Lockhart's POV
As soon as I stepped through the gate, what greeted me was a vast hall filled with glass display tables like a museum.
But unlike museums, what lay here weren't historical artifacts, but magical components that, if brought to light, could spark civil or even international wars over them.
The moment I entered, I walked toward a large panel full of names.
It was a board I'd made to summon each component by pressing the name.
Alright, first I need one Dawn Seed.
I pressed the name, and in front of me appeared a small, clear crystal seed.
And next, an Age Leaf.
I pressed the name, and a dark green leaf appeared, lined with fine silver veins resembling clock hands or old Roman numerals.
I kept pressing until I had gathered twelve leaves.
Then I pressed the name Sunset Narcissus, and what appeared was a traditional daffodil, but its petals were tinted a deep orange, with the edges lined with a rich crimson as if burning with the last rays of the sun.
Its stem was long and copper-colored, with broad, silky dark leaves.
Then I pressed Vine of Life, and in front of me appeared a bright green climbing plant.
Its stems intertwined to form a living network along the walls and edges.
Its leaves were rather broad, shimmering green as if always covered in fresh dew.
Tiny round white flowers bloomed from the middle of the vine like little stars pulsing with faint light at dusk.
Now, the Shadow Bloom.
I pressed the name, and a flower appeared drooping from a short stalk, its velvet-black color absorbing the light around it.
At its center were dark purple lines converging in the shape of a half-closed eye.
If shaken slightly, it shed a black glittering dust like stardust ash.
And finally, Veil Moss.
In front of me appeared a damp moss in a silvery-gray hue, its tiny interwoven leaves looking like a soft carpet shimmering under dim light.
When touched, it released a fine, transparent mist that looked like glittering smoke.
And last but not least, the Time Worm I had extracted from myself and stored here as a backup.
I spoke out loud, pressed the name, and there it appeared — a nearly ethereal, transparent worm, very short, made up of twelve segments.
Time to leave, I thought.
I stepped back through the gate into the banquet hall, grabbed the old candelabrum, and infused it with my spiritual power again.
The gate began to close until only a thin line of light remained in the air, which then drew back into the candelabrum.
I returned the candelabrum to its place, left the hall, and walked down the corridor leading to the library.
I approached one of the shelves, pulled out a red book, and whispered quietly:
"Time Trickster
Master of Magic
Cunning Thief
Scholar of the Paranormal."
Once I finished, I returned the book, and the wall split open, revealing a staircase lit by magical torches.
I descended the stairs until a wooden door appeared before me. I grasped the handle, infused it with my spiritual power, and opened it to reveal a spacious room.
On one side was a shelf stocked with ingredients I considered essential for any ritual, and five cauldrons of varying sizes — from normal to massive, taller than me — with not a speck of dust on them.
I walked to the giant cauldron, placed it over the floor's built-in burner, used an Aguamenti charm, and poured water into it until it was filled with about thirty liters.
I lit the fire underneath.
At that moment, I pulled Tom's diary out of the hidden pocket in my shirt and broke the seal.
"Hello Tom. Do you know what moment this is?" I said with a smile.
"The moment you restore your body and perform the memory ritual, right?"
"Well… yes, this is the moment. But you were supposed to ask, 'What moment is this?' and I'd answer you. Then you'd act all amazed or nervous and put up a last bit of resistance or something like that."
I said with a hint of feigned disappointment.
"What's the point?" Tom wrote back.
"You're stronger than me, smarter than me, better than me.
And there's no way I can resist you in my state anyway.
What about draining my vitality? Didn't you try that before?"
"Yes, and it failed. And you don't know me as well as you think if you believe I'd foolishly try something that failed before and expect a different result."
Tom scribbled on the empty pages with disdain:
"Feels like there's more to this."
I chuckled.
"After thinking about it, what you're about to do isn't necessarily bad for me. It's not like I'll vanish — my memories will just return to an age of thirty anyway."
He wrote, and I swear he sighed in resignation — or maybe my mind just added the sound effect. Either way, it didn't matter.
"So you're giving in to my whim?" I teased.
"I'd rather say I'm agreeing to a second chance — one without bombs and fights over food."
"But you're giving in to my whim."
"If that will shut you up and get this started before I change my mind, then yes, I'm giving in to your whim. Happy now?"
"Good, let's begin then. Do you want to say anything before I seal your memories?"
Tom fell silent for a moment before writing:
"Tell Dumbledore I've always hated him, still hate him for judging me one-sidedly at the orphanage, for sending me back there during war and famine. I'll always hate him, memories or not."
I fell silent too — I didn't know what to say. I hadn't expected that.
Suddenly, I realized: I'm a great teacher, a skilled wizard, an eldritch monster hunter — but nothing prepared me for how to respond to words coming straight from a wounded child's heart.
All I could say was:
"I'll tell him that."
"Thank you… now can we start?" Tom wrote.
"I'll start right away… Good night, Tom."
"Good night… Father."
I drew my wand, aimed it at the diary, and said:
"Memoria Claustrum."
I focused:
"18 years
0 months
0 days
0 hours
0 minutes
0 seconds"
The moment I finished, a blue light shot from my wand and struck the diary.
I slipped my wand back into its holder and wrote on the pages:
"Tom, are you there? …Tom, can you hear me?"
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