Chapter 116: He's Been Kicked Out of Humanity!
Lockhart was very clear about the direction his own path was heading.
It wasn't the cunning calculations of Ministry officials, nor the frantic pursuit of fame and fortune, getting lost in it.
His answer had always been firm, unwavering—Magic! Only Magic!
He used his Boggart to clearly perceive the emotions of everyone around him, which were incredibly complex, and he clearly realized that he was currently deeply embroiled in a terrifying vortex.
Failing to resolve the werewolf problem, or being incapable of resolving it, would cause him to suffer the backlash of the fame and fortune he had previously pursued. That backlash would undoubtedly be enormous. He believed Corban Yaxley definitely had a way to make that happen.
But what if he publicly resolved the ruthless werewolf problem?
It might seem like he would gain more prestige and cheers from his fans, but don't forget, how would Minister for Magic Fudge, Head Auror Scrimgeour, and the surrounding Aurors view him?
Oh, you gained fame, and we all became the background villains in your glorious story, is that it?
A bunch of incompetent, foolish Ministry employees, right?
Stepping on everyone's reputation, even their careers, to gain everything for himself would also bring him a large number of people who disliked him.
So, what should he do?
In his previous life, a great figure had instructed people on how to deal with such a predicament: "You hit your way, I hit mine."
So, Lockhart's answer was very clear.
Magic!
It was that simple.
He held his wand, easily communicating with his "Sack-Hood." This red cloak had been quietly protecting him and the students throughout this global book-signing tour, and it continued to function even in the Ministry of Magic Atrium.
This confirmed that it could still function within the Ministry of Magic building, at least on this floor of the Atrium.
At his call, the red cloak quickly expanded, encompassing everyone in the entire first-floor Atrium, with the sole exception of Corban Yaxley.
And then there was his recent exchange with his favorite student, Tom Riddle, about his vicious werewolf magic, which was similar to but entirely opposite of the Patronus Charm. Tom had analyzed how emotions worked at the spell-casting level, teaching him some simple tricks.
For example...
A shadow of a vicious werewolf quietly covered the werewolf that the Aurors were controlling with the Levitation Charm.
"Everyone, please listen to me!"
Lockhart stepped forward, compassionately helping the old woman up. He looked at the surrounding fans, reporters, and Ministry officials, his expression sincere. As everyone watched expectantly, just as he was about to say something, he was suddenly interrupted by a terrifying roar.
"ROAR~~~"
A terrifying werewolf howl echoed throughout the entire first-floor Atrium, as if carrying a powerful predatory aura that involuntarily sent shivers down everyone's spines.
The wild roar, its voice imbued with fearsome magic, even made the faces of the Aurors present, who had dealt with werewolves many times, turn pale. It was a power they had never felt before.
Stronger than any ordinary werewolf.
Accompanying the roar, the werewolf's body swelled again, its already tall and robust frame stretching considerably, powerful muscles bulging, looking extremely ferocious.
The werewolf broke free from the Aurors' Levitation Charm control, forcefully knocking away several Aurors in front of it, and then leaped high into the air, pouncing on the one prey it could see: Corban Yaxley.
Corban Yaxley had no time to react. He probably would never understand why, with so many people present and him standing in an inconspicuous corner, the werewolf targeted only him.
He didn't even have time to draw his wand from the specially designed inner pocket of his suit jacket before the werewolf tackled him. Accompanied by a piercing scream, a large chunk of flesh was forcibly torn from his shoulder by the werewolf's bite.
It's over!
His face suddenly turned extremely pale.
He had been bitten by a werewolf!
He was going to become a disgusting and lowly werewolf!
No, it wasn't about whether he would turn into a werewolf; he first had to survive the werewolf's mouth to even have a chance to become one.
"Help me!" he wailed loudly.
The Aurors finally reacted, quickly waving their wands and attacking the werewolf.
However, the werewolf's magical resistance was incredibly strong, not to mention it was currently imbued with power from Lockhart's vicious werewolf magic. Ordinary attack spells had little effect.
The scene immediately descended into chaos. Many people were screaming in fear and running away. Reporters like Rita excitedly documented this major news. Spells from Aurors and other Ministry employees zipped through the crowd, occasionally hitting innocent people, causing even greater disorder.
"Quick, everyone hide behind me!"
Lockhart anxiously called out to his fans, shielding the young wizards, and drew his wand, pointing it at the werewolf.
He quickly waved his wand, but the spell was so complex that he couldn't stop the tragedy in time.
Soon, the werewolf had completely bitten through Corban Yaxley's shoulder, tearing off his entire left arm.
Blood spurted.
The Aurors' spells finally took effect. One Auror cast a golden fishing net, quickly entangling the werewolf, and another cast a spell on Corban Yaxley to move him away from the werewolf.
However, such actions could only buy a little time. Just as everyone finally breathed a sigh of relief, thinking they had regained control of the werewolf, with another roar from the werewolf, the golden fishing net on its body was instantly torn to shreds by its sharp claws.
"Howl~~~"
The werewolf roared, its wolf eyes completely turning black. This blackness violently flickered, like a ball of black flame.
It grew another size larger, looking like a fire dragon, ferocious and filled with rage.
Its senses were incredibly keen. Although it couldn't see the Aurors, it could instinctively charge in their direction.
Lockhart's red cloak, after all, didn't completely hide everyone. As the werewolf rampaged, many Aurors were sent flying by its immense muscular strength.
The scene was completely out of control.
Fudge's face in the crowd was as pale as death. He clearly realized that this matter was completely botched. It's over!
He would definitely be held responsible for this. His political career was finished! Not even Dumbledore could save him!
He looked at the Aurors around him, struggling but appearing so incompetent, and felt a dizzying sensation. He dared not imagine how much impact this horrific event would ultimately have.
How many people would turn into werewolves because of this incident?
He didn't know.
He only knew, it was over.
But soon he stopped thinking about these people, because he discovered in horror that the werewolf, seemingly blinded and crashing everywhere, was gradually charging in his direction.
He glanced around anxiously, trying to find a figure he could rely on, finally settling his gaze on Scrimgeour, the head of the Auror office, whom he believed to be the most powerful person present.
At this moment, Scrimgeour was casting a spell. Green serpent shadows coiled together to form a gigantic full-length mirror. Beneath the mirror, its four legs were twisted snakeheads, mouths agape, biting the ground. The mirror surface was encircled by eerie blood-red patterns.
He quickly ran behind Scrimgeour, praying that this defensive magic could block the werewolf.
But he suddenly heard Scrimgeour shouting to his subordinates, "Quick, lure the werewolf to me!"
"!!!" Fudge was stunned. What? This isn't a defensive spell?
The werewolf soon charged over, seemingly not seeing the mirror, and slammed into it with a tremendous resounding crash.
Bang~
As the full-length mirror shimmered with dazzling light, streaks of blood quickly ripped across the ruthless figure, and blood splattered.
Scrimgeour quickly waved his wand, collecting the blood, and had a green snake extending from the full-length mirror open its mouth and swallow it, to prevent the highly infectious lycanthropy-carrying blood from contaminating anyone.
"Well done!"
Fudge shouted excitedly, but then suddenly saw the werewolf roaring furiously, stretching its long and muscular arms, sharp claws extending, reaching for the full-length mirror.
Pop~
The full-length mirror was quickly torn to shreds by the werewolf, turning into streams of light and disappearing.
Now, Fudge and Scrimgeour were completely exposed to the werewolf.
Fudge swallowed hard, suddenly feeling a surge of despair—he realized that among the wizards who would contract lycanthropy next, he might be counted among them.
"Growl~~~~"
The werewolf roared furiously at them, and then charged again.
They're dead!
Fudge's eyes widened, filled with utter despair.
But at that moment, a figure swiftly appeared in front of them, his back to them, waving his wand at the tall, robust werewolf with such light elegance. "Homorphus Charm!"
It was Lockhart!
With a light flick of his wand, the werewolf's body suddenly trembled and began to shrink rapidly. Its wolf head quickly dwindled, and its wolf fur swiftly receded.
In just an instant, the werewolf transformed into a seemingly honest middle-aged man, who then thudded onto the ground in front of them.
Lockhart lightly flicked his wand again, and a green vine quickly wrapped around the middle-aged man's wrist, completely binding him.
Finally, the chaos was brought to an end.
Fudge looked at Lockhart with immense gratitude, repeatedly thanking him. Then, suddenly remembering something, he urged Scrimgeour, who had been completely ineffective, "Quick, check immediately! Everyone bitten or scratched by the werewolf must be registered!"
Scrimgeour had apparently noticed this earlier than him, or rather, he had been keeping an eye on it throughout the werewolf's attack.
He looked at Fudge with a strange expression. "Only one, Corban Yaxley!"
"Ha~ just one?" Fudge chuckled excitedly, then tried his best to suppress his smile, making his expression appear mournful. "How unfortunate. Is Corban Yaxley alright?"
Scrimgeour shook his head with a sigh. "There is still no cure for lycanthropy."
That's too bad.
Fudge secretly smiled as he watched Corban Yaxley groaning in pain on the ground, watching this arrogant fellow who constantly prided himself on being from one of the "Sacred Twenty-Eight Pure-Blood families," so proud that he thought everyone else was trash. From now on, he probably wouldn't dare mention "bloodline" again.
Corban, ah, he's been kicked out of humanity!
....
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