thebusnovel Chapter 296, page 295: The Truth Behind the Bronze Gate
Chapter 296, page 295: The Truth Behind the Bronze Gate
Chapter 296, page 295: The Truth Behind the Bronze Gate
The moonlight grew stronger.
The sunlight streamed through the windows into the ancient castle of Hogwarts.
Hermione Granger's footsteps sounded particularly heavy in the corridors of Hogwarts Castle. She had no idea that Lockhart would block her way on her way back to her dormitory.
Simultaneously.
She hadn't expected Professor Lockhart to ask her such a chilling question right off the bat.
"Miss Granger, didn't we agree to go to my office?" Professor Lockhart's voice was like a heavy hammer, striking Hermione's heart and making her feel like her heart was about to jump out of her chest.
Why would the other person ask me that question?
Wasn't it Professor Snape who was supposed to go to this man's office? Well, at least it was Hermione playing Snape, and it wasn't supposed to be tonight.
Professor Lockhart probably didn't go back after leaving his office, but stayed here the whole time. Facing this handsome yet vain Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, Hermione felt a sudden, inexplicable tension. She tried to remain calm, but her mind was in turmoil—had Lockhart discovered something?
If not.
Why was the other person guarding this place, and why were they asking her such a strange question? The little witch's fingers gripped the hem of her robe tightly, her knuckles turning white.
"Why aren't you saying anything?"
Lockhart stood before her, his face, which always wore an exaggerated smile, now unusually calm, his blue eyes gleaming with an unfathomable light.
"I...I really don't know what you're talking about, Professor." Hermione's voice trembled involuntarily. "I haven't seen you at all in the library all day."
This was the excuse Hermione had come up with for herself. After all, she had already missed a day of school, and if others asked her about it, she would need an explanation to convince them.
Just as Ron and Neville had thought, if Hermione said she was sick or overslept and didn't want to go to class, neither the professors nor her classmates would believe her. These excuses might be reasonable for other Gryffindor students, but she was, after all, a student eager for knowledge in everyone's eyes.
Anyone could use such an excuse to skip class, but it's definitely not Hermione. That's the reputation that academic achievers have built up. So Hermione can only be finding a suitable excuse for herself.
She claimed that she had found an amazing book in the library, and her thirst for knowledge led her to accidentally miss her time there. She thought this excuse would be enough to fool most people.
however.
I haven't even had a chance to face my professors and classmates until tomorrow.
Tonight.
Hermione then realized that she seemed to have been exposed.
"Is that so?" Lockhart chuckled softly, a laugh that sent shivers down Hermione's spine. He took a step forward, his blond hair gleaming softly in the candlelight.
Yet it inexplicably gives people a dangerous feeling.
"You said you hadn't met me before, but now we have." His voice was as light as a feather. "Come with me, Miss Granger."
These words.
This made Hermione even more nervous.
Was he going to be expelled from school because he impersonated a professor? But Snape clearly told him to impersonate one, and Snape might not admit it now.
"What do you want with me?"
Hermione couldn't help but speak with concern.
She was genuinely afraid of being expelled from school.
This is why first-year wizards often encounter threats like these from professors; what children who have been exposed to the magical world fear most is losing that right to have such contact.
This is especially true for children from Muggle families—it's similar to how someone who has experienced the hustle and bustle of a big city finds it difficult to return to their rural home.
It's even worse.
"Hermione Granger." Lockhart approached with a smile, his signature confident grin on his lips. "You're a bright student, and I've always admired your talent."
It looks like a genuine compliment.
but.
Hermione instinctively shrugged, a slightly embarrassed smile on her face: "Thank you... Professor."
Her voice trembled slightly, her mind still filled with questions—why did he want to talk to me alone? I need to go find Snape and have him testify that I wasn't really playing a prank by impersonating the professor.
Thinking this way.
Hermione almost wanted to turn around and run back to the underground office.
Seeing this, Lockhart chuckled softly, his tone relaxed: "Don't be nervous, I just want to talk to you. Come on, let's go to the office."
"I have no punishment for you."
Professor Lockhart seemed to read Hermione's mind.
"Forehead……"
Hermione breathed a sigh of relief.
But I'm not completely relieved yet.
Seeing Professor Lockhart take the first step, Hermione swallowed hard and forced herself to follow. The little witch's legs felt like lead, yet she had no choice but to follow Lockhart down the dimly lit corridor. Countless terrible thoughts flashed through her mind: Had Lockhart discovered she was impersonating Snape?
Was he spying on her all along? Or... a more terrifying thought emerged—was Lockhart's previous invitation actually a pretext for not being interested in Snape?
Rather, Professor Lockhart actually has some other thoughts about me!?
"If he had seen through my disguise as Snape earlier, he might have genuinely extended an invitation to me, not Snape! Even Professor Snape might not have realized that!"
Ouch! Hermione was completely taken aback. She had only ever seen such sensational stories in the newspapers, but now she was actually suspecting that she had become a victim in them?
Such a shocking idea popped into my head.
She panicked instantly and quickly dismissed the absurd idea. The portraits on the corridor walls peered out curiously, some even whispering to each other.
These portraits bear witness to this.
Professor Lockhart shouldn't be that depraved, right?
Hmm, that's impossible! Professor Lockhart couldn't possibly be a pervert. After all, all professors at Hogwarts undergo rigorous background checks, a fact also documented in "Hogwarts: A History of the School"!
to be frank.
In the past...
Hermione would normally have a lot of faith in *Hogwarts: A History of the School*, but after what happened yesterday, she wasn't so confident in its records anymore. Professor Lockhart's charming demeanor was indeed related to the tendency in many novels to feign eccentricity.
Regarding this part of the books.
The little witch had dabbled in it before.
There are similar cases in Sherlock Holmes' stories.
"Why did he bring that Gryffindor girl to his office?"
"I bet Galon that he's going to brag about his new book again."
The portraits are whispering to each other.
They didn't have Hermione's wild imagination.
"I hope it's just to show off his new book."
Hermione sincerely prayed that the portraits were right.
Her heart was pounding faster and faster, almost bursting out of her chest. As she turned the last corner, she caught a glimpse of Peeves floating on the ceiling, making a throat-slitting gesture at her.
"Depend on!"
Hermione wanted to pick up a stone and throw it, but how could there be such rubbish in Hogwarts castle? Helpless, she could only glare at Peeves and ignore him.
Along the way, her heart pounded faster and faster; she could even hear it. Finally, they arrived at the door of the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor's office.
The door to the Defense Against the Dark Arts office slid open silently.
Lockhart opened the door and invited her in. Hermione took a deep breath and stepped inside. The room was surprisingly tidy. Lockhart's gleaming medals and most of his self-portraits were put away, replaced by a simple oak table and a few well-worn books.
Of course, the office was still filled with a faint scent of perfume, and a picture of Lockhart himself still hung on the wall, though it wasn't as outrageous as the one Hermione had seen before.
"Sit." Lockhart gestured to the chair opposite him and gracefully sat down. His movements were so fluid, unlike the flamboyant professor he usually was.
Instead, she possessed an elegance that Hermione had never seen before.
Like an aristocrat.
Hermione sat in the chair, her hands clasped tightly together, her back ramrod straight, her mind racing with various possibilities. However, after Lockhart sat down...
His expression suddenly turned serious, and his tone became steady. Lockhart interlaced his fingers under his chin, his blue eyes looking directly at her: "Where's Ian Prince?"
have to say.
Hermione considered many possibilities.
I really didn't expect the other person to ask me this question.
"What?" Hermione blurted out, her mind going blank for a moment. She had considered countless possibilities, but this was the one question she hadn't expected. Ian Prince? Why would Professor Lockhart suddenly mention this name? For a moment, the little witch didn't know how to answer, and could only open her mouth, trying to organize her thoughts.
no way.
Because of her promise to Dumbledore, Hermione certainly couldn't and dared not talk about what happened in the Forbidden Forest, but now, when asked to fabricate a lie, her mind went completely blank.
"I have no idea."
After stammering for a while, Hermione could only give this one response.
however.
next moment.
What happened next caused her brain to shut down completely.
You need to be honest with me.
Professor Lockhart spoke softly, a light seeming to flicker in his eyes, and Hermione felt her will begin to blur—and the next moment the sound of a door opening came from behind her.
"Grandfather, Headmaster Dumbledore wouldn't want to see you do that."
It was Professor Lockhart's voice again.
This immediately snapped Hermione out of her daze.
She turned around abruptly.
Incredibly, they discovered that Professor Lockhart was also standing at the front door.
What's going on?
Hermione's breath caught in her throat for a moment.
Her lips trembled, but no sound came out. The air in the office seemed to freeze, with only the occasional soft crackling of the flames in the fireplace.
"A compound decoction?"
After a long while.
Hermione's mind went back and forth between the two Professor Lockharts.
She asked cautiously.
"Transfiguration isn't something inconvenient, is it?"
A sneer came to mind.
All I saw was...
Professor Lockhart, who was sitting at the desk, began to change his appearance, turning into an old man with silver hair. Hermione was shocked by the face she had only seen in some history books.
"Grindelwald!"
She let out a terrified scream.
"You'll forget about today, but before that, you need to tell me where Ian Prince and Albus Dumbledore went."
Grindelwald spoke softly.
……
Night falls.
The forbidden forest was shrouded in darkness. Ancient trees rustled in the wind, but in this environment that should have been full of life, there was no sound of any living creature.
There was only the sound of flames burning.
In a clearing deep within the forbidden forest, a campfire crackled and popped.
In this tranquil setting, the bronze gate stands silently, like an ancient relic. Its entire surface is covered with intricate runes, emitting a faint glow.
It's as if it's waiting to be awakened at a specific moment.
In front of the gate, a figure sat cross-legged, holding a tree branch with a piece of roasted meat skewered on it, the firelight flickering on the boy's face.
It reflected his slightly languid expression.
Ririm—or rather, that ancient being with the appearance of a young boy—was leisurely turning the meat on the grill. The grease dripped into the fire, making an enticing sizzling sound.
This is probably the only movement in this forbidden forest right now.
The boy had been waiting here all day.
"How boring."
Ririm bit off a large piece of meat, mumbling a complaint.
"It's been a whole day, why is there still no movement?"
As he spoke, Ririm looked up at the sky.
Moonlight filtered through the dense canopy of trees, casting dappled shadows on him. He casually tossed the cleaned bones into the fire, wiping his greasy fingers on his robe.
Then he stood up, stretched, and dusted off his robe.
"Forget it, let's find some fun," Ririm muttered to himself, walking toward the quietly standing bronze door. "Challenging the so-called 'King of Wizards' should be quite interesting."
His palm touched the cold door, and instantly, the entire bronze door began to tremble, the runes flashing with dazzling light, as if responding to his input of magic.
"I haven't seen this legendary Trial Tower in a long time." Ancient runes flickered with a ghostly green light—a vortex slowly formed in the center of the door.
A figure gradually emerged from the distorted space.
An old wizard with gray hair and a sinister face stepped out of the door, his robes fluttering even without wind. When he saw the boy before him, his cloudy eyes widened suddenly.
"Damn it! Imposter! You imposter! I am the one who is right!" the old wizard suddenly roared, his voice hoarse and piercing. "I will become the king of all ages!"
Seeing this situation.
Rirem was not surprised.
He seemed to have known about one of the functions of this door all along.
"You're a joke, you're a hammer-wielding king of all ages." Ririm didn't hold back in criticizing his other self, and with a quick rub of his hands, terrifying ancient magic was ready to be unleashed.
The other side is the same.
The old man holding the scepter suddenly swung it.
The battle erupted instantly.
An ancient magical feast has disturbed this peaceful land.
(End of this chapter)