Chapter 97: The Call of the Wild, and a Bargain
"You are the future!"
The Forest Witch told Lockhart this.
As a witch who could be considered more old-fashioned, she had, in her youth, yearned for the prosperity of human society, followed a troll out of the forest into the Muggle world, and lived most of her life in Manhattan. She had even adopted an alias and spent time as a movie star in Hollywood. She undoubtedly had a profound understanding of the current state of society.
"Great Dumbledore was right; wizards must find a way to coexist with Muggles, and that era has long since arrived. No one can escape it."
The Forest Witch was a saint in her youth; most wizards like her who yearned for Muggle life were Grindelwald's followers during that period.
"Dumbledore, that traitor, won't last long. The International Confederation of Wizards under his leadership hasn't been very effective."
"He neither guided wizarding society to understand Muggles, rigidly upholding the Statute of Secrecy without adapting, leading to a deep rift between wizards and Muggles in society. Can you believe that in modern times, when Muggles have already launched satellites into space and the internet is increasingly developed, wizards still maintain their old arrogant disdain for Muggles?"
"He also failed to influence the leaders of Muggle nations to bring about positive change for reconciliation. The upper echelons of Muggle society generally maintain a facade of cooperation with wizards while secretly being wary and confrontational, deliberately guiding ordinary people to view wizards with stereotypical images of evil and low intelligence."
Speaking of these things, she shook her head, her face filled with disdain.
"Dumbledore is undoubtedly powerful, yes, no one can defy his will, but what happens after he dies?"
She gestured for Lockhart to try her mushroom soup, took a sip herself, and continued, "He's that kind of foolish politician, who likes to set up a stupid target, then influences those who oppose him to go under that target, and then forcefully destroys it..."
She laughed. "Can't solve the problem, so solve the people who bring the problem?"
"Did he never consider that perhaps the person who raises the problem might be the person who can solve it in the future?"
"Mr. Grindelwald once said that pure wizards are the future." She gestured in the direction Hermione had left. "You saw it, didn't you? She doesn't look like a wizard at all, more like a Muggle, even though she seems so magically gifted."
"But for her, magic will always be just a means, not the necessary oxygen of life."
"She won't go far; she can never become someone like Dumbledore or even Grindelwald. It's very difficult for her to become a true wizard."
"Gilderoy, you are a true wizard." She looked at Lockhart with such earnestness. "On this foundation, you are full of goodwill towards Muggles, yearning for Muggles and wizards to coexist harmoniously."
"Oh, 'coexist harmoniously' isn't quite right. That's the kind of cooperation after opposition that politicians like to discuss." Her expression was so serious. "We are all humans. Wizards are humans, and Muggles are humans. We are just different groups within the same species."
"The future of the wizarding community is suited for someone like you, walking the path of a wizard, yet highly recognizing Muggles as your own kind."
This kind of discussion...
Lockhart swallowed the strangely flavored soup, his face grim. "Ms. Benítez, you can't do this. While I feel guilty towards you, you're trying to impose your political inclinations on me."
The Forest Witch was immediately a little embarrassed.
She looked at Lockhart apologetically. "Is it that obvious?"
Lockhart nodded, gesturing to her facial expression. "It looks too sincere, so much so that it doesn't seem like casual chat before a friend's departure; it's more like a speech."
"Well, I'm not Grindelwald after all; I can never persuade people." The Forest Witch shrugged somewhat helplessly.
Like a pouting child, she drained the soup in one gulp, then let out a long breath. "Let's make a deal!"
She was quite used to this narrative, often making deals with the forest and its animals.
"The fact that you can't become a werewolf is just a tiny bit off. You're infinitely close to the answer, but you've tamed the beast within you too early, so you always stand outside the threshold of the mysterious."
"Before I completely disappear from this world, I can still exert a little influence in your mind!"
She was like a foot-stomping salesperson hyping her product, full of enthusiasm when talking about this. "You're just lacking a bit of true feeling. I can take you on a journey to experience 'the Call of the Wild,' and I believe this will completely open all the doors to the path of mysterious magic for you!"
"You know, what this can bring you is not just something as simple as becoming a werewolf; that's just a byproduct."
"The modern wizarding system is too foolish. It always treats the negative effects of Dark Arts as downsides, but how could they be downsides? They're incredibly useful in combat."
She spoke of this with great pride. "The prerequisite is that everyone must know how to confine their wildness, like us old-fashioned wizards, and then release it when needed."
While that was true, the population of ancient wizards was far, far smaller. A system of inheritance sustained by natural talent, of course, couldn't adapt to the rapid growth and uneven quality of modern wizards.
The more Lockhart listened to her wondrous talk, the more he sank deeper into his chair, frowning at her. Finally, he couldn't help but interrupt. "This sounds like something that would cost me a great deal to acquire, Ms. Benítez. Could you please first tell me what your part of the deal is?"
The Forest Witch immediately showed an embarrassed smile, making a very small gesture with her hand. "It's just to solve a small problem. You know, Dumbledore is too foolish. The peace he forces down is full of divisions. If the future is influenced by those 'wizards who aren't wizards' like the one just now, Muggles and wizards will never achieve any peace—"
Lockhart stared at her seriously. "Get to the point!"
"Go to Nurmengard and release the great Grindelwald!" The Forest Witch finally blurted out the answer.
"!!!"
Lockhart was stunned.
He looked at the Forest Witch in disbelief. "Even if Dumbledore is as foolish as you describe him, he is still the most powerful wizard of our time! Are you sure that after I do this, I won't be torn apart by his wrath and flushed down the toilet into the sewers?"
The Forest Witch just grinned, a bit awkwardly. "What can be done? The great Grindelwald once saved my life, and I also owe Ms. Vinda Rosier a huge favor. I cannot die with such a debt and regret."
Vinda Rosier, the Black Rose of France, Grindelwald's admirer and follower, a powerful witch capable of wordless Killing Curses. She was equivalent to McGonagall by Dumbledore's side, or Bellatrix by Voldemort's side. It was a pity the man she loved wasn't worth it.
Lockhart looked at her helplessly. "So, you didn't have the courage to do such a crazy thing yourself while alive, and now that you're dead, you've come to me, asking me to do it for you?"
The Forest Witch suddenly became exasperated, pointing her slender finger at the Voyages with Trolls book on the table, leaning forward. "Gilderoy Lockhart, you owe me!"
Lockhart fell silent. He had to admit it; he had gained too much from the Forest Witch.
The gifts of fate always have a price secretly attached.
Some things didn't need to be said aloud. The Forest Witch's most powerful magical ability was curses—the kind where old-fashioned witches would curse people to be werewolves or to sleep forever, even affecting their descendants.
He had to seriously consider the Forest Witch's proposal.
"I can't guarantee I can do it, but I can promise I will try my absolute best," Lockhart didn't say everything. "If you're willing to make this deal, I must warn you that this is as far as I can go."
The Forest Witch smiled. She was clearly satisfied with the negotiation's outcome. "If you had agreed outright, I would have suspected you were just humoring me."
"Then let's begin."
She seemed impatient, snatching off her rather tattered pointed wizard's hat, standing up, and running her hands through her long hair, leaning back. Instantly, she transformed from a frail old witch into a fair-skinned, alluring, mature witch.
Then, she extended a long, slender arm from the sleeve of her wizard's robes, her thin fingernails painted with black polish. She gently cradled Lockhart's face, pressing her forehead against his, and began to softly chant extremely complex ancient runic spells.
Soon, Lockhart changed again. His body began to lengthen, and his head rapidly swelled into a massive werewolf.
The moonlight seemed to condense into dewdrops on his fur, sparkling, and his fur swayed involuntarily in the forest breeze.
"Haha~"
The Forest Witch laughed, stepping back, looking up at the werewolf before her in admiration. "See, your mind has suppressed too much brutality and ferocity. We shouldn't discipline these; we only need to lock them away at the appropriate time and release them when necessary."
She raised her long neck, facing the moonlight. "Come, tear me apart, and make a blood pact with me. I too will completely embrace death and embark on another beautiful journey of life."
Lockhart didn't move. He found that his rationality could still influence his body, which was agitated and consumed by wildness. This prevented him from tearing at her like a beast would its prey.
"You must complete the final blood feast, ignite the brutality in your heart with the power of death, otherwise they will always be restrained by you, and you won't touch the mysterious power."
The Forest Witch raised a hand, gently placing her fingers against the werewolf's chest, and licked her bright red lips. "Let me help you!"
Boom!
Lockhart felt a sudden daze. Everything before his eyes seemed to be drenched in blood, and an intensely potent primal instinct was completely awakened within his heart.
He finally transformed fully into a werewolf, a werewolf symbolizing evil, a werewolf symbolizing the terror of the night. He suddenly extended both claws, grabbed the witch's shoulders, and powerfully bit down on her pale neck.
Blood splattered!
Life vanished!
"Grandma, I forgot to tell you earlier, I met Dad—" An anxious voice suddenly came from a distant corner. The werewolf raised its head, its crimson eyes fixed on the seemingly tender young witch before it.
"Oh my God! Grandma!" Hermione watched the scene before her in disbelief, covering her mouth, her eyes wide.
"Roar~~~" The werewolf threw the corpse from its hands and roared loudly at her, suddenly startling the white horse beneath her. The horse, carrying her, turned and bolted.
However, the werewolf had no intention of letting go of the delicious prey before it, roaring and giving chase.
"Grandma~" Hermione cried mournfully on horseback, clutching the glass bottle to her chest, looking at the pursuing werewolf behind her with such anger.
"Faster, horse, please! I need to find Mr. Beast! I need to make a deal with him! I need him to help me kill this monster that killed Grandma!"
Under the moonlight, snowflakes drifted.
Hermione didn't notice that the white horse beneath her gradually turned silver, running faster and faster, with the distinctive silver mist of the Patronus Charm beginning to swirl around it.
And the werewolf, constantly roaring and furiously chasing behind them, began to emit large amounts of black flames from its body.
....
For early access to advanced chapters on p@treon
p@treon.com/Chaos_God
Thank you so much for your support and for reading