Chapter 148: We Are Friends
Snape's future was one where his soul became great through completeness. Lockhart's future, on the other hand, had many possibilities.
He stood at a ten-way crossroads. Looking around, each path led to various wondrous manifestations.
Some appeared to be magical constructs, others potions, and there were also magical books, as well as towering Patronuses reaching into the clouds—a dazzling array, everything imaginable.
Lockhart's choice was made without hesitation.
He headed straight for the magical books, harvesting abundant fruits from the future in advance; this was simply too exhilarating.
However, he was soon met with an elbow from his own mind.
It wasn't the werewolf trying to snatch the magical books from him. Instead, it was a tall, mature figure—the Forest Witch. She stood in front of him, saying, "I opened the path of Wild Call magic for you, allowing you to walk the Spiritual Way. You clearly benefited from it, otherwise, you wouldn't have invented the 'Thunderstorm Wildfire' spell so quickly."
"Gilderoy Lockhart," she asked, "What about your promise to me? To help me rescue Gellert Grindelwald? Did you do it?"
"Did you try your best?"
Lockhart felt a pang of shame. He hadn't yet done it; he currently didn't know where to start.
"I always remember, Ms. Benitez." His expression was very sincere. "But as you know, it's not an easy matter."
The Forest Witch looked at him steadily, then nodded. "I know. Because I am simply the voice in your heart. I'm just reminding you not to forget."
With that, she dissipated like smoke.
Taking a few more steps, another figure blocked his path.
It was a mixed-race Forest witch in a colorful robe, her eyes hazy, merely murmuring, "Mr. Lockhart, do you know who stole my most precious life?"
Lockhart's gaze turned cold. Looking up, figures rapidly appeared one after another—powerful wizards whose memories his original self had stolen.
"The person who stole your memories is dead. Your memories are indeed with me, but they are my spoils of war. Whether or not I return them to you, whether or not I compensate you, depends solely on my mood, on my moral standards."
Lockhart coldly looked at these figures. "I owe you nothing. Dare to block my path, and I'll kill each and every one of you without any burden on my conscience!"
The vicious werewolf cackled beside him. "Exactly, exactly! Being a good person is too hard. The mind needs to fly freely. Why carry so much baggage?"
These figures were clearly very afraid of the werewolf's presence, frantically retreating. "We don't want them anymore, we don't want them."
"This is a good time to solve the problem." The werewolf looked eager, licking its sharp fangs. "Let me kill them all, shall I?"
"You know this will work, right?"
"You've been waiting for magic to blossom. Now, in this passage filled with time and soul power, we can solve these problems once and for all. From now on, they can no longer influence you."
"Bullshit!" Little Horse sneered beside them. "Killing solves nothing, Gilderoy. Dark Arts are eroding your mind. If you let Little Wolf kill these people now, you will forever bear these debts of sin!"
"Why are you always against me?!" The werewolf glared fiercely at Little Horse.
Little Horse snorted, tossing its flowing mane, too lazy to bother with him, and looked at Lockhart. "See? It's really Amycus Carrow, the Death Eater whose memories you took, and the Dark Lord's spawn, Tom Riddle. Are they here? No, right? Because you feel no apology for what you did."
"This isn't them holding you accountable; this is you holding yourself accountable. You need to actually change something in the real world, truly step into life, instead of just making sure your mind holds no grudges."
"You are not a bad person, Gilderoy; otherwise, I couldn't exist."
"Since that's the case, are you truly willing to let magic completely solve everything?"
Lockhart was silent for a moment, then nodded, looking at the wizards whose memories his original self had stolen. "That's right, my original self stole your memories. I hold no apology for this, so my werewolf wants to kill you."
"But I am a bad person. I crave adventure, I crave to digest your magnificent lives, so I do feel some apology. I will make some changes, find a way to return these memories to you, but this doesn't mean I am willing to let you pose a threat to me."
Lockhart said no more, after all, this was merely his own internal struggle, not these people truly appearing here to hold him accountable.
He needed some time to gain more magical abilities to control a more complex life.
So he walked among these dozen or so wizards, and no one could stop him. He went straight to the magical book and reached out to take it.
The title was very interesting: The Cultivation of Dark Magical Creatures by Gilderoy Lockhart.
The Cultivation of Dark Magical Creatures.
This was the direction of magical research Lockhart had chosen. He had quietly embarked on this path, and his companions had all benefited from it.
But this particular magical book was clearly precious—it existed in the future, where his future self explored a feasible path and compiled it into a book.
"Nice~!"
He couldn't help but exclaim again, "Severus is amazing, creating such an incredible potion."
Oh, on that note, he thought of the great Grindelwald.
Seers were an extremely rare existence among wizards, and equally absurd in the eyes of someone like him who craved magic. Imagine, he would only need to decide to start researching a spell, then just look into the future to know the effect of that spell within the limits of his own ability, then directly skip the research process and pick this abundant fruit.
Perhaps he should try to contact this great wizard as soon as possible.
Oh!
No, no!
Lockhart shook his head, quickly snapping out of that thought.
He realized that he, too, was currently being influenced by Severus's "Life Unhinged" potion. The potion's power was trying to drag him into the unhinged state of his life as well.
Reason told him that Grindelwald's escape from Nurmengard would only cause his otherwise somewhat controlled future life to spiral out of control.
He hadn't solved some of his own problems yet and shouldn't make his environment even messier.
No need to rush.
One step at a time.
He had plenty of life ahead of him.
....
Whoosh~ Whoosh~ Whoosh~
The potion liquid echoed like tides.
Lockhart and Snape reappeared in the office. They didn't know how much time they had spent in that magical dark passage, yet back in the real world, sunlight still streamed through the window, as if no time had passed.
Snape quickly stepped forward, waving his wand, and pulled a small glass vial from a nearby shelf, collecting the potion liquid floating in the air.
Then he grasped it so firmly.
"Welcome to Life Unhinged," Lockhart said with a smile, looking at him. "You've clearly made a choice."
Severus's life adventure had officially begun~
Snape lowered his head, looking at the regret potion in his hand, then glanced out the window with a deep gaze. His face was filled with complex emotions: some loss, some wistfulness, and also a faint surge of hope and fervor.
Finally, he smiled at Lockhart. "Gilderoy, thank you."
"We are friends." Lockhart laughed heartily, genuinely happy to see his friend's state.
....
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