Chapter 132: I Guess I Wasn't Wrong This Time
In the corridor outside Professor Lockhart's office at Hogwarts, amidst cries of alarm, a magical carriage pulled by four Thestrals descended from the sky and came to a steady stop in front of the door.
Professor McGonagall was furious. "This is just suspicion, Scrimgeour. How dare you take Professor Lockhart away with the protocol reserved for convicted prisoners!"
Seriously, she was moments away from pulling out her wand and incapacitating all the Aurors.
Professor McGonagall was not known for her calm temper. Many young wizards saw her as a strict, by-the-book figure, often with a stern face. In reality, most of the time, she was merely suppressing the turmoil within her heart.
During the era when Grindelwald sparked global change, her battles with his followers were textbook Gryffindor—charge, charge, fiercely.
Dumbledore once jokingly called her a wild cat whose restlessness could never be tamed, always bristling.
She didn't settle down because she was old; rather, she bore a mission. She had to guard Hogwarts, this home, and stabilize the rear for Dumbledore.
The war had never ceased, not for a single day.
She was keenly aware that Grindelwald's imprisonment in Nurmengard by Dumbledore did not signify peace for the world. On the contrary, undercurrents of conflict within wizarding society were surging, and issues between wizards and Muggles grew increasingly sharp. Some things were bound to happen eventually.
Even without Voldemort, other wizards would have risen.
She and Dumbledore were merely fortunate that Voldemort emerged during their most vigorous years.
However, even if Voldemort were to completely fail, this war was far from over.
Once internal wizarding issues were resolved, everyone's attention would turn to wizards and Muggles. The Statute of Secrecy, which Grindelwald had opposed, would be brought up again.
In fact, she and Dumbledore both agreed that Voldemort's chaos was merely an interlude to Grindelwald's opposition to the Statute of Secrecy.
Without Dumbledore (who first proposed "for the greater good"), there would have been Grindelwald. Without Grindelwald, there would have been someone else.
In this long war, no matter how wizards ultimately decided to face Muggles, the magical schools, responsible for nurturing and educating more wizarding fighting forces, would be the last bastion of wizarding society!
Just as the four founders established Hogwarts to resist the Muggle witch hunts.
But reality can sometimes be so absurd. Magical schools never considered the Ministry of Magic the last bastion of wizards, nor did the Ministry of Magic consider magical schools the last bastion of wizards. Everyone believed it was themselves, not the other.
In the power struggle between magical schools and the Ministry of Magic, figures like Umbridge, who explicitly advocated extending the Ministry's authority over magical schools, were merely a microcosm; many felt the same way.
Indeed, many places already operated this way, with the Magical Congress of the United States of America suppressing Ilvermorny School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
When those bureaucrats in the Congress decided to yield some wizarding authority to Muggles for political gain, Ilvermorny School of Witchcraft and Wizardry could no longer offer any effective resistance.
Hogwarts absolutely could not be like that!
Professor McGonagall sometimes had to suppress her agitation to avoid making things worse.
Dumbledore's prolonged absence made her sense a conspiracy. She absolutely could not act rashly without fully grasping the crux of the problem.
This made her feel almost insane with suppression.
Do they really think Transfiguration can't kill people?
Yes, it couldn't kill people; it had no offensive power, no effect at all, because she was the Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
She looked coldly at Scrimgeour, pointing at the detention carriage. "You must give me an explanation!"
Scrimgeour clearly held her in high regard but was firm in his actions. "I apologize, Professor McGonagall, but the magical carriage will ensure we only bring Professor Lockhart back. Everyone knows he keeps many terrifying Dark creatures. We simply cannot allow another incident of magical creatures causing havoc at the Ministry; that would completely strip the Ministry of its authority."
Ha.
The Ministry's authority?
Did such a thing even exist?
Professor McGonagall wanted to laugh. Her gaze turned cold, and just as she was about to speak, she suddenly heard a commotion coming from the magical carriage.
She quickly pushed past Scrimgeour and strode forward, barely able to contain herself as she saw Professor Lockhart, who was just about to enter the carriage, suddenly transform into a cloud of black smoke, darting left and right, evading the pursuing Aurors.
"Don't let him get away!" an Auror yelled. The spell he cast was dodged by the black smoke, flying towards the surrounding young wizards and causing many to shriek in terror.
Snape's face was grim as he casually waved his wand, deflecting the attack, and sneered at these fools.
"You imbeciles!" Scrimgeour couldn't take it anymore, shouting as he grabbed an Auror who was about to cast a powerful spell. "It's a Boggart, can't you tell?"
Emm...
...
In fact, among everyone present, from Ministry personnel to school staff, there were probably very few who could accurately determine on the spot that the black smoke before them was a Boggart.
The noisy scene suddenly fell silent.
Deadly quiet.
Several Aurors flushed crimson. The surrounding young wizards suddenly burst into mocking laughter in unison, sounding extremely grating.
Finally, the Boggart swiftly flew towards Scrimgeour.
Scrimgeour had no desire to deal with this Boggart. As the head Auror and a high-ranking Ministry official, he absolutely did not want everyone to see the Boggart transform into his deepest fear in public. He'd rather be killed.
But he couldn't just let it be. He had to deal with this damned Boggart; the scene couldn't remain chaotic.
Just then, a hand gently reached out from beside him and caught the flying Boggart.
Scrimgeour sharply turned his head and saw, shockingly, it was Lockhart!
"No, no, you can't come to the Ministry with me, be a good boy," Lockhart whispered to the Boggart, making it transform into a fluffy, foolishly adorable puppy—the exact form of Scrimgeour's greatest fear.
He had been about to step forward to reprimand it and even decide to apprehend the Boggart under the charge of "obstructing law enforcement," but now he stopped dead in his tracks, not uttering a sound.
This was a threat!
A silent threat!
Scrimgeour knew it. This was Lockhart's silent threat, an extremely disgusting and terrifying one.
He could only watch as Lockhart handed the puppy to Snape, who looked disgusted, and then leisurely straightened his clothes, walking past one Auror after another and entering the magical carriage.
"Let's go, fellows, hurry up," Lockhart poked his head out of the carriage, urging the Aurors.
Many of the Aurors' faces turned grim.
Scrimgeour looked at the young wizards of Hogwarts around him, a despairing thought appearing in his mind: For the next seven years, the Ministry of Magic probably won't be able to recruit any Aurors from Hogwarts.
How could these youngsters be willing to join such a humiliating department after graduation? They'd be laughed at by their classmates.
Damn it!
Whoosh~
Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh~
One Auror after another soared through the sky on broomsticks.
The Thestrals flapped their wings, pulling the magical carriage behind them, and followed into the clouds.
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry is roughly located in the Scottish Highlands in northern Britain, while the Ministry of Magic is underground in London.
The direct distance between them is at least several hundred kilometers.
"Why are we using such a stupid mode of transportation? By the time we reach the Ministry, it'll probably be dark."
Lockhart lazily slumped against the carriage window, trying to look at the scenery, but could only see vast expanses of clouds. After a while, he got bored and couldn't help but complain, "Apparition—we could just appear directly inside the Ministry."
"I'm sorry, no," Scrimgeour watched him warily. At this moment, only he and Kingsley were in the carriage, wands drawn, guarding. "This carriage is specifically to ensure that only you are in it. If any of those Dark creatures you keep appeared at the Ministry and caused havoc, Fudge would absolutely kill me."
Lockhart nodded, somewhat agreeing with the reasoning. "Indeed, you can't even handle a Boggart."
Scrimgeour almost lost his composure.
Kingsley next to him was struggling to suppress a laugh. In fact, Kingsley didn't believe Lockhart was Vincent Crabbe's killer at all. Not many people earned Dumbledore's approval, and he trusted Dumbledore's judgment.
He also somewhat agreed with using this magical conveyance. Such a secure yet slow mode of transport would buy them enough time for the Order of the Phoenix members to secretly investigate the case and for Dumbledore to appear.
"Stop staring at me," Lockhart said, somewhat exasperated by Scrimgeour's tension, gesturing towards Kingsley. "My wand's with him. You don't seriously think I can cast wandlessly, do you?"
"Hard to say!"
Scrimgeour still didn't relax his guard. "According to what you wrote in your dozen or so best-selling books, your power even surpasses Professor McGonagall's, and you're just shy of Dumbledore's level."
Huh?
What did he say?
(O_O)?
Lockhart blinked, then realized just how absurdly the original Lockhart had built his image.
He reviewed the contents of the best-selling books and suddenly realized that the original Lockhart's repeated portrayals as a "magical master" had truly inflated like a balloon, expanding with each instance.
This was clearly fraud; no wonder wizards with genuine talent held no respect for the original Lockhart.
With an image so obviously fake, he scoffed.
"Scrimgeour, you don't understand. This is called literary imagination. We always have to make stories a little more wondrous to attract more readers," Lockhart explained. "Provided I can guarantee that the magical knowledge I write in my books is accurate, it's common for many authors to embellish the content appropriately."
He casually cited several examples of historical magical masters, discussing their works used in various magical schools around the world, pointing out how certain pages and chapters employed similar techniques.
It was perfectly normal.
Is slight exaggeration a lie?
Is it not? Scrimgeour retorted with a cold sneer, following Lockhart's words. "If you're not a magical master, who can guarantee that the magical knowledge you teach everyone in your books is truly accurate?"
"If some content can be fabricated, can be exaggerated, then how many of the spells described in the book truly accurately depict their intended power?"
"Magic is no laughing matter. Misleading readers about certain spells can actually kill people!"
Scrimgeour seemed to deliberately guide the conversation, and Lockhart keenly noticed.
He chuckled, not liking these convoluted discussions, and stated directly, "So you opened a suspicion investigation on me? Let me guess, was it initiated by Corban Yaxley to the Auror Office?"
Scrimgeour was momentarily stunned. "It wasn't him."
Oh, Corban is truly cunning, even arranging something like this without leaving his own trace, Lockhart scoffed.
Kingsley beside them shifted his expression, lightly pressing a button on the carriage. A pink-purple light, like a transparent bubble, muffled the sounds from outside the carriage windows. Only then did he cover his mouth and report to his superior, "The informant Ferdinand is indeed connected to Corban Yaxley."
"Sixteen years ago, Ferdinand was almost sent to Azkaban, and Corban Yaxley secretly helped him out."
Scrimgeour's expression changed, and he nodded at Kingsley, making a mental note of this information.
He wasn't a fool. He knew that this suspicion investigation, besides being a normal report, could also be a political struggle. He absolutely did not want to become someone else's tool, especially a tool for something dark.
Moreover, shortly after the suspicion investigation began, a student murder case pointing to Lockhart occurred at Hogwarts. This was too much of a coincidence.
It was as if everything had been orchestrated.
Kingsley continued, "We all know that Corban Yaxley is very likely a Death Eater. Now many people are saying the Dark Lord has returned, and Lockhart is someone Dumbledore favors, exercising his authority to place him in the Ministry's Beast Division. We also need to be wary of getting involved in this."
"!!!"
Scrimgeour's gaze hardened, and his face changed.
This was a terrifying political vortex.
He was neither Dumbledore's "pro-Muggle faction" nor Voldemort's "pure-blood supremacist faction." In fact, he could accept either Dumbledore or Voldemort controlling the Ministry of Magic.
If Voldemort weren't such an evil figure, constantly engaging in terror and threats, he might even be more inclined to agree with Voldemort.
That powerful figure aligned more with his "Ministry centralization" philosophy. If he truly came to power, he would indeed have a way to bring all the powers that many desired, such as Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and the Sacred Twenty-Eight pure-blood families, under the Ministry's control.
No, no, I mustn't think such dangerous thoughts.
Scrimgeour frowned, wondering if he had inadvertently stepped into the whirlpool of war between these two powerful figures.
He glanced warily at the languid Lockhart, quietly instructing Kingsley, "When we reach the Ministry, you'll be responsible for watching Lockhart. You're the most steady. You should know who to guard against trying to cause trouble, and don't drag our Auror Department into this, understand?"
Kingsley nodded.
They were about to discuss something else when a violent jolt suddenly shook the entire magical carriage.
"Damn it!" Scrimgeour cursed, looking out the window. How were his subordinates guiding the convoy? How had they gotten into such turbulence?
However, before he could see clearly, a flash of magical light suddenly pierced through the clouds, instantly severing half of a Thestral's body. Blood spurted, drenching the carriage and causing it to creak as if it were burning.
"Enemy attack!!!"
The Aurors gasped. The team quickly split into two: one formed a tighter formation around the carriage, while the other moved swiftly to engage the direction of the potential enemy.
Boom!
The blood covering the carriage suddenly bubbled up, forming a thick arm that slammed heavily onto the carriage roof.
Then, one arm after another emerged, a total of eight arms, like a spider, pounding rapidly, as if trying to crack open a shell to get at the meat.
"Everyone, together, rescue Professor Lockhart!" someone shouted from the clouds, and streaks of magical light shot out. Scrimgeour immediately looked at Lockhart warily again.
But the languid Lockhart, leaning against the window, began to laugh, laughing heartily. "It's here! The change I've been waiting for! Haha~"
Then, he looked at Scrimgeour. "Corban Yaxley suggested you use this stupid magical carriage, didn't he? I guess I wasn't wrong this time, was I?"
Scrimgeour's face changed, becoming incredibly grim.
Kingsley, beside him, secretly nodded at Lockhart, confirming the information.
Heh~
Exposed, aren't you?
Lockhart stretched. "Time to get to work!"
....
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