THE MASTERMIND OF HOGWARTS

Luke straightened his back and declared loudly, like a soldier reporting for duty, "I assure you, young master, you will have first-hand information!"

With that, he swiftly dispatched all the house-elves in Slytherin Castle, orchestrating them like a military commander. Their destination? The main office of The Daily Prophet.

This method, while unconventional, was undeniably effective. By the time Moriarty finished his morning tea, the latest edition of The Daily Prophet was already in his hands.

The headline was printed in bold black ink:

"How Many Secrets Remain Hidden in the Wizarding World? Gilderoy Lockhart's New Book 'With Slytherin in Eastern Tibet' Shakes Britain!"

Moriarty unfolded the newspaper and began reading:

"The wizarding world's most celebrated bestselling author, Gilderoy Lockhart, has returned to Diagon Alley with a new book, hosting an exclusive launch event at Lichen Books…"

Beneath the article was a moving photograph of Lockhart, his signature toothy grin in place as he addressed a crowd. The article had transcribed his entire speech at the book launch.

Moriarty read it with interest, as if watching the scene unfold in real time.

In the moving image, Lockhart was dressed in an opulent, multicolored robe. His wavy blond hair shone under the bright lights of the bookshop. He lifted his wand theatrically and proclaimed:

"I, Gilderoy Lockhart! Three-time winner of Witch Weekly's Most Charming Smile Award—oh, but I won't go into that. You already know! But what you may not know is this—Salazar Slytherin's last living descendant has complimented my smile!"

The crowd gasped. Lockhart basked in their astonishment, pausing for dramatic effect.

"Oh, oh! Wizards, I know you must be surprised. You may think I'm joking! But no one dares to joke about Slytherin—Salazar Slytherin, one of Hogwarts' legendary Founders! And yes, his descendant has returned to the British wizarding world!"

"Quiet, quiet!" Lockhart gestured, feigning exasperation. "Don't behave like Muggles who have never witnessed true magic! I admit, when I first heard the news, I reacted just like you! Hahaha!"

His self-deprecating humor won over the crowd, drawing chuckles and enthusiastic applause. He flashed his dazzling white teeth, prompting several witches to swoon.

"But we are wizards! Take out your wands, ladies and gentlemen!" Lockhart dramatically flourished his own wand. "No, no, don't point them at me! Raise them in the air! Call out the name of Slytherin!"

The crowd hesitated. Then, Lockhart roared:

"Yes, that's right! Call out Slytherin! He shaped Hogwarts! He shaped our magical heritage!"

The audience murmured in agreement.

"For centuries, we believed Slytherin's lineage had ended with the Gaunts! That Gryffindor's bloodline faded into history alongside the dwindling wizarding families of Godric's Hollow!"

Lockhart's voice dropped, coaxing the crowd into hushed anticipation.

"But now… Now we have undeniable proof! The legacy of Slytherin lives on! A new era has begun!"

The energy in the bookshop shifted. The audience leaned forward, hanging onto his every word.

"And no, my dear wizards, this is not just an era for Slytherins! Not just for pure-bloods! This is an era of magical revival!"

The wizards erupted into applause. Lockhart grinned triumphantly.

"We belong to magic, just as Slytherin did! And the wizard who will lead us forward, the one who carries the blood of Salazar Slytherin, is none other than Moriarty Slytherin!"

A wave of cheers burst forth. Wands illuminated the air as wizards and witches roared:

"Slytherin!!!"

A handful of sharp-minded individuals began calling out a different name:

"Moriarty! Moriarty!"

Lockhart clapped his hands, pleased. He held up his new book. The cover depicted a striking illustration: a silver-haired boy soaring over snowy peaks on a broomstick, his green eyes intense with purpose.

"This is the story of my journey with Moriarty Slytherin in Eastern Tibet! A limited edition! Twelve Galleons and twelve Sickles per copy! And for the next three hours, I will be signing them personally!"

Lockhart winked at a group of witches, who promptly fainted.

But the true spectacle had just begun.

A surge of wizards rushed forward, desperate to secure a copy. Chaos erupted.

Those at the front clutched their books protectively, pressing Galleons into the hands of the overworked bookstore clerks before Disapparating on the spot—fearing that someone might steal their precious purchase.

Others, particularly young Slytherin students, cracked open the books right in Diagon Alley.

A wizard gasped as he read a few lines. "Merlin's beard! Parseltongue! The Slytherin staff! It's all real! Moriarty truly is a Slytherin heir!"

Another wizard, pointing to a passage, cried out:

"Moriarty wielded the Slytherin staff, etching ancient runes into the snow! Lockhart realized at that moment—this was no ordinary spell! This was family magic, passed down from Salazar Slytherin himself!"

Excited murmurs spread like wildfire.

A young witch clutched the book to her chest, sighing dreamily. "Oh, Moriarty! He looks so dashing on a broom! And he saved Lockhart! They're my two favorite wizards!"

Others analyzed the book with growing awe.

"If this were fiction, I would dismiss it outright. But these descriptions… they're too intricate, too detailed! I know ancient magic circles—this level of accuracy cannot be fabricated!"

The realization struck the crowd like a lightning bolt.

A tall, well-dressed wizard suddenly paled. "No—this isn't just a book. This is a blueprint! A guide to Slytherin's lost magic!"

Wizards exchanged alarmed glances.

Before the panic could fully set in, a new wave of customers stormed into Lichen Books.

A group of wizards had just Apparated back, eyes gleaming with hunger. They shoved past others, reaching for the remaining copies.

The well-dressed wizard's face darkened. "They're from the old pure-blood families! They're here to buy out the entire stock—to keep the secrets for themselves!"

"Drop that book!" someone bellowed.

The store descended into full-fledged chaos.

Lockhart, watching from atop a chair, laughed gleefully.

"Calm down, dear readers! I understand—I, too, can barely contain my excitement! But please, let's not behave like a bunch of trolls!"

As the crowd surged, Lockhart's shoe was knocked off. He bent down, still grinning, as he retrieved it.

Because in the far corner, his eyes had locked onto another figure—Rita Skeeter.

Their gazes met, and they exchanged knowing smiles.

Lockhart knew his novel had set the wizarding world ablaze.

And Rita? She thought of the gold bricks she had received days ago.

Her next article would be a masterpiece.