Chapter 201: That's Slander!
They journeyed along the secret passage beneath the Whomping Willow, rounded a few bends, and after several dozen steps, the path opened up, leaving everyone stunned.
This was indeed the Acromantulas' cave, but the exit they had created in the wall was close to the mouth of the cave, from which they could see a massive waterfall roaring down.
The group stepped out of the cave and looked around. In the moonlit night, the clouds stretched like a continuous sea, and the peaks stood like islands.
Looking down into the canyon, they saw colossal figures crawling in the shadows. Sensing their presence, the monstrous creatures surged towards them like an ocean.
"Where in the world did this take me?" Lockhart was stunned. He glanced disbelievingly at his wand, then back at the mouth of the tunnel.
"Push them back with everything you've got!" Lupin suddenly waved his wand, sending an Acromantula flying off a tree branch. But before he could even catch his breath, several more Acromantulas, as large as heavy lorries, scurried towards them from all directions.
Professor Kettleburn frantically cast a Lumos, finally allowing them to see their surroundings clearly—they were on the summit of a mountain peak, surrounded by a dense, teeming horde of Acromantulas.
"Quick, my wand!" Even Grindelwald was in a panic, hurrying to retreat into the tunnel, only to see a flood of Acromantulas pouring out from various passages within the cave.
Just then, a terrifying magical wave of fear swept over everything nearby. All the Acromantulas attempting to approach stood frozen in place, and several closer ones began to convulse and tremble, toppling over.
"Goo-jee!" The golden monkey stood on Lockhart's shoulder, its gaze sharp and cold, and let out a fierce, threatening roar.
"What is that?" Grindelwald looked at the peculiar little monkey with a hint of curiosity.
"'Three-Hand,' a very rare Dark magical creature," Lupin answered, observing the golden monkey with fascination. "Some Dark wizards try to raise them, but without exception, they are hollowed out of all their internal parts during an accidental failure of the sealing charm. That's why some people also call it 'the Shell-Maker'."
Grindelwald's eyes narrowed. He absolutely disliked small animals raised by wizards and had a strong aversion to strange magical creatures.
But Lockhart paid no attention to his thoughts. He simply looked around in confusion, then turned to the bewildered Hagrid. "Where is this?"
"Deep in the Forbidden Forest," Hagrid said with a solemn expression. "The Aragog couple died. After getting Dumbledore's opinion, I released their offspring to the deeper parts of the forest to prevent them from harming the students."
He strode over to an Acromantula, pried open its mouth to inspect its chelicerae, and his brow furrowed deeply. "They seem to have run rampant. There should have been some werewolves living here. I'm afraid I made a mistake, those werewolves..."
"Werewolves?" Lockhart asked, puzzled. "I've heard rumors from the students about werewolves in the Forbidden Forest, but I always thought they were just rumors. Does Hogwarts really allow werewolves to live here?"
Hagrid shook his head. "Not wizards who turn into werewolves, but those really beautiful wolves." He tried his best to explain but couldn't find the right words.
"They're more like wolf-pups," Lupin explained sadly. "On the night of the full moon, a witch or wizard infected with lycanthropy transforms into a werewolf. If two werewolves mate, the witch will give birth to a litter of wolf-pups."
"The werewolf pups can never become human, but they possess near-human intelligence and have the appearance of very, very beautiful wolves."
Lockhart listened with great interest and instinctively asked, "Can a Homorphus Charm turn these wolves back into people?"
Lupin shook his head. "They were born as wolves, not humans, so how could they return to a human form?"
This was an incredibly dreadful situation. Everyone found it impossible to imagine a mother carrying a huge belly for ten months, only to give birth to a litter of wolf-pups. The image alone was terrifying.
Professor Kettleburn, who was obviously aware of Lupin's secret, sighed and gently patted his former student's shoulder.
"A manifestation of a magical bloodline!" Lockhart had a theory and stroked his chin. "If you treat lycanthropy as a magical bloodline, it's undoubtedly a very unique one!"
His expression flickered as he wondered if there was a convergence in intelligence between the werewolf pups and children like Crabbe and Goyle.
He even thought about whether Voldemort's snake-like facial features and his increasingly deranged thinking were related to this very issue.
The group quickly left the area. Even with the golden monkey's "Stasis Aura" covering them, more and more Acromantulas were foolishly swarming towards them, and they were in danger of being buried alive.
After climbing out of the hole beneath the Whomping Willow, Hagrid hesitated for a moment before moving large stones to block the opening.
He needed to discuss the arrangements for these Acromantulas with Dumbledore. This secret passage would undoubtedly be much more convenient, and he planned to permanently seal it once everything was sorted out.
Hagrid did not notice Grindelwald's heterochromatic eyes flickering as he watched him temporarily block the hole, his expression peculiar and silent.
Well, even if he had noticed, he wouldn't have thought much of it. The simple-minded giant had a certain degree of innate innocence.
After all that trouble, they seemed to be back at their starting point, but the atmosphere between the group was now vastly different.
It was the middle of the night, and they still hadn't found a suitable place to stay, but no one was worried.
Grindelwald had been sitting idly in Nurmengard for decades and was no longer picky about his surroundings. Lupin, a lifelong wanderer, had spent many nights sleeping on park benches. And Professor Kettleburn, who seemed to need a better environment due to his physical disabilities, had often camped out in the open during his adventurous life.
In the end, it was Lockhart who summoned the Knight Bus, and the lady who had been living in the Forbidden Forest for some time led them to a suitable place to camp.
It wasn't far from the Whomping Willow, on the back side of a small mountain valley, encircled by a stream. There, glowing blue flowers and colorful, glass-like pebbles covered the ground.
The Knight Bus lady clearly knew what Lockhart needed.
There was a unique type of fungus here. The smaller ones were only a few centimeters tall, while the larger ones reached three meters high. Their broad and thick pinkish-purple caps were like large rooftops, with a kind of immobile, plant-like insect hanging down from the sides like beaded curtains, protecting the stalks from being eaten by wild beasts.
A natural house.
This was where their differences became apparent. Grindelwald borrowed Lockhart's wand and Transfigured some of the colorful, crystalline pebbles into a bed and walls, unwilling to treat himself poorly.
Professor Kettleburn was not picky at all. He went straight into one of the mushroom houses, and before anyone could react, snores were already rumbling from inside.
Lupin, meanwhile, was cautiously observing every detail of his surroundings. When he returned and saw Lockhart gathering firewood to light a bonfire, he helped by splitting the wood with a spell. "This place might not be suitable for a long stay. I saw signs of a Devil-bird, which should be living not too far from here."
"I also saw a Streeler's feather. I suspect these two flocks of birds are fighting for territory in this area, so it's probably going to get very noisy."
A Streeler is a small bird that looks a bit like a peacock, with light-blue, spotted feathers. The males have long tail feathers. The most unique characteristic of this bird is that it never makes a sound its entire life. Only at the moment before death does it let out a long, piercing shriek, vocalizing all the sounds it has ever heard in its life. Its feathers can be used for making Veritaserum and Memory Potions.
Interestingly, a Devil-bird is the complete opposite. It shrieks constantly, except when it's sleeping. The sound is high-pitched and shrill, and it can cause a wizard to lose their mind.
If a wizard wants to raise one, they must cast a Silencing Charm on it, and the spell needs to be strengthened every month until they can no longer maintain it.
This is an extremely ancient species, represented by the number '4' in Ancient Runes, because they come in four vivid and lovely colours: orange, pink, lime green, or yellow.
A medieval Care of Magical Creatures expert from Hogwarts, 'Ulick the Oddball,' once tried to prove to the Wizengamot that the Devil-bird's shriek was beneficial to wizards, but unfortunately, he was unsuccessful.
"They won't affect us," Lockhart said with a smile, lightly drawing his wand and pointing it at the pile of firewood.
Bicoloured flames rose, bringing a gentle and comforting power that soothed the soul and spread to the surrounding area.
Soon, both Devil-birds and Streelers flew over, but there was no quarreling. They simply perched quietly on nearby branches, like cats instinctively huddling near a brazier for warmth in winter.
In fact, it wasn't just the birds that felt the wondrous power of the Soul Bonfire. Lupin's feelings were even more profound.
He just stared blankly at the bonfire, his long-established defensive, wary posture and micro-expressions relaxing. The exhaustion he had secretly accumulated over the years completely overwhelmed him.
"What is this magic?" he murmured, mesmerized by the bonfire.
"The Soul Bonfire!" Grindelwald walked over, looked down at the fire, his eyes filled with memory. "A famous specialty of Ms. Dolores Bennet (the Forest Witch)."
During his decades in Nurmengard, he would also contemplate whether the things he had done in his past were good or bad.
He himself had no answer. Perhaps under different eras and social conditions for wizards, there would be different judgments.
But he knew that in that time, he had helped many people, and benefited greatly from it.
For instance, he had saved the Forest Witch, which led to the Forest Witch's plea for Gilderoy Lockhart's help, which in turn allowed him to finally break free from his imprisonment in Nurmengard.
Of course, this wasn't something he just waited for. He made some efforts to push the "future" in the direction he desired, which ultimately led to the destruction of Nurmengard Castle and gave Albus a reason to stop keeping him imprisoned.
He had given his payment. As a Seer, he had glimpsed Lockhart's exploration and desire for that Obscurus-like Patronus and pushed for this future to arrive early.
It could be said that Lockhart's ability to cast such a massive Patronus during the train attack was deeply connected to this event.
Of course, the things he did were always like this. Some people would be moved to tears and become loyal followers, while others would feel heartfelt resistance and anger, such as Lockhart.
Grindelwald didn't care. His life had always been this way.
"Damn it!" Grindelwald suddenly cursed under his breath, looking at the Soul Bonfire with some wariness, his brow furrowed. "This magic isn't the same as the one in my memory?! It's affecting my mind?"
Lockhart shrugged. "Of course it's not the same. The Forest Witch's Soul Bonfire is her Soul Bonfire, and this is my Soul Bonfire!"
Grindelwald understood the weight of that statement. He gave Lockhart a long, deep look, then finally nodded. "You want to learn castle-based magic, right? I'll teach you!"
Lockhart was amused. "Even if I plan to lock you back in Nurmengard?"
"Heh," Grindelwald said, clasping his hands behind his back and squinting up at the starry sky visible through the gaps in the canopy. He was perfectly at ease and said coolly, "You need my help against Dumbledore, you see. I know that you are the last person who wants me to stay in Nurmengard!"
Lockhart's eyes widened. "That's slander!"
Grindelwald gave a cold laugh. "Who knows? No one can truly see through a person."
As the saying goes, "when two minds don't meet, say no more." The two of them gave up on each other and went back to their chosen pink mushroom houses to sleep.
Only Lupin remained, quietly curled up by the Soul Bonfire, a forlorn expression on his face as he licked his wounds. The night breeze ruffled his messy hair. At thirty-three, his hair was already streaked with grey, and his face held an expression of profound loneliness and sorrow.
He didn't know how long it was before a beast's roar echoed from deep within the Forbidden Forest, and the entire forest was awakened once more. Without realizing it, another night had passed.
Or rather, it didn't feel like enduring a night—not this one. He hadn't slept, yet it felt as if he had received the most perfect rest. He felt a sense of relief throughout his entire being. This magic of the Soul Bonfire was truly wondrous.
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