May 8, 1993, Saturday
Two months.
Two entire months have passed in the blink of a perfectly styled curl.
And honestly? They have been eventful.
Let us begin, of course, with March 1st, the birthday of Ronald Weasley.
Now, as my assistant (even if his tenure was tragically short-lived), it was only natural that I, Gilderoy Lockhart, mark the occasion with something meaningful.
So I gave him a rather dashing signed photograph of myself.
The inscription read:
To my favourite assistant,
From your favourite professor,
Gilderoy Lockhart.
A true masterpiece of sentiment.
I also gave him a wand holster, purely for practical reasons, so he wouldn't accidentally snap another wand in half.
But between us… the photograph was clearly the more important gift.
Then, of course, came April 1st, the truly magnificent birthday of Fred and George Weasley.
My protégés.
And as such, I could not give them something ordinary. No, no.
So I gave them an invaluable copy of Godric Gryffindor's private prank diary I found in the Room of Requirement.
Yes. That one.
Turns out the brave founder of Gryffindor was also a menace to society.
Approximately half of the pranks in that diary were played on none other than Salazar Slytherin himself. The other half were Salazar's increasingly unhinged retaliations.
Godric developed at least three lifelong fears from those exchanges, but heartbreakingly, it never stopped him.
"Worth it," he apparently wrote more than once.
I do find myself wondering… am I getting too close to the Weasley family?
Perhaps.
But you try spending time around children that charming, chaotic, and catastrophically funny and tell me you'd do any better.
And then there was April 14th.
Rosmerta's birthday.
Now that required something truly worthy of her.
I managed, through charm, diplomacy, and aggressive flattery, to convince Dumbledore himself to take over my classes for the day.
I feel like he agreed far too easily.
And so, with a completely free schedule, I took the woman who doubles as my best friend, my girlfriend, and my future wife to a Hawaiian beach to spend the day.
Warm sand, clear water, perfect sun.
Romance, laughter, and at least one incident involving a coconut and too much sun oil.
She deserved magic that day.
And she got it.
…
Back to the present.
Today was supposed to be about Quidditch, Gryffindor versus Hufflepuff, the last match of the season.
The stands would be packed. The corridors? Empty. And that was exactly the problem.
Because I remembered something very troubling.
In the original sequence of events… this was the day when Penelope Clearwater and Hermione Granger would be petrified after coming back from the Library.
And even though some things had changed, considering there hadn't been a single attack since Colin Creevey thanks to my intervention.
I know Tom Riddle well enough, he likes patterns, and he absolutely loves opportunities.
And Quidditch matches create the most perfect hunting grounds imaginable.
So instead of finding a cushioned seat in the stands…
I am currently running, preparing to intercept the monster before it can hurt anyone.
My robes flared behind me as I sprinted through stone corridors, my boots striking the floor in frantic echoes. The sounds of cheering were muffled through thick castle walls.
…
The corridor outside Myrtle's bathroom felt wrong.
Too quiet. Too still.
The torches flickered, their flames shrinking as a massive shadow slid along the stone. The air grew heavy, thick with the scent of damp scales and cold, ancient breath.
The basilisk had arrived.
Its emerald body coiled through the hallway like a living wall of muscle and armor, scales scraping against the stone with a sound like blades being dragged across rock. Its gigantic head lifted slowly, bright yellow eyes gleaming with murderous intelligence as it tasted the air.
Then…
There was a flash of gold as two massive metal eagles burst into existence in midair, their wings spreading wide with a violent metallic shriek.
"Go!" Lockhart shouted.
The eagles launched themselves forward in perfect unison, talons first. They struck the basilisk's face in a storm of steel, slashing and tearing. The beast roared, a sound so loud it split the torches' flames in half.
Its eyes were successfully plucked by the golden eagles, who swallowed them whole.
A grotesque shriek split the air.
Its eye sockets burst in a spray of blood as the metallic birds retreated into safety.
The creature thrashed.
Its body smashed into the corridor walls with enough force to crack stone.
But it didn't die.
It adapted.
The ruined sockets sealed shut, thick scales sliding over where eyes once were, as if nature itself refused to let it be vulnerable.
It released a deep, wet, hissing sound, and used its other senses to lock into its prey.
Lockhart didn't hesitate.
Transfigured swords appeared in the air around him, launching forward like silver arrows. They struck the basilisk's scales, and bounced.
Clang~
Clang~
Clang~
Not even a scratch was left on the beast, causing Lockhart to curse under his breath.
The basilisk surged forward, its enormous body slamming into the walls, cracking the stone. Its head lowered, jaws widening.
Lockhart rolled aside and tried to aim for the destroyed eye sockets, driving another transfigured blade forward.
But the basilisk's eyelids were slammed shut and also covered in scales, so the sword shattered.
It lunged again.
Lockhart rolled away again like a Dark Souls character and slammed his wand into the stone.
Two massive walls of pure magic erupted from the floor, one in front of the basilisk, and another behind it, trapping the ancient monster in a narrow killing corridor.
The walls shook violently as the beast smashed against them, cracks spiderwebbing through the glowing surfaces.
Lockhart's breath hitched, he realised magic wasn't going to cut it, so he decided to proceed with the ritual, to slay the beast without magic.
"Pipi!" he shouted.
With a loud crack, the house-elf appeared.
"Bring me the Sorting Hat. Now."
Another crack, and then the hat was in his hands.
The basilisk smashed its head into the front wall again, filling it with cracks.
"Only a true Gryffindor…" the hat began.
Lockhart didn't answer.
He didn't try to boast like usual, didn't even smile.
He simply reached inside, and pulled.
The Sword of Gryffindor slid free in a blaze of silver.
At that exact moment, the barrier shattered and the basilisk struck like lightning.
Its jaws closed around him, and swallowed him whole.
The corridor filled with screams as students rounded the corner.
Teachers froze in horror.
Aurora Sinistra staggered forward, then collapsed to her knees.
Inside the serpent's throat, darkness crushed in on Lockhart from all sides. The stench burned his lungs. The slick muscles of the creature tried to drag him further down.
But he raised the sword.
And drove it sideways.
The blade burst out through the left side of the basilisk's neck.
Then it moved.
A full clockwise arc of silver light ripped through flesh, muscle, scale and bone.
The head separated with a wet, thunderous crack and the body collapsed.
The ground shook.
Silence fell.
Then the corpse twitched and burst open.
Lockhart emerged in a shower of dark, sizzling basilisk blood, standing beside the dead monster's neck, sword raised high.
He struck a pose without thinking, pure instinct.
The blood steamed off him.
The sword gleamed.
Somewhere in the back of his mind, he felt absurdly relieved.
'At least I didn't nick the venom sac.'
The corridor remained frozen.
No one spoke.
No one breathed.
But they would definitely remember this moment forever.
…
A clap suddenly broke the silence.
Then another, and another.
For a moment, I didn't understand what was happening. My entire focus had been inward, on the strange, roaring strength coiled inside my limbs, on the magic that still thundered through my veins after the ritual's completion. I felt… larger. Fuller. Like I could bend castle walls with a thought.
Then I felt something much more immediate.
Blue, fast, and warm.
Aurora hit me like a bludger wrapped in Acromantula silk.
She slammed into my chest so hard that, if it had been me from five minutes ago, we would both have ended up as an untangled mess on the stone floor. But my hands moved on their own, catching her before either of us fell.
She was shaking and sobbing.
Her fists pounded weakly against my chest. "Idiot," she said, her voice breaking. "Absolute, reckless, idiotic…" She choked on the words and buried her face in my robes despite the blood. "I thought… I thought I lost you."
I awkwardly shifted the Sword of Gryffindor in my right hand. It was hard to appear reassuring while holding a legendary, blood-drenched weapon like a coat rack.
My left hand patted her back, gentle and slow.
"There, there," I said, doing my best to sound calm, impressive, heroic. "no need to worry, I had it handled."
She drew back just enough to look up at me, tears shining against her lashes, eyes furious and terrified all at once.
"Handled?" she repeated, her voice sharp. "YOU WERE EATEN, GILDEROY."
I blinked. "Well," I said carefully, "yes, but it was… a tactical consumption?"
Her hands tightened in my robes. "You absolute fool," she whispered, and then said it louder, again and again, like she needed to get it out of her system. "Idiot. Fool. Do you have any idea what it looked like from the corridor?"
I thought of the students' horrified faces.
Of Aurora dropping to her knees.
The wall breaking, and the serpent's jaws closing around me.
…Ah.
Perhaps "handled" was not the correct word.
Still, I kept my voice soft. "It's my job," I said and gestured to the students with my eyes. "To keep them safe."
She shook her head at me, a helpless, broken little laugh escaping her through the tears.
"And what about you?" she demanded, voice still filled with dread. "Who protects you, you stupid, brilliant, impossible man?"
I had no clever answer for that. So I just held her closer, one hand gentle at her back, the other still gripping the sword I'd pulled from the sorting hat, and let her cry against my chest while the castle around us caught its breath.
…
(Support with power stones or comments. You can subscribe to my Patreon /mysterion901 to read over 20 advanced chapters 🐢 🎶)