Chapter 125: The Norwegian Ridgeback Curse
The most striking item in the secret room behind the Crabbe family's coffin lid was that scepter.
Just as modern stone Pensieves evolved from "skulls" to "crystal skulls," wizards didn't initially use wands resembling oversized chopsticks.
From the earliest days of using magical materials to aid spellcasting, and the subsequent long historical dispute between the "Animal School" and "Plant School" over which was the correct path to spellcasting, to the later rise of the Alchemist School, which greatly expanded the depth and breadth of spellcasting mediums, the evolution of the wand also underwent a long period of exploration.
The scepter was the most iconic research achievement of the Alchemist era.
"It imprisons the soul of a Norwegian Ridgeback."
Crabbe motioned for Lockhart to look at a wizard's robe propped up on a weapon rack behind the scepter. "This wizard's robe is made from its dragon hide and giant nerves, and it possesses powerful magical resistance."
Lockhart approached curiously and saw a sign below the wizard's robe that read: CAUTION: 13 CRABBES HAVE DIED FROM THIS DRAGON'S CURSE!
"When I was little, the adults wouldn't let me touch this set of robes and scepter. A witch who visited our home said that the Crabbes benefited from fire and were also destroyed by fire; they were a family cursed by fire."
Yes.
Lockhart could feel it.
An extremely restless anger gathered on the wizard's robe and scepter, like the suppressed and muffled feeling of a volcano about to erupt.
He seemed to vaguely feel scorching heat and the pungent smell of sulfur, and he himself began to feel restless.
But Crabbe seemed to actually enjoy the influence of these magical items. His foolish, simple face gained a few hints of liveliness, as if his soul had returned, and he was less "dull" than Lockhart's previous impression of him.
It was quite peculiar. Lockhart noticed that Crabbe found it easier to express his views clearly here, becoming somewhat more articulate.
It was like a fish finally reaching the ocean and being able to breathe, that unique feeling of exhilaration and ease.
But even so, Crabbe still seemed very afraid of the wizard's robe and scepter before him, motioning for Lockhart to look at the painting on the wall behind the robe.
The kind that moved.
In the painting, a middle-aged wizard, wearing this very robe and holding the scepter, was casting a spell. Around him, terrifying high-temperature flames swirled, and within the flames, fire-mimicking dragons resembling Norwegian Ridgebacks flew out.
"This is how the ancestor cast Fiendfyre."
Fiendfyre, one of the top Dark Arts spells, its most terrifying aspect was that the flames it released possessed powerful cursing power, capable of harming souls, and could even burn away souls protected by Horcruxes.
This magic had an interesting characteristic: a unique growth capability. When first cast, it was just a small patch of fire or even a single flame, but it would quickly grow, eventually turning into a monstrous conflagration capable of burning down a city.
Not only that, it also possessed Transfiguration abilities. Within the sea of fire, various forms of flame monsters would be mimicked. It was important to note that the magic Gellert Grindelwald cast in Paris was not Fiendfyre, but essentially a defensive "Protego Horribilis."
Clearly, this top wizarding powerhouse had already thoroughly understood the principles of Fiendfyre, knowing how to make other spells exhibit such characteristics.
Lockhart gazed in awe at the spellcasting scene in the painting. The Fiendfyre controlled by that Crabbe in the painting only produced flame monsters in the form of Norwegian Ridgebacks. This was definitely a sign of extremely high control ability.
"This ancestor was the first person to be consumed by the fire. He was burned to death by countless Norwegian Ridgeback flames he himself created."
Crabbe's introduction had a unique absurdity. "From this ancestor onwards, the Crabbes began to realize they were suffering from the Norwegian Ridgeback's curse."
So...
This painting wasn't meant to display Crabbe's power, but to warn future generations?
Lockhart's expression immediately turned peculiar.
"My mother used to mock this when I was little. She said she wasn't surprised at all." Crabbe retracted his gaze from the painting. "She said that when she was little, she heard that a wizard's power came from dealing with demons, and eventually the wizard's soul would be taken by the demon. The Crabbes' souls were taken by the fire dragon."
Emmm...
A standard wizarding fairy tale.
Lockhart didn't know what to say.
"You can take this set of wizard's robes and the scepter." Crabbe again brought up the terms of the transaction, his face still a little flushed. Lockhart smiled and didn't respond, just followed him as they continued to wander around the not-so-small room.
Crabbe couldn't explain much about most of the family collections here, mainly because he was only a second-year student, and even though the family had generational education, his parents died too suddenly to give proper instructions.
These items were mainly divided into three parts.
Firstly, magical documents and books, but not many, only two shelves.
One shelf was entirely dedicated to Fiendfyre, while the other was casually filled with various scrolls, parchments, books, copper-plate books, and even a chipped stone tablet.
Secondly, some valuable magical materials carefully preserved with magic, and most of them were related to fire. Lockhart even saw a large glass jar filled with a substance resembling plant ashes, labeled: "Ashes left behind when a Phoenix resurrects, usable for resurrection rituals."
Finally, there were various magical artifacts. These items were dazzling and covered everything imaginable.
Among them was a stone carving of a Niffler holding a stone tablet. After confirming that no protective magic had been applied to it, Lockhart tried touching it. Platinum-colored lines began to emerge on the tablet.
Oh, it was a magical effect similar to the one on the coffin lid.
These lines quickly outlined the name "Gilderoy Lockhart" on the tablet, rapidly extending upwards with two more names, and then continuously extending further, until the tablet was quickly filled with numerous names.
"This is the Book of Lineage. My mother specifically showed it to me and told me that if I ever had children, I must let them touch this stone tablet." Crabbe was rummaging through something in the corner, looked up, and explained, though still confused, "I don't know why we have to do this."
Lockhart chuckled, clearly knowing what was going on, but this kind of thing wasn't suitable to explain to a child.
He quickly stopped smiling.
His gaze sharpened, fixed on the familiar characters that suddenly appeared in the corner of the stone tablet.
Yes, familiar characters.
Luoya.
The two characters "Luoya" quickly extended into two platinum-colored lines, and two familiar names were rapidly being outlined.
His hand trembled, and he finally closed his eyes with a sense of loss, letting go of the stone tablet, which caused the writing to dissipate again.
Sigh...
In his previous life, he was an orphan, and for a time he had an obsession with wanting to know who his parents were.
He never thought that something he had no chance of knowing in his previous life would actually find an answer here.
But he no longer wanted to know the answer.
Lockhart opened his eyes again, his gaze lingering on the stone tablet, which had returned to its ordinary appearance. He remained silent for a while, finally dismissing it from his mind and saying with a smile, "Then you must live well, marry, and have children, to continue the next generation of the Crabbe family."
Crabbe, being just a second-year student, wouldn't think that far ahead. He held a silver locket in front of him, looking bewildered by Lockhart's words.
"I don't even know if I'll live until then." Under the influence of the wizard's robe and scepter, his mind had apparently become much sharper, allowing him to say such a thing.
The two quickly walked out of the coffin-lid secret room. After closing the door, the coffin lid surprisingly turned back into an ordinary wooden board, without any trace of magic.
If one didn't know the secret of using the Alohomora charm to open this door, ordinary people would probably never find the Crabbe family's truly valuable collection.
Outside, Crabbe again observed the goblins guarding the vault. Clearly, these ancient pure-blood families would teach their descendants to be wary of these greedy fellows.
He opened the locket, which contained a neatly folded piece of strange leather, resembling plastic sheeting.
As it quickly unfolded, it completely transformed into a fabric measuring two by three meters.
Lockhart helped him spread the fabric on the ground, placed the coffin lid onto the fabric, and then folded the fabric again, slowly folding and stuffing the fabric, which enveloped the coffin lid, back into the small silver locket.
It wasn't an Undetectable Extension Charm; there was no wizarding magic on it, no trace of magic at all, which was truly amazing.
Crabbe solemnly handed the locket to Lockhart, opened his mouth to say something, but finally whispered, "Don't let Draco know, whatever you do."
Lockhart nodded with a serious expression. "Of course!"
Regardless of whether he was facing a child at this moment, the other person had so trustingly given him the family's most precious possessions. He couldn't betray that trust; he had this sense of responsibility.
"This is just safekeeping, child." He didn't want the atmosphere to be so heavy, as if the Crabbe family would become extinct tomorrow. He looked seriously at Crabbe. "You must also grow up quickly. Your parents are watching you."
Crabbe scratched his head somewhat foolishly, his face troubled. "But I've always been clumsy."
Lockhart didn't mind. "Does a wizard's power, or lack thereof, really have anything to do with being clumsy or clever?"
Hmm, it did have some relation.
The powerful wizards in modern wizarding society all had sharp minds. Not to mention Dumbledore and the like, even the good performers among current students—Percy, Cedric, the Weasley twins, Hermione, and so on—all seemed very intelligent.
But ancient wizards weren't like that. Historical records depicted those wizards and witches as somewhat brain-damaged and neurotic.
Hmm, while such a description was poor, Newt Scamander and Sybill Trelawney were typical examples.
"Can I really do it?" Crabbe was always so insecure.
Lockhart ruffled his head. "Yes, I'm very sure!"
.....
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