Although Draco’s method did help narrow down the list of suspects, actually putting it into action was far from simple or easy.
That much became clear over the days that followed...
“Any news?”
“No, they’ve only completed part of it. It’ll still take time.”
Pansy, more eager than even Draco himself, asked Goyle and the others this same question every morning. But the answer was always disappointing.
Draco, on the other hand, seemed to be the least concerned.
“No need to rush. If it were that easy to figure out, the Chamber of Secrets wouldn’t be such a legend in the first place.”
As he spoke, Draco raised his cup and took a sip of freshly brewed Gurdyroot Infusion. His calm demeanor made Pansy’s eye twitch involuntarily.
The strange girl, who had shown up again as usual, also took a sip beside him. It had become so routine that if she didn’t appear one day, it would actually feel unsettling—as if something might’ve happened to her.
Maybe that was why Draco’s words didn’t do much to reassure Pansy...
“A legend, huh... Do you think there could be a Crumple-Horned Snorkack in the Chamber?”
“Even if you ask me that…”
“If I could just find out who opened the Chamber, I could ask them whether there’s a Crumple-Horned Snorkack inside.”
“...Yeah, I’d like to know who it is too.”
Faced with the girl’s airy, whimsical gaze, Pansy had no response. All she could do was roll her eyes.
Who on earth would want to know if a Crumple-Horned Snorkack was in there? That’s not something a normal person would be curious about, right?
“And what even is a Crumple-Horned Snorkack...?”
Hearing Pansy’s muttered sigh, Draco chuckled, set his cup down, and turned his gaze to a letter he’d just received.
The sender was Dobby, the House-elf...
...
In fact, the slow progress wasn’t just due to the complexity of the investigation. With all young wizards confined to their common rooms or dormitories outside of class and mealtimes, it had become nearly impossible to make any headway.
This measure, while effective in quelling initial panic, had cast a heavy tension over Hogwarts—as if the whole place might explode at any moment.
And in the midst of this stifling atmosphere, a certain attention-loving professor couldn’t resist making his move...
“Did you hear?”
“Hear what?”
“Professor Lockhart’s apparently organizing something called a Duelling Club. No idea what it’s supposed to be for.”
“Duelling Club? What’s that?”
“Not sure. Probably just another one of his autograph sessions or something.”
With Quidditch matches canceled and everyone stuck in their common rooms, the news quickly became the most anticipated event among the students.
Perfect timing, perfect setting, perfect audience—Lockhart really couldn’t have chosen a better moment...
The Duelling Club was to be held in the Great Hall.
At 8 p.m., Draco and the others followed the crowd there.
The long dining tables had vanished. In their place, a gilded stage had been set up against the wall, bathed in the light of hundreds of floating candles above. It was large enough to hold several people.
The ceiling had turned pitch-black again, like velvet—just like during the Sorting Ceremony. Except for the one Weasley still recovering in the infirmary, every student in Hogwarts was present.
It had been a long time since there was a big event like this, so excitement buzzed through the air as young wizards whispered to each other, wands in hand...
“Duels... They mean real duels, right?”
“I wonder who’s going to teach us.”
“Someone told me Professor Flitwick was a dueling champion in his youth—maybe he’s the one.”
Still, not everyone looked thrilled. Most noticeably, Draco and his group.
It wasn’t just disinterest. It probably had more to do with the fact that it was Professor Lockhart...
“Honestly, Draco, I think you’re way more qualified to teach us than Lockhart.”
“Yeah, totally!”
“Exactly!”
Pansy’s comment got an instant chorus of agreement from Goyle and Crabbe, which drew a puzzled look from Gary and his group nearby.
“You guys don’t know, huh? Every so often, we go through hellish training sessions with Draco at Malfoy Manor.”
“Yep. I don’t know what this Duelling Club’s about, but I doubt we’ll actually learn anything.”
Though Goyle and Crabbe were a little higher in status, they weren’t arrogant about it. If anything, they were just happy to have found like-minded company.
So when Gary and his group looked confused, Goyle and Crabbe explained it casually...
Just as Pansy was complaining to Draco, a dramatic, almost operatic voice rang out from one corner of the stage.
“Gather around, gather around! Can everyone see me? Can everyone hear me? Excellent!”
Lockhart, dressed in a rich purple robe and sporting an immaculately styled head of hair, was absolutely radiant under the candlelight, flashing a gleaming white smile.
“Professor Dumbledore has kindly permitted me to establish this little Duelling Club. My goal is simple—to ensure you’re well-trained and prepared to defend yourselves should the need arise. I myself have used these techniques countless times to great success! For more details, please consult my published works.”
At first, his speech moved the students, who’d been feeling uneasy lately. So that’s why he started the club—to teach them how to protect themselves. It sounded noble.
Until that last line. At once, whatever excitement they had crumbled, and their enthusiasm dimmed.
By now, after sitting through enough of Lockhart’s classes, almost every student had come to see him for what he truly was...
A complete fraud.
But when their eyes shifted to the silent figure standing beside him, a ripple of interest passed through the crowd.
It was Severus Snape—a formidable wizard known for his mastery of Dark magic...