Well, fancy that! It seems Professor McGonagall couldn't quite stomach Grindelwald and Lockhart's shenanigans, putting a stop to their tomfoolery in front of the entire school. She gave them a proper Minerva stare, you know the one that could turn a Troll into a teacup, and herded them back to their seats. Then, she introduced the new Defence Against the Dark Arts professor, none other than Remus Lupin!
Now, compared to that Boggart-Grindelwald who nearly made Dumbledore himself break out a spell, Lupin seemed a bit… unkempt. His hair was a right mess, as if he'd been wrestling a Grindylow, and he looked as though he hadn't had a good night's sleep since before the First Wizarding War. His robes even had patches! In the old days, young wizards like Draco Malfoy, and even Harry himself, might have thought him a bit of a shifty character.
But thanks to a year under Professor Lockhart's tutelage, the young witches and wizards had learned to see beyond appearances. Lupin's dishevelled look, in their newfound wisdom, screamed 'powerful wizard'! As Professor Lockhart would often say, some wizards are so mighty they don't need fancy robes to prove it. Indeed, some even use a rather dreadful appearance as a path to their true magical selves. Lockhart's previous Muggle acquaintances called such folk 'Sweeper Monks' – the very epitome of cool, always appearing unassuming before revealing their true power.
Now, while Lupin certainly possesses a good deal of magical prowess, he truly had been living a bit like a vagabond. Being a werewolf, it's a bit of a challenge to hold down a proper job, and after the last war, his lycanthropy even caused some to suspect him as a spy for You-Know-Who. So, for many years, he'd been wandering, battered by life's storms. Lockhart had a moment of profound realization before the feast, thinking, "Everyone journeys through life with their own trials." Lupin, bless his cotton socks, had certainly faced more than his share.
He's a gentle, even a tad shy, wizard. While being in his company is pleasant, there's always a noticeable distance, a protective cloak he'd worn since being bitten as a child. And those decades of wandering only deepened it.
Professor McGonagall, clearly feeling a soft spot for the lad she'd watched grow up, had a brilliant idea. She decided to send Lupin and Lockhart to live in the Forbidden Forest, hoping the two, being of similar age, might rub off on each other a bit. Perhaps Lockhart would become a touch more serious, and Lupin a touch more cheerful. And since Dumbledore wasn't about, she figured, why not send Grindelwald there too, just to keep him from stirring up mischief in the castle? Dumbledore himself had said Lockhart was meant to keep an eye on him, hadn't he?
So, after the feast, the three of them, armed with their trunks, set off into the inky blackness of the Forbidden Forest. Grindelwald, still rather miffed about being Lockhart's "assistant," stomped ahead in silence. Lupin, being the quiet sort, simply offered a shy word or two when spoken to. Lockhart, in turn, found himself with little to say.
But soon enough, a new companion joined their ranks. Professor Kettleburn, with his three and a half limbs, was on his way to check the adventure grounds at the edge of the forest. Upon seeing them and hearing their destination, he enthusiastically volunteered to come along.
"This place is far closer to the adventure grounds than the castle," Professor Kettleburn chirped, "and since I'm responsible for this area now, living here is quite a splendid idea!"
Professor Kettleburn and Lockhart quickly fell into a lively discussion about expanding the adventure grounds, which piqued Lupin's interest. This, after all, concerned future lessons, and he began to keenly absorb every word.
"Child's play," Grindelwald sneered, interrupting their talk. "Do you truly believe this will forge proper warriors?"
Lockhart simply shrugged. "Adventure activities within the school aren't about flinging young wizards into danger, but about cultivating the habit of an adventurous life, encompassing everything, and opening up more possibilities for their futures."
"Adventure drills are indeed useful!" Professor Kettleburn argued back. "We've truly witnessed the growth of the young wizards; it's an excellent method for improving overall abilities."
Lupin listened intently, though he offered no opinions of his own.
As they chatted, they arrived at the corner of the Whomping Willow, where Hagrid was waiting. He was covered in mud, looking utterly exhausted, leaning on a shovel big enough for a land excavator, breathing heavily on a large stone.
"Here…" Lockhart peered at the giant rock beneath Hagrid's feet, calculating their position. "The path to the Shrieking Shack is blocked?!"
"You knew?" Hagrid seemed surprised, nodding. "Aye, it's blocked. Professor Dumbledore told me to seal all secret passages leading out of the school."
Well, wasn't that a surprise for Lockhart! With the secret passages to the outside world being sealed one by one, Hogwarts' security was sure to improve significantly. Clearly, Dumbledore's stance on things was shifting.
Lupin gazed at the scene with a hint of nostalgia. This very secret passage and the Shrieking Shack itself had been created by Dumbledore during his own time as a student at Hogwarts. The 'Shrieking Shack' earned its name because, on full moons, his werewolf howls terrified the residents of Hogsmeade, making them believe the place was haunted. This passage was a regular haunt for his Marauder friends back in the day. Dumbledore sealing it now likely had something to do with Sirius Black's recent escape.
"Just a rock to block it?" Lockhart curiously examined the large stone beneath his feet. It was indeed massive, but there was no magical aura about it, suggesting a purely physical barrier rather than a magical one.
---
### The Mind Snail Tunnel
"This is a Mind Snail Tunnel," Grindelwald suddenly announced. Seeing their curious faces, he casually explained, "You've all seen snails, haven't you? They constantly extend their feelers, those antennae riddled with sensitive nerves that help them analyze air, moisture, humidity, temperature, and so on. They are, in essence, an extension of their minds."
"An extension of the mind leading to a change in the body, resulting in the growth of antennae?" Lockhart mused aloud.
Grindelwald's eyebrow arched slightly, and he nodded. No wonder Dumbledore thought so highly of this young man; he truly was sharp, grasping the essence of a concept from mere hints.
"The peculiar thing about Mind Snail Tunnels is that they are walked into existence. It's a remarkably profound and permanent Transfiguration. When someone within a group steps outside the established norms, the path naturally extends before them." Grindelwald tapped the stone with his foot. "When it's blocked, and more people within the group believe it's impassable, the passage loses its foundation and simply collapses and fades away."
This idea of physical reality influencing mental perception, ultimately causing magic to appear or disappear, seemed to contradict Lockhart's own magical theories, yet it also held a strange common thread. But… why was Grindelwald explaining all this?
Lockhart's expression turned peculiar. He suddenly remembered Dumbledore's promise to have Grindelwald teach him about restoring the magic of Nurmengard Castle. And here he was, actually teaching! It was rather amusing that Grindelwald, who often seemed like a mystical prophet, followed a magical path rooted more in existence and reality. This, of course, was precisely the opposite of Lockhart's own philosophy, which leaned more towards mental experience. Lockhart strongly suspected Grindelwald was deliberately teaching him things that went against his own magical inclinations. That old dodderer, what a sly one!
But for all his slyness, Grindelwald was true to his word. He actually began to instruct Lockhart on how to construct such a magical passage. The incantation was long and complex, using ancient Runes, with various intricate vocalizations that made it sound like a strange song. The odd, unique echoing pronunciation made Lockhart think less of a snail extending its feelers and more of a muddy eel slithering through the dirt.
"Castle magic requires talent…" Grindelwald watched Lockhart silently recite the spell, a mocking twinkle in his eye. "It's simple for those who can do it, and incredibly difficult for those who can't. Young man, take my advice, this path isn't for you, you…"
But before he could finish, a peculiar glow erupted from both young wizards simultaneously, like the flickering light of a torch, dancing and shining within the damp, dripping rock cave, casting oddly shaped reflections everywhere.
"!!!" Grindelwald stared at Lockhart, then at the almost forgotten Lupin beside him, his eyes wide with surprise. This young man? He could also cast castle magic so easily? For a fleeting moment, he almost began to understand Lockhart's pronouncements that this was a more splendid era. Perhaps the future of wizards and Muggles truly lay beyond mere combat? Grindelwald fell into deep thought, his heterochromatic eyes flickering, as if trying to glimpse possible futures.
Lupin, noticing Grindelwald's gaze, quickly lowered his wand, a bit embarrassed, and dispelled the magic. His actions could be considered 'eavesdropping', even though Grindelwald hadn't explicitly tried to hide his teaching from them. He hadn't meant to steal the knowledge; this very passage and the Shrieking Shack always brought back fond memories of his happy school days. Grindelwald's words about tunnels even reminded him of the wonderful times he and the Marauders had spent creating the Marauder's Map. And so, listening intently, he had inadvertently become engrossed. He always had a bit of a moral compass, you see.
Lockhart, on the other hand, felt no such burden! He was absolutely thrilled, waving his wand, feeling that unique magical power surging through him, and excitedly shouting, "Let me try!"
Lockhart never just 'tried' a new spell. Magic was life, magic bloomed in adventure – this had practically become his magical mantra, and he always approached spellcasting with this very thought in mind. And now, they needed to find a suitable place to live in the Forbidden Forest. He had originally planned on just conjuring a soul-fire and roughing it for the night, but with this new magic, a fresh idea sparked in his mind.
He glanced around for a moment, his eyes lighting up. He then beckoned everyone and hurried towards the tunnel beneath the Whomping Willow. Following the half-blocked passage, they reached the large stone Hagrid had used to seal it. Lockhart then waved his wand, pushing forward.
It was truly fascinating! A shimmering, glassy corridor, seemingly woven onto the original stone passage, appeared before them. A slight bend in the distance hinted that the way ahead was still blocked by earth.
"Where are we going?" Hagrid asked, a hint of nervousness in his voice. "Dumbledore doesn't want any secret passages leading out of the school."
"The Forbidden Forest…" Lockhart mused, then his eyes twinkled mischievously. "Our destination: Aragog's Lair!"
Thump!
The passage vibrated, as if the entire tunnel had suddenly become completely unblocked.