So this rabbit wearing a witch's robe, with a voluptuous figure and a stunningly gorgeous face, had bloody, gaping maws full of sharp fangs splitting all across her body, and right now they were all humming a seductive tune meant for passing travelers in unison.
Are you kidding me? This was a Dark magic creature!
Lockhart swallowed hard, slowly stepping closer as the standard smile that could captivate thousands of fans bloomed once again on his face.
He smiled.
He smiled so brightly that even Sister Rabbit was entranced.
Knowing human preferences all too well, it hastily closed every single bloody maw on its body. Its long ears stood straight up, its big red eyes blinked flutteringly, and it grinned to reveal two large front buckteeth.
Buling buling~
After being dazed in adoration for a moment, the rabbit's head shook rapidly, eventually transforming into the beautiful image of a blonde-haired, blue-eyed maiden.
Oh~, now that finally looked a lot more pleasing to the eye.
"Ah, beautiful maiden, what is the matter?"
The dashing Prince Charming had officially descended!
The handsome hunk Lockhart walked through the pool of blood as if he were taking a leisurely stroll through a scenic forest, looking at her with a face full of astonishment. In his eyes held three parts pity, three parts awe and burgeoning affection, and three parts the righteousness and integrity of an innocent young lad.
He was going to save her!
He would give his very life to save her!
He was so utterly unhesitating!
He was so righteous and kind!
The wronged fairy could feel it!
She stopped crying and singing, looking at him pitifully instead: "Save me!"
Nailed it!
Lockhart felt a secret thrill in his heart, though his face remained plastered with an anxious expression. "How am I to save you, my beautiful maiden~"
If he were to rush hastily forward to get close to her right now, it would only startle her. She might be easy to talk to, but the earth would instinctively summon its guardians to help, and that would spell trouble.
Of course, fighting bravely against a monster actually had a title; it was called the "Trial of Steadfast Love."
This trial had an answer, and that was for the paramour to suffer physical injury yet remain steadfast in his determination to help her.
At this point, a Dark Arts expert who knew the ropes would know how to streamline this entirely unnecessary process.
Lockhart understood this all too well.
He let out a soft cry of distress, then pretended to anxiously stride forward in a hurry. He hadn't taken two steps before he tripped and crashed hard onto the ground, his palm scraping heavily against the rough stone wall as expected, tearing a patch of fine, shallow cuts.
"Oh~ You're hurt!" The wronged fairy looked deeply concerned.
"It... it's nothing!" Lockhart half-leaned against the wall, panting as if he were on the verge of death. He extended a palm oozing a tiny trickle of fresh blood, his eyes full of deep affection: "For you, I am willing!"
The wronged fairy was moved—moved to absolute pieces, crying such a deluge of tears she looked like a pear blossom drenched in rain.
Truth be told, Dark magic creatures skilled in luring humans to their deaths had always mastered the absolute pinnacle of physical allure, and Lockhart found the sight utterly thrilling.
Oh mother dear~
So beautiful!
Then he almost broke character.
The wronged fairy began to struggle upon the pyre, every single inch of her body splitting open once again into bloody, fang-filled maws.
These gaping maws began to gnaw and chew at the thorny vines that bound and restricted her.
Gulp~
Lockhart swallowed hard, and seeing the wronged fairy cast her enamored gaze toward him once more, he hurriedly flashed his most standard, perfect smile—smiling until her eyes were filled with infatuation, smiling until the dozens of mouths on her body curved sweetly upward like crescent moons.
...
Outside the family treasury, Snape and the others were tense on guard and growing rather anxious.
They could only faintly catch the sounds of some talking, though it wasn't very clear.
Then they heard the sound of Lockhart tripping and crying out in pain, followed immediately by a boiling commotion erupting across this terrifying scene.
The bloody water that had previously merely seeped out from the cracks in the stone suddenly transformed into a surging tidal wave, churning and converging into a sea of blood that rushed fiercely toward the treasury doors.
Even though Professor Lockhart had told them this was springwater beneficial to the body and had even demonstrated by drinking a bunch of it on the spot, they simply couldn't bring themselves to swallow it.
It looked exactly like bloody water; they couldn't dodge away from it fast enough.
Just as they were all scrambling to dodge, the entire castle suddenly resounded with the crying of that monster—mournful and cold, yet carrying an alluring, hazy bewitchment within that coldness, making everyone's hair stand on end.
Even Harry, who had completely immersed himself in the atmosphere of a daring, fairytale-romantic adventure, still couldn't control the goosebumps that crawled all over his body.
He nervously gripped his flying broomstick tight, distancing himself from the flowing torrent of blood on the ground, and asked Professor McGonagall, "Should we go help Professor Lockhart?"
Professor McGonagall looked at the treasury with a solemn expression, pressing her lips together in silence.
Even she was hesitating right now!
Professor Snape, however, let out a cold snort. "Recklessness only brings disaster! The foolish Harry Potter is always messing things up. Didn't you hear your Professor Lockhart teach you all never to startle this Dark magic creature?!"
Harry didn't speak, wearing a look of total disagreement.
He simply felt that Professor Snape was just jealous of Professor Lockhart's strength and wisdom, and wanted to use this opportunity to get Professor Lockhart killed!
028 Voldemort's Study Notes
Lockhart no longer had the luxury of worrying about whether everyone outside the treasury would rush in and startle the wronged fairy.
Looking at her with such profound affection, wearing an air of delicate fragility, he raised his hand toward the wronged fairy.
This trick was exceptionally useful.
It was pure experience: being powerful while overflowing with a sense of fragility was the ultimate killer move.
With the overlapping identities of a "savior" and someone "waiting to be redeemed," the wronged fairy finally made the exact reaction he had been hoping for.
He was willing to die for her!
Then, she was also willing to live for him!
How long had she lingered on this pyre that burned her soul without a single moment of respite?
A hundred years?
Two hundred years?
No, she could no longer remember.
She only knew that she finally possessed the courage to face it, and she began to struggle with all her might against the restraints of the thorny, spike-covered vines.
The earth, too, anticipated her success and imbued her with power, causing the deep bloody gashes carved into her by the vines to rapidly heal.
She had finally broken free!
Staggering, treading with utmost care and a hint of timidity, her pink, tender feet gently stepped onto the ground.
The blood stains automatically recoiled from her feet, and the small pebbles rolling across the ground ahead of her shifted away, unwilling to harm even a single hair on her head.
Finally, she reached him, throwing herself forcefully into Lockhart's arms, her little head resting against his warm chest as she whispered shyly in his ear, "For my sake, live on!"
A beauty thrown into one's arms, soft yet firm.
He meant the bloody maws.
Lockhart looked with a trace of terror at the fangs pressing against every single part of his body, and trembling slightly, he gently reached out his hand to stroke her long golden hair.
He smiled.
He smiled with overflowing love.
"Yes, my beautiful maiden, I am willing to live for you. Are you willing to lower all your defenses for me? Open your heart completely to me! Without you, the colors of my life will drain away."
The wronged fairy carefully propped herself up by his chest to raise her upper body, her flushed cheeks hidden beneath drooping hair strands looking as though they were about to drip water, and she nodded her head firmly and lightly. "Mn!"
Very good.
Lockhart's other uninjured hand had long been tucked into the pocket of his wizard's robe, his fingers plunged into the small cloth pouch to grip his wand. Upon receiving her affirmation, he decisively whipped out his wand, pressed it against her, and rapidly chanted the incantation: "Return to the earth!"
The Reversion Charm was a branch of the Banishment spells within the field of Defense Against the Dark Arts.
Its applications were broad, showing formidable performance against wronged fairies, Inferi, and the like.
Under specific conditions, when highly targeted, its effects were exceptional!
The only problem was...
The wronged fairy twisted her waist—which was being poked by something—and looked at him with some puzzlement: "What did you say, and what is poking against me?"
"!!!"
The magic had failed!
Or rather, this spell had never been successfully cast in the first place.
This made things rather awkward.
His reflexes were lightning-fast, and he instantly rummaged through his chaotic memories to find a backup plan.
He had to be fast!
Otherwise, the bloody, fang-filled maws covering the wronged fairy's body would chew him into a pile of scraps.
The dangers of a Dark magic creature were no joke!
History was filled with Dark Arts experts who treated Dark magic creatures as living individuals and even intended to romance them, only to die miserably in the end.
This thing was a phenomenon!
Methods were merely ways to trigger changes in the phenomenon, and he could not afford to over-immerse himself in the other party's reactions!
Lockhart quietly shoved that wand—which was even less useful than a chopstick—back into the small cloth pouch in his pocket, looking at her with nothing but profound affection: "Never mind such petty details, beautiful maiden. Are you willing to live inside my heart? Will you wander this world by my side from now on?"
The wronged fairy nodded shyly, throwing herself once again onto his warm chest with utter infatuation.
Her cheeks were so red.
She felt her whole body growing so hot, so hot she felt as though she were about to melt.
Mn.
She truly was melting.
Professor McGonagall had ultimately decided to come and try to help; she was genuinely too worried about Lockhart. Entrusting young Urquhart to keep a close eye on Harry and Draco, she and Professor Snape had secretly slipped inside.
And then they witnessed...
Lockhart lying on the ground, a pink, translucent female figure nestled in his arms.
A sight like this didn't evoke any romantic charm whatsoever; it inspired nothing but an indescribable, bone-chilling horror.
Because that translucent figure was rapidly melting, growing strange, long tendrils all over her body like a glowing pink jellyfish, one after another tracing arcs through midair to plunge directly into Lockhart's chest.
Professor McGonagall and Professor Snape hurriedly raised their wands to intervene, only to see Lockhart frantically waving his hand at them behind her back, signaling wildly with his eyes.
"?" Professor McGonagall hesitated for a moment, looking over at Professor Snape.
Professor Snape, wearing an extremely solemn expression, began pulling potions that might help with this situation out of his wizard's robe pockets.
This transformation concluded very quickly.
That figure burrowed completely into Professor Lockhart's chest.
In a single instant, the bloodstains on the surrounding walls and the incessant birdcalls and whispers echoing in their ears vanished completely.
Only those venomous snakes and crawling reptiles scurried away in a panic toward every dark corner.
"Done!"
Lockhart clapped his hands and stood up with a beaming smile. "This couldn't stump me!"
Professor Snape simply handed him a vial of potion in silence. "It can purge the evil forces within your body; you'll need it."
Lockhart didn't stand on ceremony, looking at him with immense gratitude. "Oh, my dear Senior Snape, thank you truly so much."
Of course he needed this stuff!
A Potions Master carrying top-tier potions to guard against danger—no matter how many connections Lockhart had, he couldn't buy them.
Professor Snape didn't speak, merely turning away with a cold, indifferent expression and walking straight toward the exit.
Professor McGonagall watched the scene with a smile full of maternal warmth. "He's always so bad at expressing his feelings."
Young Urquhart was deeply grateful for the resolution of this crisis, and practically forced Professor McGonagall—who was anxious to rush back to school and get to work—to stay, insisting that everyone partake in a banquet of appreciation.
The venue was right there in the Urquhart Castle great hall.
Harry privately and bluntly pointed out that young Urquhart was simply afraid the place hadn't been thoroughly cleaned up yet and wanted everyone to stay behind to observe the situation.
Even without mentioning the adults, even Draco knew that much.
Lockhart smiled as he ruffled Harry's hair, simply saying, "It's only right, isn't it? We also need to stay behind to confirm that we've completely resolved the problem; being a little more prudent never hurts."
For a time, hosts and guests enjoyed themselves immensely.
The previously promised reward was the choice of a family heirloom. After pondering for a long time, Lockhart ultimately selected a ring enchanted with an Undetectable Extension Charm.
An ancient master's craft, the magic attached to it had stood the test of time and still performed quite stably.
As for the small cloth pouch he had previously acquired from Mr. Borgin, while it looked deceptively large in capacity, it was actually extremely unstable. If accidentally grazed by the fallout of some magic, regardless of whether there was any malicious intent, it might even explode on the spot.
Another item was an ancient gramophone that must have been in a damaged state; if it weren't broken, the wronged fairy wouldn't have escaped the magical artifact's binding.
If he could repair this gramophone, the potion Professor Snape gave him could be saved.
The last item was a book of magic.
Young Urquhart had originally intended to secretly swap it for other books; after all, no one knew which specific book he had traded with the Malfoy family.
But Professor McGonagall, who had long guessed this would happen, reminded this nephew and uncle: "Are you certain you can handle it?"
To protect the knowledge within, the creators of many magical books attached numerous baneful curses to them. Did young Urquhart genuinely plan to experience a state of utter helplessness once more?
Terrified, he eagerly hauled out this book and handed it to Lockhart, watching him leave his castle after the banquet before finally letting out a complete sigh of relief.
...
Returning to Hogwarts, Lockhart carefully placed the potion given by Professor Snape into the ring before pulling out the book to flip through it.
Professor McGonagall had helped check it, and there were no malicious curses attached.
The book's title was simple—*The Complete Encyclopedia of Pensieve Craft*.
The author was Septimus Malfoy and the Ministry of Magic's "Office for the Compilation of Egyptian Magical Literature."
Septimus Malfoy was a figure from the eighteenth century, serving at the time as an advisor to the Minister for Magic, which meant the ownership of the book in his hands should rightfully belong to the Ministry.
Yet considering that the Minister for Magic of that era, Anicess, was nicknamed "Malfoy's Puppet," one could easily understand why this book ended up in the Malfoy family's library.
Lockhart began reading with great interest.
He hadn't turned many pages before an illustration of a crystal skull Pensieve caught his eye.
It was introduced as follows: *“... Wizards are no longer confined to the simplest principles of human skull craniums affecting the brain and memories, and are attempting more variations with skulls. ...”*
*“... Before the craftsmanship of stone Pensieves—fired using magical clay and skull powder—was definitively settled upon, the advent of crystal skull craftsmanship was the most crucial achievement in the course of wizards' research ...”*
Good grief!
Lockhart had thought his crystal Occamy skull Pensieve was some marvelous treasure, but as it turned out, compared to modern Pensieve craftsmanship, this thing was an already-iterated, obsolete product.
In the wizarding world, not everything older was better; modern, systematized Transfiguration, for example, would be utterly unimaginable to ancient wizards.
Damn that Borgin, this greedy fellow had actually foisted an antique onto him!
And claiming that the control passphrase had been "omitted" upon receipt—heaven knew how many people had used this thing over the course of countless years, or even accompanied several masters into their graves; the passphrase had likely been lost to the rivers of history long ago.
Of course, ancient magical artifacts had the benefits of antiquity.
Modern stone basin and terracotta basin Pensieve techniques, much like wand-making techniques and the like, were tightly guarded in the hands of those so-called "Sacred Twenty-Eight" pure-blood families. By contrast, detailed information on this kind of crystal skull Pensieve had managed to circulate outside.
Lockhart quickly found a potion recipe used to awaken the memory imprint of a crystal skull-crafted Pensieve, which meant he had a way to restore the crystal Occamy skull Pensieve's ability to freely expand and shrink.
Yet he was soon distracted by some casual thinking notes scribbled across the precious book.
*— "I have heard that the great Albus Dumbledore used the technique of the ancient skull Pensieve to create a magical artifact for Gellert Grindelwald—who possessed prophetic abilities—that could project memory visions. Thus, ancient techniques can still be put to excellent use; the key is who is wielding them. — Tom Riddle."*
Tom Riddle...
Voldemort!
Lockhart sat up straight with a start, finally understanding why Lucius Malfoy had been so eager to clear this book out of his family vault.
029 The Pensieve and the Diary
Putting aside the inherent preciousness of the book *The Complete Encyclopedia of Pensieve Craft*, Voldemort's study notes from his youth alone were enough to prove its value.
No one could deny Voldemort's top-tier proficiency in the magical realm.
Lockhart could well imagine what kind of heartbreak Lucius Malfoy must have felt when he had to sell this book.
Yet he had no choice; if Arthur Weasley discovered he kept this, his past deceitful defense during the Wizengamot trials—claiming he had been placed under a magic spell when serving the Dark Lord—would instantly crumble, and he would likely be shipped straight off to Azkaban prison.
"Hehe~"
Lockhart let out a teasing chuckle and continued reading.
A flash of golden light crossed the room, and little Goldie leaped into his arms with a peach in its mouth, shuffling its little butt to find a comfortable spot. Hesitating for a moment, it forcefully snapped the peach in half and handed one half to him.
"Good boy, but I'm reading right now, eat it yourself."
Lockhart ruffled little Goldie's furry head.
Right at that moment, strands of pink tendrils emerged from his body, rapidly converging into a pink, translucent figure that draped itself across his back. Her long golden hair hung down as she peeked her head over his left shoulder, staring with curious eyes at the little Goldie in his arms.
"Guji!"
Little Goldie widened its shattered-gold pupils, and seeing that the other party showed zero fear toward it, grew somewhat irritated. It extended its third furry little hand to poke Lockhart, then pointed at the wronged fairy: "Guji?"
— Where did this flashy, cheap-looking thing come from?
— When did you bring another woman home?
— Am I still your little sweetie or not?
"Shh~"
Lockhart raised a finger to signal these two Dark magic creatures to quiet down; neither of you even has a gender, stop putting on such a big act. "You have to be focused when reading, so you can absorb wisdom."
His attitude was firm, leaving little Goldie and the wronged fairy with no choice but to stop disturbing him and glare at each other instead.
Little Goldie was evidently much fiercer; its shattered-gold eyes seemed to begin glowing, and a terrifying sense of dread and despair rapidly brewed throughout the entire environment, scaring the Boggart hiding in the tree hole of the peach tree by the office fireplace into banging its head in terror.
Under the guidance of Lockhart—who understood a little bit of everything—little Goldie, gradually entering maturity, had not only learned to rein in its own magical influence, but was also beginning to figure out how to amplify and heighten that magical presence.