Chapter 72: Chapter 72: The Eve of the Final Battle
Lockhart had repeatedly assured everyone that the danger was over, but events had proven him wrong. Now, he was even more adamant that there was no need to escort students through the hallways. His usually sleek hair was disheveled, likely from sleepless nights patrolling the fifth floor.
"Mark my words," Lockhart said as he guided a group of students around a corner, "those poor petrified souls, when they wake, will undoubtedly confirm: Hagrid is the culprit." He sounded almost offended as he added, "Frankly, I'm shocked that Professor McGonagall thinks all these precautions are necessary."
"Professor Lockhart, your hair is curling," Lillian quipped as she passed by with Augustus and the others, unable to resist teasing him.
"Oh? Really?" Lockhart quickly ran his fingers through his hair, then scowled. "We teachers are already overworked. Professor McGonagall is being overly cautious, still insisting I escort students."
"Indeed," Malfoy said lazily, smirking. "The destination is just down this hallway—you might as well leave us here."
"Very well, Draco," Lockhart replied. "I really must prepare for my next class." And with that, he hurried off.
"Prepare for class? More like curling his hair," Malfoy sneered at Lockhart's retreating figure.
"As Augustus said, the creature in the Chamber of Secrets is a Basilisk. But who is the Heir of Slytherin? Without the heir, the chamber wouldn't have been opened, and the Basilisk couldn't have been unleashed. This person is likely a student from Slytherin, but we still have no clues," Loki mused as they walked.
"Exactly. If it really is a Slytherin student, their cunning must be extraordinary. To commit so many attacks right under Dumbledore's nose—it's not something an average person could pull off," Lillian said with concern. Despite the progress they'd made, she couldn't shake the nagging feeling that the mastermind wasn't done yet. As for Lockhart's claim that Hagrid was the culprit—anyone with half a brain knew it was nonsense.
"Regardless, once the petrified victims awaken, the truth will come to light, and the culprit will be exposed. Even if they're skilled and ruthless, they can't escape justice. From the very first attack, their downfall was inevitable," Augustus remarked with a hint of regret. "This person may have been resourceful, but they chose the wrong path. Such schemes are destined to fail."
"Augustus is right," Malfoy said smugly. "Even if the heir is a Slytherin, going against us means certain doom. As a Chinese proverb says, 'Those who follow me prosper; those who oppose me perish.'"
"Well, well. Draco Malfoy quoting Chinese proverbs. Wonders never cease," Loki teased, his disdain evident.
"You're just jealous. Chinese culture is vast and profound—something you clearly can't appreciate," Malfoy retorted.
"Apologies, but I've been busy constructing magical strings and nearing the boundary of a Level 5 mage. I should be advancing soon," Loki replied coolly, a faint smile playing on his lips.
Malfoy's jaw dropped in shock. He glanced at Augustus, then at Loki, before offering a sheepish laugh. As a Level 2 mage nearing Level 3, he suddenly felt too embarrassed to boast further.
"Seriously, Loki," Lillian said with mock indignation, "couldn't you wait for us? Augustus and I are barely Level 2 mages, and you're already close to Level 5. It's maddening!"
Augustus chuckled. "Loki's rapid progress is indeed impressive. But remember, no matter how far you advance, stay humble and grounded. Every great journey begins with a single step, and success requires consistent effort."
"I will keep that in mind," Loki replied sincerely, his expression devoid of arrogance. The deeper he delved into magic, the more he realized the vastness of its potential. This was a lifelong pursuit—a path with no clear end. His pride had long been tempered and internalized.
Suddenly, Professor McGonagall's magically amplified voice echoed through the corridors.
"All students, return to your respective house dormitories immediately. All teachers, report to the staff room. Move at once."
"Looks like something's happened again. You three head back to the common room. I'll return shortly," Augustus instructed, his tone calm yet firm.
"Augustus, may I accompany you? With my current strength, I should be able to help," Loki pleaded, his voice tinged with urgency. For a long time, he had envied Harry and Ron—two seemingly ordinary students who had been through so many adventures with Augustus. Loki's relentless training had been partly driven by his desire to assist Augustus rather than merely listening to his tales as a bystander.
Malfoy and Lillian shared similar sentiments. They longed to contribute, but unlike Loki, they had never voiced this desire. Loki's bold request resonated deeply with them.
Augustus raised an eyebrow in surprise but then smiled faintly and nodded. "Very well, Loki. Come with me."
Loki's face lit up with excitement as he followed Augustus.
As the two disappeared down the hallway, Malfoy, usually boisterous, wore an uncharacteristically thoughtful expression. Lillian, her lips pressed into a thin line, grabbed Malfoy by the collar. "Let's go. Time to train!"
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