"Oh."
Young Urquhart looked somewhat resistant. "Thank you for the suggestion, but no need. The Urquhart family cares more about the castle we have lived in for generations than some money."
Lockhart smiled and didn't say much, gesturing toward the translucent gray wolf running patter-patter over the bloody water. "Look, it has found the banshee."
He led the others, following right behind the gray wolf, and explained to everyone:
"In principle, a banshee does not actively harm people. On the contrary, the very earth where it resides tries its best to summon powers to protect it, and those powers inflict the damage."
"Sometimes they are easy to deal with—just some venomous snakes or crawling bugs. Other times, it's very difficult, because it might be a dragon."
"Such summoning of guardians happens every time the banshee is disturbed."
"There is a case like this in an underground cave in Northern Europe. Due to the year-after-year disturbances by reckless so-called heroes and greedy adventurers, the earth kept summoning the banshee's guardians. Today, that cave has essentially turned into a dragon's lair, with dozens of dragons living inside."
Following a gasp from the crowd, he kept a perfect smile and reassured everyone, "Don't worry, from the information we just observed, it's easy to tell there are no dragons here."
"Then what could it be?" Harry Potter mustered up his courage and asked.
To be honest, he was starting to feel a little less scared.
Just as Lockhart had taught them, to immerse themselves in 'fairy-tale romance', he now felt a surge of adventurous blood, which gave him tremendous courage.
He even started to feel a bit excited, gripping the wand in his hand, eager to try it out.
His performance in the previous fight against Draco hadn't been that good; he hoped there would be a moment for him to show his abilities later, and then he would let that hateful Draco and Snape see that he wasn't the 'brainless, foolish Potter' they always talked about!
"What could it be?"
Lockhart stopped in his tracks, chuckled softly, and looked back at Mr. Urquhart, whose expression was a mix of dark and light. "That depends on whether Mr. Urquhart has brought anything dangerous home recently."
Immediately, everyone turned in unison to look at young Urquhart.
Young Urquhart pressed his lips together and said nothing, obviously reluctant to talk about this matter.
Then Professor McGonagall looked at him with a stern gaze. "Child, normally I wouldn't make such a demand of you, but this time I brought two students with me, and I must ensure their safety. You must tell the truth!"
Young Urquhart looked somewhat helpless and could only sigh. "I got it from Mr. Malfoy. He heard that Arthur Weasley was planning to use his influence to search his house, so he had to urgently find a way to send out all of his family's dangerous collections."
Mr. Malfoy...
Draco's father, one of the leading figures of the Sacred Twenty-Eight pure-blood faction and the 'pure-blood supremacy' camp.
Arthur Weasley...
Ron's father, a low-key big shot in the Ministry of Magic who simultaneously possessed independent legislative and executive powers.
In an era when Voldemort's revolution had failed and most of his core members had been sent to Azkaban prison, the influence of the 'pure-blood supremacy' faction had dropped to a minimum. Correspondingly, the pro-Muggle factions of the Sacred Twenty-Eight pure-blood families—such as the Weasleys, the Longbottoms, the Prewetts, and the Abbotts—reached the peak of their influence and held greater power.
Arthur Weasley's reckless, almost humiliating demand to turn the Malfoy estate upside down was the most vivid footnote to the reality of this era.
For a moment, the atmosphere among everyone turned somewhat peculiar.
Professor Snape's lips curled into a sneer. "This period must be a feast for the major pure-blood families; everyone will find a way to get their hands on those precious collections from the Malfoy family."
Young Urquhart spread his hands. "Who's to say otherwise? They're all good things you can't normally buy with money."
These old pure-blood families had always cast covetous eyes on the so-called 'Sacred Twenty-Eight', and they were more than happy to see these twenty-eight families fail or even perish. Naturally, they wouldn't let slip this golden opportunity to carve up the Malfoy family's assets.
Yet, lacking the proper heritage meant just that.
Magical objects weren't something just anyone could use as a collection.
You had to have the capability.
The Urquhart family clearly lacked that capability. The items they acquired got out of hand, forcing the entire family to abandon the castle where they had lived for generations—a castle that symbolized their family glory.
Without a magical castle, no house-elves would come to seek attachment, and that was something other pure-blood families would look down upon.
The Weasley family, living in a haphazardly constructed shanty, was the most obvious example.
Even though Arthur possessed the clout to barge into other people's homes for random searches, the children of the family would still be looked down upon by others, and children like Ron, who weren't particularly outstanding themselves, would feel this all the more keenly.
Such things happened in the Muggle world as well, and they were far from uncommon.
"A book of magic, an antique gramophone, and a Swooping Evil."
Under everyone's gaze, young Urquhart had no choice but to name all the collections he had obtained.
"A Swooping Evil?!!" Professor McGonagall gasped, her expression turning fierce as she stared fixedly at young Urquhart. "Such a dangerous magical creature feeds only on human brains! Mr. Urquhart, you tell me, how do you normally feed this magical creature?!!"
"Oh! Merlin's pants!" Young Urquhart looked somewhat flustered, waving his hands vigorously. "No, I couldn't possibly do such an evil thing! That Swooping Evil is tightly bound by some golden spider silk. I confirmed it with Mr. Malfoy—it seems to have been sealed away by some powerful wizard!"
Draco and Harry exchanged a spine-chilling look. "Feeds on human brains?"
Subconsciously, they both inched closer to Professor Lockhart, the older brother figure who could give them a sense of security.
Yet Professor Lockhart wore a thoughtful expression.
"An antique gramophone?"
Professor Lockhart snapped out of his complex memories and clicked his tongue. "If I'm not mistaken, it's a modern invention of magical craftsmanship—a method of containing a certain phenomenon within the 'wonderful world of music', housing dark magical creatures inside magical items so they can communicate."
"The most famous result of this kind of thing is the 'Aladdin's Lamp' in fairy tales: putting a banshee into a gramophone. Tsk, what an interesting train of thought."
He raised his head to look at young Urquhart. "If this deduction is correct, the 'banshee' in your castle is most likely a fully matured dark magical creature—the most dangerous stage."
"I reckon that after you acquired this magical artifact, you didn't know how to use it at all, and simply treated it as an interesting gramophone?"
"Every time you listened to music, didn't you feel even a sliver of chill?"
Young Urquhart was completely dumbfounded.
He stammered and couldn't say a word.
What could he say? Should he tell them that every time their family proudly brought out the Malfoy collection to show off, the banquet always reached its liveliest and most thrilling peak, everyone was so excited, and who on earth would actually feel a chill?
"A mature 'banshee', plus a Swooping Evil sealed away without knowing how long it's been starved..."
Lockhart narrowed his eyes. "That'll cost extra!"
Actually, talking about extra money was quite easy; Mr. Urquhart truly dared not keep those dangerous items from the Malfoy family any longer, and he agreed to hand over both the magic books and the antique gramophone he had paid a heavy price to acquire from the Malfoys.
As long as the immediate crisis could be completely resolved.
Clearly, this wasn't difficult for Lockhart at all.
Waving his wand, he once again summoned a gray wolf out of a patch of mist, letting it search the castle. Soon, the gray wolf trotted over with a rat in its jaws.
"Professor McGonagall, your description isn't entirely accurate."
"Feeding a Swooping Evil doesn't necessarily require human brains. This magical creature, whose venom possesses the power of the Obliviator, doesn't like to consume brains—it likes to consume brains that contain human memories."
Lockhart gracefully waved the wand in his hand, pressing it against his temple, and effortlessly drew out a temporary strand of memory filled with chaotic thoughts, stuffing it into the rat's head.
"Look~"
He gestured to the squeaking, terrified rat in the gray wolf's mouth. "It now possesses human memories."
Stuffing human memories into an animal's head was no ordinary trick.
But for Lockhart, it couldn't be simpler.
And so, the group formed a circle, each keeping a wary eye on different corners, with the gray wolf holding the rat in its mouth leading the way at the front, slowly walking deeper into the castle.
"Later, when you use the Disarming Charm..."
Lockhart walked beside Harry and Draco's broomsticks. "Find a way to blast the Swooping Evil toward the rat. This shouldn't be hard for you; you should have encountered similar techniques during Quidditch team training. You need to know how to apply what you've learned."
He had created a decoy, true.
But to a Swooping Evil, human brains were clearly much tastier than a rat brain carrying a tiny scrap of human memory, and it would definitely be inclined to attack them first.
Harry and Draco nodded with solemn expressions.
Finally, as they walked into a dark corridor in the castle, a stray cat attracted by the blood and beneficial fungal mycelium spring rushed over, triggering everyone's startle reflex. At that moment, a dazzling blue light descended from above, diving straight toward Lockhart.
Just as expected!
Lockhart muttered to himself in astonishment. Sure enough, his own human brain, filled with countless memories, was definitely the most delicious food in the eyes of the Swooping Evil!
At this point, he could only place his hopes on his two carefully trained young assistants to play a useful role.
Facts proved that his efforts over this period had not been in vain.
The 'Boy Who Lived' was truly worthy of the name.
No matter how fast the Swooping Evil attacked, it wasn't as fast as a Golden Snitch, and its wingspan when spread was much larger than a Golden Snitch's by who knows how many times.
Accompanied by a hysterical roar—"Expelliarmus!"—that dazzling blue light was sent flying far away with a squeak.
This Swooping Evil was clearly starved to the limit and didn't fixate stubbornly on Lockhart, immediately dealing with the catch it could grab first.
Like a gorgeous, bewitching giant butterfly, it completely enveloped the gray wolf and the rat clutched in its jaws.
In an instant, the gray wolf, which possessed very little magical power to begin with, dissolved back into mist and vanished, while the rat let out a shrill scream as its skull was continuously torn apart by the creature.
The Swooping Evil's teeth were extremely sharp, capable of easily ripping through tough dragon hide and hard dragon scales, let alone an ordinary mouse in its jaws.
Finding the right angle, with a crisp crack of bone, the sound of its feeding was particularly eerie in the dark castle corridor.
Lockhart stopped Harry and Draco, who were eager to try, and once again drew a silver, thread-like substance from his head, resting it in the palm of his left hand. Cupping the memories in his palm, he slowly approached the Swooping Evil.
"Squeak~~"
The Swooping Evil alertly raised its bone-white, slender head, its cry somewhat sharp.
Lockhart slowly curled his fingers into a small cage shape, as if wanting to knead the memories back into a fist.
And so the Swooping Evil hesitated no longer, rushing rapidly toward his palm.
As it drew closer, its body rapidly shrank, going from a wingspan of a meter and a half to slightly smaller than a normal bat.
Upon entering his palm, it tightly wrapped around that strand of memory.
And Lockhart gently pressed his fingers against the socket of its little head.
The Swooping Evil, its eyes covered, struggled slightly for a moment, and after half a minute, finally quieted down.
Lockhart breathed a sigh of relief, pulled a small cloth bag from his pocket, and gently placed the creature inside. Seeing everyone's curious looks, he explained, "A Swooping Evil with its eyes covered easily falls asleep. It just ate two memories, which is enough for it to enter a state of deep sleep for quite a long time."
With that, he casually shoved the small cloth bag into his wizarding robes pocket.
Young Urquhart watched this scene, words teetering on his lips, but ultimately chose to close his mouth under Professor Snape's faintly mocking gaze.
This thing had been traded for at a heavy price!
Yet he was also well aware that even if Professor Lockhart explained it thoroughly, he could never manage to subdue this powerful Swooping Evil by copying him.
Even if his head understood, his hands wouldn't.
Even if his hands could, he wouldn't possess the sheer boldness and effortless dexterity to handle it.
Lacking that capability, no matter how powerful the monster was, it didn't belong to him, and forcibly keeping it would only bring a new round of disaster.
What else could he do? He could only follow the others and press on.
* * *
"027, my dear maiden~"
The appearance of the Swooping Evil as a guardian meant that the banshee was already nearby.
Everyone grew more and more cautious, finally arriving in front of a huge bronze door that looked as if it had been violently torn open.
There were many eerie marks of sharp teeth gnawing on it.
Of course, by now everyone knew that was caused by the Swooping Evil.
Peering cautiously inside, one could see rows of shelves laden with all kinds of magical artifacts, and some open chests filled to the brim with Galleons, emitting a charming luster under the illumination of the glowing stones embedded in the walls of the family vault.
Clearly, refusing to give up their ancestral home was one thing, but the family wealth that might be forced to abandon due to being occupied by dark magical creatures was the real reason Mr. Urquhart was so anxious to seek help everywhere.
If they truly couldn't find a way and had to abandon it, these family treasures would become the spoils for future heroes braving the monster's lair in the terrifying castle.
Becoming yet another interesting fairy tale.
This castle...
Lockhart had heard of it in his past life!
Scotland's Urquhart Castle, one of the largest ancient castles, which you could enter by buying a ticket. Its most interesting legend was that the lake overlooked by the castle was home to the Loch Ness Monster, one of the world's great 'unsolved mysteries'.
Combined with his understanding of the wizarding world from the memories in his mind, it was easy to figure out that this was once again a guardian summoned by the earth for the banshee, and it was highly likely to be a Kelpie.
Letting the Muggle world know about this news would clearly be a serious violation of the Statute of Secrecy, and the Ministry of Magic would definitely step in to obliterate the Muggles' memories—they did that all the time.
A flurry of chaotic thoughts surged through his mind, but Lockhart's gaze never lingered for a second as he rapidly surveyed every corner of the vault.
"It's going to get a bit dangerous ahead. Don't come close and startle it; I'll go in and handle it myself."
"Be careful of the surrounding environment and guard against any other potential guardians of the banshee."
Turning back, he whispered instructions to Harry and Draco to stick closely to Professor McGonagall and Professor Snape, before he cautiously made his way in that direction under everyone's watchful eyes.
By this time, the call of the earth, the sharp cries of birds, and the crawling sounds of snakes and bugs were growing increasingly distinct, and that faint, mournful singing voice also began to grow clear.
"Travellers passing by..."
"Please listen to my story..."
"Those cruel and greedy people persecuted me..."
"..."
"The earth, too, burns with righteous indignation for me..."
"Yet the wicked grow more and more triumphant, saying such evil scenes must be the work of evil witches..."
"..."
Aggrieved, tinged with suppressed sobs.
They say the crying baby gets the milk, and the banshee's aggrieved cries received a response from the earth, gushing forth springs full of vitality in hopes of resurrecting her, hoping to grant her the power to conquer everything.
Yet she only wept.
And so the earth's defense became endless.
A pure and simple nature gave birth to an extraordinary and eerie scene of dark fairy tales—this was the fun of a dark-cult fairy tale.
So how was one supposed to solve this problem?
The powerful wizard in his memories had used some illicit methods, snatching a handsome young man from the Muggle world to seduce the banshee.
Yes, it was just that simple.
Using a Muggle identity to draw close to the banshee was the only prerequisite for a safe approach.
A prince-like handsome fellow charming the daughter of the earth on the verge of life and death, whispering sweet nothings to make her break free from despair, and then the problem was completely resolved.
See, it was simple.
But if a wizard didn't know the trick, even someone as powerful as Dumbledore couldn't hope to deal with this kind of dark magical creature.
Even a handsome young Dumbledore wouldn't do; he could never whisper sweet nothings to a monster.
Lockhart came behind a shelf in the vault, looked back to confirm he was out of sight of Snape and the others, and then drew his wand to cast a spell on himself.
"Obliviate!"
His head radiated a silver glow, and strands of silver light rushed out from his mind like competing fish, swirling and dancing in mid-air guided by Lockhart's wand.
A gentle tap of the wand.
The memories rushed back into his head as if they had found home.
Doing this had no special meaning; it was simply to churn his already chaotic memories back into a bowl of porridge. According to previous experience, they needed just a tiny bit of time to rebuild their balance.
And during this time, Lockhart entered a state of superposition between 'Muggle' and 'Wizard'.
If the requirements for Muggle ancestry were particularly strict, this kind of cheating wouldn't work, but quite coincidentally, the banshee herself was precisely in a superposition state between an 'ordinary Muggle woman' and a 'witch'.
This should work.
Lockhart possessed a professional's confidence in his field.
He stuffed his wand and everything on his body containing magical properties into that small cloth bag with the Undetectable Extension Charm, then lowered his head to tidy his clothes and hair over the pool of blood on the ground.
Putting on his most perfect smile, he rounded a shelf and walked straight toward the banshee.
Then his smile almost cracked.
Even though he had anticipated it in his heart, seeing it face-to-face still gave him a creepy chill.
Oh, mother~
In the corner, above an antique gramophone that had fallen to the ground, a pale, translucent female wizarding figure resembling a ghost was bound to a stake, weeping and singing mournfully.
Yet, as soon as one drew even slightly closer, they would discover that the witch's head was a massive rabbit head, with long, drooping plush ears—no, rather, this was a human-sized rabbit.
As everyone knew, rabbits couldn't talk.