allendalepharm Chapter 295 Lockhart's Humiliation
Chapter 295 Lockhart's Humiliation
Chapter 295 Lockhart's Humiliation
So, is the prophet Grindelwald's earlier "Are you going to help Voldemort?" attitude really going to come true?
Of everyone present, not one was one who would compromise easily.
Everyone drew their wands and tried to attack Voldemort from their own perspectives.
Of course, the most important thing is to rescue Snape. As long as Snape is rescued, Voldemort will remain imprisoned in this stone house and will have no bargaining power whatsoever.
"It's like attacking someone hiding in a house under a spell of unwavering loyalty; I can't even be sure if he's actually standing there."
Compared to Dumbledore's more expansive and domineering magical approach, Grindelwald's style is more ingenious and flexible, yet he still couldn't handle the situation before him.
He tried it for a while and then stopped.
He didn't want to waste his time casting spells in a futile manner after realizing he couldn't solve the problem for the time being.
That would be too embarrassing.
So he shook his head, stood there with his hands behind his back, tilted his head back, and gazed into the future with one heterochromatic eye.
All the possibilities of the future —
Oh~
It doesn't seem like a big deal.
That's settled then.
So he watched with great interest as Professor McGonagall cast her spell.
This little girl who used to follow Dumbledore has now grown old and possesses a magical power far greater than previously thought, standing out from her former companions Newt, Theseus, Queenie, Euryale, and others.
Unfortunately, like Aberforth and Snape, he was still unable to enter the ranks of true magical masters.
Professor McGonagall's magical approach is very straightforward, just as she has said—there is nothing that Transfiguration cannot solve.
As she solemnly raised her wand and waved it, the entire scene inside the stone house rapidly distorted. The wooden floor, the chest of drawers, the sofa, and even Voldemort inside became distorted and abstract in everyone's vision.
With Voldemort hanging in mid-air behind him, struggling to pull at the rope around his neck that he couldn't reach, Snape, who seemed to be suffocating, appeared to be getting further and further away from Voldemort and closer and closer to everyone else in this distorted scene.
It felt as if a pair of powerful hands were twisting and pulling the entire space.
This unique transformation technique subtly carries the flavor of the "Seamless Stretch Charm" and "Apparition".
The only problem is————
Her magical power was far inferior to Voldemort's; it was a complete difference in strength.
The method was correct, but no results were obtained.
In contrast, the other Transfiguration master present was much more reckless.
With a cry of a phoenix, flames surged and the figure vanished quickly.
He traveled directly through space to Lockhart's house in Hogsmeade to check Voldemort's current location and attempted to cast spells there, but judging from his solemn expression upon his return, he had clearly come up empty-handed.
"Gidero————"
Voldemort, inside the stone archway, spoke again. Somehow, he was holding a glass of wine spiked by Snape, sipping it as he watched everyone busy at work. "I must warn you," he said, "that while I'm not in a great hurry, Severus is probably not going to make it much longer."
In an instant, all the magic vanished, and everyone stopped casting spells.
Lockhart glanced at Dumbledore. "Alright, Tom, you win."
He shrugged helplessly. "Nobody can do anything about you. We can only listen to your demands. But since you only came to me, I'm afraid you don't want me to release you, right?"
If anyone's going to be released, it should be Dumbledore.
If Voldemort had actually made such a request to Dumbledore, one wonders if, for the sake of the "greater good," Dumbledore would have decided to sacrifice Snape in order to keep this villain, whom he had been trying to capture for decades, imprisoned.
Of course, he might agree, since Dumbledore's personality makes it difficult for him to do something that directly sacrifices others.
Such a choice would be too cruel for this gentle and weary old man.
But here's the interesting part: Voldemort simply couldn't get Dumbledore to make such a cruel choice at this point.
Because of blood magic.
No one understands the current situation better than Lockhart.
Essentially, the most crucial element in the bloodline magic that was protecting Voldemort was not Lockhart, but Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
Voldemort finally seemed to compromise, saying, "Fine, I'm willing to accept this family," thus completely merging into this bloodline magic manifested as a curse. He inevitably had to consider Dumbledore, the patriarch, as a member of the family.
Any magic with a covenant nature must involve mutual checks and balances.
"Yes, my request is very simple."
Voldemort raised his left hand and opened it, as if demanding something. "Give me back my diary, it's that simple."
ohh~
Lockhart chuckled. "I thought you'd be resistant to it. Oh, so our evil Dark Lord has finally decided to seek the power of 'love' again?"
Voldemort's eyes narrowed, flashing with a dangerous light. "You don't have to understand me so well!"
"A diary?" Professor McGonagall spoke up, keenly observing the grave expressions on Dumbledore and Grindelwald's faces. "Professor Lockhart, what's going on?"
She needed to know what the consequences would be after returning the diary.
"That's the medicine he left behind to undo his mistakes."
Lockhart grinned. "Of course, it's possible that Voldemort at 16 truly loathed so-called love," and was determined to sever it, so much so that even after Ginny Weasley brought the diary to Hogwarts, the 66-year-old Voldemort still coldly watched the diary's self-destruction under Dumbledore's very nose.
"But in essence, this is a regret pill he instinctively created for himself, an alternative Horcrux unlike any other. It possesses the most complete Voldemort soul, including the ability to love that he now lacks."
"Clearly, our Dark Lord now regrets it, realizing that the lack of the ability to love is a huge deficiency, making him completely unable to deal with Dumbledore and Grindelwald, so he wants to take it back."
At this point, Lockhart gasped. "In the past, even if Voldemort had retrieved the Horcruxes, it wouldn't have mattered, because his state was already anchored to the Horcruxes and was being purely purified along the path of his magical bloodline—"
"Only now that the Horcrux magic has completely failed can he use the diary to regain his entire soul!"
He looked at Voldemort with disbelief, "Tom, you actually knew Snape would drug you?"
Voldemort had a sour look on his face and really didn't want to pay attention to Lockhart at that moment.
That piece of shit!
This peacock is a piece of dog shit!
I've lost count of how many times he's opened that box!
I absolutely despise it!
But he had no choice; he had to answer the question. Who knew if Lockhart, that lunatic, would refuse to return the diary because of his bad attitude?
He was actually gambling, gambling that in Lockhart's heart, Snape, as a friend, was more important than the diary that could keep him in check.
He wasn't really sure; compared to Lockhart's deep understanding of him, he didn't really understand Lockhart.
The guy in front of me can be incredibly warm at times, and terrifyingly cold at others.
"I don't know, I'm not a prophet or a seer."
Voldemort maintained his elegant demeanor. "All I know is that after you capture me, the first thing you'll do is destroy the Horcruxes. And I also know that Dumbledore has no way of getting the diary from you."
"Nonsense, I'd give it to Dumbledore if he wanted it." Lockhart rolled his eyes. "Don't try to sow discord between us!"
He's slandering me!
Voldemort merely responded with a cold laugh.
Okay, that concludes the discussion. It's time to give the answer.
Lockhart turned to the three bigwigs beside him. "What do you think?"
The ability to "find love again"? To make one's soul whole? Grindelwald looked at Voldemort meaningfully. "Is it because you've discovered that the power of hatred and malice is insufficient to rule the world?"
Dumbledore frowned, remaining silent.
Professor McGonagall remained silent; she was never the one making decisions when she was with him, but she had to urge Dumbledore to decide, "Professor Snape is about to collapse."
Perhaps Voldemort really needed that diary.
But as everyone knows, Voldemort is becoming increasingly brain-dead, and he might actually let Snape die for the sake of saving face.
"Give it to him." Dumbledore sighed, gazing intently at Voldemort. "Hopefully, having gained the capacity for love, he won't act so extremely in the future."
As for hoping that Voldemort will become a good person because of this?
Ah, Dumbledore wouldn't dare think that way. Tom's wickedness was ingrained in his bones and had been evident since he was very young.
"OK."
Since the big shots had made their decision, Lockhart didn't say anything more, and simply raised his wand and waved it lightly.
In an instant, a vast, spiritually expansive river emerged, so boundless it took one's breath away, yet it had no effect on human perception. It was formless and intangible, yet omnipresent, filled with mystery and eeriness.
The river of time.
A ghost ship floated silently on it.
With a wave of the wand, a series of chains clanged as the anchor carrying Tom Riddle's soul swayed toward the real world.
Everyone was stunned by what they saw.
"Professor!" Tom, being an exceptionally intelligent man, sensed something amiss from Voldemort and the others' postures. He cried out anxiously, even exasperatedly, "You—"
His voice turned into an inaudible sob.
Lockhart used magic to stop young Tom from saying anything more, and simply shrugged helplessly, "I'm sorry, Tom, this was the necessary choice."
The chains swung.
Young Tom was dragged to the stone archway.
"Tom!" Lockhart looked at Voldemort. "This isn't an equal deal for me, so I have three demands!"
Voldemort stared intently at himself, his anger stemming not only from Lockhart's manipulation of his soul, but also from a chilling sense of self-doubt.
Moreover, it is a more complete version of myself than I am now.
The feeling is similar to the instinctive horror one feels after staring at their reflection in a mirror for a long time; it's even more pronounced now.
"Go ahead," he said, his voice slightly trembling.
No one would laugh at his loss of composure, not even Dumbledore, Grindelwald, or Professor McGonagall at that moment.
Controlling the undead.
Is this within the scope of the Grim Reaper's abilities?
The emergence of the River of Time, in particular, sparks much speculation, especially since the Tales of Beedle the Bard tells the story of three brothers who obtained the three Deathly Hallows from Death, which is also related to the River of Time.
It was a unique life force that could not be adequately described as either "the force of life" or "the force of death."
"First, release Severus."
Even if everyone thinks this is part of the deal, Lockhart still needs to clarify it.
Voldemort didn't speak, he just nodded.
"second!"
Lockhart gently waved his wand, and the soil on the ground quickly floated, twisted, and mixed, eventually gathering in mid-air to form a stone tablet. A large number of eerie green flames emerged from the stone tablet, engraving names on it.
"I will etch the names on the list into the depths of Tom's soul. This is advance notice, and it's part of the deal. I demand that you not harm them in the future!"
It includes wizards and Muggles, such as Lockhart's family and Harry Potter's uncle's family.
A very, very long list.
Voldemort's gaze turned icy. He keenly sensed the presence of numerous high-level magical elements emanating from the stone tablet: blood magic, Patronus Charm, Blood Pact, Unbreakable Oath Charm—
This is utterly humiliating!
He was almost laughing in anger.
But, as the saying goes, when you're under someone's roof, you have to bow your head; he had no choice but to look at the list on the stone tablet.
As he looked, a smile crept onto his face. "No Harry Potter? No Severus? No you? No Dumbledore? No Grindelwald?"
Lockhart shrugged. "We all know that the power of the Covenant brings mutual checks and balances, at least we feel it very clearly right now."
"So you think the missing names on the list are people who might kill me in the future?" Voldemort chuckled.
Oh shit!
This is an absolute and blatant insult!
Lockhart flicked his wand, and an enormous serpent coiled around Tom Riddle, instantly severing the chain binding him to the anchor. It then snatched the stone tablet in its mouth, flipped it over, and plunged into the river of time to imprint Tom with the deepest mark on his soul.
It's less about the details of the transaction and more about informing the other party.
He did just that, and if Voldemort really wanted to merge with young Tom's soul, the outcome was inevitable.
So he didn't even ask Voldemort for an answer.
The most humiliating thing about this is that he has absolutely no doubt that Voldemort had the ability to remove this "whitelist" before merging with the soul.
That's how confident I am.
"third!"
Lockhart became a little embarrassed when this was mentioned.
He put away his wand, rubbed his hands together, and said in a negotiating tone, "Tom, oh, young Tom, he has a deal with me, and I hope you can accept it."
Voldemort chuckled coldly, "Stop pretending, just tell me."
"That's right." Lockhart gestured in the direction Tom had left along the river of time above. "He asked me what I would do with him, and I said I didn't know, but I was willing to give him a chance."
"An opportunity to make amends for the harm done to the world."
"So he agreed to write down all his knowledge and wisdom about potions and give it to the world."
These words silenced everyone present.
Voldemort stared intently at Lockhart, and finally sighed, "Sometimes I want to kill you, and sometimes I find you really amusing."
"I agree."
make a deal!
In the long river of time, a long snake traverses across, eventually landing in reality, throwing Tom Riddle's soul, with its snake tail coiled, into the stone archway.
Soon, the lights inside the stone archway went out, and the interior returned to complete darkness.
A figure was thrown out; it was none other than Professor Snape.
He lay face down in the mud, panting heavily like a dead fish.
A moment later, his wand was tossed out like trash and thrown in front of Snape.
When Lockhart ran over to help him up, he broke free and silently got up on his own, picking up his wand.
He stopped shouting things like "I want to kill him" or "I want him dead."
Suddenly, light appeared in those lifeless eyes.
Deep as a lake, a murderous aura lurked beneath.
"Dude, are you alright?" Lockhart didn't like this kind of somber tone.
Snape forced a strained smile. "I'm fine. I just suddenly realized what I need to do."
Previously, he wanted to kill Voldemort for Lily's sake.
Now, for the first time, he began to want to kill Voldemort.
This emotion, stemming from his own will, had not appeared in his heart for a very long time; it felt both strange and familiar.
This aligns perfectly with his own personality.
He could actually feel the presence of life.
Just like Voldemort said, "I enjoy it. I enjoy success, and I enjoy failure, although failure is not so pleasant."
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