Lockhart's research with his favourite student, Tom, wasn't going very smoothly. This was because Tom, a wizard utterly obsessed with the concept of "I" and his own identity, instinctively resisted the terrifying idea of the Polyjuice Potion.
"Professor, have you ever considered that if a witch drinks Polyjuice Potion and becomes another person, is the child she bears her own, or the child of the person she transformed into?"
This... Lockhart blinked, pondering this explosive question, and finally shook his head, admitting that he didn't, in fact, know everything.
"I've looked through records; the Lestrange family history once documented this," Tom explained. The Lestrange family, one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight pure-blood families, now had their last two male members, and one of their wives, Bella, all serving time in Azkaban as Death Eaters.
Tom spoke of this with utter disgust, his handsome young face scrunching up. "A wife with no morals whatsoever, to satisfy her husband, heavily used Polyjuice Potion to take on the appearance of other women, fulfilling their nauseating bedroom desires."
"The final result was that a Lestrange husband and a Gaunt wife produced a Shacklebolt child." (P.S.: Shacklebolt family members generally have dark skin, making them quite easy to identify.)
"This incident caused a huge scandal back then, making everyone fear for themselves, terrified that their hair or skin flakes might be picked up by someone, and then they'd inexplicably gain a blood relative."
"You know, the connection between blood relatives is extraordinary, especially if someone casts blessings, curses, or destiny-altering magic on this child, it could easily affect the wizard who doesn't even know they have offspring."
"Some effects are fatal, while others are subtle enough to influence a person's character, decisions, inclinations, and everything else without ever being noticed..."
Lockhart listened, utterly stunned.
"A single strand of hair can completely transform a person into another, even if the soul remains their own, the mind remains their own, but all the memories, instincts, and bloodline carried by the body completely change!"
Tom gestured to the blackboard where the professor had discussed werewolves, saying, "Lycanthropy, I believe, is like this strand of hair. It forcibly causes a transformation on the full moon night; it's essentially the same principle."
"Your resurrection spell!" Lockhart suddenly exclaimed, realizing.
"What?" Tom looked bewildered.
"You plan to use the Basilisk for resurrection, is it that for the Basilisk, your soul fragment is like that strand of hair, possessing the Basilisk's body and eventually transforming into your own appearance?" Lockhart, excited, gesticulated wildly with his hands.
Tom fell silent. He clearly hadn't realised before that these two matters could be connected. Finally, he shook his head with a hint of regret. "I don't know, but the Basilisk passed down by Slytherin seems to have lost all vitality after such an immensely long time."
He looked up at the Basilisk, coiled like a tattered rag on Slytherin's statue, and sighed. "I don't know why it's become like this, but even if I used it to resurrect, I wouldn't last long."
Lockhart patted his wizarding robe pocket, instructing the little golden retriever and the Boggart hiding inside to quiet down and stop snickering in there; it wouldn't do for Tom to notice anything amiss.
"Do you want to try?" he asked sincerely. "I recently learned a 'Soul-Manifesting Charm' that might help you, perhaps help you last a little longer."
Tom hesitated, yet anticipation was hard to suppress. He stammered, "Is it possible?"
"How will you know the result if you don't try? Theory is theory; let's just try it and see." Lockhart excitedly pulled his wand from his pocket and hissed, summoning the Basilisk to descend from the statue. He had briefly turned into Voldemort during his time-travel adventures and had gained the ability of Parseltongue from that experience. Now, his Parseltongue was good enough to command the Basilisk. In fact, even if he didn't know Parseltongue, this Basilisk, which he and his friends had tormented over and over again, had become obedient, showing no sign of its former serpentine majesty. Hearing his voice, it instinctively trembled, but ultimately dared not disobey, pitifully slithering down to the ground.
Tom clearly disliked this Basilisk. That was just how he was; he had only two categories for everything in the world: useful to him, and useless to him. This Basilisk now belonged to the category of useless rubbish, the kind whose death wouldn't cause him any grief. Thus, Tom was somewhat reluctant. He considered himself to be the best and believed that everything he used should also be the best. For example, Horcruxes: using a grain of sand or an inconspicuous brick to make a Horcrux would undoubtedly better conceal his vital weakness, but he simply refused. He absolutely insisted on using the finest objects to create them.
"Even if it's just for a day?" Lockhart coaxed. "Tom, how long has it been since you've had a hot meal? How long since you've had a good night's sleep as a human? Doesn't your soul get tired?"
Tom shook his head. "Professor, existing in a soul state is a very peculiar experience. I don't feel much desire for human food, drink, shelter, or anything else..." Before he could finish, he suddenly noticed the professor's wand flick.
Obliviate!
A silent spell!
Tom looked bewildered for a moment, then stared blankly at the slithering Basilisk, caught in a dilemma.
"Voldemort is looking for you everywhere. Perhaps you need a body so that you won't be utterly defenseless when he finds you," Professor Lockhart's voice echoed in his ear.
Tom's pupils widened. He turned back to Lockhart in disbelief. "You know I'm Voldemort?"
Oh dear! My apologies! Got that wrong! Try again!
Obliviate!
"Aren't you always trying to resurrect yourself? You're not even willing to try this much..."
Obliviate!
"Perhaps this is an opportunity, to become human, to live in Hogwarts..."
Obliviate!
"..."
He tried more than a dozen times.
"Just do it for me!" Lockhart was too lazy to find reasons to persuade Tom anymore. He habitually waved his wand, casually uttering a perfunctory line, and was about to continue waving his wand out of habit.
"Alright!" Tom agreed, nodding.
Oblivi... wait, what?!
Lockhart was startled. "Are you sure?"
Tom took a deep breath, as if suppressing his emotions. "I know, Professor, you've always explored the magical fields of Dark Creature Defence and breeding. You don't need my help with anything. When you say 'do it for me,' you're actually trying to help me..." His voice, forcibly suppressed and slightly choked, made his tone sound strange. "I've decided to try!"
Erm... Lockhart actually wanted to say, Is there a possibility, Tom, that in my eyes you're just a type of Dark Creature in a peculiar state? And your resurrection, in essence, is a process of transformation from a Dark Creature to a human?
"Don't say that," Lockhart said, a little embarrassed, as he ruffled the silly boy's head. "If you can successfully resurrect, Professor will be very happy too."
So, the experiment began.
According to Tom's original plan, he was supposed to control a wizard (Ginny) to drain their human life force, and then use the flesh and blood of the Basilisk, his servant, to complete his resurrection. However, this experiment was much simpler: Tom only needed to possess the Basilisk.
This was incredibly easy for him, a Parseltongue Dark Wizard. Soon, rays of light emerged from the diary Horcrux, swirling around his translucent figure, finally drifting in unison towards the Basilisk.
The Basilisk initially resisted and struggled, but it was quickly ordered by Tom, through Parseltongue, not to resist, and helplessly awaited its body's forfeiture.
While waiting, Lockhart curiously looked at the diary Horcrux beside him and found it looked just like an ordinary book. It displayed a large amount of text, some by Lockhart, some by Ginny, and surprisingly, some by Lucius Malfoy.
Aha~ Lucius, it seems, wasn't so peaceful either.
Lockhart, with great interest, perused Lucius's memories within the diary. He could clearly see that Lucius had once meticulously tried to communicate with Tom Riddle, but ultimately gained no benefit.
—Tom: Lucius, find a way to get the diary into the hands of a Weasley family member!
—Lucius: ...Why the Weasleys?
—Tom: Their magical bloodline helps maintain spiritual vitality. You wouldn't understand. I have more possibilities when I am near a Weasley.
This... Lockhart blinked, realizing with a jolt that Lucius, by stuffing the diary into Ginny's schoolbook, probably hadn't intended for it to end up at Hogwarts, where Dumbledore was present!
"Helps maintain spiritual vitality?" What kind of magical bloodline talent was this? Lockhart continuously flipped through the information in his mind, trying to find any related content.
Was it Peter Pettigrew, who had lived with the Weasleys for over a decade? Arthur's flying car? The ghoul in the attic?
Woah~ He seemed to have stumbled upon something interesting!
As he was flipping through, a hiss came from beside him—"Professor, I am ready."
Lockhart turned around and was nearly startled. The already hideous Basilisk now had a grotesque face suddenly appear on its forehead, like a large tumour growing on its head.
The little golden retriever scurried from his pocket onto his shoulder, watching the Basilisk warily, ready to defend against the creature at any moment. The Boggart, meanwhile, slipped down his trouser leg, transforming into inconspicuous strands of hair that fell to the ground. They then continuously extended and climbed within the cracks of the bricks, unnoticed by anyone, until the hair strands filled all the crevices, subtly forming a hair-net resembling a pattern created from the floor tiles. This was a common Dark magical creature known as 'Thousand-Knot Thoughts,' also called 'Trouble Strands.'
And the sack cloak, that red magical cloak, floated in mid-air, subtly covering everything around, unseen even by the Basilisk. If anything dared to attack Lockhart, they would certainly act immediately!
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