking, his foot tripped on a protruding brick, and he fell forward.

Dumbledore had only raised his Elder Wand halfway when Lockhart screamed and fell into the pipe.

Time seemed to stand still.

Everyone held their breath and stared at that spot.

Three seconds... five seconds... then a muffled thud and an even more piercing scream: "My leg! Merlin! Help—"

Dumbledore took a deep breath, his blue eyes behind his half-moon spectacles scanning each terrified face.

"As you can see," his voice was unusually calm, "Professor Lockhart has bravely gone down. Please remain calm, the professors will handle everything."

Harry suddenly stepped forward: "But sir, there really is something down there—"

"—A dangerous item awaiting investigation." Dumbledore interrupted him, flicking his wand slightly. The bricks around the cave entrance began to writhe, slowly closing in as if alive. "For safety reasons, this place needs to be sealed off temporarily."

From deep within the pipe came Lockhart's intermittent wails: "Help...my leg bone...is piercing through..."

The sound distorted and warped in the damp pipes, sounding like the wailing of some kind of monster.

Dumbledore's Elder Wand traced a golden path through the air, his voice amplified by a megaphone spell into the cave entrance: "Hold on, Gilderoy, we're coming down soon."

He turned to the restless crowd, his half-moon glasses reflecting the candlelight. "All students, proceed to the auditorium immediately. The prefects will be responsible for taking attendance."

Professor McGonagall, could you please prepare some hot cocoa?

"But Professor!" Harry pushed his way to the front, his green eyes fixed on the closing hole. "What's down there? Why is Lockhart—"

"—He paid the price for his recklessness," Snape suddenly interjected, his black robes billowing as he walked to the edge of the cave. "Like some Gryffindors who can never learn the rules."

Dumbledore gently pressed Harry's shoulder: "Trust me, Harry."

His palm was warm and heavy. "Some truths need to wait for the right moment."

As the last brick was placed in place, the opening disappeared completely.

The students were led away by the professors, but Kane Malfoy remained leaning against the wall, his silver-blue wand slowly spinning at his fingertips.

"You should go back to your house," Snape said coldly.

Kane's grey-blue eyes narrowed slightly: "I thought you needed an assistant?"

His gaze swept over Dumbledore. "After all... the headmaster promised me."

The old headmaster was silent for a moment, then suddenly waved the Elder Wand.

The brick wall cracked again, revealing a dark, vertical passage: "Stay close to me, and don't touch anything."

The three people jumped into the pipe one after another.

Kane tapped his wand lightly as he fell, the soles of his boots gleaming silver to cushion the impact of the landing.

The stench of decay filled the air, and fresh blood—Lockhart's—was scattered on the ground.

"Flickering light." Snape's wand glowed coldly, illuminating large patches of slime on the tunnel wall. A snake's shed skin, as thick as an oak barrel, lay across the tunnel, blood still clinging to the gaps between its scales.

"It just shed its skin recently." Kane used his wand to lift a piece of the translucent eyepatch that had shed its skin. "Its vision probably hasn't fully recovered yet, which is good—"

"Help! Here!" Lockhart's scream came from around the corner.

The three hurried over and saw the blond professor slumped on a pile of broken bones, his right leg twisted at an eerie angle, his peacock blue cloak soaked with dark red blood.

Just as Dumbledore was about to step forward, Kane suddenly stopped him: "Wait."

The silver-blue wand emitted a probe wave: "He has dark magic fluctuations emanating from him."

Lockhart's tears suddenly stopped.

His trembling hand drew his wand from behind his back: "Forget...all is emptiness!"

The red light of the spell shot directly at Dumbledore's face, but was deflected in mid-air by the silver barrier that Kane had prepared beforehand.

Almost simultaneously, Snape's Silent Binding Charm coiled around Lockhart's throat like a black snake.

"I knew it." Snape's voice was colder than the chill in the tunnel. "St. Mungo's should give you the 'Worst Actor of the Year' award."

Lockhart's face contorted, something writhing beneath his skin: "You...don't understand...Master will reward me..."

His pupils suddenly turned into eerie vertical pupils, and his voice was mixed with a hissing sound.

Kane's wand erupted with a blinding silver light: "Reveal your true form!"

Lockhart's collar was ripped open by an invisible force, revealing a hideous black magic mark on his collarbone—but the mark's edges shimmered with a pearly halo, as if it were being eroded by some power.

"A clumsy Imperius graft." Snape frowned in disgust. "Voldemort has stooped so low as to use such a half-baked spy."

Dumbledore tapped his Elder Wand lightly, and Lockhart immediately levitated like a puppet: "Severus, could you please... treat this 'colleague's' injuries?"

The Potions Professor gave a chilling smile and pulled a bubbling purple potion from his robes: "Of course... I'll take good 'care' of him."

The liquid was poured onto Lockhart's broken leg, and immediately a sizzling sound like roasting meat was heard.

"Ah—!!!" Lockhart's scream echoed through the tunnel. Kane noticed that the pearly halos became more pronounced with the pain.

"Interesting." Kane crouched down, ancient runes appearing at the tip of his wand. "His soul was marked, but the mark is...dissolving?"

Snape roughly pried Lockhart's mouth open and poured in another vial of potion: "True Reflux, enhanced. Tell me, Gilderoy, what did your 'master' promise you?"

Lockhart's face twitched violently, but under the influence of the potion, he was forced to speak: "Eternal...youth...the front page of the Daily Prophet...one...year..."

His eyes darted around frantically. "And... there's... Harry Potter's... hair..."

Dumbledore suddenly became unusually serious: "Why Harry's hair?"

"Resurrection..." Lockhart suddenly foamed at the mouth, and the worm-like creatures beneath his skin struggled frantically.

Kane swiftly drew a silver rune with his wand, temporarily imprisoning the dark power.

Lockhart's screams gradually weakened, his face turned ashen, and large beads of sweat appeared on his forehead.

The purple potion corroded his wounds, but what was even more terrifying was the writhing dark power beneath his skin—like a snake parasitizing his flesh, it was gradually spiraling out of control as he weakened.

"He won't last much longer," Snape said coldly, his dark eyes sweeping over Lockhart's increasingly unfocused pupils. "If this continues, he'll die on the way back."

Dumbledore's gaze lingered between Lockhart and the depths of the tunnel.

Finally, he sighed softly, "Severus, take him back. Lady Pomfrey needs to treat his injuries immediately, otherwise we won't get anything out of him."

Snape's lips twitched, clearly extremely displeased with this arrangement: "You're going to keep him here?"

"I will protect him," Dumbledore said calmly.

Snape's gaze swept into the depths of the tunnel. He remained silent for a moment, then finally let out a cold snort, roughly grabbed Lockhart by the collar, and shoved him onto his shoulder like a bag of flour.

Lockhart let out a weak groan as blood dripped down his trouser leg, leaving a trail of dark red on the ground.

"If he dies on the way," Snape said somberly, "don't expect Sirius to become the next Defense Against the Dark Arts professor."