Gilderoy Lockhart is undoubtedly a fraud.
All signs pointed to the fact that his magical abilities were not even as good as Vincent's.
However, he was able to write a series of best-selling books and become a well-known wizard with millions of fans.
When a lie is told countless times, to the point that even the teller begins to believe it, people often start to take it as truth.
The inexperienced young wizards, such as Harry and Ron, are feeling increasingly uneasy.
To McGonagall's left was Lockhart pacing anxiously, and to her right was Vincent in deep thought.
Compared to diaries, students are clearly more important.
If Lockhart is telling the truth, she will live with regret for the rest of her life.
"Vincent, can you—"
"Wait a minute, Professor McGonagall." Vincent raised his eyes. "Professor Lockhart, do you really remember nothing?"
Lockhart stopped pacing. "Yes, all I remember is waking up here. I have no recollection of anything that happened before that."
Have you ever heard of a certain name?
"What's your name?"
Vincent's sharp gaze met his bewildered face.
Tom Marvolo Riddle.
Lockhart's azure pupils contracted slightly, his face growing even more bewildered. "Should I know this name?"
Yes, you must know.
He might regret helping Tom open the Chamber of Secrets, but before becoming a victim, he was a complete accomplice.
I woke up just as we were deciding who would keep the diary, and just as I had forgotten everything that had happened before.
It was somewhat rough and rushed.
McGonagall subtly moved next to Vincent.
What if the diary didn't belong to Lockhart, but to someone else?
"Tom Marvolo Riddle, this is actually your diary, isn't it?"
Lockhart stood there expressionless. "Where did you learn that name?"
"Fourth floor, Trophy Room."
McGonagall quickly exchanged glances with the professors.
Some of the older staff are familiar with the origins of the Hogwarts Special Contribution Award.
Fifty years ago, a student died.
She is Moaning Myrtle Elizabeth Warren.
It doesn't matter who the real culprit is; what matters is whether the matter can be covered up.
So, following a report from an outstanding student, Aragog and Hagrid were framed.
Everyone knew they were innocent; the then-headmaster Armando Dippet, knew, and the later-headmaster Albus Dumbledore, knew as well.
Now, the murderer who killed Moaning Myrtle has finally been found.
Right now, right here in the Great Hall, among the students.
Lockhart had been keeping an eye on the professors.
As soon as they started looking at him, he, already prepared, ran towards the students entering the classroom.
"Please step back, professors."
Even Snape had to listen to him because the student being held hostage was Harry.
"Hand over the diary!" Lockhart revealed his true colors.
He was not some narcissistic, incompetent professor, but rather Tom Marvolo Riddle, the brilliant student who opened the Chamber of Secrets fifty years ago and framed Hagrid and Aragog.
All eyes in the Great Hall were on Vincent.
Moral blackmail is indeed a clever tactic.
Even if Dumbledore were here, he would most likely have no choice but to listen to him.
But Tom encountered Vincent who had faced death.
"I know your weakness, Tom— "
I know every single one of you perfectly well.
A semi-transparent figure appeared behind Lockhart.
A handsome face, pale skin.
He was wearing a Hogwarts uniform and stared at Vincent with a ferocious expression.
"I advise you to seriously consider the consequences."
Lockhart, his eyes glazed over, gripped Harry's neck tightly with both hands.
"Do you want to indirectly kill Harry Potter?"
McGonagall turned around quickly, but Snape was a step ahead.
His sallow face was faintly pale. "Give me the diary, Wayne."
"No, Professor Snape." Vincent pulled the Sorting Hat from his robes and winked at Hermione, who was near Lockhart.
"As I said a long time ago, he has hostages, and so do we."
The moment Tom drew the Sword of Gryffindor, his handsome face became even more ferocious.
"I'm not joking!"
Lockhart increased the pressure on his hands.
Harry's face turned bright red, and he had given up struggling.
"I'm not joking." Vincent gripped the sword in one hand and took out his diary with the other.
"Tom, you flew over death, but you still couldn't fly over me."
"No!"
The sharp edge of the Sword of Gryffindor pierced the diary with just a touch.
Tom clutched the hole in his chest that was emitting light, his eyes glancing at Harry was about to lose consciousness.
He manipulated Lockhart, intending to take them both down with him, but was stopped by a chair that was suddenly thrown at him.
Hermione didn't aim specifically; she just swung it at the back of his bald head.
She used a lot of force and knocked Lockhart unconscious in one go.
"Hiss—" Vincent subconsciously shuddered, causing the ink dripping from the diary to fall out.
Young girls who turn from fans to haters are terrifying; they go all out to destroy you.
He looked at Tom, who was in great pain, across from him, and then looked down at the pierced diary.
Once the soul leaves the body, it too will slowly die over time.
Although it's unclear how he did it, Tom, who was a student, needed a place to stay if he wanted to survive to this day.
Whether it is a living thing or an inanimate object.
"How do you know that!" Tom roared hysterically at him. "You may have the knowledge, but you can't have the experience to apply it effectively!"
"I am a master of Occlumency," Vincent, raising the Sword of Gryffindor again. "Born that way."
Tom was even angrier. "Don't try to use that as an excuse. I know you must have studied it—"
With a "plop," the diary was pierced again.
Amidst many questioning gazes, Vincent slowly drew his sword. "Excuse me, shouldn't I wait for him to finish speaking?"
No one thought he did anything wrong.
Tom is the enemy, an enemy skilled at deception.
The more lies are exposed, the less credible they become.
Those words, whether true or false, are very likely spoken with ulterior motives.
Most people think this way, with only a small minority holding a skeptical view.
For example, Snape, who was highly suspicious, and Hermione had long suspected him.
Goodbye, Tom Marvolo Riddle—
Vincent used the Sword of Gryffindor for the third time to pierce the diary.
The lethal effects gained from absorbing the Killing Curse burned through Tom's soul like flames.
He wailed and began to dissipate little by little.
"I curse you! Vincent Wayne!"
His once handsome face now appeared incredibly ugly.
"You will be killed by my own hands! By the resurrected me! By the one who conquers death! The great Voldemort—"
His words came to an abrupt halt, and his twisted body split in two.
Vincent threw the diary, which was almost broken in two, onto the marble floor.
Tom vanished into thin air like ashes, leaving behind not even a complete last word.
"I'm sorry, I should have let him finish speaking."
That's what he said, but Vincent showed no remorse whatsoever.
Daylight broke, and the long night came to an end.