Chapter 264: Lockhart is Very Pleased
Whoosh...
Green flames flared in the fireplace, and Lockhart emerged from Professor McGonagall's office fireplace with the three young wizards. He was met with a sea of figures.
When they turned around and saw who it was, Professor McGonagall, who was at the head of the group, looked very emotional. "Dumbledore sent word... Voldemort has been captured?" Even though she believed Dumbledore's message, she still felt a deep sense of unreality.
How many years had it been? How many years had the Order of the Phoenix fought? So many comrades had died, and countless others, like the Longbottoms, had suffered permanent magical damage. And now, out of the blue, news had come that Voldemort was captured alive.
Ecstasy!
But after the ecstasy came an unbelievable sense of unease, a fear that it was all just an illusion or a dream, leaving everyone feeling incredibly anxious.
"Yes, he has been captured," Lockhart said with a smile, patting Cedric on the shoulder. "These three brave wizards were all part of the battle!"
Cedric's face immediately turned crimson, looking embarrassed. Luna was still in her hazy, dreamy state. In fact, if it weren't for so many people around, she would have started talking to the pink butterfly that no one else could see. Crabbe, on the other hand, was grinning proudly, puffing out his chest as if to say, "That's right, that was us!"
It was us, along with Professor Lockhart, Professor Dumbledore, and Mr. Grindelwald, who went on a wild killing spree!
"Gilderoy!" Snape quickly squeezed out from a corner and strode over. His face was tightly strained, suppressing his emotions, but the fire in his reddened eyes was impossible to hide. "Why didn't you ask me to go with you?"
Lockhart spread his hands. "We didn't expect it to be so successful. We thought it was just another one of countless battles. You know, it's not easy."
Was that a valid excuse? Yes, it was.
Snape knew that if the frontal assault had failed, it would have been his time to play his part as a spy. If he had blindly joined the battle out of hatred, it would have made his future undercover work extremely difficult and damaged the trust he had with Voldemort.
"Why didn't you kill him?" His voice was hoarse, and he spoke through gritted teeth, filled with pain.
Lockhart sighed and patted Snape's shoulder. He knew that old Snape knew how powerful the Horcruxes were.
"I don't think this is the time for that kind of talk!" Professor Lupin walked over. "Dumbledore needs people to help now. He needs more momentum and support. We must set off immediately!"
While Voldemort's capture was a cause for celebration, the matter was far from over. Voldemort's minions had to be dealt with, especially those who had colluded with unscrupulous Muggle forces. This was the best time to clean them all out. This wasn't the first time they had gone through something like this, and they had gained some experience. They couldn't let so many people escape justice in the chaos like last time.
Lupin was anxious. He knew how many werewolves in the werewolf community were loyal followers of Voldemort. He had to get there and take control of the situation before the news of Voldemort's capture was made public. He didn't want to see werewolves causing trouble and hurting people, nor did he want the entire werewolf community to be branded as "Voldemort's minions."
Those werewolves... Lupin understood them, just as he understood why so many people in the Order of the Phoenix had distrusted him. Voldemort had promised the werewolves that they could live openly, without discrimination or bullying, and that they could work to support themselves. Countless werewolves had been desperate for Voldemort to succeed because of this. How they longed for this hope, even though it was so unreal.
Lupin knew that just because Voldemort promised it, didn't mean he would deliver. He knew the Dark Lord's true nature he was a person who used even his pure-blood followers as mere tools. Use and discard! Fenrir Greyback, the werewolf who had bitten him and the leader of the werewolf community, had always contributed more than the other Death Eaters, but in the end, he couldn't even get the title of a Death Eater. Not to mention the ordinary werewolves who were completely useless to Voldemort.
He could understand these desperate werewolves, and that made him even more determined to prevent them from causing trouble.
The professors present all had their own tasks. For example, Professor Sprout, the Head of Hufflepuff, had to stay and watch over the students at the school. Professor Flitwick, the Head of Ravenclaw, with his goblin-wizard heritage, represented certain communities and needed to clearly stand by Dumbledore's side.
Lockhart also had to do this, but he didn't need to be told what to do. He sent the three young wizards back to their respective houses and embarked on his solo hunt for Corban.
...
Corban was in despair. He didn't know what had happened to Voldemort, but he did know that Dumbledore, Grindelwald, and Lockhart had completely sealed off the farm. They had trapped the enemy. This was not a battle he could be a part of.
Maybe... maybe the Dark Lord would understand him for his absence?
Corban didn't know. He knew Voldemort was ruthless, but he also knew that when he had value, Voldemort would be magnanimous. He knew Voldemort too well; he was a person who was heartless but didn't hold grudges. As long as he got through the interrogation, he could be spared punishment. This was the reason he had dared to flee.
Corban hadn't fled too far. He hid in a safe house, ready to rush back at any moment to show his loyalty. But he never got a good opportunity. He only got bad news, terrible news someone had seen Dumbledore capture a person and was guarding him very strictly, not letting him out of his sight.
It was over! Corban knew it was over!
He knew Dumbledore was powerful, and he also knew that Voldemort might have defeated Dumbledore because Dumbledore was old. But with Grindelwald and Lockhart, it was a hopeless situation. He crouched in his safe house, curled up by the fireplace. Even though the fire was so warm, he was still shaking.
His mind was a mess. He wondered if the capture was a ruse by Voldemort, because Voldemort had once said that there was an irreconcilable conflict between Dumbledore and Grindelwald, and the only reason they were standing together was because of him. In a world without Voldemort, Dumbledore and Grindelwald would inevitably become enemies. The same logic applied to Lockhart.
But... was it really like that? Corban didn't know. He knew Voldemort was cunning and patient, but he also knew his pride.
What to do? He was completely losing it.
Suddenly, he felt a terrible suffocation, and a feeling of dread crept into his mind. It was as if a wet, cold hand had reached out from his heart, holding a dagger, and lightly slicing his liver and lungs. Corban raised his head in horror and saw a figure standing in front of the safe house's window.
"G... Gi..." His teeth chattered, and his eyes bulged in terror. "Gilderoy Lockhart!"
Yes! Gilderoy was standing at the window, looking at him!
No! That wasn't right! He couldn't see him!
Corban tried to comfort himself. This was a safe house, a safe house protected by powerful magic. Even if Gilderoy Lockhart had found this place by some means and was standing outside the window, he couldn't see him!
He can't see me! He can't see me!!! He can't see me!!!!
"Ahhh..." he screamed in horror, his mind beginning to break down. He ran wildly around the room, bumping into bookshelves and sofas, and finally fell to the floor.
He looked up in a panic to check the figure in the window and saw Gilderoy Lockhart's smiling face. His eyes were looking directly at the spot on the floor where he had fallen.
"!!!!"
"Ahhh..." he screamed, scrambling toward the fireplace and diving into the flames. He shouted a different destination, but his mind was so shattered he forgot to use Floo Powder.
Soon, he burst out of the fireplace, his body on fire, his face, hands, and feet covered in blisters. His expensive, luxurious wizard robes fluttered, automatically extinguishing the flames that had caught the edges, and he was left smelling of burnt fur and smoke.
"No, no, no!"
He ran like a madman toward the stairs, almost tripping, then scrambled up the stairs on all fours, and finally escaped to the attic on the top floor. The creepy feeling in his heart finally disappeared.
He let out a long breath, slumping to the ground, panting. He subconsciously scratched his chest, which had been itching from his anxiety.
"What do I do... what do I!!!!"
He muttered, and suddenly he felt a figure in his peripheral vision. He instantly froze, unable to move. His entire body went rigid, and he didn't even dare to turn his head to check. He just focused all his energy on his peripheral vision, trying to determine if it was Lockhart.
Creeeak...
He seemed to hear the creaking sound of a window opening, a very twisted and strange sound echoing in the unnaturally quiet attic. It stimulated him, making his legs tremble uncontrollably.
Creeeak...Creeeak...
The sound from the window became more and more frantic, frantically pulling at a string in his heart. He felt that the hand that had been moving in his abdomen had dropped the dagger and was now grabbing his heart, squeezing it harder and harder. He was suffocating.
He clutched his own throat, helplessly knelt on the ground, his head resting on the floor. He opened and closed his mouth like a dying fish, but felt as if he had lost the ability to breathe.
Time passed in silence. He didn't know how long it had been. Maybe it was just a moment, or maybe a long time. Suddenly, he felt that this stiffness, this suffocation, this indescribable terror, had all disappeared.
Thump.
He fell to the ground weakly. He took a breath, then immediately began to suffocate again! The feeling of dread returned, his heart squeezed with tension, and his liver and gall bladder ached as if they were about to burst.
He used his foot to kick the leg of the table in front of him, to shift his body slightly. He strained to lift his head from the floor, and finally, he saw it.
Outside the window, Lockhart was smiling down at him. He couldn't really hear what he was saying.
Damn it! What was Lockhart saying?
Lockhart was saying, "Little Golden Retriever, try again. This is a good opportunity to practice."
Yes, Corban's mind was completely breaking down. It was the little golden retriever who was using his abilities. Unfortunately, separated by a safe house, it was as if they were in a different world. The power of these Dark Arts was hard to penetrate.
Lockhart eventually found a way: he had the little golden retriever use its influence on him, and then he transmitted that power through the "backdoor" he had set up in Corban's mind. He was now like someone trying to get a mouse to run out of its hole on its own. It was not easy. If Corban's will hadn't been so weak, the little golden retriever's indirect magical influence probably wouldn't have worked.
The other companions were also thinking of ways to open this "sardine can."
"I think I can feel it..." Beside him, the Avenger's Fairy floated in mid-air, her golden hair and robes fluttering in an invisible breeze. Her pale feet dangled naturally, and she gently waved her hands, as if touching a crack in a wall.
Whoosh...
Blood gushed out.
"Ahhh..." Corban in the safe house screamed again in fear, like a startled bird. He couldn't even stand up. He used his hands to support himself on the ground, pushing his body backward with his feet, trying to get as far away as possible from the blood seeping through the cracks in the floor.
Plop.
He suddenly felt something cold on his forehead. He quickly looked up and saw that blood was also seeping from the cracks in the ceiling. Then, a rustling sound started in the room, and countless snakes and bugs he hadn't noticed before crawled out of the corners and ran toward him.
"Ahhh..." He screamed and reached for the wand in his pocket, but his body froze. He had grabbed nothing. He finally completely broke down. He scrambled toward the door like a madman. He opened the door and ran out!
Thwack!
A large foot kicked him in the chest with incredible force, sending him flying back. He flew in mid-air for a while, hitting a wall several meters away. The animated wall slapped him and then grabbed the hair on his head, along with his scalp, and pulled hard.
"Ahhhhhhh..."
He writhed in agony, finally falling to the ground.
Tap, tap, tap...
Footsteps approached, and the pair of exquisite shoes that had kicked him appeared in front of him. He gulped, looking up in horror at the owner of the shoes straight legs, a loose, refined golden-trimmed wizard robe, and a handsome young face with a very gentle smile.
"!!!"
Lockhart looked down at him and said soothingly, "Calm down. It'll be over soon."
What? What would be over soon?
Corban was dazed. His body suddenly tensed up, and his muscles trembled madly. This tremor, which felt confined to his skin, made him feel like he was being minced into a liquid. Silver threads floated out of his body, wriggling and swaying in mid-air.
In an instant, he seemed to have turned into a giant ball of wool. All his secrets, even the information he had long forgotten and could only be found in his soul, were pulled out of his body by the magic. For Lockhart to peruse.
"Let me see..."
Lockhart's voice was very gentle. He lightly waved his wand, inspecting all of his memories as if he were picking vegetables at a market stall.
The secrets of the Yaxley family... The family's accumulated knowledge of time travel... The comprehensive research they had accumulated in the "transportation field" on safe house magic, map magic, Floo Network construction, intercontinental Portkey travel, broomstick manufacturing, and so on...
"Nice."
Lockhart was very pleased.