Madara's lips twitched slightly. "What about Legilimency?"
"That was blocked too. My lord's Cursed Mark wove a layer of 'shell' around my memories. The memories the Headmaster could access were merely the experiences a normal professor should have—attending meetings, grading assignments, writing books, and telling a great many stories about defeating banshees and werewolves. He searched through them for over ten seconds, found no loopholes, and withdrew."
Madara finally opened his eyes. The scarlet Sharingan remained terrifyingly bright even in the well-lit room. Two Magatama revolved slowly, unhurriedly.
"And what about our Head of House Snape and the Deputy Headmistress?"
Lockhart's fingers curled slightly against his chest. "They were hiding behind the bookcase in the Headmaster's Office. Although they used their Disillusionment Charms well, they did not fully conceal the fluctuations of their magic. My senses could distinguish them." He paused, as if choosing his words carefully.
"I have to say, Professor Snape's observations were indeed sharp. He immediately saw through the Headmaster's reason for recruiting me—that it was to pave the way for Potter. He mocked the Headmaster for treating Defense Against the Dark Arts professors as expendable material. The Deputy Headmistress had no way to refute him. Later, Professor Snape went all out, saying McGonagall had shown far too much favoritism toward Harry's violations of school rules, that she was unfair. The Deputy Headmistress had no way to deny that either."
Madara's fingers tapped lightly against his knee, one beat after another. "She had nothing to say in the first place. She knew what she had done. She simply refused to admit it."
Lockhart nodded. He raised a hand and drew a long, silver object from his sleeve, like a needle, yet also like a flattened quill. He flicked it lightly, and its tip flashed before going dark.