Chapter 154: The Night of the Full Moon
The lecture wasn't long. The study of the mind is an extremely complex and conceptually vague subject, difficult to explain clearly in just one or two classes.
What's more, it truly requires a deep understanding of life to genuinely grasp.
Regarding the mechanisms of the mind, there are actually many interesting distinctions. For instance, there are three main categories most closely linked to the id, and seven categories linked to life activities, with further complex content extending from these.
Ghosts formed after wizards die, souls that journey into the slow embrace of death, Patronuses emerging from emotions, how blood magic influences the social sphere of the mind through connections between different minds, and so on—all are profoundly intricate subjects.
The part Lockhart explained could only be described as leading the young wizards into the threshold of the mind, memory, soul, and existence of life. If they were willing to ponder these aspects in their future lives, they would naturally understand the remaining knowledge.
Because this knowledge isn't human-defined; it's an inherent function of the mind. All naming, if scrutinized, contains inaccuracies. It cannot be articulated, cannot be fully described; it can only be experienced.
"Your minds inherently possess all information. If you are willing, step into your mind, and it will naturally reveal itself to you."
Lockhart concluded the small class.
For now, he only needed the young wizards and Ms. Mary to know this much. It would help them search for Ms. Mary's lost life within Corban Yaxley's mind.
Next, he led the young wizards and Ms. Mary towards the staircase in the corner, bypassing the misty second floor, climbing a vertical ladder through a trapdoor, and finally arriving at a spacious laboratory on the third floor.
No one even knew if the third floor was truly spacious, as it was still filled with thick mist.
Only a small area next to the trapdoor held a peculiar-looking old-fashioned interrogation chair, to which Corban Yaxley was bound.
He didn't look well; his pupils were unfocused, his head tilted to one side. Everyone could simultaneously see a jumbled mix of expressions—joy, anger, sorrow, and happiness—on his face.
"His mind has been opened."
Lockhart explained, "This is what I was just telling you: the brain and mind are vastly different, yet they have many overlaps."
"We can enter the depths of his mind through his thoughts to explore the part he stole."
As he spoke, he looked at Ms. Mary. "I must solemnly ask you; I believe I've just clearly explained the dangers of the mind. Memories aren't simply combinations of information; they are traces of life. And when we enter someone else's life traces, our own life traces will also be affected."
"This will be an extremely dangerous journey!"
Ms. Mary hesitated. She had initially thought that some of her memories were merely obscured by mist, and that sweeping away the mist would naturally return them to her memory, or that it would be like using a Pensieve, simply extracting and re-inserting memories.
But in the lecture, Lockhart had thoroughly explained the dangers of this.
When these memories became part of someone else's life traces, they inevitably became tainted with that person's information. Re-inserting them into her own life traces could lead to terrible things.
Poof~
By the interrogation chair's fireplace, Crabbe ignited the Soul Bonfire. He was becoming increasingly skilled at this spell, performing it quite adeptly.
"This Soul Fire will protect our souls from external forces eroding our minds," Lockhart explained to the somewhat timid young wizards beside him. "Plus, all of you can effectively cast the Patronus Charm. I believe as long as you aren't greedy for others' memories, you won't be affected at all."
However, this didn't include Goyle, who was the only one of the six who still couldn't cast a Patronus Charm. He was currently assigned a potion, standing by nervously, ready to help everyone if needed.
Crabbe, on the other hand, was already able to emit some faint silver light with his Patronus Charm, but he needed to maintain the Soul Bonfire in its optimal state and had no intention of entering Corban's life traces with them.
Harry, Hermione, Ron, and Draco, the four youngsters, were all a bit nervous, tightly clutching their wands.
"So I must ask you one last time."
Lockhart looked deeply at Ms. Mary. "Do you truly need to recover your missing life? If it's just out of dissatisfaction with what's missing, then I am willing to help you. I can write these details down, presenting everything you've experienced in written form."
"I don't know—"
Ms. Mary's face was pale. She murmured weakly, looking at Corban, "My bloodline flows with a terrible curse, which makes me unable to find love my entire life." (Mentioned in Chapter 141)
"I know I must have loved someone in the past, but I don't remember who I loved. I only know that this love did not end well. It was cursed. It left me completely."
Ms. Mary's eyes were somewhat vacant as she looked forward. "I just want to know who I loved back then, and why it ended without a conclusion. Was it because he didn't love me, or because he died or something happened and he couldn't continue to love me—"
"As for that wonderful past life, I don't actually need to know it. My intuition told me that during that time, I lived a very tired and depressed life. I found liberation in losing those memories."
Yes.
Lockhart, of course, knew this.
The original Gilderoy Lockhart was clever. Stealing memories was partly about magical ability and partly about understanding human nature.
The Forest Witch was deeply ashamed of her past as a "wild woman" in the Amazon rainforest and was madly infatuated with the glamour of Muggle modern cities. She had no desire to recall that past life. This was the most appropriate memory theft.
Because the other person didn't actually want it.
Of course, this didn't mean taking without permission was right; it simply meant that such a sinful theft was carried out more smoothly.
Ms. Mary's previous relationship with Lockhart was actually quite simple: a social outsider with some ambition pursuing a celebrity. Her infatuation with Lockhart was less about genuine adoration and more about her obsession with Lockhart's successful climb up the social ladder into high society.
This was a distant dream for her, a self-deceptive infatuation with the internationally renowned author Lockhart. She approached him, hoping to use him as her own stepping stone.
This was not a beautiful story.
A trickster and a thief—neither party would have a good outcome.
It was just that Ms. Mary was willing to give a little more. She didn't mind becoming the wife of the famous Lockhart, enjoying the status of success he brought, and she was also willing to be a good wife and mother.
The human heart is sometimes extremely complex. It's difficult to judge whether love with an agenda is still love. Many people cannot confront their own true feelings. A self-deception can be maintained until the moment of death, ending as the most beautiful love story.
One can live an untrue life, but still a beautiful one, like an actor on life's stage, faithfully playing their assigned role, never deviating.
"I'm sure!" Ms. Mary finally decided.
But she would probably be disappointed. The Gilderoy Lockhart who existed in her life's traces was already dead. And because of the current Lockhart's replacement, he had completely lost his connection to society. She couldn't possibly find that Lockhart from her past life traces.
"Very well, everyone gather around Corban and sit down. We're ready to begin."
Lockhart waved his wand, and lines outlined by vines began to appear on the ground, directing everyone to sit in a vine-woven circle and place various items at other points along these lines.
First, an antique grandfather clock. Lockhart had found this in one of Corban's safe houses. It was an extremely powerful Time Converter from a certain era, collected by the Yaxley family and preserved to this day, never appearing in Ministry of Magic records.
He also pulled out a small clock with an adjusted alarm, bought from a Muggle street, simply for checking the time.
"Ten more minutes—"
Lockhart murmured, "The time for the full moon will be here soon."
As he spoke, he deftly arranged more items, finally looking at Crabbe. "Vincent, you can do this, right?"
Crabbe nodded vigorously, thumping his chest. "Don't worry, Professor, I've been practicing the Soul Bonfire."
He practiced very diligently.
Of course, for him, it wasn't really "diligent" in the usual sense. Every night, he would secretly sneak out of his dormitory, go to the common room, light the bonfire in the fireplace, and stare blankly at his parents in the flames.
"Good," Lockhart then looked at Goyle.
Goyle seemed a bit nervous. Seeing the professor look his way, he quickly gestured to the potion bottle in his hand. "If someone starts yelling, drip one drop of this potion into their eyes!"
The potion's ingredients weren't complex; it was essentially Swooping Evil venom, possessing a powerful Memory Charm effect.
It could erase or obscure unpleasant experiences from one's life journey.
Lockhart was willing to place some trust in Goyle, but he also had a backup plan: the Swooping Evil watching everyone from the surrounding mist. If Goyle failed, the Swooping Evil would intervene.
"Excellent."
Giving these two children significant responsibilities, compared to accompanying them on an adventure requiring more astute responses, such tasks would be more beneficial for their growth.
"Then, let's go—"
Lockhart gently waved his wand, and a silver light rapidly filled everything around them. Within the silver light, a strong darkness faintly permeated.
Obliviate!
The silent spell quickly swept over the surrounding individuals, following the mental pathway opened by Tom Riddle, swiftly entering Corban's life traces.
A few minutes later, Corban began to twitch rapidly.
"Merlin's beard!" Goyle became nervous. "What's wrong with him?"
Crabbe rolled his eyes. "Dude, relax. The professor already said that Corban turns into a werewolf on the full moon. It's perfectly normal."
"Oh, oh." Goyle swallowed hard, still a bit nervously watching Corban rapidly transform, quickly turning into a burly and vicious werewolf.
"Werewolves are truly terrifying, aren't they?" he asked.
Crabbe didn't speak. He was already immersed in the power of the Soul Bonfire, his entire being in an extremely calm and peaceful state, feeling the warmth of his parents' presence, with beauty and joy rippling in his heart.
He didn't want to leave this wonderful feeling; he simply stared, enchanted, at the flames.
....
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