The Gillyflower Ravenclaw Alumni Association possesses a power far beyond what most wizards could imagine. Even Mad-Eye Moody, who helped his wife establish and painstakingly run this association, might not fully grasp the sheer influence of this club.
For the entire following month, Professor Lockhart travelled tirelessly to every corner of the globe, seeking out crucial individuals and groups. Many of these connections were forged and opened up by the Ravenclaw alumni themselves. Even Mr. Malfoy, who fancies himself the most connected wizard in British society, couldn't fathom that a seemingly unassuming editor of The Quibbler magazine, Xenophilius Lovegood, would have a friend who hosted an American wizarding radio show. And this friend's husband was none other than a professor at Ilvermorny School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, bearing the surname Stewart.
Stewart is the surname of Isolt Sayre of the Gaunt family bloodline—one of Ilvermorny's two founders—and her Muggle husband, James Stewart. This Mr. Stewart not only held immense influence within the magical school, but his family's reach extended to every corner of the American wizarding world, including their Ministry of Magic and their bank.
Professor Lockhart had journeyed through the Asian, European, African, Oceanian, and American wizarding societies, and even ventured to the Arctic and Antarctic. He never would have thought that a place like the Arctic, with only icebergs and no solid land, could harbour wizarding tribes. It seemed utterly preposterous! But then, with magic, it wasn't so difficult to comprehend. With a clever use of a Portkey, one's doorstep could be directly connected to Diagon Alley in British wizarding society, not to mention the far simpler and more convenient Floo Network fireplaces.
"I mean..." Lockhart's expression was peculiar as he spoke to Madam Skeeter, who had accompanied him throughout the journey. Stepping out of a fireplace, he went from a hundred-meter glacier back to London. The drastic temperature change jolted his body, making him uncomfortable, so he quickly waved his wand to cast a soothing spell on a rather worse-off Crabbe. "Are there no wizards living under the sea?"
Madam Skeeter blinked. "The legendary Atlantis? It's said to have been destroyed, though, of course, we can't be absolutely certain there are none."
"I can guarantee there aren't any!" exclaimed a bearded member of the Ravenclaw Alumni Association, who had introduced Lockhart to the Arctic wizarding tribe. His beard trembled as he spoke, as if deeply agitated. "My father researched this topic and confirmed it definitively. Firstly, for wizards to live under the sea, there would have to be an abundance of ocean-related magic and magical creations, yet we find no trace of such things in our lives. Secondly..."
The bearded gentleman had a nickname in the association: "Mr. Essay." No matter the topic, his way of speaking always seemed to spin into a full-blown essay, much to the chagrin of many who tried to converse with him. Mr. Essay was quite fond of Lockhart. This was because Lockhart was always filled with curiosity about the world and always listened attentively to what he had to say. It wasn't merely polite listening, but rather a thoughtful engagement, often leading to insightful connections that prompted Mr. Essay to further thought himself. It was a friendship long overdue.
The group chatted idly as they exited the Ministry of Magic's Public Floo Network Atrium, stepping outside to feel the warm sunlight. Finally, the peculiar chill of the glaciers began to recede.
Now, it was time to say their goodbyes.
"Thank you for all your help!" Lockhart's gratitude was sincere as he looked at Madam Skeeter and Mr. Essay. "The assistance everyone provided was immense; without you, I wouldn't have known how to manage such a global distribution!"
Madam Skeeter was about to speak when she suddenly saw Mr. Essay point at her and address Lockhart. "Your establishment of these channels is a monumental achievement; it will bring far more than just distributing this book! Professor Lockhart, you should be wary of Madam Skeeter here. She's followed you every step of the way, and now, besides you, she's probably the only one who can effectively utilize this formidable global book distribution network!"
"What in Merlin's beard are you talking about?!" Madam Skeeter was aghast, glaring at the bookish wizard beside her, utterly incensed and feeling incredibly wronged. "I followed him everywhere, from the hottest parts of Africa to the coldest parts of the Arctic! I was there to help, not to reap rewards! I am utterly loyal to Mr. Lockhart!" She was quite beside herself. She had put in so much effort, through thick and thin, only to be met with suspicion. Anyone would be upset.
"Now, now, we can't say that about Rita," Lockhart's smile was always so gentle, soothing the agitated emotions of everyone around him. "I'm incredibly grateful for her help, truly. Sometimes I find I'm not very good at dealing with certain people, and if it weren't for her, I wouldn't know what to do."
"You possess enough charm to conquer all!" Mr. Essay's voice took on a unique, almost operatic quality as he spoke, as if singing.
Well, I'll be! Madam Skeeter realized that the bookworm wasn't warning Lockhart to be wary of her at all; he was trying to curry favour! The nerve of him! I was the first to follow Mr. Lockhart! Did he not understand the value of being first? Did he not?! Thankfully, Mr. Lockhart acknowledged her efforts, and she was so touched, she was nearly in tears.
Regardless, their expedition had come to an end. After Mr. Essay departed, Madam Skeeter's expression grew tense. "Mr. Lockhart, I must warn you, your new book has been widely distributed in the most important countries. You must be careful!"
Careful of what? Of course, the Dark Lord and his minions. Ravenclaws always had well-informed intelligence channels and knew the immense influence this book would wield, how many undercurrents it would stir, and how fanatical some people might become.
"When is the official release?" Lockhart rubbed his slightly tired nose. Running around the globe lately had blurred day and night into a confusing mess; time itself seemed to lose all meaning in his life's experiences.
"Tomorrow, but the word is already out!" Madam Skeeter appeared exceptionally serious.
"It seems it's time to lay low for a bit," Lockhart's expression shifted, and he glanced at a rather nervous Ministry of Magic employee in the Public Floo Network Atrium, who was secretly watching him. "You should be careful too."
"No one can catch me!" Madam Skeeter replied with great confidence. As a journalist who enjoyed exposing celebrities and powerful figures, there were many who wished her ill, even wished her dead, but she clearly had her own ways of surviving.
"I hope so," Lockhart said, giving Madam Skeeter a deep look, a smile gracing his face. "Time will prove us right. Everything will begin with this book."
"Yes!" A strange sense of reverence filled Madam Skeeter's face, and she bowed slightly. "I am honoured to accompany you on such a wondrous journey, sir."
CRACK!
CRACK!
With sounds of tearing space, everyone Apparated away simultaneously, leaving only the Ministry of Magic employee in the distance, frantically writing a message to send by owl, reporting Lockhart's whereabouts.
Austria, Nurmengard Castle.
Vincent Crabbe, who had Apparated along, shook his slightly muddled head, recovering from the discomfort of multiple intense Apparitions. He then waved his wand, casting the "Soul Bonfire" spell. A warm, orange-red glow spread from his feet, its flickering light illuminating the hem of his wizard's robes, bringing a soothing sensation to his soul and Professor Lockhart's. With continuous deep exploration and use, he had gained a profound understanding of this magic, no longer needing to rely on an actual bonfire to cast it.
Of course, merely his unique, pure spiritual intuition and his bloodline's natural affinity for fire magic couldn't have brought him to this level so quickly. The true reason for his progress was the regular discussions and exchanges he had with Lockhart every two or three days. The combination of wisdom and talent doesn't always have to appear in one person; it can also be achieved collaboratively through communication.
As long as one chooses the right magic. Wizards choose magic, and magic also chooses wizards. Healing, comforting, calming—this unique magical power was gradually changing Crabbe's magical essence and his mindset. In turn, he willingly embraced these changes, even actively welcoming them, which further enhanced the spell's effects. Professor Lockhart was right; he could indeed become a revered master of magic.
Vincent Crabbe didn't know how to express his emotions, simply and quietly casting the Soul Bonfire whenever his professor needed it. During this journey, other Ravenclaw alumni had also discovered the wonder of this young wizard's magic. One particularly insightful individual had a sudden thought and asked Professor Lockhart, "Can this magic heal the soul damage caused by the Cruciatus Curse?"
Lockhart didn't know. Lockhart didn't know everything. But this question did give him and his apprentice an idea. Lockhart planned to write to another student, asking if Neville's parents would be willing to participate in this research. After all, they were the only two people he knew who had been harmed by the Cruciatus Curse.
The healing of the damage inflicted upon Neville's parents by Death Eaters, achieved by the child of a Death Eater, was clearly an act brimming with the potential for redemption. Everyone had to bear their own responsibilities and lives. Vincent Crabbe made no comment on this, merely practicing the spell more diligently in silence.
Of course, this would require time, allowing Crabbe more time to grow and for this magic to become even more powerful. Otherwise, giving hope only to have it shattered would be too devastating for Neville.
"Good progress!" Lockhart exclaimed, his eyes lighting up as he felt the soul-soothing effect of the fiery glow from the ground, giving a thumbs-up.
Crabbe smiled sheepishly, scratching his head, quietly swallowing a piece of chicken drumstick. His fondness for eating had become even more pronounced after he embarked on his magical journey, though whether this was good or bad, only time would tell.