Dumbledore found himself utterly unable to command the two individuals before him. Indeed, neither Grindelwald nor Lockhart paid him any mind. He was, to put it mildly, quite vexed. Yet, no matter his irritation, this was undeniably a moment of extreme peril. He could not permit Gellert to inflict any unforeseen consequences upon Lockhart, nor could he allow Lockhart to simply dispatch Gellert then and there.
His expression shifted for a moment, and then, finally, he made his decision. With a sudden flourish of the Elder Wand, vibrant streams of light, like a rainbow, erupted from its tip, completely enveloping and binding Gellert. This was both to prevent him from casting further spells and to protect him. Then, with a forceful flick of the Elder Wand, a tremendous bang echoed through the air as he Apparated away with Gellert, landing in the open valley outside Nurmengard Castle.
Boom!
A colossal roar reverberated, and Dumbledore quickly looked up. He saw that the monstrous werewolf, now unchecked by his opposing force, had utterly annihilated the castle before them, crushing it as if it were a toy castle made of building blocks.
"ROAR~~~"
Having demolished the castle, the werewolf stretched its arms, roaring furiously at the sky. Countless bolts of lightning, like maddened serpents, lashed down, striking the werewolf's massive form.
"Have young wizards already reached this level?" Grindelwald, with only his head visible from beneath the colourful bandages binding him, looked up at the sky with keen interest. "He's conjured something akin to an Obscurus, yet it's a Patronus whose very nature is the complete opposite. And now, there's a werewolf, again the opposite of a Patronus, but not an Obscurus?"
"Self-restraint, self-balance—a truly fascinating magical path."
"Oh, I believe I've just glimpsed the path for cultivating Dark magical creatures, haven't I, Albus? Doesn't this remind you of the path for Dark magical creatures? Long ago, we discussed research into pure-blood wizards crossbreeding with magical creatures to acquire their bloodlines..."
Gellert spoke voluminously, appearing utterly carefree and delighted. And why wouldn't he be? Nurmengard, the prison that had held him for nearly fifty years, had collapsed! Haha, it had collapsed! What a delightful turn of events!
But for every joy, there was a sorrow.
Dumbledore, rather vexed, looked at the colossal werewolf, which seemed to scrape the very clouds. His irritation grew. "How am I supposed to help him?" he asked coldly.
"Help him with what?" Grindelwald asked, a faint smile playing on his lips.
"You know what, don't be coy with me!" Dumbledore snapped, thoroughly annoyed.
"He's merely reconstructing his own balance, it's as simple as that."
"He understands how to contend with an excess of positive power, seeking to cage even that benevolent force. I have seen it in the future; he will be quite alright."
Grindelwald looked at Dumbledore with a complex expression. "I studied Obscurials for far too long, Albus. That path is far more potent than merely integrating magical creature blood—it's the fusion of magical bloodlines!"
"Albus, I actually found a way to cure Obscurials, you know. I know it's far, far too late, but I truly did find it." His voice held a bitter edge, causing Dumbledore, who had his back turned, to cast a gloomy glance over his shoulder.
"What good is speaking of such things now..." Dumbledore's voice was hoarse. "Ariana has been gone for nearly a century."
How terrifying a thing time was. Ariana had died sometime in 1899; now, in 1993, ninety-four years had passed. A century was far too long, making every day an ordeal. Yet, a century was also far too brief, as if everything had happened only yesterday. And the cruelest irony was that a chance at salvation had once been presented to both of them. His brother Aberforth's son, Credence, also exhibited Obscurial symptoms and came before them. They should have had the chance to rectify that mistake, but plunged back into war, they missed their opportunity once more. And now, Obscurials were exceedingly rare; what good was it to have discovered a cure now?
"Tell me!" Dumbledore finally turned to face Grindelwald directly. "Tell me what to do to help this young man. You must understand, we cannot go on hurting others simply to achieve our own ends."
Grindelwald pursed his lips, remained silent for a long moment, then finally sighed. "Human-Form Restoration Charm. This spell can address his current condition. Of course, it's also a temporary solution for when an Obscurial is active."
"This magic isn't just for turning someone back into human form. When a person maintains their normal human shape and integrity, their self-will also becomes complete, sufficient to resist the encroachment of external forces with their own magical power."
Dumbledore gave him a deep look, nodded, then once again raised the Elder Wand and swiftly cast the spell.
"Restoration~"
"Human-Form!"
A top-tier wizard's magical power, amplified by a top-tier wand, commanded all with an unyielding will. The colossal werewolf shadow in the sky rapidly collapsed, transforming into a swirling mass of black smoke that writhed and drifted mid-air. Faintly, shimmering silver-white light could be seen surging within, as the two forces rapidly merged, contended, and vied for dominance.
Bang!
The black smoke slammed into the ground, reforming into Lockhart. Crabbe, who had apparently fainted at some point, lay sprawled nearby. Several figures of Dark magical creatures swiftly vanished into Lockhart's wide wizarding robes.
Lockhart stood motionless, his wand held aloft. The lightning in the sky began to subside, though the gloomy heavens continued to churn, giving birth to more dark clouds that pressed down upon the world, making it dim and oppressive. Occasionally, the clouds would tear open, allowing golden sunlight to stream through. Finally, with a long exhalation, he gave a shake of his wand. A magnificent silver Pegasus, as large as a Welsh Green dragon, descended from the sky, swiftly darting towards him before exploding into shimmering silver particles and vanishing.
"How do you feel?" Grindelwald asked, brimming with curiosity, twisting his bandage-bound body, trying to get closer, craning his neck for a better look.
Lockhart offered Dumbledore a grateful smile, then rolled his eyes at Grindelwald. "I've caged both the good and the malicious, but it's different now. A part of them has merged with my body, no longer obeying my mind's command, becoming physical instinct."
This demonstrated an incredibly high level of understanding, a clear grasp of the distinction between mind, thought, and body. Communicating with two master wizards meant there was no need to delve into basic principles to explain things; communication flowed unhindered.
Grindelwald clicked his tongue, clearly dissatisfied. "So all my efforts merely granted you a bit more magical resistance, like a magical creature?"
"You're still talking!" Dumbledore snapped, a hint of anger in his voice. "A body no longer obeying the will of the soul, gaining more physical instincts when faced with challenges—how terrifying is that! Gellert, look what you've done!"
"But that's the human condition, isn't it?" Grindelwald countered. "Don't always strive for extremes. If you wish to walk the path of a master wizard while remaining a normal person, some sacrifice is necessary. Otherwise, one will ultimately become a beast, a Dark magical creature. What meaning is there in power then?"
It seemed... there was some truth to that.
Dumbledore sneered, "That sounds very well and good, but tell me, why don't I need to be this way? Why don't you? Why is it only Gilderoy who must?"
"Can it truly be the same?" Grindelwald sighed. "Because our hearts are burdened; we no longer need external forces to prevent us from becoming less than human."
Having endured so much suffering in life, the deeply felt experience of human pain would naturally tether them. Lockhart, having manifested his Patronus to such a spiritual degree, was clearly unlike those who had been toyed with by fate.
"So, you're actually quite benevolent, then?" Dumbledore said, laced with sarcasm, to Grindelwald.
"Of course." Grindelwald smiled at Lockhart. "No need to thank me; you helped me destroy my cursed prison. We're even now."
At the mention of this, Dumbledore felt a fresh surge of irritation. He rubbed his fingers, gazing with a complex expression at the ruins of Nurmengard, now collapsed into a heap. This was clearly not something a simple Reparo Charm could fix. What had truly confined Grindelwald were the intricate magical mechanisms within, not merely the stone of a castle.
"What shall I do with you now?" Dumbledore asked Old Gellert, utterly exasperated. "Send you to Azkaban?"
"You could, I think that would be rather nice," Grindelwald replied, smiling. Of course, he'd be delighted to go to Azkaban! That wretched place couldn't hold him for a moment; he could break out in minutes, just to spite Dumbledore. In fact... Dumbledore suspected that if he genuinely sent Gellert to Azkaban, Gellert might not even leave. Instead, he'd probably persuade all the prisoners, Aurors, and even the Dementors to become his loyal followers. It wasn't impossible; Gellert had done such things before.
How vexing!
Dumbledore turned to Lockhart, a helpless look on his face. "I should never have allowed you two to meet. This is my fault."
Lockhart shrugged. "It's alright; there are gains and losses. I don't mind, especially since I had also intended to ask Mr. Grindelwald for advice on controlling Obscurial power. However, regarding how to deal with Mr. Grindelwald, I do have a suggestion."
Dumbledore blinked, surprised that Lockhart might have an idea. Even Grindelwald looked at Lockhart with keen curiosity.
"The Defence Against the Dark Arts professor at Hogwarts. I imagine he wouldn't be afraid of Tom's curse."
"Ha!" Dumbledore burst out laughing, utterly flabbergasted by the ridiculousness of the suggestion. "Him? Defence Against the Dark Arts?"
Lockhart simply smiled.
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