Sullivan watched Lockhart strut away and suddenly understood exactly how Snape had felt every time Sullivan made him say "Ravenclaw's golden boy." The secondhand embarrassment was brutal.
He shook his head, shoved the memory aside, and headed straight for Snape's office. The place still looked like a damn crypt. "Snape, why the hell do you keep your office this gloomy? You're not a Death Eater."
"Say what you came to say and get out," Snape snapped without looking up. "I have to finish these ingredients before the Opening Ceremony tonight."
"How's the research going on those potions we got from the Hopping Pot?"
Snape finally lifted his head, expression deadly serious. "I'll say this once: thank Merlin we never drank them. They contain something that corrodes the soul. Extremely difficult to neutralize."
"Corrodes the soul? How bad are we talking?" Sullivan's interest spiked instantly.
"Bad enough that I still don't know how it was even extracted or brewed. Raw magic can suppress it, but it won't destroy or remove it. I already tested with Dumbledore. Still no luck."
Snape's eyes grew darker. Sullivan felt a rush of excitement. If Dumbledore couldn't fix it, Voldemort's shattered soul probably couldn't either. That made the potion a potential game-changer.
"Snape, you know Voldemort's current state. You need to pour everything into this research."
"No shit," Snape muttered, already back to his cauldron.
"By the way, you still in touch with any Death Eaters who didn't end up in Azkaban?" Sullivan finally got to the real reason he was here.
Snape looked up and stared coldly. "What exactly are you asking?"
Sullivan raised both hands. "Relax. I got a tip. Someone in a black robe and mask paid Lucius Malfoy a visit and—"
He laid out everything Dobby had told him. Snape's face tightened the moment he heard the details.
"Besides Lucius, I haven't kept contact with the others," Snape said. "Death Eater meetings were always masked. The only ones I know for sure never went to Azkaban are Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle."
"If the man in black was sent by Voldemort, it sure as hell wasn't Crabbe or Goyle. Those two are good in a fight but dumb as their sons. Voldemort never gives them anything this delicate."
Sullivan snorted. So Crabbe and Goyle were basically Voldemort's muscle. No wonder their families scraped into the Sacred Twenty-Eight.
"What do you actually know about the Chamber of Secrets?" Sullivan asked, shifting focus.
Snape gave a short, dismissive laugh. "It's a legend. No one's ever opened it. Even if it exists, I doubt Slytherin left anything truly monstrous inside."
Sullivan kept his thoughts to himself. Snape clearly didn't know much. Still, the comment jogged his memory—Voldemort had opened the Chamber once before. Two students had died.
Ginny wouldn't know anything useful, but Hagrid might. Sullivan checked the time. Too late now. He'd have to wait until after the ceremony.
Once Snape finished his work, the two of them walked to the Great Hall together. All the returning students were already seated. Most of the professors' chairs were filled.
Thanks to Sullivan's earlier help, Harry and Ron were safe and sound at the Gryffindor table, chatting nonstop with Hermione.
Lockhart spotted them immediately and waved like an overexcited golden retriever. "Su! Snape! Over here! Sit with me!"
Sullivan scanned the room fast. Lockhart had left exactly two empty seats on either side of himself. No way in hell was Sullivan getting stuck in the middle of that.
He spotted an open chair beside Professor Flitwick and claimed it before anyone else could move.
That left only the two seats next to Lockhart. Snape shot Sullivan a murderous glare, then dropped into the chair beside the blond peacock with the expression of a man walking to the gallows.
Lockhart launched into a nonstop monologue about his latest "adventures." Snape didn't react once.
A minute later Sullivan's phone buzzed.
Snape: You bastard.
Dumbledore swept into the Hall and took his place at the head table. He nodded to Professor McGonagall. The Opening Ceremony began.
The Sorting went exactly as usual. Sullivan spotted Luna, Ginny, and that camera-obsessed kid Colin Creevey among the new first-years.
When the last student was sorted, Dumbledore stood. "Another year begins. We welcome our new students and trust you will fill your minds with magic."
He smiled warmly. "We also have a new professor. Please join me in welcoming this year's Defense Against the Dark Arts instructor—Gilderoy Lockhart!"
The Hall erupted in thunderous applause. Lockhart rose, flashing his trademark million-galleon smile, and opened his mouth.
Sullivan already felt his soul trying to leave his body.