Harry Potter: I Get Stronger by Taking Loans - 190

Chapter 190: The Order of Merlin? The Boy Tom in the Diary

Passing Gilderoy Lockhart in the corridor, Leonardo pondered the details of the Order of Merlin.

The famous wizard Merlin had founded the Order of Merlin in the mid-11th century, the earliest magical organisation in the wizarding world. Merlin’s original goal was to help non-magical people. Any wizard who made significant contributions to the magical community could be awarded the Order of Merlin.

After many years of turmoil and peace, the Order itself eventually disbanded. But the Order of Merlin medal remained one of the highest honours in the wizarding world, awarded by the Wizengamot from the 15th century onward.

Leonardo considered the wizards who had recently received second and third class Order of Merlin medals—some of whom he knew personally.

Newt Scamander, for example, had earned his second-class medal for his groundbreaking work in magical creatures and magizoology. There was no wizard in the world who could challenge his authority in that field.

Lockhart’s third-class medal, meanwhile, was for his supposed bravery facing dark creatures and for the defensive methods he described in his books. The stories were not his own, but the methods were genuine and could be useful to others. It was the dissemination of these methods that earned him the award, since it could benefit the magical community.

Leonardo had written two essays—one on layered transfiguration, and another on transfiguring magical creatures. The first was an in-depth exploration of existing ideas, while the second genuinely opened new paths in transfiguration. Not everyone could master transfiguring magical creatures, but the layered principles described in the essay would help any wizard who could understand them to explore new directions. There was no doubt that this was a contribution to the magical world.

But he wasn’t sure how the Wizengamot judged and graded such contributions.

Dumbledore, after all, was the current Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot. Maybe he could ask him? When Leonardo had spoken to Dumbledore about awards, he had sensed something unsaid, as if Dumbledore had more to reveal.

If Leonardo could actually win an Order of Merlin—second or third class—it would instantly boost his reputation several levels. The resulting fame would also drive sales of his alchemical and potion products. He would need to arrange a trip off campus soon to check on his shops and update his inventory. With the Floo Network and Apparition, a weekend getaway would be easy.

Leonardo knew that winning awards in transfiguration journals would make him famous within that niche. But the Order of Merlin was a different story—it would be a sensation across the entire magical world. The rewards that came with it would be immense.

As for the first-class medal, that was out of reach. Leonardo compared himself to previous recipients and found a pattern: the first class was usually reserved for those who saved many lives or resolved a major crisis in the magical world.

Dumbledore’s medal was for defeating the dark wizard Gellert Grindelwald. Others, like Orabella Nutley, had used repair spells to fix the Colosseum after a broom race, preventing Muggle exposure. Tilly Tock and her family had saved many Muggles during the Ilfracombe incident in 1932.

Sometimes, first-class medals were awarded posthumously, often for smaller but meaningful acts. For example, Norvel Twonk was awarded one after his death for saving a Muggle child from a manticore.

There were also “exceptions” who followed tradition: every retiring Minister for Magic awarded themselves a first-class medal.

In summary, to win a first-class Order of Merlin while still alive, one either had to resolve a major crisis or become Minister for Magic. But how often did such crises arise?

Would he have to wait until Voldemort returned, then defeat him in front of the world? Leonardo chuckled and shook his head, then decided to visit the Weasley twins to check on their latest sales.

Suddenly, a thought struck him—a snippet of Lockhart’s own words:

“…Controlling a monster to cause chaos… a real, visible adventure… saving a group of young witches and wizards, saving the future and hope of the magical world…”

Leonardo stopped and glanced back at Lockhart’s retreating figure. Ah, yes, that was exactly what Lockhart had said.

…

Soon, October arrived. The castle was filled with cold, damp air, and many students and teachers caught colds. Sneezing and coughing echoed through the halls.

But Madam Pomfrey quickly responded by brewing a cold potion that worked wonders, though it caused the ears of those who took it to steam for several hours. The sneezing and coughing stopped, replaced by whistling sounds like train whistles. Hogwarts became a misty, fantastical place, fitting for a magical castle.

Leonardo entered the castle and saw many students with steam pouring from their ears. Some were used to it, even finding it amusing, shaking their heads and laughing. Others felt embarrassed, hiding their faces behind books or sleeves, or wrapping scarves around their heads.

Leonardo wondered if he should develop a cold potion with no such obvious side effects. It wouldn’t be hard, and it would be a seasonal product, useful mainly in autumn and winter.

“Phew, it’s been raining so much lately,” Harry said, lifting his wrist to show Leonardo a blue bracelet. “Thank goodness for your water-repellent charm bracelet, or we’d be soaked and covered in mud after Quidditch practice!”

Leonardo glanced at Harry’s bracelet and smiled to himself. Of course, the rain was frequent. Aether, the thunderbird he’d brought back from Arizona, loved flying in the open sky, and his presence stirred up storms in Britain’s already damp weather.

Leonardo had designed the water-repellent charm bracelet to help Quidditch players train in the rain, shielding them from water and dirt with a layer of magic. Not only did the Quidditch teams buy them, but many other students did too. After all, it was cheap and convenient—much easier than carrying an umbrella or casting a spell every time.

More and more students discovered the comfort and convenience of Leonardo’s alchemical tools and potions, and they sincerely praised the boy who brought them all to Hogwarts. Loyalty!

“Honestly, thanks to Leonardo’s inventions, my training sessions with the team have been much easier,” Malfoy said, smirking.

Harry groaned. Ever since Flint had been put in detention and Quidditch practice stopped, Malfoy had somehow started leading the Slytherin team in training. Since then, every time they met, Malfoy could not resist bragging about it at least three or five times.

“Malfoy, is your captain’s detention still not over?” Harry asked, exasperated.

Draco laughed and shrugged, pretending to be disappointed. “Who knows? Professor Snape’s got plenty of toads, rats, and bats to deal with.”

…

Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor’s office.

Lockhart sat at his desk, the old diary spread before him. Now and then, he wrote in the diary with his flashy peacock-feather quill, muttering to himself:

“That monster… it really won’t kill anyone, right?”

“I just want a big headline, not a trip to Azkaban. That’s not exactly something to brag about…”

“That beast looks scary. It’s huge—could it eat people?”

He wrote these worries and fears in the diary. Strangely, his words vanished as soon as he finished, as if the paper swallowed them. Within seconds, new words appeared:

“That’s a basilisk. With my method, you can control it completely.”

“Don’t worry. As long as you don’t look into the basilisk’s eyes, the worst that can happen is petrification, which is easily cured. At worst, you’ll spend a few months in bed.”

“And no one will know you’re behind it all. The world will remember Gilderoy Lockhart as the hero who tamed the basilisk, saved Hogwarts, protected young witches and wizards, and became a legend in the magical world!”

“Praise, adoration, honour, fame… everything you could want.”

Lockhart read the words, breathing faster, but still hesitated:

“Tom, I’m still worried…”

As Lockhart’s words faded, he did not notice that tiny threads of life force and soul energy were being drawn from his body, vanishing along with the ink into the surface of the paper. They travelled deep into the diary.

Inside was a wide, circular room filled with strange silver instruments, walls covered with empty picture frames, and a Sorting Hat carelessly placed on a shelf. Anyone familiar with Hogwarts would be surprised by the similarity to the Headmaster’s office, though the details were different from Dumbledore’s current room.

In a large chair, a sixteen- or seventeen-year-old boy lounged lazily. His hair was jet black, his eyes dark, his face pale, but his features were blurred. Before him lay a diary, looking new, as if just put into use. Lines of ink appeared on the page—Lockhart’s handwriting.

The boy called Tom sniffed the air.

“The life force and soul energy are still too weak.”

His features sharpened a little as he read the diary, then he sneered.

“Cowardly, greedy, ignorant. I can’t decide if he’s easy to fool or not.”

Tom already understood Lockhart’s desires: fame, a real, visible adventure. Under Tom’s guidance, Lockhart had quickly agreed to use the basilisk to create a crisis. But when he actually entered the Chamber and saw the basilisk, he panicked. He hesitated, debating whether to release the basilisk, whether to create chaos and fear, whether to defeat it for glory and fame…

Lockhart had been following Tom’s instructions, and in his open, trusting state, Tom could steal more life and soul from him. But now, Lockhart’s hesitation slowed progress.

Tom needed more life and soul energy to strengthen himself. The “Tom” in the diary was only a fragment of the original Tom Riddle’s soul, separated when he was sixteen and fused with the diary to become a Horcrux. If he absorbed enough life and soul, he could complete himself and gain a new body. Then, the boy Tom Riddle could return to the world, and perhaps join with his original self…

“No,” Tom thought. “I am me. I’ll wait and see. I don’t know how my original self is now—has he reached the pinnacle of magic, become Headmaster of Hogwarts, ruled the magical world?”

Tom wrote in the diary:

“Gilderoy, my friend, if you’re still not sure, we can start with animal experiments. Let’s test whether the basilisk really obeys your command.”

The words vanished as quickly as they appeared. For the plan to work, Tom would make the basilisk cooperate with Lockhart’s “demonstrations.” But once he absorbed enough life and soul…

“Then the show will become real. If many young witches and wizards die at Hogwarts, Dumbledore will be forced from his Headmaster’s seat!”

Tom remembered how Dumbledore had lit a fire with his most cherished cabinet when he came to the orphanage. The flames had been fierce, beautiful, unforgettable. He remembered how well he had behaved at school, loved by teachers and students alike, yet Dumbledore alone had treated him like a thief.

When Tom learned from Lockhart that Dumbledore was now Headmaster of Hogwarts, his hatred and anger flared again.

“That narrow-minded man, who never understood my talent—how dare he be Headmaster? He only uses magic and authority to force others to accept his will, just as he did back then!”

Tom would get a new body and drive Dumbledore from Hogwarts. He would make Lockhart obey his commands, offering life and soul piece by piece.

Seeing the words appear in the diary, Lockhart gripped his peacock-feather quill, still uneasy:

“Animal experiments? The students have plenty of pets, and there’s that cat wandering around the school… Hmph. What kind of magical school allows such a filthy stray?”