Tom is dead?
Vincent wouldn't believe it even if he were truly dead, let alone just disappear.
Would such a master of self-preservation obediently accept his death?
"He's not dead yet." Snape bent down to pick up his wand. "He didn't resist at the end. He must have deliberately given up his physical form in an attempt to escape without our knowledge."
His attitude seems to have changed.
Vincent was somewhat surprised. "Professor, don't you have to apologize to me?"
Snape's shoulders twitched slightly, and he walked out of the Headmaster's Office with a sullen face.
"He's shy." Armando in the half-framed picture on the floor, quickly shut his mouth.
"Headmaster Dippet, I knew all along that you were pretending to be asleep."
"Huh? Oh." Armando quickly calmed down after his initial surprise.
"Headmasters, I must go." Vincent drew his wand and pointed it at the debris scattered on the ground.
Once the picture frames were all restored, he walked around thinking about Tom's escape route.
The Basilisk is Salazar Slytherin, and there's no way he'll give up.
"Still on the third floor? Hopefully—" Vincent's eyes widened as he emerged from the hole in the wall.
The brightly lit corridor reminded him of the noises he had heard during his confrontation with Tom.
What could have happened to wake the students from their deep sleep?
He seemed to sense something and poked his little head out the window, where he could vaguely see big, adorable creatures rushing towards him under the night sky.
Basilisk are their natural enemies, so did Tom go to the Forbidden Forest?
In the dim moonlight, a figure suddenly appeared among the swarm of Acromantula.
The blackness blends seamlessly with the night, and the agile, swift movements of the figure.
The important thing is the two small points on the forehead.
Snape had indeed thought of that as well.
Using the commotion in the castle as cover, they escaped safely with the help of the Basilisk.
Tom might not implement a solution that only requires a little thought, unless he's driven to a dead end.
Vincent pondered this, he arrived at the empty Gryffindor Common Room.
The Fat Lady has returned, but she is still drunk.
The students should all be gathered in the Great Hall.
What if Tom went to do something exciting, like taking hostages before leaving...
He transformed his bat costume back into his school uniform and rode the Rascal Rabbit, flying rapidly down from the window.
Several panicked Acromantula crashed through a first-floor window, only to be met with Percy and his companions' curse just as they were about to climb inside.
They flew backwards, fleeing elsewhere in an even more terrified manner.
"Vincent?" Percy looked at the fleeting figure with a puzzled expression.
He rubbed his eyes, and after confirming that he wasn't seeing things, he looked at the students beside him.
"Cheer up! They definitely won't give up!"
The Gryffindor students responded loudly, then returned to their previous listless state.
At the end of the corridor were about a dozen Slytherin students led by Marcus.
When they saw Vincent's figure flying by at high speed, their first reaction was to quickly point their wands at him.
"Great, we scared him away!"
Marcus angrily put down his wand. "If he dares to come any closer, I'll knock him off that damn broom!"
No sooner had he finished speaking than an Acromantula smashed through the glass and pounced on him, who was standing by the window.
"Obstacle Course — Petrificus Totalus — Stupefy— "
With more than a dozen spells cast upon it, it tilted its head and swayed as it pinned Marcus to the ground.
"Damn spider!" A sticky, giant claw was stuck to his big face.
"Get this thing out of here quickly!"
Vincent, who had flown around the castle once, rushed into the Great Hall and was almost shot down as if he were an Acromantula.
The corridors on the first and second floors were filled with upperclassmen, while the Great Hall was occupied by lowerclassmen and professors.
"Vincent?" Sprout hurried forward. "Severus just ran out. Did something happen?"
"It's him, him during his student days." Vincent's gaze swept across the crowd.
"Dobby?"
"In the kitchen, you know he can't be seen by certain people."
Vincent nodded to indicate that he understood.
Sprout followed the gaze to the crowd. "You suspect he's here?"
"It's very likely."
Taking all the students in the Great Hall hostage would indeed be a better solution.
But as long as Tom has the Sword of Gryffindor, he will be extra careful no matter what he wants to do.
Vincent cleared his throat and asked loudly, "Professor, how's that big fat snake doing now?"
"It shed its skin and escaped into the Forbidden Forest." Sprout understood his subtle glance.
"Minerva and Filius are over there, and with Severus there shouldn't be any major problems."
"Oh, that's wonderful!"
The two talked as they looked around at the crowd.
The students are alright; they're all a bit confused.
"My dear children, we are witnessing a conspiracy!" Trelawney suddenly stumbled forward, drunk.
Vincent and Sprout's questioning gazes, she shook her head slightly and whispered:
"My Third Eye has seen through the fog and revealed the hidden truth to me."
Sprout shook his head helplessly. "Sybill, do you need some kudzu root to sober up?"
"No, darling." Trelawney practically leaned against her.
"If we don't deal with this conspiracy in time, I'm afraid even more people will leave us forever."
Vincent gave him a suspicious look.
No wonder he's Hogwarts' biggest drunkard; even in this state, he can still blurt out the truth.
"Sybill, we will stop this from happening."
"No, we can't stop it—" Trelawney tried to straighten herself.
She tried several times, but each time she fell for Sprout.
Later, she simply gave up and nestled in this warm embrace.
"Darkness is about to rise again—"
Everyone present tensed up, waiting for her next words.
A minute passed,
Two minutes passed.
Three minutes passed...
As her patience was wearing thin, Trelawney muttered something under her breath.
Vincent leaned his little head over, his facial muscles almost buckling.
"Whoosh—whoosh—"
He's asleep, but still snoring.
Sprout placed her at a long table away from the doorway.
Although she struggled for several minutes, she truly proved herself.
If everyone did this, Tom probably wouldn't be found by daybreak.
If a professor as incompetent as Lockhart can be trusted, then it's not impossible for lower-grade students to be interested.
Hmm? Where's Lockhart?
The professors who had officially joined the faculty were there, as were the teaching assistants on probation, but he was the only one missing.
"Where are Professor Sprout and Professor Lockhart?"
"Him—" Sprout rarely showed disgust, "I saw him as if he were dead, so I went to his bedside to try to wake him up."
She fought back her nausea, saying, "He pounced on me like a madman and knocked me unconscious."
If it were McGonagall, Lockhart wouldn't have had this opportunity at all.
But he's a well-known figure in the Wizarding World; he wouldn't be so desperate.
The most likely explanation is that, like Quirrell, they are trying to save themselves.