MTLNOVEL Chapter 182: The First Victim
The Great Hall of Hogwarts glittered under thousands of floating jack-o'-lanterns and shimmering bats. Long tables groaned beneath plates of roasted pumpkin, sugared skulls, and tarts shaped like miniature coffins. Halloween was always a splendid affair at Hogwarts—though Cael Vale noted with some regret that this year's festivities were strangely subdued. There were no ghost-led parties or enchanted skeletons dancing along the aisles. Still, the air buzzed with excitement and warmth.
Cael walked alongside Lee Jordan and the Weasley twins to the Gryffindor table, weaving between costumed students and hovering sweets. As he sat, Fred pushed a goblet toward him.
"Pumpkin juice? Or have you finally developed a taste for blood?" he asked, gesturing toward the Slytherin table where Pansy Parkinson was dressed like a bat—badly.
"Tempting," Cael said, "but I think I'd rather drain Lockhart's ego."
"Careful," George said, grinning. "Too big a job. You'd need a cauldron the size of Hagrid's hut."
They snorted with laughter as Cael tucked into a slice of pumpkin pie. Across the table, Lee Jordan groaned.
"No Halloween party this year," he said mournfully. "Last year we had Peeves juggling flaming cabbages."
"And nearly set Seamus's robes on fire," Cael reminded him.
"Best part of the night."
Just then, Dumbledore stood up at the golden lectern, his silver beard glowing softly in the candlelight.
"Welcome, welcome, everyone, to our annual Halloween Feast," he said, raising his arms. "Do enjoy the sweets—though I suggest saving some for the house-elves—"
The doors to the Great Hall slammed open with theatrical force.
A collective groan rolled through the Gryffindor table.
"Oh no," Fred whispered. "He's back."
Professor Lockhart strode in wearing polished golden armor and a sweeping crimson cape. On his chest gleamed a large silver "L" and an absurdly oversized medallion. He carried a plastic sword in one hand and a wand in the other. Behind him, half a dozen girls in faux-vampire costumes squealed in admiration, trailing him like overexcited bridesmaids.
"Fear not, children!" Lockhart cried, brandishing the sword dramatically. "Today, I reenact the defeat of the Hungarian vampire prince, Lar the Lurker, who I—Gilderoy Lockhart—defanged in a moonlit duel atop the Carpathians!"
"Sweet Merlin," muttered Cael. "He brought props."
Lockhart hopped up onto the dais and turned to Dumbledore. "Headmaster, I humbly request a few minutes of your time to entertain the students with an educational dramatization."
Dumbledore smiled with the weary patience of someone who'd long ago given up saying no. "Do carry on, Gilderoy."
Lockhart flourished a bow and launched into his performance. The "vampire" girls took turns lunging at him with hisses and plastic fangs while he fended them off with dazzling wand twirls and shouts like "Begone, foul temptress!" and "I am Gilderoy the Unbitten!"
The Gryffindor table erupted with stifled laughter and sarcastic commentary.
"This is the worst duel I've ever seen," Lee muttered.
"He's fighting imaginary undead with imaginary dignity," said Cael dryly.
Fred cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted, "Ten Galleons on the vampire!"
Lockhart paused mid-parry to wink at a blushing fifth-year Hufflepuff, nearly tripping over his own cloak.
As the theatrics continued, Cael's gaze swept the tables. That was when he noticed something curious: Hermione, Harry, and Ron were missing. But Ginny Weasley was still there, calmly eating a licorice bat and laughing with Luna Lovegood. Her color was normal, her eyes bright—nothing like the withdrawn, pale girl described in the books.
That's not right, Cael thought, frowning. If she had the diary, she'd be affected by now. That means… she doesn't have it. Maybe she never did.
He had barely processed that when the doors slammed open again—this time without fanfare.
A breathless Hufflepuff prefect hurried toward the staff table and whispered urgently to Professor McGonagall, who stiffened immediately. Her eyes widened, and she turned to Dumbledore, whispering something into his ear. Dumbledore rose, all humor gone from his expression.
Lockhart's act faltered mid-spin. "Something wrong, Headmaster?" he asked, clearly hoping to insert himself.
"An incident," Dumbledore replied tersely. "Please excuse me."
Lockhart puffed his chest. "Well, I shall accompany you—"
Before anyone could object, he followed Dumbledore, McGonagall, and Professor Sprout out of the hall. The buzz of murmurs grew. Students leaned toward each other in confusion.
"What happened?" asked George.
"No idea," Cael replied, already rising. "But I'm going to find out."
Lee, Fred, George, and Ginny trailed behind as Cael moved swiftly out of the hall and up the marble staircase. On the second floor, students were already gathering. Prefects tried to keep order, but it was no use—whispers flew through the air like sparks.
"I heard someone's been attacked!"
"It happened by the girls' lavatory!"
"It was a Slytherin —someone said he's frozen stiff—"
Cael's stomach dropped.
The corridor outside Moaning Myrtle's bathroom was roped off by McGonagall's conjured barrier. Behind it stood Harry, Ron, and Hermione—faces pale but calm. Inside, Dumbledore, Snape, Lockhart, and Sprout hovered over a motionless figure sprawled in a puddle of water. The boy's skin was ghostly white, his limbs stiff, eyes wide open and full of terror.
It was Draco Malfoy.
Gasps rang out behind Cael.
"Oh no…"
"Is he dead?"
"Finally," Ron muttered, then covered it with a cough when Hermione elbowed him.
Snape spun toward Harry, his black robes billowing. "What did you do, Potter?! What did you do to him?!"
Harry stepped forward calmly. "Nothing. Me and Ron were at the ghost party with Nearly Headless Nick. Ask anyone."
"Convenient," Snape snapped. "You and Mr. Malfoy have had quite the… history."
"Only because he won't shut up about my Mother ," Harry replied evenly.
Snape's face darkened at the mention of Lily.
Dumbledore held up a hand. "Severus. Enough."
He turned to Madame Pomfrey, who was now examining Malfoy.
"He's petrified," she said at last. "Not dead. But unconscious. Magical paralysis. Same signs as—well, as legends say."
Professor Sprout stepped forward. "We'll need mature Mandrakes for the antidote, but mine are still too young."
Snape scowled and said, "I will inform his father."
As Snape swept away, Dumbledore turned to the trio. "Mr Potter and his friends . Come with me."
As they walked past, Hermione glanced back at Cael. Her expression was tight, unreadable.
⸻
Later, in the Headmaster's Office
Dumbledore folded his hands. "Mr. Potter. Tell us what happened."
Harry recounted the ghost party calmly, corroborated by Ron .
Snape, however, sneered. "This is no coincidence. You three—wherever trouble brews, there you are."
Harry's jaw clenched. "You think I did this?"
"You tell me. You loathed him. Everyone knows that."
"Then everyone also knows he loathed me first," Harry snapped. "He insults my dead mum every chance he gets."
Snape visibly flinched but masked it with a scowl.
Professor Lockhart, trying to assert himself, announced, "I've seen such cases before. Definitely fatal. You'll need to inform the family, Headmaster. Since the boy is already dead "
"Thank you, Gilderoy," Dumbledore said coolly. "Madame Pomfrey has already diagnosed him correctly. He is petrified, not dead."
McGonagall spoke next. "What should we do, Albus? This will cause a panic."
Dumbledore sighed. "We wait. Severus will contact Lucius Malfoy. I fear this may not be the last."
⸻
Outside the Office
As the trio left, Ron muttered, "You know, I didn't do it—but if I had, I wouldn't feel that guilty."
Hermione frowned. "Ron!"
"Well, it's Malfoy."
Cael stood sat by the fireplace in the Common Room , as he was remembering Malfoy's expression it seemed to be very horrified ,so he was thoughtful.
Draco was a pureblood. The message on the wall—The Chamber of Secrets Has Been Opened—had appeared, but nothing else. No threats to Muggle-borns. No Mrs. Norris.
Something's changed, Cael thought. Someone else has the diary. Someone with a different motive.