Gilderoy Lockhart stood in the shadows of a quiet alley in Kuoh City, holding a small, enchanted satchel containing five hundred vials of Phenex Tears. The exchange with Rias Gremory had gone exactly as he planned, but there was a deeper satisfaction coursing through him—a sense of victory, of control. The Phenex Tears were some of the most powerful healing resources in any dimension, and now they were his. He had made the deal, secured the advantage, and walked away with exactly what he wanted.
But as the Kaleidoscope magic stirred in his veins, Gilderoy knew he couldn't stay in Kuoh City much longer. The longer he remained in a world not his own, the more his presence would draw attention, and this was no place to linger. There were other powers in this dimension, after all—ones that even Rias Gremory didn't fully control. He had to return to Hogwarts and secure the Tears, but the success of this venture had planted new seeds in his mind. If he could come here and make a deal with devils, what else could he achieve in other realms?
He felt the familiar hum of magic begin to pulse around him as he prepared to use the Kaleidoscope once again. The world around him shimmered, twisting in and out of focus. The lights of Kuoh City blurred, the sounds of the bustling streets faded into an eerie quiet, and then, in a flash, Gilderoy was gone.
In the next moment, he stood back in his office at Hogwarts. The familiar surroundings—the grandiose portraits of himself, the comfortable desk—offered a strange sense of normalcy after the surreal world he had just left. He placed the satchel of Phenex Tears on the desk, taking a moment to admire his spoils.
"Five hundred vials," he whispered to himself. "This should prove useful."
He sat down, his fingers drumming idly on the desk as his mind raced. The Phenex Tears could heal wounds that no magical cure in this world could touch. It was the kind of advantage that could shift the balance of power in ways no one here could foresee. He could hoard them, using them in the direst moments—or sell them, trading them to desperate wizards and witches for favors, gold, and power.
Yet, there was more to be considered. The very act of using Kaleidoscope magic had opened doors to realms he had only glimpsed in the past. Now that he had made a deal with the Gremory family, the potential for further alliances—further manipulations—was limitless. If Rias had been willing to trade the Phenex Tears for a mere copy of The Fool, what might she—or others—be willing to give him in the future?
But something else gnawed at Gilderoy. The deal with Rias had been smooth, too smooth, and he knew enough about devils to understand that they were never easily outwitted. Rias Gremory had taken the card willingly, seeing its potential to defeat Riser Phenex, her arranged fiancé, whose regenerating abilities made him seemingly invincible. She believed the card would give her the edge she needed to nullify his magic and turn the duel in her favor.
What Gilderoy hadn't told her was that the copy of The Fool card, while powerful, wasn't a guaranteed win. Its ability to neutralize magic would work, but only for a limited time and within a specific range. He had left out those details on purpose. If the card failed her at a critical moment, it would sow chaos—chaos that Gilderoy could one day exploit.
There was a soft knock on the door, startling him from his thoughts. Gilderoy's eyes narrowed. It was late, and visitors were rare at this hour. With a flick of his wand, the door opened.
"Come in."
To his surprise, it wasn't a student. Standing in the doorway was Severus Snape. His expression was as dour as ever, his dark eyes gleaming with suspicion.
"Lockhart," Snape said, his voice dripping with disdain. "You have some explaining to do."
Lockhart's easy smile returned, though inwardly he braced himself. "Ah, Severus! What brings you to my office at such an hour?"
Snape didn't bother with pleasantries. He strode into the room, his black robes billowing behind him like the wings of a great bat. His gaze fell on the satchel resting on the desk, and his lip curled slightly.
"I beleive you've been conducting… extracurricular activities, Lockhart," Snape said, his voice dangerously low. "And I'm not referring to your usual lies and fabrications."
Lockhart raised an eyebrow, maintaining his relaxed demeanor. "I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about, Severus. Just a quiet evening in my office. Surely there's nothing wrong with that."
Snape's eyes flicked to the satchel again. "Do not insult my intelligence. There's something in this room—something foreign. And it reeks of magic that doesn't belong here."
Gilderoy's smile faltered for a fraction of a second. Snape's sharp senses were unnerving, but Gilderoy need to learn to deal with far more dangerous figures than the potions master. He needed to maintain his composure, to brush off Snape's accusations with the same casual charm that had won him countless admirers.
"I assure you, Severus, I've done nothing out of the ordinary," Lockhart said, standing and moving to the satchel, making a show of casually placing a hand on it. "This? Merely some potion ingredients I've been experimenting with. A bit of research, nothing more."
Snape's eyes narrowed, and for a moment, Lockhart thought he might reach for his wand. But instead, Snape remained still, his face a mask of cold calculation.
"You may fool the others," Snape said quietly, "but not me. There's something… different about you, Lockhart. And I will find out what it is."
Lockhart chuckled lightly, though there was no humor in it. "Severus, you give me far too much credit. I'm just a humble professor, here to inspire young minds. If you're looking for something sinister, I'm afraid you'll be disappointed."
Snape stepped closer, his eyes boring into Lockhart's. "We'll see."
With that, he turned and left the room, the door closing softly behind him.
Lockhart let out a slow breath, his hand tightening around the satchel's handle. He had been careful, but Snape was proving to be a greater threat than he had anticipated. The potions master had an uncanny ability to sense when something was wrong, and while Gilderoy had managed to deflect him for now, it was clear that Snape wouldn't stop digging.
Moving to his desk, Gilderoy opened the satchel and pulled out one of the vials of Phenex Tears. The golden liquid inside shimmered with an otherworldly glow, and just holding it filled him with a sense of power. This was the kind of resource that could save lives, tip battles, and if used properly might even grant someone near-immortality.
But he couldn't afford to let Snape, Dumbledore, or anyone else know about the deal he had made. The stakes were too high, and if the truth came out, it could unravel everything he had built.
Gilderoy placed the vial back in the satchel and sealed it with a spell, ensuring that no one but him could access its contents. For now, he would keep the Phenex Tears hidden, using them only when necessary. But there was no denying that he had just taken a dangerous step deeper into the world of forbidden magic.And Dumbledore knew something and most definitely he's the one who put snape after him.
As he sat back in his chair, his mind drifted to Kuoh City once again. The deal with Rias had been a success, but there were still countless possibilities waiting for him across the dimensions. The Kaleidoscope magic had given him access to worlds beyond imagination, and the more he used it, the more he realized how much there was left to explore.
And while Rias Gremory believed she had gained the upper hand in her battle with Riser Phenex, Gilderoy knew that his gift of The Fool was only the beginning. He had planted the seeds of chaos, and in time, he would reap the rewards.
But for now, he had to remain cautious. Dumbledore, Snape, and the rest of Hogwarts were watching closely, and any misstep could bring everything crashing down.
Lockhart smiled to himself as he extinguished the candle, plunging the room into darkness. He had crossed into new territory, and the weight of immortality—the power to bend life and death to his will—rested in his hands.
But there was still so much more to be done.