Tracking down Corban Yaxley was no easy task for Lockhart and his crew.
The Ministry of Magic was pulling out all the stops, employing wizards skilled in tracing spells, but even they couldn't pin down the slippery bastard.
Lockhart and Snape weren't exactly experts in this area either. Their skills leaned heavily toward combat, not tracking people down. They didn't have any standout tricks for finding someone.
Harry and the other young wizards were just as clueless.
Sure, maybe "The Chosen One," Harry Potter, always seemed to stumble across clues from villains acting like NPCs when facing Voldemort, but this clearly wasn't his adventure. Fate wasn't lending a hand this time.
Still, Lockhart wasn't about to go hunting for Yaxley without a plan, relying on dumb luck.
He had a trick up his sleeve from Tom Riddle's memories—a dark magic spell for tracking people.
The catch? It required a bit of the target's blood to work, using the unique properties of a curse to provide clues.
That's why Lockhart had saved some of Yaxley's blood from his severed arm.
"We've got three shots at this," he said.
The spell could only be used three times.
Part of that was because they only had enough of Yaxley's blood for three attempts. But Lockhart was also wary of the spell itself. He wasn't skilled enough to control it perfectly, and casting it too often could backfire and harm him.
The dark spell, courtesy of Tom Riddle, was called Bloodline Trace.
Technically, it wasn't designed to find a specific person but to track down relatives.
For their first attempt, they hopped into a flying car and zoomed to Knockturn Alley, storming a dark wizard's hideout. After a quick fight, they confirmed Yaxley had been there.
The unfortunate dark wizard swore he hadn't helped Yaxley at all and begged for mercy, name-dropping Mr. Borgin, claiming he worked for the big shot.
The second attempt led them to Gringotts, where they nabbed someone no one expected—Bill Weasley.
Yep, Ron's older brother.
Bill, a curse-breaker at Gringotts, looked utterly confused. Ron thought it was ridiculous, but Snape, with a cold sneer, offered what was probably the real explanation: "Pure-blood family ties."
The British pure-blood families were a small circle, intermarrying for centuries. By now, everyone was related somehow. Ron's dad came from the Weasley family, his mom from the Prewett family—both part of the Sacred Twenty-Eight. This kind of interbreeding was common.
It wasn't shocking that Bill had some Yaxley blood in him.
But this discovery pretty much proved Lockhart's Bloodline Trace spell was a bust.
"Unreliable Gilderoy," Snape sneered, not bothering to hide his malice in front of the students.
In the end, Lockhart had to call in outside help, turning to Kingsley, who'd hinted he could lend a hand.
Kingsley provided a list: Yaxley family properties and safe houses worldwide, plus some names he couldn't share with the Ministry.
Lady Marie was one of them.
Lockhart wasn't thrilled about seeking her out.
She was one of the powerful witches whose memories his former self had stolen—the true hero of the adventures in Break with a Banshee.
Her story was a sad one.
Her grandmother, a Haitian Muggle, fell in love with a Yaxley family member. His wife cursed her to never be loved by anyone—a cruel hex that passed down to her descendants.
Marie's mother was abandoned, and so was she.
She'd idolized Lockhart, the rags-to-riches half-blood who'd climbed to fame, and became an obsessive fan.
His former self was a total sleaze. He didn't scam her physically, keeping some shred of decency, but he did steal her memories.
Lockhart wasn't exactly eager to face her.
But fate loves its cruel twists. The third Bloodline Trace led them right to her, and, by some stroke of luck, they found Yaxley's trail!
The powerful witch clearly had some mental vulnerabilities. When Crabbe cast a Soulfire spell at the fireplace, she froze, staring blankly at the flames, completely immobilized.
But when Hermione tried to finish her off with a spell, purple dust erupted from Marie, blocking the attack.
The others had better luck. Despite the usual squabbles between Harry's crew and Draco's gang, Lockhart's training paid off. They worked together seamlessly, taking down the wizards who rushed in from the local magical community.
"Maybe your 'fairy-tale adventure' idea actually works," Snape said, his expression conflicted as he watched the kids fight. He seemed both impressed and wistful, perhaps recalling his own youth. "They're good enough to call exceptional."
Lockhart didn't respond, his gaze fixed on Lady Marie by the fireplace.
He could feel her eyes on him, lit by the Soulfire's glow.
"Well, well," Snape said with a cryptic tone. Hearing Harry's group shout, "He's in here!" he left Lockhart behind and rushed inside.
"It's you, isn't it?" Lady Marie said, her face dazed as she stared at Lockhart. "I can feel it—my spirit's telling me it's you!"
Lockhart looked at her, his expression heavy, and let out a deep sigh. "I'm sorry."
"Sorry?" she said with a cold laugh.
"Yeah," Lockhart said, raising his wand gently. "I really am."
Her cold smile turned to panic as she stared at the wand. "No, don't! You can't do this to me again!"
"I have to. Maybe one day, when I can, I'll make it up to you. But not now." Lockhart's voice held regret, but he swiftly waved his wand.
"Obliviate!"
Marie's eyes went blank. As the Soulfire flickered out, she slumped onto the sofa by the fireplace, falling into a deep sleep.
Tap, tap, tap.
Footsteps echoed faintly, but she remained still, lost in the deepest slumber.
Lockhart looked down at her, gently waving his wand to ensure the Memory Charm had taken hold properly, then let out a long sigh.
A dozen powerful wizards' memories. Who knew what trouble that could stir up in the future?
"Wipe her mind completely—turn her into a vegetable!" a voice growled. The fireplace's light cast a dark werewolf shadow on the floor, snarling beside him. "She's helping Yaxley. This is your chance! Let the Ministry lock her up in Azkaban for life as an accomplice!"
"No, you can't do that!" A silvery light shimmered, and a horse appeared beside Marie, urging Lockhart. "Those awful things weren't your doing. Your future depends on what you choose now!"
"She's a dark witch—she's no saint!" the werewolf roared. "She doesn't play by the rules. If she figures things out again, you're done for!"
"Ha!" the horse laughed. "Us, scared? Let her try. We'll see who ends up finished!"
Lockhart stayed silent, his gaze dark as he looked at the witch.
"Professor, come quick! We've got Yaxley!" Hermione's excited voice called out as she flung open a curtain nearby.
"Really? You guys did great," Lockhart said, lifting his head with a warm smile.
The fireplace's flames surged, blending the werewolf and horse into a twisted, unrecognizable mess.
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