Old Snape, driven by an unyielding determination, pressed forward.
Lockhart, however, was not so oblivious. Every step he took was cautious, observing every subtle change around them, guarding against potential dangers.
"Look, we have footprints," he glanced back, noticing faint, colourful footprints emerging from the darkness. "I felt it earlier; this potion has been stimulating our minds, causing things to burst forth from our very souls."
"According to you, this concoction probably needs a lot of our participation to fully form, doesn't it?"
"I predict there will be some changes soon!"
No sooner had he spoken than the footprints suddenly lit up, casting a strange, kaleidoscopic glow upon the dark passage.
"Watch out!" Snape's expression grew serious as he gripped his wand tightly.
But here, the magic they had mastered seemed to have lost its meaning. A howling gale, like a flood, surged from the direction they had come, rendering all their defensive spells useless.
Bang!
The fierce wind slammed into them, completely forcing out the contents of their minds.
Snape grunted, his face suddenly paling as he stared at the Patronus doe that had abruptly appeared before him.
He had a terrible premonition.
"No~"
He cried out in horror, "Don't!"
Yet, the dreadful thing still happened.
As the gale relentlessly pulled, he let out a piercing howl. The powerful magic within him resisted the mind-tearing force, but he was utterly helpless, watching in horror as his Patronus doe rapidly tore itself away from his mind.
Then, the doe was swept away by the wind, flying swiftly into the distance of the dark passage.
"No! Lily!"
Snape screamed in terror, his wide wizard's robes billowing as he transformed into a black shadow, rapidly chasing after the Patronus doe.
A flying charm, faster than a broomstick, accelerated to its extreme under the immense power of his magic.
The wind howled.
Lockhart pulled down the hood of his wizard's robes that had been slapping his face, trying desperately to open his eyes, but the wind stung them painfully.
Just then, a pair of cool, small hands reached out, gently smoothing his hair, which was wildly flying in the wind. He turned his head to see the Banshee.
She, too, had been squeezed out of his mind by this seemingly unending torrent of wind, and was now conjuring a blade of grass to tie his hair.
Lockhart cast a delicate Bubble-Head Charm on his face with his wand, finally feeling a bit better.
He looked at the Banshee with some confusion, then at his Patronus horse and the malevolent Werewolf beside them, blinking. "Why don't I feel our connection being torn apart?"
"Strange!" Lockhart looked ahead, vaguely seeing Snape's figure chasing the Patronus doe, growing smaller and smaller. "I can feel it, his mind really did tear apart!"
"Perhaps..."
The Banshee also looked up. "He holds something in his heart that doesn't truly belong to him, which is why it was so easily stripped away."
That made sense.
Leaving aside the situation between himself and his Patronus horse, even the mental contract between himself and the Banshee, a magical creature, was surely not as intrinsically linked as one's own Patronus. Yet, he remained unaffected.
Furthermore, Lockhart could feel that he and Snape were experiencing the same effects from this peculiar potion; there was no indication that Snape was being specifically targeted.
"I have to go see!"
He climbed onto the horse's back, with the Banshee sitting behind him, and quickly galloped in Snape's direction.
The Werewolf also tried to get on the horse but was kicked off by its hooves, grumbling as he ran on all fours behind them.
"We need to be fast."
The Patronus's speed was too slow. Seeing the distance between them and Snape growing, Lockhart waved his wand, rapidly casting a flying charm.
Boom!
A powerful wave of air struck them, and the horse neighed loudly, its body lifting into the air. Using the force of the gale, its speed instantly transformed into a silver streak of light.
"Wait for me~~~" the Werewolf shouted. After running for a while, he despairingly saw Lockhart on his horse instantly appear far away.
"!!!" It roared in frustration, its eyes suddenly widening as it transformed into a black mist, pulled by the faint connection between itself and Lockhart, and poured into the gale.
It was like a kite, tumbling in the fierce wind.
"Wait..." it screamed in terror, "Wait a moment... slower..."
"Faster!" Lockhart's flying charm was clearly not as effective as Snape's. Anxious, he began to try and stimulate changes in his Patronus Charm.
Then, the Werewolf despairingly watched as that cursed horse suddenly grew a pair of enormous wings, rapidly spreading and flapping, its speed increasing once more. "Ahhhhhhh..."
Who knew how long they flew like this, when it suddenly felt a jolt. The tearing force ceased, and it could finally touch the ground, quickly tumbling and transforming back into a Werewolf.
It vigorously shook its dizzy head, looking left and right, and finally spotted Lockhart.
They were stopped in a patch of faint light within this windy passage.
Lockhart's expression was somewhat complex as he watched the swirling images within the faint light. It was the scene of him going to Urquhart Castle to deal with the dark magical creature, the Banshee—he had fallen to the ground, looking hopefully at the Banshee on the pyre.
"I deceived you back then," Lockhart said, a complicated feeling in his voice as he watched the scene.
"I'm finally starting to understand what this 'regret potion' truly is." He turned to the Banshee behind him. "You could actually regret it now, I guess this..."
Before he could finish his sentence, a pair of cool, small hands embraced him, and the Banshee gently rested her small face against his back, saying softly, "I stopped caring long ago."
"..."
Lockhart sighed. "I never know how to repay these debts of deception. Life is truly too complicated sometimes."
Well, except for young Tom; he felt no psychological burden whatsoever in deceiving him.
"Give me a name!" the Banshee said.
"Hmm?"
"Little Goldie has a name, but I don't." The Banshee's voice was soft and gentle, yet held an unspoken determination. "We're family, you have to give me a name."
"A name, huh..." Lockhart scratched his head, feeling a bit of a headache. "I'll think about it properly after this is over."
He had named the dark magical creature 'Three-Hands' as 'Little Goldie' because he treated it like a pet, like a cat or a dog. Now, he lived with these companions like a family, and he truly couldn't just treat them as pets anymore.
"Mm, it's alright, take your time thinking, I can wait." The Banshee seemed very happy.
Then, let's continue!
Lockhart urged his Patronus horse again. "Let's go!"
But just then, the horse turned its head to look at him. "I want a name too!"
"Little Horse!" Lockhart rolled his eyes, then looked at the Werewolf, who was staring at him expectantly like a dog. "Little Wolf!"
The Werewolf glared at him unhappily. "You could be more perfunctory! Why do you have to think so hard for the Banshee's name, but not for mine? I swear I'll kill you!"
"You can't kill him, you're just a part of him," the horse retorted, shaking its flowing mane. "I like the name 'Little Horse,' it's endearing."
"Bloody hell, you traitor!" the Werewolf roared, but could only gulp down a mouthful of wind, as he was pulled up again, becoming a kite in the sky. "Wait... wait... slow... down..."
No.
Not a bit slower.
Along the way, faint lights flickered past, revealing scenes from the past.
Little Horse flapped its wings, continuing to chase in Snape's direction, and even began to communicate with Lockhart. "As a mind creature, a Patronus, I can tell you very clearly, Severus's Patronus has a big problem."
Lockhart was a bit confused. "Patronus Charms should all be pretty similar, born from the good and happy things in one's mind, right?"
Little Horse chuckled. "I can see things you can't. You might not know, but Professor McGonagall's Patronus is a group of cats. Note, a group." (Original setting)
Lockhart exclaimed in surprise, "A group?"
"Yes, a very unique state," Little Horse explained. "Dumbledore's Patronus is a phoenix, powerful, but in an extremely bad state. It self-incinerates and resurrects itself every day, sometimes dying several times a day, depending on his mood."
In fact, everyone's Patronus is so different.
Because every mind is so different.
"Every mind has its own characteristics. For example, you, you are a solitary soul, like a rootless duckweed," Little Horse flapped its wings. "You crave companionship, you crave to be protected, and so Little Wolf and I were born here, making it easier for us to communicate with ourselves than other people's Patronuses."
Just then, an angry roar came from behind. "I'm not Little Wolf, I'd rather not have such a stupid name!"
Little Horse cackled mischievously. "Do you want to go faster?"
Lockhart's eyes lit up. "You can fly faster?"
Little Horse shook its head. "No, you can!"
It simply slowed down so Lockhart could be in a better state to cast. "Dumbledore taught you, mind communication. You can use this!"
"The pursuit between minds sometimes has no spatial distance, only the distance between hearts."
"Fortunately, Snape truly considers you a friend, and you him."
"Try it, I might be able to appear right next to his Patronus in an instant!"
Good idea!
Lockhart's eyes brightened, and he quickly waved his wand, chanting the spell, "Mind Communication!"
Whoosh!
He suddenly felt a speed so great that his mind couldn't keep up. His head went blank for a moment, buzzing as if stretched into an infinitely long thin line.
The thin line quickly snapped back, and he had already appeared behind Snape.
"That's not right?" Little Horse looked back at Lockhart in confusion. "I was supposed to go to the deer, wasn't I? How did I end up here with Severus?"
Lockhart's expression shifted slightly, and the corners of his mouth curved into a small smile. "I know what the answer is!"
Regret Potion, indeed.
Existing in such an interesting way.
He looked at Snape, who was flying headlong ahead, and shouted, "Severus, do you want a wife?"
"!!!" Snape suddenly turned back, glaring fiercely at him.
"Did you see those past scenes in the light just now? We're chasing the direction of the past!" Lockhart shouted. "You've gone the wrong way! You can never go back to the past, you can only go to the future. Your deer is in the future."
He pointed behind him. "You're running the wrong way!"
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