Harry Potter: Don't Touch the Badger's Plants

Chapter 293: Lockhart, Shadow, and Petrification

The scarred wizard's sharp question brought immediate response from the other three Dark wizards. Several wands snapped toward the thicket, dangerous magic gathering at their tips.

A figure emerged from the bushes wearing bright purple robes, his hair carefully styled. At first glance, he looked glamorous and polished. But his expensive robes were now covered in mud and leaves. His carefully styled hair was disheveled. That famous face was pale with barely controlled fear.

The Dark Wizards froze. One exclaimed, "Gilderoy Lockhart?!"

The scarred wizard—Rotfly Shume—frowned. "Who's this? You know him?"

The Dark wizard who'd recognized Gilderoy Lockhart shook his head rapidly. "No, no—but he's famous. Really famous. He's written loads of books—Travels with Vampires, Travels with Giants, Travels with Yetis. He's got an Order of Merlin, Third Class. Won a Witch Weekly Most Charming Smile Award. This guy's a celebrity wizard!"

While the Dark wizard rattled off Lockhart's credentials, Lockhart was cursing his terrible luck. He'd heard that a few wizards lived in seclusion nearby—including Dark wizards who'd returned from Scandinavia's underworld, supposedly with legendary stories to tell but tired of constant fighting. They'd come back to Britain to hide.

Perfect material for his next book. That's why he'd come searching.

Who could've imagined he'd stumble into this? Bragging was one thing when he was safe at home, but facing genuinely murderous Dark wizards? He knew his own limitations.

Desperately trying to keep his gaze from drifting toward the gnawed corpse, Lockhart fought to suppress the trembling in his voice. "Gentlemen—what a coincidence, meeting in such wilderness—this must be fate. I have a suggestion—how about we pretend nobody saw anybody, forget today's events? You seem busy, and I need to prepare my new book—shall we part ways here?"

The Dark Wizards' wands didn't waver. Lockhart's voice gradually weakened.

The scarred wizard questioned his companion. "You seem to know a lot about his achievements?"

That Dark wizard revealed a smile, licking his lips. "I use his photos from Witch Weekly as... entertainment. You know me, Boss—since the Dark Magic transformation, I'm stronger, but my tastes have become more... specialized. A premium specimen like this? I'll take fewer Galleons—just give him to me."

The scarred wizard's furrowed brow relaxed. If he could get more money, he was willing.

The Dark wizard walked excitedly toward Lockhart. After hearing their conversation, the last trace of color had vanished from Lockhart's face. "You—don't come any closer!"

Seeing Lockhart's pathetic panic, the other Dark wizards, including the scarred wizard, all showed cruel smiles. Wands lowered. Not that they were underestimating enemies—just that everyone knew the key to wizard spellcasting was firm will.

With Lockhart this panicked, even if he possessed high magical ability, he couldn't display much. If they—Dark wizards who'd survived ambushing Snape—failed against this Lockhart, that would be laughable. The Dark wizard approaching Lockhart thought the same.

He looked at Lockhart, licking his lips again. "Don't worry, Sir Lockhart. I won't damage your pretty face—after all, I truly love your smile. Now then, I suggest you lower that wand. Don't make this difficult, or I can't guarantee what happens next."

Terror flooded Lockhart's face as he watched helplessly while the figure closed in. He wanted to fight back, but years of fraud had left him utterly unprepared. Without any real magical training or the backbone to back up his claims, even the simplest defensive spell felt beyond his reach.

Meanwhile, hidden in the shadows, another pair of eyes observed the scene. Ciel stared in disbelief. Of all people—Lockhart? I never expected the butterfly effect to drag him into this mess. From what he could see, if he didn't intervene, the famous fraud would spend the rest of his days as a Dark wizard's plaything.

Ciel's eyes narrowed as he quickly scanned the Dark Wizards. Though the original story never mentioned these men, whether from Snape being ambushed and severely injured, or Lucius's grave expression when mentioning someone called Rotfly Shume, all proved they were far from ordinary.

Moreover, Ciel could see they all bore traces of Dark Magic Transfiguration. Though completely different from Voldemort's methods, their magical perception and intensity far exceeded ordinary wizards. Thorough desperados.

Even though Ciel had experienced dozens of battles with Gess in illusions and was quite confident in his combat abilities, why not avoid some risk if possible? His powerful mental strength allowed him to quickly analyze the situation. Moments later, a battle plan had already formed.

The Dark wizard reached Lockhart's face, extending his tongue, about to lick Lockhart with perverse intent. Lockhart's expression had already twisted. Even though spells were completely blank in his mind, he still instinctively closed his eyes and wildly waved his wand. "Stay away from me!"

The next second, from the scattered thicket, a shadow condensed into a blade. It extended silently from the ground and sliced the Dark wizard's neck. The Dark wizard fell with a thump.

Hearing the dull sound, Lockhart confusedly opened his eyes. His wand was still pointed where the now lifeless Dark wizard lay. After being startled, Lockhart's eyes showed confusion. I just closed my eyes and waved—this vicious, perverted Dark wizard just... died like that?!

Lockhart swallowed hard, looking at himself somewhat incredulously. "I-I'm this strong?"

Moments later, elation swept over him. "Of course! I'm an Order of Merlin, Third Class medal holder, Dark Force Defense League honorary member, five-time Witch Weekly Most Charming Smile Award winner, twenty-three consecutive weeks on the bestseller list—of course I'm this strong!"

His previously trembling hand immediately steadied. He even performed a flashy flourish with his wand, spinning it like a dancer's ribbon.

The remaining scarred wizard and three Dark Wizards fell into deathly silence. They couldn't believe what they'd seen. Their capable companion was so cleanly killed by Lockhart? This guy had clearly looked like a worthless coward just moments ago!

"Wait, wait—" The three exchanged glances. Lockhart's wand was suddenly so steady. Compared to before, he was a completely different person. Suddenly, realization dawned. "This guy was acting! Despicable! I knew it—how could an Order of Merlin member be such a coward? He was probably waiting here deliberately! Kill him! Attack together! No more time to waste!"

The scarred wizard's expression turned grave. Without hesitation, his wand suddenly raised toward Lockhart, ghastly green light gathering at the tip. "Avada Kedavra!"

Three green lights howled toward Lockhart. His proud expression immediately became terrified. Killing Curses?!

In that instant, shadows silently wrapped around Lockhart's body. An invisible force pulled him, at the critical moment, finding an angle to dodge all three green lights in a dance-like motion.

Witnessing this, the three Dark Wizards immediately confirmed their suspicions. With their three tricky angles, Lockhart found direction to dodge so quickly—this guy's combat experience was absolutely extensive, not inferior to their blood-soaked careers. "Expert!"

After Lockhart steadied himself, he grew increasingly confident, certain he possessed some special power. He revealed his trademark charming smile. "What's that phrase again? I gave you chances to end this peacefully, but you insisted on pressing forward. Poor Dark Wizards, I'm truly sorry. I'm laying my cards on the table—no more pretending. I'll write about defeating you in my next book—"

While Lockhart talked endlessly, the three Dark Wizards' attention was locked dead on his wand, always guarding against this powerful wizard's counterattack. But while their attention was fixated, a shadow swiftly passed and pierced another Dark wizard's heart. The Dark wizard fell with a thump.

Now only the scarred wizard and one other Dark wizard remained. They exchanged glances, terror already flooding their eyes. What magic did Lockhart just cast? He was constantly talking—his wand didn't even move. Wandless, silent casting with instant-kill magic? Not even Snape can do that!

They'd bitten off more than they could chew. Both men immediately abandoned any thought of fighting Lockhart, their minds fixed solely on escape. Then, in a moment of perfect treachery, they turned on each other—both firing spells simultaneously, each trying to sacrifice the other as bait to buy themselves time.

But the scarred wizard was faster. Before his companion's spell finished forming, his wand flashed red. The other Dark wizard was hurled through the air, tumbling helplessly toward Lockhart. The scarred wizard seized his chance and bolted into the trees.

Ciel's eyes glinted coldly. With a flick of his wand, another shadow blade sliced through the darkness, bisecting the airborne Dark wizard before he even hit the ground. Ignoring Lockhart's oblivious celebration, Ciel melted into the shadows and pursued the fleeing leader.

So far, everything was proceeding exactly as planned. Using Lockhart as an unwitting cover, his ancient shadow magic in this dark environment made the kills almost effortless. Combined with his combat expertise honed over a lifetime, his timing was flawless—striking at the precise instant his targets were most vulnerable.

Even these vicious Dark wizards couldn't unleash their full magical arsenal before being cut down. Wizards are fragile when caught off-guard. Still, as Ciel's gaze locked onto the fleeing scarred wizard ahead, his expression remained tense and focused.

This Dark wizard was the strongest of the group. The maggots and flies writhing in his wound showed his body had undergone grotesque Dark Magic transformations. Having successfully ambushed and severely injured Snape, he wasn't someone Ciel could afford to underestimate. His magical perception and combat experience far exceeded the others.

After fleeing the scene, the scarred wizard's instincts began screaming warnings. Something's wrong. If Lockhart were truly that powerful, he'd be infamous—like Mad-Eye Moody or Snape. That feeling back there was all wrong. There's someone else!

The instant realization hit him, and shadows erupted from every direction, stabbing toward his vital points like living blades. In a heartbeat, his body was riddled with deep, gaping wounds. Any normal wizard would have died instantly.

But the scarred wizard merely stumbled twice before steadying himself. More than that—he'd already pinpointed the source of the attack, his venomous gaze locking onto Ciel's position in the shadows. "So you're hiding in the dark, are you?" His voice dripped with malice. "Lucky for me—if not for my transformations, you'd have killed me with that first strike. But since you failed..." A twisted grin split his face. "Now you die!"

Before he'd even finished speaking, a deafening buzzing erupted from his wounds. Fly after fly, each reeking of rot and decay, burst from the torn flesh. Their bulbous compound eyes fixed on Ciel's location with unnatural focus. The scarred wizard's grin widened into something truly monstrous.

Previously in the melee, he'd been hit in the left arm by Snape's Sectumsempra. Snape had thought he'd lost combat ability and relaxed his guard. The result? Flies flew from his left arm wound. These Dark Magic-crafted flies could penetrate most protective magic and had extremely high resistance to common flame spells.

Even though Snape reacted extremely fast, consecutively using several magic types for disposal, none worked at first. By the time he used Fiendfyre, one barely-alive fly had penetrated the flames and bit Snape. Just that one fly's vicious magic immediately made Snape sway.

If Snape had been any slower, he might've died at Spinner's End. Now these several wounds could release over ten times more flies than before. This battle—he'd won.

Ciel looked at the scarred wizard and flies rapidly swarming from his body toward himself, face full of disgust and coldness. So this Dark Magic transformation method had successfully ambushed Snape in the melee.

But for Ciel, possessing Magic-Resistant Scales, even if surrounded by these flies biting him, they couldn't break through. Of course, he naturally wouldn't carelessly give these flies chances to approach.

Use full strength even when catching rabbits! For handling these Dark Magic-transformed creatures, Ciel had better-used magic than flames. In his eyes, cold magic surged. On the system panel, diamond-level Petrifying Eyes blazed brilliantly.

Rare magic flowed out following Ciel's gaze. The next moment, everywhere his eyes reached, those buzzing flies quieted down—one by one turning to stone, clattering to the ground.

The scarred wizard's eyes widened, terror flooding his voice. "Petrification magic—" This extremely rare magic—his flies had absolutely no resistance. Again, shadow, again petrification—exactly what background is this wizard? Why all such obscure, powerful magic?!

He turned to flee. But how could his fleeing speed compare to Ciel's gaze? Just taking a step, the scarred wizard suddenly felt his body grow heavy, then fell heavily to the ground. Peripheral vision could only see a pale, deathly, stone-like color rapidly spreading along his body.

"Who are you? Here for the Alihotsy? Or to silence us? In Britain's magical world, I've never heard of a wizard like you."

His final inquiry received no response. A shadow silently appeared, swallowing the scarred wizard's remaining head.

Not until the ancient shadow magic's Black Shadow Legion gained this shadow-eroded head did Ciel exhale softly. This band that dared to ambush Snape and Lucius—these desperados were finally completely annihilated.

But his expression showed no relaxation. Instead, it grew graver. After all, these Dark wizards had almost all undergone Dark Magic transformation—definitely not comparable to ordinary Dark wizards. But from their actions, from the start, they never thought they could contend with the masterminds.

Their entire purpose was to buy escape time. This made Ciel even more wary of the mastermind's power. With a wand wave, that head emerged from the shadows again. Differently, now its eyes were entirely occupied by the shadow's pitch-black color.

Ciel inquired, "Who hired you? Where did you learn the Alihotsy exchange time and place?"

The head opened its mouth, seemingly searching residual memories, wanting to answer Ciel's question. But moments later, its already hollow expression grew even more bewildered. "Don't know... I—I forgot?"

The head returned to silence. Ciel's brows immediately furrowed. He asked several more times—other matters, this head could answer. Only regarding who hired it, even the smallest details yielded nothing.

Ciel drew a deep breath. Some powerful contract, or some strange magic, ensuring these hired ones have no possibility of leaking information? Such meticulous methods...

Recalling how swiftly they'd erased all evidence at Spinner's End, how every investigation the Malfoy family launched afterward hit a dead end, Ciel's expression grew increasingly grim. He was beginning to understand the weight of Snape's warning. He was in over his head.

Though he'd learned nothing concrete about the masterminds' power or identity, the situation wasn't entirely bleak. First, he'd recovered a package the scarred wizard had been carrying—the stolen batch of Alihotsy. At least his investment was secure, and his cultivation plans could proceed on schedule.

Second, the masterminds' cautious approach actually revealed something important: they had vulnerabilities. They clearly didn't want their identity exposed. Otherwise, if they possessed power on the level of Dumbledore or Voldemort, why bother with such elaborate schemes over Alihotsy's profits?

The attack on Snape and Lucius hadn't been meant to kill—they'd been after the Alihotsy itself, likely trying to trace it back to its source. But now, thanks to the Dark Wizards' betrayal, that plan had failed spectacularly. In the short term, the masterminds probably wouldn't risk another move.

After all, Snape's severe injuries this time would definitely draw Dumbledore's attention. And while Dumbledore drew breath, even the darkest forces would think twice before making a move.

All right. Focus on what matters. Ciel took a steadying breath and let go of his pursuit of the masterminds—for now. As long as they left his cultivation work alone, his priority was clear: grow stronger while Dumbledore still lived and the magical world remained stable.

Give him another two or three years, and these threats that seemed insurmountable now would be trivial obstacles he could brush aside. But one critical question remained: How had the information leaked?

Without answering this question, even if the masterminds held back temporarily, they could eventually uncover the truth and trace everything back to him—an unacceptable risk.

Theory after theory flashed through his mind, each one dismissed in turn. Snape's attention to detail was legendary. Lucius Malfoy understood the fortune at stake with the purified Alihotsy business—he would have been obsessively careful. And Malfoy Manor had layers upon layers of protective enchantments.

Without his ancient shadow magic, infiltrating undetected would have been impossible for Ciel. So how had the masterminds gotten their information?

It had to be something so commonplace no one would question it. Something that could go anywhere without raising suspicion—even from wizards as paranoid as Snape and Lucius...

Suddenly, realization struck like lightning. Could it be—them?