allendalepharm Chapter 103 No! Dude?
Chapter 103 No! Dude?
Chapter 103 No! Dude?
"I was terrified! The werewolf's teeth were less than a centimeter away from me!" Ron's voice was loud, and he sounded extremely agitated. "Luckily, Harry arrived just in time and cast the Upside-Down Bell on the werewolf!"
"Ron, you don't need to be so modest. We all know you single-handedly blocked so many werewolves' attacks back then—"
People gathered in small groups, excitedly discussing and watching.
On the upperclassmen's side, Weasley was also the center of attention, with everyone discussing George and Fred's amazing trick of making stinky dung balls explode and blind the werewolves, driving these perceptive guys crazy and making them unable to identify their location by their senses.
"I declare Stinky Egg the Player of the Game! Weasley brothers have discovered the best way to deal with werewolves!"
"Please look forward to it, we plan to improve rotten eggs!"
"If Mom knew we successfully fought off the werewolves using prank props, would she allow us to continue our research?" George suddenly wondered.
"Great idea!" Fred's eyes lit up. "She'll be so proud of us!"
Cedric, standing nearby with a strange expression, couldn't help but say, "If she knew you had fought with ruthless people and dark wizards, she would only be worried."
Of all the students, only Draco stood beside Professor Snape, looking as if he wanted to say something but hesitated.
Fenrir Greyback, the werewolf!
He had heard the name from some private conversations of his father's generation. This was the werewolf leader who had previously sided with the Dark Lord. Although the Dark Lord and the Death Eaters did not think much of this werewolf, no one could deny that his contributions in some matters far exceeded those of some Death Eaters.
This person, leading an army of werewolves and several dark wizards through the Crabbe family's secret Floo Network fireplace to this secluded place, possessing magical artifacts that target Professor Lockhart's dark magical creature pets, makes it hard not to think that "these people were sent by the Dark Lord."
What are they doing here?
They're planning to kill Harry Potter, the savior?
Or should we kill Professor Snape, this Death Eater "traitor"?
If the Dark Lord really intends to purge the traitors, will his own father, as well as old Crabbe and old Goyle, also be attacked like them?
do not know.
He really wanted to ask Professor Snape, but he knew that these were all school students and it wasn't appropriate to bring up such a topic. However, he was very anxious.
Snape didn't say anything, just watched with a somber face as Lockhart comforted the pets and then started rummaging through the corpses again.
I don't know what we'll find out.
Well, Old Si probably hasn't done much looting of corpses.
The dark wizards brought various magical items for targeting dark magic creatures, but these were rare and precious items that ordinary wizards rarely had access to, and there was nowhere to buy them even if they wanted to.
Poor werewolves, who are accustomed to venturing into dark corners, always carry their most precious possessions with them. When Lockhart rummaged through them, he found mostly expensive magical materials, herbs, and all sorts of strange and unusual items.
Of course, you can never have too many Galleons.
There's also finishing off enemies, which is something many people often overlook.
It would be too much to ask young wizards to unleash cruel and offensive magic on bodies or slit the throats of corpses after they have recovered from the fighting spirit.
Even a proud wizard like Old Si sometimes makes the same mistake, thinking that everything is settled and instinctively not wanting to do anything that would lower his prestige.
Lockhart didn't see it that way; finishing off enemies and looting corpses was an excellent habit.
Yes, that makes him look very busy.
As Snape watched, Lockhart quickly disappeared from his sight. Even though he had been watching Lockhart the whole time, he only saw the guy pull out a red cloak, put it on, and then vanish in an instant!
What is this guy going to do?!
Snape was really afraid of something else that he couldn't control happening, but Lockhart just kept getting into these kinds of things.
Honestly, he was already a little scared.
Where did you go?
How could it have disappeared?
Snape glanced back at the Crabbe family's rainbowfish farm and suddenly realized something—that dark magical creature that looked like a red cloak had been at work for decades, forcing the Crabbe family, who couldn't find any rainbowfish, to abandon this valuable farm.
How to deal with it?
He knew the method, and he guessed that the young wizards present also knew the same method.
Snape thought for a moment, then instructed Draco behind him, "Go and be with your classmates."
"But Professor—" Draco wanted to say something, but seeing that Professor Snape was just looking at him with dead fish eyes, he swallowed hard and had no choice but to turn around and leave.
"Protect the Gods!"
Snape waved his wand and released the Patronus fawn. Sure enough, with the Patronus's help, he saw Lockhart again.
He knelt in front of a werewolf corpse, one hand supporting the werewolf's furry chest, the other holding a wand as if casting some kind of magic.
He quickly walked closer and finally heard Lockhart chanting a spell.
"Avada Kedavra!"
"Damn it!"
Lockhart gasped as if he'd burned his hand, nearly dropping his wand. He then nervously apologized to the wand, "I'm so sorry, I didn't realize what was happening. You don't like me using you to cast dark magic."
He gently touched the wand, as if to soothe it, then put it into the pocket of his wizard's robe and pulled out a handful of wands from a ring that had been enchanted with the Unseen Stretching Charm.
Yes, a whole bunch.
They were clearly the wands of the dark wizards and werewolves present.
Lockhart picked and chose one, then pointed the wand at the werewolf again, "Avada Kedavra—"
"What are you doing!" Snape finally couldn't help but ask.
"Holy crap!" Lockhart exclaimed in his native tongue in shock, nearly dropping his wand again. Seeing it was Snape, he breathed a sigh of relief and couldn't help but roll his eyes.
"Your fairytale adventures are over, but mine are far from over!"
"That damned rhetoric again," Snape said, suppressing his irritation. "What adventure?"
"Don't you remember your father's instructions? I must find the key to dealing with the werewolves. And the forest's instructions—I must find a way to cage the beast within me!"
Lockhart muttered to himself, "Fairy tales are fairy tales, and reality is reality. Back in reality, I've lost Wolfsbane, and the 'wildness' I forged within it isn't complete—"
"Just one step away. I've found the answer, I have to try. But then the werewolf appears right in front of me. Isn't this fate's guidance? It's clearly trying to make me put an end to this adventure—."
"It's very simple. Tom's method of creating Horcruxes is the old-school wizarding approach of 'not disciplining the wild, but just locking them up.'"
And a little bit of my understanding of memory and soul—
Snape listened to this long string of words with a frown; to be honest, he didn't understand much of it.
He only heard one crucial piece of information—Tom! Horcrux!
Having read Lockhart's first draft of "Voldemort the Mysterious Man: A Pureblood Supremacist with a Muggle Dad?", he knew what it was about!
Voldemort's method for creating Horcruxes!
"Gidero, what exactly are you trying to do?!"
Lockhart simply raised a finger to shush him, then, supporting himself on the werewolf's furry corpse, raised his wand again. "Just once, just once, and I'll know if my guess was right."
There was one rather cruel thing he didn't mention.
The werewolf in front of us wasn't a corpse; it had simply fallen into a coma.
But he didn't care; he had no pity for these werewolves who were trying to kill him and his students.
"Avada Kedavra!"
There could be no greater malice than his current state, treating life as an experimental subject to be manipulated at will.
A flash of green light appeared, and the werewolf's 'corpse' visibly trembled and twitched, its muscles beginning to relax visibly.
Snape vaguely sensed something: a powerful and complex magical force surged forth, the final cry of the werewolf's soul in this world, releasing all its emotions, desires, and everything else in its life, shattering and destroying it like a dazzling firework.
He seemed to be harnessing this power, which surged rapidly through his body.
The red cloak on her body seemed to be startled and began to struggle violently, trying to get off her back.
Lockhart knelt on the ground, head tilted back, hands hanging limply at his sides, eyes vacant as if devoid of a soul, mouth agape.
It seemed to be both lonely and sorrowful, yet also joyfully laughing, creating an indescribable eeriness.
Soon, plumes of black smoke billowed from his mouth, then from his eyes, nostrils, and ears. Then it was as if his whole body was on fire, with thick smoke rapidly rising from his body, surging like black flames.
Amidst the flames, a werewolf that looked so evil and ferocious quietly emerged, howling at the sky with a heart-wrenching cry.
"This feels so good," the werewolf groaned from the flames formed by the black smoke. The voice sounded like Lockhart's, yet it was so unfamiliar. He looked down at Snape.
"Severus, this feels so good, do you want to try it too? Emotions are like wild beasts; you can't lock them up in your heart and hold them captive, otherwise they'll bark incessantly in their cage, disturbing your mind and giving you no peace for a moment. Nor can you let them out of their cage and let them run wild like a runaway horse—"
"!!!" Snape's eyes narrowed, his gaze turning dark and cold. Before he could say anything, a curse suddenly rang in his ears—"Bullshit!"
He whirled around and was horrified to see, through a cloud of silver smoke, a wild and spirited horse angrily yelling at the werewolf in mid-air, "You're the wild horse! Your whole family are wild horses!"
As he spoke, the horse's head turned to look at Snape. "Don't listen to him. This beauty must be carefully kept in your heart, allowing it to brew into the finest wine!"
"Jiajiajia~~" The werewolf looked down at the horse and Snape, laughing maniacally, his scarlet eyes filled with malice. He mocked, "What if it turns into green apple cider vinegar? It'll be sour and bitter, oh, or maybe even poison!"
Snape had had enough!
Really!
If Lockhart were Voldemort, he could draw his wand and cast the Killing Curse on him without any qualms.
Avada Kedavra!
Oh, and then the whole world is peaceful!
Please, please let me hide back in my sack, don't leave me exposed to the biting cold wind. Snape felt as if his whole body was being torn apart, his heart icy cold.
Fortunately, the chaotic scene didn't last long.
A pale, translucent figure, seemingly devoid of life, floated up, looking somewhat like a ghost, but it was definitely not a ghost.
Snape was absolutely certain.
Whose ghost is five meters tall?!
The enormous ghost looked down at them, grabbed the werewolf from the black smoke with one hand and the horse from the silver smoke with the other, and forcefully stuffed them into its chest.
After it was put in, it seemed to come alive, and began to radiate such vibrant colors.
The giant ghost was clearly still not satisfied. It turned around, grabbed the trembling red cloak, and opened its mouth to stuff it inside.
Perhaps it was the red cloak shaking too violently, causing him to writhe frantically in a death struggle. This made him unwilling to experience Dumbledore's pleasure of eating piles of cockroaches.
Perhaps he wasn't really willing to absorb this thing into his soul.
In the end, the giant ghost merely shook its cloak forcefully, causing it to grow rapidly in the wind and drape itself over its body before collapsing and disappearing into Lockhart's kneeling body.
"Oh~~~"
Lockhart groaned, "Severus, this feels good, you—"
Suddenly, a wand appeared in his field of vision, pressed forcefully against his eyes. Looking up, he saw Snape trembling, gritting his teeth and muttering curses, "You damned bastard, dare to say another word, even just one, and I'll kill you!"
"!!!"
Lockhart paused, blinked, and leaned back. "Severus, what are you doing? My leg just went numb. Could you help me up?"
What are you doing?!
Is it really that hard to help someone up?
People can actually laugh when they're speechless.
Snape laughed, laughing until tears streamed down his face, and he knelt down, whimpering like a lonely wolf.
No!
Dude?
Lockhart stared at this guy, genuinely bewildered. "Are you—are you alright?"
Snape was in a terrible state; he seemed to have completely broken down, gripping the ground with both hands, oblivious to the thorns piercing his skin, just like a werewolf wailing.
Lockhart was stunned.
Seriously, who turned into a werewolf?
Shouldn't it be me?
Oh, he realized it—the emotional influence unique to dark magic creatures!
Just as a Dementor's mere presence can cause life to wither and dim, and just as a golden retriever can frighten living beings to the point of paralysis, his guardian spirits, the horse and the werewolf, probably carry the same unique influence.
One moment it's intense joy and happiness, the next it's a vicious, bone-chilling loneliness—no one could bear to experience that.
Moreover, this should be a solution targeting specific characteristics, as Severus's current magic resistance in this area is frighteningly weak.
Old Si, he's broken down.
Lockhart sighed, turned over and sat down next to Snape, looking somewhat helpless.
He knew that Snape wasn't a good person. People couldn't cover up the evil deeds he had done just because of his deep affection and his dark past of being bullied. Fortunately, Lockhart himself wasn't a good person either, and he made friends with this first friend since his transmigration without any psychological purism.
Everyone is the same; there is a vicious side as well as a beautiful side.
That's life.
It's very difficult.
Lockhart gestured to the sack-like dark magic creature, which had become docile, to expand its boundaries and enclose both him and Snape, so that the students wouldn't see the professor looking pitiful and to save face for the old man.
Cry.
Perhaps this crying is the reward Snape has gained from this adventure.
that's nice!
Everyone has their own gains.
Lockhart sat down happily next to the weeping slug Snape and began to take stock of the dazzling array of things he had obtained from the raid.