I stood inside the Room of Requirement, the familiar sight of the Gacha wheel glowing faintly in the dim light. The anticipation of the spin was a mix of excitement and indifference. After all, today wasn't just about what I could gain from the system; it was about watching the fraud finally crumble under the weight of his own lies.
Taking a deep breath, I pressed the [Spin] button. The wheel began its familiar rotation, each segment flickering with potential rewards. With a soft chime, the wheel stopped.
[Resurrection] : The ability to resurrect someone back to life at the exact moment of their death. Note: Requires the intact body of the deceased and seven souls to complete the process.
I raised an eyebrow, letting out a low whistle. "Well, that's... overpowered but extremely situational. Seven souls, huh? It's kinda like Sage's Ult but instead of the ability points it requires souls fair enough I guess but definitely not something I'm eager to test anytime soon."
Shrugging, I pressed the [Spin] button again. The wheel spun faster this time, the soft whirring sound almost hypnotic.
[Musical Mastery] : Why listen to music when you can create it?
I snorted. "Sure, why not? Maybe I'll start a wizarding boy band. Arthur Wayne and the Magic Beats. Has a ring to it." While the skill seemed mundane compared to the first reward, I supposed it could come in handy for entertainment—or for charming people I think.
For the final spin, I watched the wheel slow down and come to a halt.
[Nail] : An iron nail.
I stared at the notification, unblinking. "A nail. A literal iron nail. Is this some kind of joke?" I picked up the small, unimpressive nail from the collection table. Holding it up to the light, I sighed. "Well, at least it's not a rusty nail. Maybe it'll come in handy... somehow."
With the Gacha done, I stored my rewards and left the Room of Requirement. It was time for breakfast—and the culmination of my plan to unmask Lockhart for the fraud he truly was.
---
The Great Hall was bustling with the usual morning chatter. Students from every house filled the long tables, piling their plates with toast, eggs, and sausages. I made my way to the Gryffindor table, my eyes scanning for any sign of the day's edition of the Daily Prophet.
Just as I took a seat, a flurry of owls swooped in, delivering newspapers and letters to eager hands. My gaze locked onto Hermione, who had just unfolded Harry's copy of the Daily Prophet. As her eyes scanned the front page, her expression shifted from curiosity to shock.
"Oh my God," she whispered, holding the paper up for Harry and Ron to see. "Look at this!"
Curious, I leaned over, pretending to be nonchalant. But inside, I was grinning like the Cheshire Cat.
The headline read: "Gilderoy Lockhart: The Truth Behind the Façade". Beneath it was a subheading: "A Fraudulent Career Exposed—Stolen Stories and False Feats".
The article, written by none other than Rita Skeeter, detailed the results of "James Moriarty's" investigation. It included interviews with the real heroes of the adventures Lockhart had claimed as his own, as well as a thorough analysis of the discrepancies in his published works. There were even photographs of those real heroes holding up proof of their exploits, juxtaposed with Lockhart's smiling book covers.
Harry's mouth hung open. "No way. He made all that up?"
"Apparently," Hermione said, her voice filled with equal parts disbelief and vindication. "This is... I can't believe we've been learning from someone like him."
Ron burst out laughing, nearly spilling his pumpkin juice. "I mean, it's not like he's been teaching us anything useful anyway. Serves him right!"
I allowed myself a small smirk. The hall was buzzing now, with students passing around copies of the paper and speculating about what this meant for Lockhart's future.
At the staff table, Lockhart sat frozen, his face pale as a ghost. His usual pompous smile was replaced by a twitching grimace. Professor McGonagall's lips were pressed into a thin line, her piercing gaze fixed on him. Even Dumbledore looked uncharacteristically stern, his twinkling eyes devoid of their usual mirth.
Unable to stand the scrutiny, Lockhart suddenly shot to his feet. "This is preposterous!" he bellowed, his voice cracking slightly. "These accusations are baseless! Lies! All of them!"
His outburst only added fuel to the fire. Whispers turned into outright laughter, and students began jeering.
"Sit down, Lockhart!" someone from the Hufflepuff table shouted.
"Yeah, tell us how you really defeated that banshee!" a Ravenclaw added mockingly.
Lockhart's face flushed a deep red, and he stumbled out of the hall, his robes billowing behind him. The doors slammed shut, leaving behind a sea of amused students and unimpressed professors.
I couldn't have asked for a better performance.
---
The rest of the day was filled with gossip and speculation about what would happen to Lockhart. During classes, his absence was glaringly obvious. By dinner, word had spread that he was holed up in his quarters, refusing to face anyone.
---Note
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