The Prisoners of Hogwarts

Chapter 219 Tom Riddell

Chapter 219 Tom Riddell

Lin Qi's gaze, sharp as a hawk's, was fixed on the black diary lying quietly.

His gaze was so focused, his sharp eyes almost piercing through him, that Lockhart, standing beside him, was also affected by this unusual atmosphere, his gaze involuntarily following and falling on the seemingly ordinary diary.

The light inside the secret chamber was already dim, relying on the runes that emitted a ghostly green glow and the pale reflection from the water's surface.

In the flickering light, Lockhart blinked sharply, almost thinking he was hallucinating. He saw that the still-wet water stains on the damp cover of the diary seemed to have come alive, slowly and eerily wriggling, as if countless tiny black tentacles were silently seeping into the black leather until they disappeared completely.

Immediately afterwards, a bone-chilling cold spread out from the diary, and a visible, pale black mist filled the air. Lockhart watched in horror as thick, inky black shadows surged forth from the slowly, automatically turning pages. They twisted and coalesced, no longer just ethereal mist, but rapidly outlining a blurry yet imposing human figure.

The outline became clearer and clearer, more and more solid, and a young man with black hair, handsome features, and wearing an old Hogwarts school robe appeared there.

He appeared to be standing, but in reality, he was slightly suspended above the diary. His body was translucent and emitted a cold, eerie light, like a ghost from the underworld.

The moment he appeared, the air in the entire secret room seemed to freeze, and even the ever-present, breathing-like echo disappeared, leaving only a suffocating silence.

The young man's deep, cold eyes first swept over Harry, who was lying on the ground unconscious, and a barely perceptible smile seemed to appear on his lips. Then, his gaze fell on Lockhart, who stood frozen in place, his face ashen.

Lockhart's mouth hung open, his wand still pointing in the general direction where Harry had been, but he was completely petrified—this time for real, driven by extreme fear. He stared at the ghost that had emerged from the diary, a ghost that was clearly not benevolent, his mind blank.

The young man didn't even make any obvious move; his indifferent gaze simply lingered on Lockhart for a moment.

"Vain and stupid trash." A clear, calm voice, with a certain magnetism but no warmth, rang out in the secret room.

As he finished speaking, Lockhart convulsed violently, his eyes rolled back instantly, his wand slipped from his hand, and he fell straight backward like a puppet with its strings cut, crashing into the thin layer of water with a "plop," splashing up a spray of water, and then there was no more movement, only ripples slowly spreading around him.

The young man didn't look at Lockhart again, as if he had simply cleared away an eyesore.

His gaze shifted to Lin Qi, the only person still standing and the only one with a normal expression.

Lynch stood there, silently watching Lockhart's life fade away before his eyes.

Those eyes, which always shone with exaggerated brilliance, gradually lost focus, and the last glimmer of light went out completely. The carefully maintained face was frozen with the last moment of terror and disbelief.

Just as he had predicted—Lockhart's soul had been completely drained by the diary, and his physical death was merely a belated ritual.

Then, Lin Qi's gaze returned to the black diary, and to the figure emerging from it...

The young male wizard, radiating a cold, eerie light, possessed something... that was truly unexpected.

"Professor Lynch, right?" The young man's voice rang out again. He hovered, drifting slightly closer to Lynch, scrutinizing him carefully. "I've heard a lot about you. Now that I see you, you truly live up to your reputation."

"It's basic courtesy to state your name before asking someone," Lynch said calmly, looking at the young wizard.

A faint hint of surprise flashed across the young wizard's face, which quickly turned into a slightly amused expression.

He gave a graceful, slight bow, a gesture that, despite his levitating posture, appeared perfectly natural. "Excuse me. Tom Riddle. A former student of Slytherin at Hogwarts."

"Tom Riddle—" Lynch repeated the name, his gaze scrutinizing. "I seem to recall him. In the school's honor room, there's a special contribution award medal awarded to a student named Tom Riddle."

A genuine, mixed look of pride and nostalgia flashed across Riddle's eyes, but he quickly concealed it.

"It's amazing that an ancient castle still remembers its most outstanding child."

Then, he changed the subject: "However, what surprises me even more is you, Professor Lynch. As far as I know, you've only been teaching here for two years—"

He hovered, drifting forward slightly, his probing intent no longer concealed in his tone.

"Yet you were able to appear so quickly, right after Lockhart and Potter infiltrated this place. This means you not only believed in the existence of the Chamber of Secrets, but also knew its exact location—something no ordinary professor could do. Even I spent years confirming and finding this place." He stared intently at Lynch, trying to find a flaw in his expression. "I'm curious, how did you do it? Did Dumbledore give you some secret? Or do you yourself—have some connection to Salazar-Slytherin's legacy that even I haven't noticed?"

Riddle's question echoed in the empty, confined room, his tone inquisitive.

Lin Qi met his scrutinizing gaze with a smile.

"Secret? Contact? No, it's not that complicated, Mr. Riddle." His voice was as calm as if stating a perfectly ordinary fact. "I just followed the tracks left by your pet."

"A pet?" A slight crack appeared on Riddle's perfect expression, and the cold light around him seemed to freeze for a moment.

"That basilisk," Lynch said directly, his gaze refocusing on Riddle's face, his smile widening. "It crawls through the castle's pipes; though well-hidden, it's not entirely without a trace."

"After the first attack, I determined its movement pattern within the castle."

"And then there was the last time—the time you ordered it to stand in front of the stairs and try to attack Ginny Weasley."

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"I don't know if you were carrying out some kind of scheme to test the poor girl's usefulness, or if you simply wanted to silence her and cover up your existence."

"It was the traces left by the basilisk that guided me all the way here."

"It's just that I can't open the door."