Chapter 26: The Chamber of Secrets

Victoria's hand darted towards her waist, but Lockhart was faster. Quick as a flash, his wand was pointing directly at her.

"Stop right there!"

She froze in place, cursing herself for not keeping a proper lookout. They'd been so stupid…

"Now," Lockhart said, "very slowly, I want you to take your wands—not by the handle!—and throw them to me."

They did as he asked, their wands clattering to the floor at Lockhart's feet. Carefully, keeping his wand tracked on them, he crouched down and slipped the wands into one of his robe pockets.

"I... don't believe it!" Susan cried, her voice hurt and confused. "It's... you? You're the Heir of Slytherin?"

Lockhart chuckled. "What a silly girl you are! There's no such thing as the Heir of Slytherin, my dear. There never was. But it will make an excellent story, don't you think? A worthy follow-up to Break with a Banshee. All we need now is a Chamber of Secrets." He flourished his wand dramatically. "Alohomora!"

A corner of the rug flopped over. Lockhart sighed.

"I knew it," Victoria said, her words dripping with bitterness. "I knew you were a fraud."

Lockhart's expression hardened. "I wouldn't expect you to understand. Now, roll back the rug. Slowly. I'm warning you—my Banishing Charm works just fine."

It took the two of them to lift the edge of the heavy rug, revealing a wooden trapdoor set into the floor of the tent. Victoria eyed it nervously, her sense of trepidation growing. She did not like where this was going, but what could she do? Her brain had betrayed her, all her clever ideas abandoning her when she needed them the most.

Lockhart waved his hand at the trapdoor. "Open it."

Reluctantly, they pulled on a metal ring to swing the trapdoor open. It led to a long stone shaft, the bottom too dark to make out, with a ladder on one side.

"In you go," Lockhart said.

Susan began to cry. Her sobs echoed through the shaft as they climbed down the ladder, mixing with the sound of dripping water below. Victoria's eyes remained dry: she was just numb, unable to move past her disbelief. Was this really happening? It felt like some kind of sick joke.

"I'm so sorry," Susan gasped between sobs. "This is all my fault."

"Don't say that," Victoria said, but a deep, bitter part of her couldn't help but agree. If only Susan had listened to her, they would have been at a party right now. "It's no one's fault. We couldn't have known about Lockhart."

"But you told me!" Susan cried. "You told me about him and I didn't listen, and now look where we are! And all because I dragged you here!"

Victoria couldn't think of anything to say to that. She settled for a lie. "We'll get out of it, you'll see. Just like the troll and the boggart."

Her words seemed to calm Susan, whose sobs turned into sniffs as her crying diminished. Victoria only wished she could have believed it herself.

The Chamber of Secrets awaited at the bottom of the ladder. They were standing at the end of a long, rocky tunnel; the ceiling high above was littered with stalactites, and statues of giant spiders leaned out of the walls on either side like gargoyles. The many eyes of each spider were made from an array of gems, each one glittering with a trapped fairy, and the silver light cast the tunnel in an ethereal, otherworldly glow.

Beyond the tunnel, darkness loomed.

Lockhart came down the ladder behind them. "It wasn't easy getting all this made discreetly, let me tell you." He spoke with obvious pride, as if he were taking them on a backstage tour. "It's a pity about the damp, but perhaps it lends a certain air of authenticity... the place is supposed to be ancient, after all. But come on, the finale happens in the chamber proper."

Finale.

Something about that word finally broke through Victoria's numbness; she turned and ran, aiming for the ladder, but she only managed a few steps. An invisible force grabbed her and launched her through the air—she screamed as she sailed the full length of the tunnel, her limbs flailing, before hurtling upwards into an enormous, dome-like cavern.

She landed with a hard slap on a raised stone platform.

Clutching her right knee in pain, it took Victoria a moment to recover her bearings. She was atop a mound at the centre of the cavern, the stone platform surrounded on all sides by a ring of statues, their eyes providing just enough light for Victoria to realise she was sitting on an altar. Her panic rising, she moved to jump off, but chains came alive around her and latched shut around her wrists and ankles, tying her in place no matter how hard she struggled.

"Let me go!" she cried, pulling at the chains with all her strength, so hard that she thought she'd tear her arm off. But the chains wouldn't budge. "I'm not your… sacrifice!"

"Tut tut. None of that, now," Lockhart said, climbing the stairs towards the altar with Susan at wand-point. Her face red and splotchy, but she wasn't crying anymore. "Now, give me a moment to think, if you will. Miss Bones here is a complication, but I'm sure we can figure something out." He looked around at the statues, but shook his head. "No, too far away. We want the two of you together." He gestured at Susan with his wand. "Next to the altar, now. That way you can help each other, see?"

Susan sniffed and shuffled towards Victoria. The moment she got close, a chain reached out and clamped onto her wrists, making her gasp at the touch of cold metal.

"Yes, that works nicely," Lockhart said, nodding to himself. "It'll be a much more dynamic scene with Susan's legs free."

Another sob escaped Susan's throat, tears threatening to fall once more.

"Don't worry, Susan," Victoria said, trying to lift her spirits, though her own voice trembled when she spoke. "Snape will save us, just you see."

Lockhart laughed. "Severus? I think not. You see, he's shown an annoying tendency to interfere in the past, so I've arranged to keep him busy this time." He tapped his finger to his temple. "Meticulous planning, girls, that's the secret to success. Well, that and a choice Confundus Charm. As we speak, young Mr Weasley is attempting to slay dear Severus. I dare say he's going to be distracted for quite some time."

Victoria's heart sank. Snape had been their one hope. Who else was going to save them—Hagrid?

"Now," Lockhart continued, "let's prepare for the climax, shall we?"

He reached behind the altar and Victoria's stomach tightened in fear, her arms wobbling like jelly. Was this it? It was too soon; she wasn't ready.

"Leave her alone!" Susan cried, her chains jangling as she struggled to break free. But when Lockhart stood back up, he was not weilding a knife or some other gruesome tool of ritual sacrifice. He was carrying a makeup bag.

Lockhart winked at them. "Not what you thought? Showbusiness isn't all it's cracked up to be, ladies. We'll need you looking your best for the play, if we want to keep the customers happy."

And then, with a surprisingly expert touch, he began applying makeup to Victoria's face. She tried to turn away as he powdered her cheeks—anything to deny him—but he had the strength of a grown man and his grip on her jaw was firm.

Strangely, the everyday familiarity of makeup helped to calm her panicked mind. There was nothing they could do to stop Lockhart, that much was clear. But... perhaps they could slow him down. If they could just keep him talking for long enough, maybe it would give Snape time to realise they were missing.

"So this is how you do it, is it?" she asked through gritted teeth. "All your books. It's all just… fake?"

"You make it sound so simple," Lockhart said. "It's anything but, I assure you. Not many wizards could cast the magic required to manipulate memories."

"You just... change the bits of the memories that don't fit?" Susan asked. Had she cottoned on to Victoria's idea? That was good—she was recovering from the shock, beginning to put things together. "Why bother with all this, then?"

Lockhart moved on to apply some eyeshadow. "There are limits," he said, his voice conversational. As always, he was quite happy to talk about himself. "That's why it takes careful planning. You can't make a memory from scratch, you know!"

His words reminded Victoria of a moment from Break with a Banshee—a plot hole that she'd never been satisfied with. "So that's why you went to Detective Blaggard's house first. You knew he was the banshee all along—you were in on it from the start."

"And goodness me, what an ordeal that was," Lockhart said with a sigh. "Banshees have terrible bad breath, did you know? Not to mention their poor impulse control. I'll never work with them again, not after Bandon."

"But you betrayed the banshee in the end, didn't you?" Susan said, just as Victoria realised the same thing. It was all beginning to make sense. "That's why she said you wouldn't get away with it, just before you banished her off the tower."

Lockhart grimaced. "A most inconvenient remark. I couldn't get rid of it, no matter how many Obliviation Charms I cast."

And just like that, the beginnings of an idea formed in Victoria's mind. Could they ruin Lockhart's scene, just like the banshee had? If they messed it up badly enough, perhaps he would be forced to start the whole thing again, buying them more time.

Having finished with Victoria's eyeshadow, Lockhart moved over to start on Susan. It was almost gentle, the way he ran a porous stone over her face, cleaning up the tear tracks.

Susan glared at him as he worked. "My Auntie's going to catch you," she said, her eyes full of disgust. "I hope you like Dementors."

"Oh, but such fire!" Lockhart exclaimed. "Miss Bones, I didn't know you had it in you. That's good—it'll make for a better scene. But I wouldn't worry about the Ministry... they'll get their culprit."

"Hagrid," Victoria said, figuring it out. "He's your banshee this time."

Lockhart nodded. "Just so. Of course, I had no idea of his history until Mr Obscurus told me. That's when all the pieces began to fit together."

"Your publisher knows?" Victoria asked incredulously. "And helps you?"

"But of course!" He swept his arm to gesture at the chamber. "You hardly thought I could do this all on my own, did you? The Lockhart brand takes far more than one wizard to maintain. We're making a bestseller here, after all. If you're lucky, we may even break twenty thousand copies!"

She stared at him in disbelief. In the end, all this was about… money? "I can't believe you've hurt all those people just to sell some books. You almost killed Justin!"

Lockhart sniffed. "A very rude boy, that one, always laughing in my classes. I put a lot of effort into those lessons, you know."

"You tried to kill Justin… because he laughed at you?"

Victoria was stunned. In all the many hours the Slytherins had spent speculating as to the Heir's plans, not once had they considered the possibility that the choice of victim was motivated by sheer wounded pride.

"And what about Colin?" Susan asked. "Did he laugh at you too?"

Lockhart began to unravel her red hair from its plait, using his fingers to shake it out. "That blasted boy and his camera. He was undercutting my prices with his knock-off merchandise; I just couldn't let it continue."

For a moment, Victoria and Susan were just shocked into silence. It was all so incredibly petty.

"And me?" Victoria said, thinking back to her poisoning. "What did I do to offend you?"

"Oh, you were quite charming," Lockhart said mildly. He gave her a look of almost fatherly pride. "You would have made quite the celebrity. But I'm afraid every good story needs a damsel in distress."

Victoria glowered at him. "Normally they get saved."

Lockhart returned her glare an amused look. "Ah, but the critics prefer tragedies, I'm afraid." He finished with Susan's makeup. "There we go. Now, you'll need your wands for the scene, else things will be over rather quickly."

He returned to Victoria and slipped her wand into the loop at the waist of her robe. It was just out of reach—the chains wouldn't let her get to it.

"Don't worry," Lockhart said, when he saw her straining against the chain. "Susan here should be able to help you. Once she has her own wand, of course." He tossed Susan's wand to the stone floor; she dove for it, but it too was just beyond reach, her fingers barely able to brush the handle.

As Susan struggled to get purchase on her wand, Lockhart moved over to the nearest statue, from which a further chain hung, and tied himself up. "Here we go, ladies. Do try to put on a decent show." He took a deep breath. "HAGRID!" he bellowed, "YOU'LL NEVER GET AWAY WITH THIS!"

His words echoed through the cavern, and for a moment they were met only with silence. But then, high above them, somewhere in the darkness of the ceiling, came a rapid, rattling series of clicking sounds.

Victoria's heart froze. She recognised those sounds—she'd heard them before, during her detention in the Forbidden Forest… before Lockhart had led her and Hagrid away. Realisation dawned. He hadn't been running away, he'd been trying to prevent them from discovering his secret.

The clicking got closer, travelling across the ceiling rapidly. It was undoubtedly the sound of an acromantula. Just like that, all clever thoughts of ruining Lockhart's scene vanished. They'd be lucky to survive five minutes.

"Susan!" Victoria cried. "Your wand! Hurry up!"

But Susan's wand was still out of reach, and each time her fingers brushed against the handle, they pushed it further away.

"I can't reach it!" Susan called, a wail in her voice. The acromantula was now close enough that they could hear the scuttle of its legs across the stalactites.

"Then use mine!" Victoria shouted, twisting to present her wand to Susan, who rushed to grab it.

Susan pointed the wand at the shackle on her left wrist. "Alohomora!" she said, but nothing happened, the alien wand fighting against her.

Victoria moved to snatch her wand back, straining against her chains. "Give it here!"

Susan shoved the wand into Victoria's hand.

"Alohomora!" she cried, doing her best to point the wand at Susan's wrists. The shackles popped open—just as a huge black shadow dropped from the ceiling. "Look out!"

Susan dived out of the way, narrowly dodging the spear-like thrust of a giant spider's leg, the power of its impact cracking the rock floor. The sight of the spider banished all rational thought, and Victoria could only scream as it picked itself up—it was massive, the size of a pony, and hideous besides, all black hair and legs, clicking pincers and dark, alien eyes. It reared up on its hind legs, as if startled by her scream, and then it lunged towards her.

"Shoo!" Susan cried, having finally found her wand, and the spider froze.

"That's it, Susan!" Lockhart cried. "Just like I taught you!"

For one insane moment, Victoria thought that the spell had worked. But her hopes were quickly dashed: with a frenzy of angry clicking, the spider wheeled to face Susan.

"Victoria!" Susan cried. "Help!"

"Alohomora!"

The chains fell away—she was free. The spider reared to strike at Susan; Victoria's wand lashed out, her mind falling by reflex into a transfigurative frame, and stone spikes shot up from the ground. The stone broke where it impacted impacted the spider's chitinous underside, unable to pierce its armour, but the spider shrieked as it was lifted into the air by the spikes, its legs flailing for purchase.

Susan seized the opportunity to scramble away. "This way!" she shouted, running for the stairs leading down from the mound, and Victoria rolled off the altar to follow. Her right knee twinged with pain the moment she put weight on it, but she grit her teeth and forced herself to ignore the pain.

"Save yourself, girls!" Lockhart called. "Leave Hagrid's beast to me!"

It didn't take long for the scuttling of legs to come racing down the stairs behind them.

"Jump!" Victoria called, and the two of them leapt forward, taking the final flight of stairs at all once, landing so hard that they bowled forwards onto the rocky floor.

Susan glanced back; her eyes widened. "Move!"

Instinctively, Victoria rolled to the side; the thump of the spider's impact juddered through the floor, landing right where they had lain a moment before, close enough to smell its disgusting, rotten scent, like eggs gone bad.

It was too close. The spider lashed out with one of its legs; the claw caught Victoria's robe, pinning her to the floor just as she tried to scurry away. Another leg swung downwards, this one aiming for her chest—

"Percussio!"

A deafening bang rang out, so loud that it left a ringing in Victoria's ears, and the spider recoiled at the noise, scuttling back up the stairs like a startled dog.

"It doesn't like noise!" Victoria said, and she whipped her wand in a sharp flick, mirroring Susan's spell. "Percussio!"

Bang! Bang! Bang!

They cast the spell again and again, filling the cavern with echoes of thunder, but the spider quickly realised that the sound posed no real threat. After a moment of disorientation, its many-eyed gaze once more landed on the girls at the bottom of the stairs.

"Run!" Victoria shouted, turning to flee. "The ladder!"

They sprinted back into the tunnel, flying past the statues of spiders as they made for the shaft up to Lockhart's tent. Susan was pulling ahead, Victoria's knee holding her back as she hobbled behind. She glanced over her shoulder, expecting to see the spider hot on her heels—but there was nothing there.

"No!" Susan cried, and Victoria snapped back around to see the spider hanging from the ceiling, descending a line of silk and coming to land directly between them and the way out.

Their dash for the exit faltered. They were trapped.

"What now?" Susan asked.

Victoria glanced back. "This way," she said, giving Susan's arm a yank. "Come on, maybe there's another way out."

They ran back towards the stairs, aiming not to ascend the mound but to go around it, hoping against hope that the dark edges of the cavern concealed an exit. The spider charged after them, its enormous form picking up momentum like the Hogwarts Express.

"It's catching up!" Susan cried.

Without breaking her stride, Victoria jabbed her wand towards the ceiling, the stone stalactites transforming to ice; another flick and the ice began crashing down like spears, each one breaking off the ceiling with an ear-splitting crack. The spider shrieked—was it hurt, or only angry?—but Victoria didn't dare look behind.

Her magic bought them a few precious seconds. They reached the end of the tunnel, where it opened out onto the cavern, and swerved to the right, making sure to keep close to the cavern's wall.

"Lumos!" Victoria said, illuminating the way ahead. The light revealed little but rock: there were no secret tunnels leading away from the cavern, no ladders that might take them to hidden exits. Worse, the ground around the edge was so uneven that it was impossible to run through, forcing them to scramble between potholes and tall stalagmites sprouting out of the ground.

Lockhart's voice echoed down from the top of the mound. "I'm free! Hold on girls, I'm coming!"

Susan pulled Victoria up a tall, flat boulder, her dress robe tearing as it got caught on a jagged piece of rock. "There's nothing here! The only way out's on the other side of the spider!"

Victoria looked around in dismay, taking advantage of their elevated position. Susan was right: so far as she could see, the rock wall just curved around the cavern, an unbroken, impenetrable barrier. But there had to be another way. Lockhart had managed to create a route down here, hadn't he?

"If there's no way out, we'll just have to make one," Victoria said, the beginning of an idea bubbling at the back of her mind. "I'll need time to work, though."

Time was the one thing they didn't have. Lockhart was descending the stairs, casual as you please, and then the spider burst out from the tunnel. Its armour was cracked where the ice had struck it from above, but it was largely unharmed, and, judging by the spitting, hissing sounds it was making, angrier than ever.

"One minute," Victoria said, looking Susan in the eyes, "that's all I need."

Susan levelled her wand at the spider, which was trying get over a large boulder, too large to fit through the gap which the girls had slipped through. "I'll try. Locomotor Wibbly!"

Victoria turned away from the spider to face the cavern wall, trying to block out the sounds of Susan casting jinx after jinx. This would need to be her best transfiguration to date. Her wand moved like an artist's brush, drawing a tall archway in the wall, the stone of the outline transforming into a wooden frame.

"Furnunculus!"

A slow, deliberate twist of her wand filled the archway with slats of wood.

"It's not working!" Susan cried. "Tarantallegra! Everything's just bouncing off!"

Victoria's wand moved faster—a metal handle grew out of the wooden surface. All she needed now were some hinges.

"Victoria!"

She risked a glance to the side; the sight almost made her freeze in fear. The spider was almost upon them, attempting to squeeze through a narrow gap between two stalagmites—once it was through, there would be nothing to stop it. Lockhart was just behind, picking his way through the rocks carefully.

"I'm almost there," Victoria said. "You need something more powerful!"

"There's one spell," Susan said, her voice uncertain. "I heard Aunt Amelia talking about it when she thought I was in bed."

"Use it."

Susan's jaw set in a grim expression. Motes of green light began to gather around her wand, and the air filled with an heavy, alien sense of dread. It was a spell Victoria recognised: she'd seen it once before, in the hands of the Death Eater at Malfoy Manor.

Susan's wand thrust forwards. "Avada Kedavra!"

Green light flashed; there was a roaring sound, like an oncoming train; the spider shrieked, Victoria's ears ringing with its terrible cry of pain; and Susan was knocked off her feet, blood running from her nose, eyes and ears.

"That's not in the script!" Lockhart shouted. For the first time that evening he sounded angry.

Victoria finished the hinges.

"Alohomora!" she cried, jabbing her wand forcefully at the door she had transfigured, and it sprang open. A warm breeze came through the archway, and beyond was the forest in twilight.

The frantic scraping of claw on rock resumed behind them—whatever spell Susan had cast, it hadn't stopped the spider.

"Come on!" Victoria called, but Susan was still sitting on the floor, her expression dazed, not even moving to stem the flow of blood. Victoria was forced to grab her arm and haul her back to her feet. "We're almost there!"

She dragged Susan through the archway and out into the forest. It only took a second to realise where they were: the downhill section of the obstacle course, where the gorilla had shot cannonballs at them. It was now shrouded in darkness, but—yes, there!—firelight flickered at the base of the hill.

Bang!

She ducked on instinct, pulling Susan down with her; a moment later, the ground shook and she was showered with a hail of dirt. The gorilla was still there!

"Impervius!"

Susan still had that distant look on her face, so Victoria cast the spell on her too. "We gotta run now, okay?" she said, just as a ear-splitting crack echoed from within the chamber—the spider had got past the stalagmites. "Go!"

They pelted down the slope, ignoring the blast of the cannon, running so fast that a single misstep would send them tumbling head over heels. Victoria's right knee twinged every time her foot landed, the full force of her momentum bearing down on that one leg, but she grit her teeth and kept going. There were worse things than a duff knee.

The gorilla grunted as they approached, barely visible in the darkness but audibly working itself into a rage. Victoria prepared to confund it, but then she had a better idea.

"Oppugno!" she cried, casting the spell for the second time that day; the gorilla charged, but not at the girls—she had sent it up the slope, ready to do battle with Lockhart and the spider. She couldn't hear them yet, but surely they couldn't be too far behind.

They entered the final straight of the obstacle course, a direct path through the trees which opened out onto the cliff top. From there it would be a short loop back around to the teachers' tents. Relief filled Victoria.

"Susan, we're gonna make it!"

The run seemed to have revived Susan somewhat. She wiped her face with the sleeve of her robe, the fabric coming away stained red with blood. "I don't know if I can run any more," she said, and her voice was hollow. "I don't feel right…"

"Oh, but we can't stop now," Victoria said, "not when we're so close! Come on!"

She pulled Susan down the straight, not exactly running—it was very difficult to run and pull someone at the same time—but moving faster than a walk. As they made their way towards the cliff, Victoria kept her ears pricked for the first sounds of pursuit. Her body was tense, expecting the spider to turn the corner at any moment, but the forest remained oddly silent.

After what felt like an age, but couldn't have been more than thirty seconds, they passed the edge of the trees and came out onto the cliff top. There was a stiff, cool wind coming off the lake below, and the leaves of the forest rustled with its touch.

Victoria frowned and looked behind. There was still no sign of Lockhart or the spider. "Did we lose them?"

"Maybe," Susan said. She nodded towards the path that would lead them back to the teachers' tents. "Or maybe he's waiting for us up there."

That possibility hadn't occurred to Victoria. Suddenly the prospect of returning to camp wasn't so enticing. "How about sparks? Snape might see them…"

"Or Lockhart would," Susan said. "What if we hid in the forest? We've still got—"

Crack!

Suddenly, Lockhart was there, the spider looming behind him. With his arrival, all hope vanished. The spider looked even bigger out in the open, and Victoria immediately knew there was no point running. There weren't any rocks or narrow passages to slow it down now.

Lockhart regarded them with a look of open disappointment. "You ruined my ending. But no matter… it's nothing I can't fix in the second draft."

The only remaining course was to fight. Victoria raised her wand threateningly. "Stay back!"

"Don't be foolish," Lockhart said. "I may take some artistic licence with my skills, but I can still handle a second year. Time for your tragic end, Miss Potter."

"No, wait!"

But Lockhart was done talking. "Depulso!"

There was nothing she could do. His Banishing Charm caught her around the waist, yanking her back as if on a bungee cord—she was flying through the air, a scream escaping her lips—and then she was over the edge of the cliff, plummeting downwards towards the rocky shore of the lake. Her mind was frozen in horror, in disbelief, the drumbeat of nonononono echoing through her thoughts; it was a nightmare, she would wake up any moment—the ground hurtled towards her; she held out her arms, cringing back, the long scream still tearing from her throat, but the rocks stubbornly refused to move—

She slammed into the ground with the crunch of bone and the tearing of flesh. Her arms snapped like twigs, the unbelievable pain barely registering before her head struck with a crack, the force of it blinding—there was only pain, white hot, splitting her entire being, consuming every thought, every feeling. Time had stopped, a single moment of agony stretching out for an eternity.

Yet she endured. The escape of death did not come; the torment continued, and through the fog of pain, awareness returned. It came back slowly, like waking from a long, deep sleep, half-formed thoughts briefly surfacing above the pain before dissolving once more.

Alive… how?... can't move…

With thought came the world. Water was lapping at her broken body, coming and going with the sound of waves breaking on the shore. It took an almost herculean effort to open her eyes and take in her surroundings.

She was spread out across a series of uneven, jagged rocks. Above her was the tall cliff, and above that the full moon. The water which pooled around her was dark with blood, each fresh wave bringing clear water to be stained anew, and her wand bobbed in the water next to her, by some miracle unbroken.

It felt like every bone in her body was shattered, but she was alive. Never had she been more grateful for her magic; the Draught of Sparta had fortified her, granting her the resilience to survive the fall. She was going to be okay. Lockhart thought she was dead; he wouldn't be coming for her. All she had to do was wait, and eventually someone would find her…

A girl's screams rang out from high above. Her thoughts still sluggish, it took a while for the sounds to register in Victoria's mind, and longer still for her to deduce their origin.

Susan…

Waiting wasn't an option. Susan needed her help.

Her arm rose, trembling from the effort of it, and fresh pain shot through her wrist as bone ground against bone. It was too much—her arm flopped back down to the ground, her strength spent.

She couldn't do it. It hurt too much. She was too weak.

Unbidden, an image came to her mind: the vision she saw in the Mirror of Erised, of herself as a powerful witch. Dumbledore had told her to cast that dream aside, but even now that image called to her. Would the witch in the mirror have waited for rescue while her friend was in danger?

Gritting her teeth, pushing through the pain, she practically threw her arm across her body. Her hand landed on her wand, her fingers shaking as they closed around its handle. The feel of the familiar wood warmed her, and her fingers stopped trembling as they came to rest in the smooth groves left in the wood by many hours of use.

Another scream echoed through the night, longer and more terrible than the last.

Victoria looked up at the clifftop, hesitating. Lockhart was up there, and the spider. What could she do, really, to help Susan? Hadn't she already tried her best? No one would blame her if she were to give up now. Even if she somehow managed to scale the cliff, Lockhart would kill her for sure, and Susan would be in exactly the same situation.

A third scream came, before it was abruptly silenced.

Guilt filled Victoria. With a chest-heaving sob, she remembered her bedroom door at Susan's house, bearing her name on a plaque and carved with cats and snakes. Susan had done that, just for her. They were best friends—Victoria's only true friend. How could she leave her to Lockhart now? How could she ever look Mr Bones in the face if she did?

But she was afraid. She didn't want to die.

Bravery is fundamental.

That was what Dumbledore had said, but Victoria wasn't brave. Confrontation had never been her strong suit. It was so much easier to just keep everyone happy, to bend with the wind rather than stand against it. That was how she'd grown up. She wasn't like Dumbledore, or Tom; she simply lacked their strength of will.

Yet Dumbledore had said more.

Bravery is the purest expression of will; the decision to disregard risk and pain in the relentless pursuit of a goal.

Understanding came to her, the lesson she had been learning all year finally hitting home. Actions mattered. Willpower wasn't something you possessed, reserved for the special few who had been blessed with it. Willpower was something you did. Anyone could have it; all they needed to do was make the decision.

Victoria decided to rescue Susan.

Her grip on her wand tightened. She knew what she had to do.

"LOCOMOTOR ROCK!"

Finally, the goshawk answered. The spell exploded out from Victoria with a high, piercing cry that split the night, the sheer force of her magic shaking the shore, filling the air with the smell of ozone. The ground rumbled, and then she began to rise into the air, her broken body resting on a platform of floating rock. As she rose up the cliff, the spell tore at its rocky face, ripping out huge boulders which orbited her like planets around a star.

She crested the cliff's edge to find Lockhart standing with his wand to Susan's temple, the acromantula standing guard beside him.

"Leave her alone!" Victoria cried.

He spun to face her, his face shocked. "How on earth did you survive?" He shook his head. "You really are very annoying, did you know that? Now I'll have to modify Susan's memories all over again."

Anger filled Victoria at his admission. How dare he mess around with Susan's mind? How dare he stand there, casual as you please, not even showing a hint of regret?

She screamed with rage, thrusting her wand forwards; the floating boulders shot at Lockhart like cannonballs.

His wand snapped upwards. "Impervius!"

The giant rocks swerved just as they were about to hit him. One landed in the trees with the crash of splintering wood; another flew back off the cliff, plummeting down to the shore below; but the third swung to the left—right at the acromantula. It landed with an almighty crunch, squashing the spider beneath its enormous weight, and bits of viscera and chitin flew out in all directions from the force of the impact.

Lockhart gaped at the dead acromantula, stunned by its sudden demise, before turning back to Victoria. His face was hard; there was nothing casual about him now.

"An impressive spell," he said, his voice bitter. "But at the end of the day, big rocks are still just rocks. Finite!"

Abruptly, the floating platform fell onto the cliff top, dumping Victoria unceremoniously on the ground. Her body rolled like a ragdoll, each movement sending fresh waves of dizzying pain through her brain, and her vision whited out. It was all she could do to hold on to consciousness.

Lockhart loomed above her. "Time for your curtain call, Miss Potter."

She croaked in protest, lacking the strength to fight. He raised his wand.

Crack!

A woman appeared on the clifftop. She was a middle-aged witch with a square jaw, dressed in dark work robes and wearing a monocle over one eye. In one hand she carried her wand, in the other a brass bell.

"Lockhart?" the woman asked, frowning when she saw him. "Where's the Dark—"

She cut off as her eyes landed on Victoria and Susan. Her jaw set.

"Step away from my niece, Lockhart."

It took less than a second for Victoria to realise who the woman was: Amelia Bones, the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, and one of the most powerful witches in the country.

Susan's aunt had come to save them.

Lockhart was backing away from the girls. "Now, Amelia, this isn't what it looks like. We were just… yes, just engaging in a bit of advanced Defence Against the Dark Arts."

"He's... lying," Victoria said, her voice feeble. Dismay filled Lockhart's face. "He... tried… kill us."

Lockhart chuckled nervously. "So dramatic! Now, I dare say I gave the girls a bit of a fright… but it's all under control, I assure you."

Amelia Bones looked pointedly at Victoria. She must have been quite the sight, covered in blood and bruises, with bones sticking out of her skin in multiple places.

"Ah, yes. A most unfortunate accident," Lockhart said. "I was just about to fetch a healer, in fact. Why don't we take this to the Ministry, to discuss it with the Minister… your niece can corroborate my story, I'm sure."

But Amelia did not look persuaded in the slightest. "No need to take this to the Ministry, Lockhart," she said. "The Ministry is coming to me."

Victoria's skin prickled, her hair rising on end as the air filled with magic. The distinctive whip-like crack of apparition rang out—once, twice, thrice, each one coming from a different direction—and then there were too many to count, cracks echoing repeatedly throughout the forest like the climax of a fireworks display. There had to be hundreds of them, every one a qualified, adult wizard, the sounds of their arrival merging together into a roar which spread out across the slope, unrolling like thunder.

The Ministry had arrived.

Two figures appeared behind Amelia, the pair of them tall and stern faced. Victoria recognised one of them as Rufus Scrimgeour, the Head Auror, with his mane of tawny hair and piercing yellow eyes.

"The Minister is secure, Ma'am," Scrimgeour said. "Has the Dark Lord been sighted?"

"A false alarm, I suspect," Amelia said, not taking her eyes off Lockhart's rapidly paling face. "But a fortuitous one. Rufus, take this man to Azkaban. I think we've found our dark wizard."

A predatory look crossed Scrimgeour's face. "Lockhart, is it? How the mighty have fallen indeed. Well, come along now."

He clicked his fingers, not even bothering with a wand—in a flash, Lockhart was trussed up in ropes, levitating and gagged, his wand flying through the air into Scrimgeour's waiting hand. A moment later they disappeared with a crack.

Amelia strode across to where Susan was still kneeling. Her eyes were still glazed over in a trance. "Auror Thames, see to Potter. I'm taking Susan to St Mungo's."

The other Auror approached Victoria. He was a grizzled man, with long, dark hair and a bandolier of potions across the front of his robes.

"Well, shit," he said, looking her up and down. "That's a respectable scrape you got yourself in."

Victoria just groaned in response. Auror Thames laughed.

"Ah, you'll be fine. I've seen worse at Quidditch games. Still, this'll go a lot easier if you're unconscious."

She didn't even object. Red light flashed, and darkness greeted her.