Chapter 85: 85: The Magical Book?
"Gilderoy Lockhart? You back?" Kasenhis glanced at him through the monocle.
[Human] [Magic]
The next second, Kasenhis swung his wand, sending a surge of wild magic tearing through Lockhart's robe. His monocle meticulously scanned him again and again—nothing.
"Stay right here. Don't go anywhere!" Kasenhis' lips twitched as he snatched Lockhart's wand away. A metal cage instantly materialized around him with a clang. Then, with a loud whoosh, Kasenhis Apparated straight into the Defense Against the Dark Arts office.
There, he was immediately greeted by a startled shriek from a portrait of Gilderoy.
"Shut up!" Kasenhis flicked his hand, knocking the portrait aside.
"This guy… hasn't even died yet, and he's already made himself a talking portrait."
Muttering mockingly, he began to ransack the entire office, flipping through every inch of it.
"Not here?"
With another sharp whoosh, he Apparated back to his own office. He barely had time to glance at the caged Lockhart before his gaze landed on the glowing red crystal ball atop his desk.
Pressing it, the distant door creaked open, revealing four Gryffindor students.
"Perfect timing. Keep an eye on him… and, uh, fix his clothes before you let him wear them again. I'm off to find Dumbledore."
With that, Kasenhis vanished in an instant, leaving behind only a scattering of purple sparks that slowly faded into nothing.
"Uh... I knew there would be a day when Professor Kasenhis and Lockhart ended up like this," Ron sighed, casting a side glance toward the distant cage, where a pale, very exposed Lockhart sat helplessly.
"I'm starting to believe that legend now... seriously," Harry chimed in.
Meanwhile, Kasenhis materialized perfectly into the Headmaster's office, appearing right in front of Dumbledore. Without hesitation, he casually snatched a hazelnut biscuit from the older wizard's hand.
"Stop snacking. Come to my office. Lockhart was just possessed by someone weird."
Dumbledore gave a resigned sigh, glancing down at his now half-eaten biscuit before setting it aside and rising to his feet. He placed a hand on Kasenhis' shoulder, and the next moment, the two of them popped into the Alchemy office.
At the same time, the four Gryffindor students were still making their way over, keeping a safe and respectable distance from the cage where Lockhart remained.
"Children, would you mind fetching Professor Snape for me?" Dumbledore called out to them.
The four exchanged glances before instinctively shaking their heads.
"You want to give it a shot?" Dumbledore subtly glanced at Kasenhis.
Kasenhis shrugged. "If even you can't get them to do it, what chance do I have?"
"Try anyway."
"Fine. Go fetch Severus, would you? He's not that bad." Kasenhis sighed, directing his words at the group.
"Oh... fine." ×4.
"......."
"......."
"Have you ever considered becoming Headmaster?"
"Not at the moment. But if you're willing to step down and make way for a better person, I'd be more than happy to shoulder that responsibility."
"Ehm.."
The two of them appeared in front of Lockhart, and Dumbledore patted Kasenhis on the shoulder. Kasenhis reached out and tapped the iron bars in front of him, instantly breaking them apart.
"Put some clothes on, Lockhart. Here."
With a wave of Dumbledore's hand, Lockhart's previously shredded clothing was instantly repaired and draped back over him.
Lockhart, however, was trembling all over, looking like a miserable little punching bag—completely pitiful as he stared at his tormentor... and the other tormentor who just so happened to be the biggest backer of the first tormentor.
A deep, soul-crushing feeling of helplessness welled up in his chest.
"Quit acting pituful. Do you even remember how you ended up in my office?" Kasenhis crossed his arms and asked.
"I don't knooooow~!" Lockhart's voice trembled as he responded.
"Try to remember, Lockhart. Anything you can recall will help," Dumbledore said gently.
"I..." Lockhart shivered.
"I remember... When I left the Headmaster's office, I found a book in a corridor corner. That book... had a memory inside."
"I asked him whether the supposed curse between Hogwarts' Defense Against the Dark Arts professor and the Alchemy professor was real. He said it was. So I asked how to break it."
"That memory told me to kill Kasenhis. But I absolutely never had such a thought!"
Kasenhis shrugged. "Much appreciated."
"You're welcome—wait, no! That's not what I meant... I was about to close the book when it said there was another way. It told me to pick it up—the book itself—and inject my magic into it. The next thing I knew, I was here."
"Then Professor His saw me and immediately beat me up like this... and threw me in a cage! Owee.. Me! Lockhart! Beaten like this sob.. Owee.. my perfect hair is a mess.."
Lockhart sobbed dramatically, to the point where even the floor might start eroding from sheer disgust.
"Lockhart, do you know who owned that notebook?" Dumbledore asked.
"No, I don't remember anything."
"....Was the owner of that notebook a man or a woman? Were they a Hogwarts student or an ancient wizard? What era were they from? What was their approximate age?" Dumbledore continued questioning.
"I don't know. I can't remember anything. It doesn't seem to be a normal Obliviate—it's like he took my memories rather than erased them."
Lockhart trembled for quite some time before finally remembering his current predicament. He hurriedly dressed himself properly at lightning speed.
"You're telling the truth?" Kasenhis asked, his expression oddly skeptical.
"He seems to be telling the truth. Kasenhis, what do you think?" Dumbledore turned to him.
"Well, since I talked to that soul when he came to my office. Hmm.... I don't think they were too old. Probably around sixth or seventh-year age. That person was most likely a man—he gave me the feeling of an ordinary sixth-year student, though a bit overly mature."
"But since he lacked the corresponding life experience, that 'maturity' felt a little... off. Like a child pretending to be mature. You know that whole 'Chosen One' syndrome? The kind of delusion where they believe they're destined for some grand mission? Most teenage wizards go through a phase like that, more or less."
"And another thing... he's likely a pureblood, or possibly from an aristocratic Muggle family. That aura he carried, along with that restrained and distant expression on his face, reminded me of Andrew Edwards—an insufferable client I had to deal with once—and Lucius Malfoy."
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P@treon: Dragonel