allendalepharm Chapter 322 Tom! How dare you!
Chapter 322 Tom! How dare you!
Chapter 322 Tom! How dare you!
Accepting the normalization of mixed-blood wizards and the rise of Muggle wizards, they try to squeeze into the mainstream of the "Dumbledore era" and embrace new challenges. They believe that in a fair competitive environment, pure-bloods, who are born with various extraordinary talents, will inevitably defeat Muggles.
This is the mindset that pure-blood wizards in the new era must accept and actively change.
In comparison, the pure-blood families of the French Wizarding Council, which was not led by Voldemort and was squeezed to the edge of the world, changed their mindset much earlier than the pure-blood families of the British Wizarding Council.
Otherwise, the kind of educational reforms Lockhart initiated wouldn't be so easy, nor would they have such a high level of cooperation.
Magic is not always about power. It can threaten life, but it cannot threaten the human heart, and the human heart always leans towards the greatest good.
Unless the magic of power and the greatest interests begin to overlap.
Lockhart then told those people, "I only have one thing to say today: I've brought Voldemort to you. If you're smart, you should know how to cooperate."
The result was very good; they all cooperated.
Gradually, they began to rejoice at the arrival of Lockhart and Voldemort in their ranks, leading them.
Lockhart didn't have as many political demands as Voldemort.
This is something everyone can feel.
Thus, Voldemort had room to maneuver. He would eventually be supported and carried by a group of people with a new slogan that fits the new era, and be put on the throne of the principal of the American Ilvermorny School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, to participate in the competition of the new era.
In this matter, Dumbledore was tolerant. Tom was undoubtedly the best wizard after him and Grindelwald. Regardless of his character, he was a valuable asset to the wizarding world. If Tom was no longer that ruthless madman, everything would be acceptable.
As for Grindelwald's attitude—
He even supported it.
Grindelwald supported Dumbledore's approach because he saw the various possibilities arising from Muggle wizards occupying the delicate space between wizarding and Muggle societies.
Grindelwald would also support Voldemort's actions because he saw the power emanating from pure-blood wizards becoming increasingly competitive, bringing with it the possibility of "wizard supremacy."
In contrast, his attitude towards Lockhart's actions was neither supportive nor opposed, especially regarding the breeding of Hakimi cats, dark magical creatures that spread magic to Muggles. He harbored a contradictory mix of anticipation for the future and aversion to the spread of magic to Muggles.
But in any case, Voldemort's taming (and also the fundamental reason for merging with young Tom) brought about the complete transformation of the entire wizarding society under the "magic school-centered" system.
Then let time tell everything.
Go into this arena and compete—a healthy competition—to prove who is right.
And so, the "Quidditch Duel" team competition of the Triwizard Tournament officially began.
A large number of people from outside the school began to flock to Hogwarts.
Among them was a wizard with an extremely unique aura.
He appeared to be middle-aged, probably in his fifties, with a handsome and elegant demeanor that had been refined over time. He was composed, dressed in a modern three-piece wizard's robe and leaning on a cane. He exuded an indescribable arrogance and nobility, yet wore a relaxed and peaceful smile.
"Tom?"
Lockhart sensed the other person instantly; after all, this was his "good buddy," and the relationship magic automatically brought him a warning.
He quickly spotted him in the crowd, staring at Voldemort with such curiosity, and gasped, "Is this your real body?"
Old Tang, are you really that brave?
Did they run up to Dumbledore to show off?
Voldemort simply smiled mysteriously, his voice carrying the elegant magnetism unique to an old man, "The old me has fallen asleep in the graveyard, the new me walks into the morning light."
Got it, it's still a clone.
Voldemort was clearly afraid of being imprisoned again; he didn't want to experience that kind of confinement where he had to carefully consider other people's mentality to find even the slightest possibility of escape.
but----
Is it really a clone?
Lockhart tilted his head and looked at him curiously, feeling that Voldemort in front of him was so real, with flesh and blood, and radiating the vitality of someone who could move in the real world.
This is a perception that is extremely different from that of a wandering spirit; it is the perception of a normal, living person.
Wow~
He couldn't help but marvel.
Sure enough, when a magic master is no longer mentally challenged, he always brings a mystery and power that others cannot fathom.
Voldemort was in high spirits, and seeing Lockhart's admiring and amazed expression, he stopped holding back and began to share his newfound insights.
"When a person is buried in a grave, the soul floats up from the body, and we believe that this has caused a predetermined death. Thus, we are able to use the means of resurrection to construct our new body, and in fact construct the wonderful magical state of having two bodies, with the body in the grave being the source."
"Awesome!"
Lockhart had to give a thumbs up. What was this? A physical version of a Horcrux?
"Wait!" He suddenly realized, sniffed, and carefully examined Voldemort from head to toe. "You don't speak Parsley anymore!!!"
As a new version of Parseltongue that touches upon the source of "snake" magic, Lockhart actually has a subtle control over Voldemort, who is increasingly becoming a creature of dark magic and a snake.
But it's gone now!
Oh my god~
Can the resurrection spell freely add or remove magical bloodlines?
Voldemort gave a wicked smile and gracefully raised his right hand to greet Dumbledore and Grindelwald who were walking behind him.
A clear, crisp cry echoed throughout the venue.
Amidst the gasps of everyone around, flames surged, and a phoenix, an immortal bird, flapped its wings and flew in.
Then, gracefully, lightly, unhurriedly, and gently, it landed on the fingers of his right hand.
"Yes, I am now ————"
Voldemort was very pleased with himself, "A pure-blood wizard favored by the phoenix!"
Crit!
Dumbledore's expression changed. He was always so gentle and peaceful, always so tolerant, but at this moment he felt a kind of anger as if his own territory had been invaded and trampled upon!
This is human instinct, and it cannot be changed by will.
Tom!
How dare you!
This is the magical bloodline of our Dumbledore family!
But this is precisely Voldemort's mockery—Professor Dumbledore, haven't you always been indifferent to pure-bloods? Why are you so concerned about them when it comes to yourself?
You have to maintain your image, right? You have to smile and express your admiration for this great magical achievement, right?
Grindelwald's expression faltered slightly as he stood nearby.
He valued the ability to manipulate magical bloodlines more, especially if one used magical bloodlines as a kind of add-on—
Well, this should be considered wishful thinking. It's obvious without even thinking about it that this is only an extremely high-end magical ability and has no universal applicability.
Lockhart stood to the side, barely managing to suppress his laughter.
He couldn't help but cough, forcefully changing the subject, "Tom, you know about a magical spell I invented—"
"We depend on each other for survival, I know." Voldemort raised his left hand to tease the phoenix's chin, smiling. "I've already used it, and it feels wonderful."
He spoke in an aria-like tone, his eyes half-closed, "I felt the beauty of family! I felt love!"
People around were already speculating whether this middle-aged man was a descendant of a branch of Dumbledore's family.
Old Deng really didn't know what to say.
Just then, Professor McGonagall called him from afar, so he could only give Grindelwald and Lockhart a look—keep an eye on this troublesome fellow and make sure he doesn't cause any more trouble!
Tom's appearance did not cause any sensation.
Firstly, his current appearance is hard to associate with the evil villain, and it is also very different from the photos in various newspaper reports about Voldemort's capture.
Secondly, those who recognized him all knew to keep their mouths shut.
Just like when everyone first saw Grindelwald emerge from Nurmengard and appear before them so openly, they remained silent.
Finally, and most importantly.
Lockhart suspected that Voldemort might have secretly met with some pure-blood families during this time. After all, he could observe that his apprentice Cassius's father, Mr. Warrington, glanced at Voldemort from afar with fear, respect, and dread, but without surprise.
Of course, one person was quite startled.
Lucius Malfoy.
As soon as he entered the venue, he began searching for Lockhart. Upon spotting him in the distance, he politely declined a Ministry of Magic official who approached him to speak, and strode towards Lockhart.
Before he even got close, he saw Lockhart and Voldemort chatting and laughing as they headed towards the podium.
!!!
He was as if he had been petrified, his body stiffened like a statue, frozen in place.
Yes, he certainly knew that Voldemort had appeared in Beauxbatons and had been hired by Lockhart as vice-principal.
But that was a ghost.
Many people are saying that Voldemort is dead, that the invincible great evil king is dead, and now only a ridiculous ghost remains that can no longer harm anyone.
Some of those who betrayed the Death Eaters would even casually joke with him, saying that they might see Voldemort form the Ghost Band in the future and then tell him, "I've been a Dark Lord for many years now," and that they would definitely go and see it.
Then, Voldemort appeared.
Appearing here in human form, in the prime of life, and with exceptional wisdom!
Lucius could even see that as Voldemort and Lockhart walked along, some of their comrades would secretly and subtly salute Voldemort, who would simply smile and nod in acknowledgment.
In other words, Voldemort has already made contact with these old followers!
But they didn't contact him!
Oh~
He has completely sided with Lord Lockhart.
Lucius swallowed hard, his heart pounding so hard it felt like it was about to jump out of his throat.
In a daze, he reunited with his wife and then found his son, Draco Malfoy.
Draco was not able to become a member of the "Beauxbatons School team," but that doesn't matter. Since Lord Lockhart didn't interfere in this matter, there must be a reason for it.
The family of three quickly went up to the stands.
His wife Narcissa and son Draco quickly noticed that he was not in a good mood.
When the match moved to the speech segment, Dumbledore began to discuss important matters such as the Master Class during the tournament and the significance of Quidditch dueling. Narcissa finally couldn't help but lean over and whisper, "I thought you should be listening carefully to what Dumbledore is saying right now!"
Lucius shuddered violently, as if awakened, and his vision returned to reality. He first glanced at Dumbledore speaking in the distance, and Lockhart sitting smiling beside Dumbledore, before letting out a sigh of relief and whispering to Narcissa about his discovery.
"Go find Lord Lockhart!" Narcissa's voice was resolute. "We must do it as soon as possible!"
But it probably won't be much faster.
Lord Lockhart placed great importance on Quidditch duels, a sport he had promoted at Hogwarts from the very beginning, and it was Draco and Harry who started the training first. (Chapter 24)
He was sitting there at that moment, with Dumbledore, Grindelwald, and the seemingly insignificant Voldemort beside him.
"This match will be a best-of-two series!"
Professor Gavin Steele, a top internationally renowned Quidditch expert from Durmstrang, took the stage to host the event. He discovered Viktor Krum during his time at the university, and no one was more suitable to be the referee.
In fact, Lockhart had tried to get Percy Weasley, the Quidditch tournament organizer, to take the position, but this went against Dumbledore and Grindelwald's policy of a "magic school-centered" system and was rejected.
Fudge, the Minister of Magic of England, had also volunteered, hoping to use this platform to make a name for himself, but Dumbledore sternly rejected him.
"The best-of-two format means that any school's team that defeats the other two schools is declared the winner!"
"If no school team can achieve such results, the competition will continue round after round, further testing the warriors' comprehensive abilities in terms of patience, physical strength, mental qualities, teamwork, and ability to fight under pressure."
"If more than one school team achieves two wins, a final match will be held to determine the ultimate winner!"
"Now, please have the captains of each school team come up to the stage to draw lots to determine the order of entry for the first round of 3 matches."
Draco watched the scene with regret; he so desperately wanted to be on stage to compete.
He could only watch helplessly as Harry Potter, captain of the Hogwarts team, walked onto the stage amidst the clamor of attention, surrounded by discussions about them.
The next three-way battle will be five years from now, which means he has no chance at all.
"That's not necessarily true." Unable to go to Lockhart now, Lucius forced himself to focus on the game and comforted his son when he saw his son looking distressed.
"Quidditch duels seem more dangerous than the game itself. Many say this is how wizarding armies are trained; it's too dangerous!"
In fact, Lucius knew that the British Ministry of Magic's Auror Office, which was increasingly lacking new talent, intended to use this competition to examine these promising students and select outstanding talents who might be able to make an exception for them.
"We can expect that this will inevitably result in casualties. If necessary, you should be brave enough to step forward and fight for your opportunity!"
Finding opportunities in the cracks is something the Malfoy family excels at.
Draco's eyes lit up, filled with anticipation, and he began to pray that Evie Lestrange, captain of Team Beauxbatons, would be in trouble soon.
If something happens to that despicable guy who refused to let him join the team because of a family feud, then I can step up and lead everyone.
The lottery results came out quickly.
Host Professor Gavin Steele loudly announced the first round of the competition to everyone:
Round 1: Beauxbatons vs. Hogwarts Round 2: Beauxbatons vs. Durmstrang Round 3: Hogwarts vs. Durmstrang "Yes!" Malfoy exclaimed excitedly in a low voice. No one knew better than him how intense Quidditch duels were. With two matches starting in a row, Beauxbatons might not be able to hold on.
This is an opportunity!
So the quick-thinking Malfoy began to consider potential competitors.
The students who were originally from Beauxbatons—oh, those weren't enough, and because it wasn't their home ground—hadn't come to Hogwarts yet.
As for the transfer students who had already received Quidditch dueling training from the original dueling club, George and Fred seemed uninterested in joining the team, and his girlfriend Pansy had no talent, leaving only Crabbe.
Vincent Crabbe!
His good friend, who has become increasingly dull, has even started memorizing a huge book on potions.
Nothing could be more outrageous than this, at least that's what he thought.
Draco quickly looked around, trying to find Crabbe.
This was no easy feat, given the sheer number of spectators and the unique nature of the event, which made the venue far larger than a typical Quidditch match.
There were heads everywhere.
He quickly sat down again, subconsciously looking around for a moment to make sure no one was paying attention to him, before taking out a small box from the pocket of his wizard's robe. Inside, an illegal Unseen Stretch Charm had been applied, intended to hold some things.
He pulled out a watch face that was larger than the pocket watch, with two hairy ears on it.
It appears to be for navigation.
But its actual name is "The Owl Postman's Guide," and it can help you find people.
The large hand on the dial spun rapidly, then stopped after he silently recited Crabbe's full name, pointing in a distant direction.
The two small pointers in the corner soon began to point to their respective positions.
"On the right, within a 100-meter radius, in the corner—"
He muttered the information he had deciphered from the alchemical artifact, quickly looking in that direction, and finally saw Crabbe.
Sitting in the last row corner, he was muttering to himself, as if he were reciting a text.
Draco had no idea what Crabbe had gone through that summer to have such perseverance in wanting to memorize an entire tome.
He bent over and quickly moved through the gaps between the seats, soon reaching Crabbe's side.
"Go up and compete?"
Crabbe looked at him blankly, seemingly still absorbed in the complex potion recipe, his simple mind unable to process it.
"Yes!" Draco waved his arms excitedly. "If we have the chance, we can go up together!"
Crabbe shook his head helplessly. "I'm sorry, Draco, I just drank Professor Snape's brain-branding potion yesterday. Everything makes me dizzy, and I can't fight at all."
His Quidditch talent is actually quite good, and with Professor Lockhart specifically tailoring his training to his unique characteristics, he has a lot of magic that requires a simple mind. In fact, his combat level has always been one of the more competitive players in the Duel Club.
"Brand it on your brain?" Draco asked with a strange expression.
He knew the recipe; in fact, all the wizards in the pure-blood families who were even slightly close to the center of their respective family's power knew about this potion—because it was a magic potion used to help house-elves remember the family rules.
Its effect is like having a red-hot iron branded onto your skin—painful and unforgettable.
Some wizards tried it themselves and called it the "Painful Knowledge Swallowing Elixir." During the use of the elixir, every little bit of new knowledge learned was a torment.
Draco looked at the enormous, seemingly endless tome in Crabbe's arms with horror, and whispered in disbelief, "Are you trying to drive yourself crazy?"
Crab scratched his head sheepishly, "Actually, it's alright. The Soul Fire has always been warming my soul and providing me with a warm healing."
But that's healing, not a counteracting effect. The pain will still be there; it's just that you can recover faster.
Draco felt a little sorry for him and patted his silly friend on the shoulder. "Is it really that important to remember all this?"
""
"It's very important!" Crabbe's attitude was very firm and sincere.
"Alright." Draco stopped trying to persuade him. Just like Percy Weasley, the upperclassman, had said in a Duel Club members' sharing session, fairy tale theory closely links magic and life. I think we need to understand that life can't always be smooth sailing, and neither can magic. When we expect magic to bloom, it appears so easily in our hands. Remember, we sincerely accept the trials of life."
With the competition about to begin, Crabbe decided to put down his books and let his aching brain catch its breath.
So the two good friends started chatting.
The bond between them was no less than that between Harry, Draco, and Narcissa, Draco's mother, treated Crabbe and Goyle as her own sons.
The two, who were very open with each other, began to whisper some secrets, and Draco told her about what his father had just seen and his worries.
"He doesn't need to worry!" Crabbe said directly.
Seeing Draco hesitate for a moment, he simply drew his wand and cast a spell that would prevent others from eavesdropping, explaining in a low voice, "Professor Lockhart once gave me a list of people he had made in a pact with the Dark Lord, agreeing that the Dark Lord would not harm them. The list included the three of us (including Goyle) and our parents."
It wasn't actually a signed covenant, but a constraint forcibly inscribed into Voldemort's soul, but Crabbe wouldn't say that.
He's just stupid, not dumb.
Some things can be thought out slowly, considering the best interests of Professor Lockhart to arrive at a decision, so that when the time comes, there's no need to resort to a stupid brain to make a decision on the spot.
"An alliance? Really?" Draco was utterly shocked.
Crabbe nodded seriously. "The premise is that everyone doesn't provoke the Dark Lord. Otherwise, Professor Lockhart won't be responsible for any retaliation. He said he's done everything he could, and those who don't know how to respect a master of magic deserve it!"
Draco's expression turned serious. "Dude, I need to go tell my dad about this right away!"
Just then, a firework exploded suddenly in the stadium ahead.
The game is on!
Draco actually doesn't think much of Beauxbatton, even though he's now on Beauxbatton's side.
The first match was against Hogwarts, where every member was a Quidditch duelist trained in the sport and all came from Professor Lockhart's Duel Club.
Their combat skills and on-the-spot reaction ability are terrifyingly strong.
Not to mention they explored each other and made numerous contingency plans for various situations.
But clearly Beauxbatons was not unprepared.
They devised a strategy early on, and at the very start of the match, they collectively cast a war spell, the Fog of War!
The power of a wizard's collective spellcasting is unparalleled; the combined effect of all the spells increases exponentially.
This is a major feature of Beauxbatons' Charms class, and as a result, group spellcasting is highly valued in all student groups within the school.
Fog of War, a very common war magic used by wizards, can release a fog to cover the entire battlefield, disrupting the sensory perception of all enemies, releasing intense irritating blows to the enemy's nose and eyes, and obscuring light to create a dark and mysterious atmosphere.
Most importantly, this curse is divided into friend and foe!
This curse has a very fitting nickname—"Burning the Onion Warehouse".
It means that a warehouse full of onions was set on fire, and the terrible smoke was enough to make anyone who got close feel a lump in their throat and tears well up in their eyes.
This tactic is clearly extremely effective!
Hogwarts values individual dueling ability more, and the so-called group is more like cooperation between different teams.
Beauxbatons, on the other hand, valued orderly collectivism, and their classical teachings made it easier for them to follow the military model of ancient wizards who defeated various enemies such as fairies, dragons, and giants.
The solution to this magic is quite simple.
The young wizards could dispel the curse by collectively casting the "Stop the Curse" spell, so the Beauxbatons' team was simply trying to gain the upper hand with this one-shot strategy.
Surprisingly, Harry Potter and his Hogwarts team did not have this training.
This disrupted the rhythm for a moment.
But don't think that means we've lost.
Every member of the Hogwarts team was incredibly powerful. Since they had been temporarily scattered, they began to attack individually, unleashing high-intensity offensive and control magic.
"Fuchsia!"
"Thunderous explosion!"
"Freeze them all!"
"Suspended and flipped!"
"They'll all be petrified!"
'
'
In an instant, streaks of magical light flickered in the dark mist. It was unclear who had cast a spell that unleashed a group attack of lightning. The electricity began to coursing through the mist and eventually struck an unfortunate soul.
"Ah~~~"
With a piercing scream, the unfortunate fellow shuddered from the electric shock and fell from the flying broom high in the sky, convulsing and emitting black smoke as he crashed to the ground.
"Adrian!" someone exclaimed, and Neville Longbottom, who was flying nearby, immediately noticed the location. He instantly lowered his body on his flying broom, cast an illusion spell on himself to conceal his form, and charged towards the person.
Charge, like a knight!
The fire bolts provided immense mobility, rapidly increasing to an astonishing 150 miles per hour within ten seconds.
As Neville steered his flying broom past the man, he executed a standard "Kaloman Serpentine" maneuver, striking the man on the head with the broom handle. The man's eyes rolled back, and he fell silently, following closely behind his friend, who was struck by lightning.
The audience in the stands gasped in unison, but could only see Neville glance at the surrounding crowd before lowering his body again and disappearing into the darkness of the war fog.
"Bullshit!"
Draco shouted excitedly, waving his arms, "This is a tactic I invented! I told them about it at the sharing session! I haven't even used it yet! Ahhhhh, Neville, well done!"
Crabbe had to remind him, "Draco, Neville is Gryffindor, and we're already Beauxbatons' students; they're rivals!"
Ha!
What do you know!
I want to reduce our players! I want to reduce our Beauxbatons players! I want to play! I want to play!
Draco screamed wildly in his mind.
He desperately wanted to be able to play in the second game!