After three days, Victor returned to Malfoy Manor.
The visit to the Lovegoods ended without incident. Luna had been… consistent, and the orchard had survived.
Back at home, he turned his attention to the next item on his list.
Marvolo Gaunt's ring.
He tried to recall the exact location from memory. A ruined shack. Somewhere connected to Little Hangleton.
Hidden under the floorboards. But the details were blurred. He remembered Dumbledore retrieving it years later, remembered the curse placed upon it, but the precise location escaped him.
He spent hours reconstructing what he knew from the timeline in Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince. The Gaunt house was isolated, neglected, surrounded by decay. But knowing that and pinpointing it were different matters.
Eventually, he stopped.
He could not act on incomplete certainty. A misstep with that ring would be fatal.
As for Tom Riddle's diary, he searched discreetly within the manor.
The diary had been entrusted to Lucius by Voldemort before his fall, and Lucius would have hidden it carefully—likely among dark artifacts where it would not draw suspicion.
Victor found nothing.
That was expected.
The diary would surface when Lucius chose to use it. Until then, it remained concealed.
With two objectives temporarily out of reach, summer settled into a quieter rhythm. Days passed with measured routine. Training. Reading. Observing.
Second year was approaching.
During that time, the Ministry of Magic began conducting Auror searches on several old wizarding families, claiming it was part of a campaign to confiscate Dark artefacts.
The raids were presented as routine enforcement. Officially, it was about removing cursed objects left behind after the war.
Unofficially, it was pressure.
Families with old names and questionable loyalties were inspected without warning. Collections were examined. Cabinets were opened. Items quietly disappeared before officials arrived.
The message from the Ministry was simple: cooperate, or face public embarrassment.
Even families like that of Lucius Malfoy were not formally exempt. Influence could delay, not erase.
Lucius handled it as he always did — through letters, connections, and quiet pressure.
The inspection date was postponed under the pretext of scheduling conflicts and formal review. No outright refusal. Just controlled delay.
Victor noticed the subtle shift in the Manor. A few artifacts vanished from their usual display rooms.
Then, in the middle of that quiet tension, an owl arrived at breakfast.
A Hogwarts seal.
Victor broke the wax and unfolded the parchment.
Second-year book list.
He scanned it once and immediately stopped at the heading.
The entire works of Gilderoy Lockhart.
Gilderoy Lockhart had been appointed the new Defence Against the Dark Arts professor.
Victor lowered the parchment slowly.
They truly found no one else? he thought dryly. I could manage better, and I'm twelve.
Lockhart's name was famous enough. Smiling photographs in shop windows. Signed copies stacked high in Flourish and Blotts. Tales of banshees, werewolves, and remote villages saved by his brilliance.
Victor knew better.
Lockhart wasn't incompetent at everything. He was exceptional at one thing — Obliviation. Memory modification so clean that even skilled wizards struggled to undo it.
That was how he collected his "adventures." He found the real heroes, extracted their stories, polished them into autobiographies, and erased the witnesses.
A charming parasite in lilac robes.
Victor folded the book list neatly.
Defence Against the Dark Arts would teach him nothing this year.
That much was certain.
***
One bright afternoon in Diagon Alley, the crowd outside Flourish and Blotts was thicker than usual.
Banners hung across the shopfront, proclaiming a special book-signing event. Stacks of lilac-covered volumes filled the display window.
At the center of it all stood Gilderoy Lockhart himself, robes an even brighter shade than his smile.
Witches clustered near the table, clutching copies of Magical Me. A photographer from the Daily Prophet hovered nearby, flash sparking as Lockhart tilted his head at just the right angle for each shot.
He was speaking loudly, naturally.
"…my autobiography, of course, contains highlights from a life devoted to the eradication of the Dark Forces," Lockhart declared, flashing dazzling teeth as he signed another book with an exaggerated flourish.
Victor stood at the edge of the shop, watching the spectacle unfold.
The applause was enthusiastic. The admiration was genuine.
The fraud was flawless.
He looked at the long queue of witches waiting breathlessly for a signature.
Unbelievable, he thought flatly.
A hand tapped his shoulder.
Victor turned and found himself facing Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley, Harry Potter — and slightly behind them, clutching a brand-new copy of Magical Me, stood Ginny Weasley.
"So," Victor said, glancing at the stack of lilac books in their arms, "you're here for an autograph as well?"
"Yes," Hermione replied at once, eyes bright. "He's accomplished extraordinary things. You should read Break with a Banshee. The defensive theory alone is impressive."
Ginny nodded quickly, clearly overwhelmed by the entire scene.
Victor looked back toward the signing table, where Lockhart was now recounting how he had personally subdued a horde of vampires while maintaining perfect hair.
The witches in line sighed audibly.
Hermione and Ginny seemed almost star-struck, watching every gesture as though witnessing history.
Victor exhaled slowly.
"Merlin have mercy," he muttered under his breath.
*****
A/N : 🔥 On Patreon, the story has already been updated up to Chapter 72🔥
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