It was impossible to stay put, because Lockhart's behavior was becoming increasingly terrifying—terrifying in a way that anyone with eyes could see was far beyond what students could handle.
Alongside Hermione, Neville, and a few other shaman apprentices, Professor Flitwick burst into the scene. The spry little wizard swiftly waved his wand, unleashing a barrage of flames, lightning, ice, and pure wizarding spells aimed at Lockhart.
Flitwick was rapidly testing which of Lockhart's defenses were strongest, but he soon realized that no matter what spell or type of damage he used, it seemed to have no effect on Lockhart at this moment.
Little could be seen of Lockhart's body, but his exposed skin was covered in jagged cracks, as if he were a porcelain figure on the verge of shattering. Yet, from those cracks, no blood flowed—instead, there was... green light?
Something was lurking within Lockhart's body, and Lockhart himself seemed completely unaware of it, as he was sprawled on the floor, frantically tracing magical runes, muttering incessantly.
"This can't be! This can't be!"
There was no time to deal with Lockhart's issue. This was clearly not something easily resolved, so Flitwick decided to leave it to Dumbledore or Harry Potter when they returned. For now, his priority was to rescue the bound students.
Lockhart was possessed, so far gone that he didn't even notice the students he'd painstakingly tied up being freed one by one as their ropes were cut. His mind seemed trapped in that earlier moment, unable to break free.
To the others, Lockhart's condition was growing more severe by the second.
"…This can't be! Something's gone wrong. I need to check, I need to check… This can't be! You—FOOL!"
Lockhart's voice grew stranger, less human, more like the roar of a beast or some other bizarre creature—until he let out a sudden, guttural bellow.
"Because you are the sacrifice, mortal! You are the beacon to mark this world's coordinates for me!"
That voice, lurking within Lockhart's body, finally separated from him.
As he roared, Lockhart's consciousness seemed to snap back into his body. He stared in horror at his hands—hands now corrupted by Fel magic, cracked and withered.
"This can't be!" Lockhart let out a piercing scream, clawing at his hair. The locks he'd once prided himself on fell like dried leaves. "Why?! This isn't how it's supposed to be! I was meant to be the next Dumbledore! Why?! WHY?!"
There was no time to linger on Lockhart's transformation. Flitwick had already led the students out of there, racing to warn the rest of the castle.
"Ah, such a tantalizingly corrupted soul," the voice within Lockhart mused with relish. "If I didn't need a beacon to open a portal between the Twisting Nether and this reality, I'd savor its taste."
As the voice spoke, Lockhart's pained cries weakened, and the underground classroom filled with green light. Amid his wails, a portal wreathed in green flames materialized at the center of the magical array.
Soon, a creature stepped through the portal—a being with massive, sharp hooves, reverse-jointed knees, and a pair of grotesque, tri-segmented bone wings on its back. If Harry were here, he would've instantly recognized it: an Aranasi.
This spider-like demonic race had their homeworld conquered by the Burning Legion long ago, transformed into a new kind of demon and scattered across the Twisting Nether for eons.
The Twisting Nether was the home of all demons. When they died in the physical world, unless special measures were taken to intercept and destroy their souls, they would return to the Nether, reviving over time. Yet, even the demons of the Burning Legion were but a fraction of the Nether's vastness.
"Hiss… such clean air," the demon inhaled deeply. "No stench of the Light, no repulsive Shadow. This place will make a perfect nest for the Spider Mother."
"Lannaxx! Don't forget your promise to me!" A male voice suddenly erupted from Lockhart's body.
"Ah, my little partner," the female Aranasi demon flashed a dangerous smile, her mouth full of razor-sharp teeth that belied any friendliness. "Of course I remember our deal. But… you're just a soul fragment, aren't you?"
Without warning, Lannaxx struck. Her bone wings pierced through Lockhart's body—or rather, through something hidden in his robes: a pitch-black diary.
"What are you doing?!" the male voice roared, now furious. "Are you breaking our pact?!"
"Breaking pacts is a demon's nature, human. Though, for a mere soul fragment, you're impressively steeped in darkness and madness—hm?" Lannaxx paused, surprised, as the black diary faintly dissolved into the air.
"I knew demons had no honor," the voice said. "But it doesn't matter. Your presence here is enough."
"Is this… this world's magic?" Lannaxx flicked her bone wings, as if shaking off a filthy rag. Finding nothing else, she tossed Lockhart's body to the ground in boredom.
"Interesting… but only mildly so." Lannaxx raised a hand, and Lockhart's corpse suddenly exploded into a pool of yellowish-green liquid. From it, countless translucent, palm-sized yellow spiderlings erupted.
"Go, my children… claim this world for the Spider Mother."
Like a tidal wave, the swarm of spiderlings surged out of the underground classroom, upward and outward.
Hogwarts, ever plagued by calamity.
Looking back, it seemed that since last year, Hogwarts had been under constant attack by all manner of people or things. And the enemies were only growing stronger—from Death Eaters to the Basilisk, and now… demons!
Professor McGonagall was grateful that, since the Basilisk incident, the school had established a permanent patrol of professors. With the aid of magic, students were being evacuated as quickly as possible, with alarms amplified by Sonorus charms echoing through every corner of Hogwarts.
In such an emergency, Hogwarts' small student population turned out to be a blessing. McGonagall couldn't imagine how they'd manage to protect thousands of students, like in Muggle schools, during a crisis like this.
Some bold students might even think the professors were playing a prank. After all, in the wake of the Basilisk attacks, Hogwarts had conducted several emergency evacuation drills and held classes on how young witches and wizards could protect themselves in dangerous situations.
Those drills were initially just a precaution against further Basilisk attacks. Once it was confirmed there was no second Basilisk in the Chamber of Secrets, they'd stopped. No one expected they'd actually need them again.
The lively elementals, often seen as nuisances due to their sheer numbers, proved useful now. When Hermione and her fellow shaman apprentices reported Ron's disappearance, and Luna's divination revealed he was in Lockhart's clutches, McGonagall had already begun addressing the professor-turned-threat.
But when Flitwick burst onto the grounds with a group of rescued students, shouting for everyone to evacuate, Hogwarts' castle revealed its wartime face for the first time in ages.
When Filch used a Scrying spell to show McGonagall the state of the underground classroom, she didn't hesitate. In Dumbledore's absence, as Hogwarts' deputy headmistress, it was her duty—and her responsibility—to protect every young witch and wizard.
"Gargoyles, activate!"
From the top of the Astronomy Tower, McGonagall waved her wand, triggering the castle's defensive systems.
As the shrieking spider demons surged from the underground corridors into the Great Hall, they were met with heavy stone and steel axes and blades, cleaving several in half.
The castle's countless suits of armor and statues, lining the corridors and courtyards, came to life, transforming into soldiers that held the line against the demonic onslaught.
They could be killed—easily, even. These creatures weren't intangible spirits or undead like Dementors, which gave McGonagall some relief. Spells like Stupefy or Reducto worked on them. The only problem was their numbers.
The swarms of tiny spiderlings were no issue—each movement of the statues crushed dozens. The real threat came from the larger spiders and the humanoid-arachnid hybrids mixed in with the swarm.
These creatures not only skittered freely along the castle's ceilings with their webbing but were also covered in hard carapaces. Some armor swung weapons only to snap their own handles against the demons' shells.
These weren't purpose-built combat constructs, and their weapons weren't legendary artifacts. Their only advantage was their disposability—truly expendable.
They could be transfigured at will. Even when broken or shattered, their fragments would reform under Transfiguration into new soldiers wielding knives, spears, or axes.
Yet, despite these convenient disposable troops, the castle's defenses were collapsing rapidly. The spider demons didn't just have tough carapaces; they wielded corrosive venom and—magic.
Green Fel flames wreathed some of the humanoid spider demons. Cackling wildly, they used the fire to obliterate everything in their path. Statues consumed by the Fel flames couldn't rise again, as if their very essence had been drained, reduced to ash.
"Minerva! The students are fully evacuated!" Flitwick shouted, blasting a lunging spider demon to pieces with a Reducto. "Where's the backup? We can't hold much longer!"
The demons were stronger than the professors had anticipated. Even the transfigured statues and steel soldiers, which started with clear features and details, were now reduced to vague, blurry shapes to conserve magical energy.
It wasn't just a feeling. As deputy headmistress with partial control over Hogwarts' systems, McGonagall could sense the castle's magic waning—or rather, being devoured.
Whatever the demons had done in the underground classroom, they'd somehow shielded it from Scrying spells. No one knew exactly what they'd done to the castle, but Hogwarts was undeniably suffering an invisible assault.
"Dumbledore!" Professor Sinistra shouted. "We need Dumbledore! Or Professor Potter—anyone! What about the Ministry?!"
"I've sent for help! Hold on!" McGonagall gritted her teeth, shouting back. "We can't lose Hogwarts!"
This thousand-year-old school held unparalleled significance to the British wizarding world. McGonagall couldn't bear to imagine what history would say of Dumbledore if Hogwarts fell on her watch.
Just then, a massive wind elemental smashed through the Great Hall's high windows, carrying a student—Luna.
"Professors! We're here to help!" Luna shouted. "The elementals hate these creatures! They're polluting Hogwarts' land!"
Along with Luna came not just the wind elemental but a host of earth and fire elementals. From high above the castle, one could see translucent water elementals leaping from the Black Lake, climbing the cliffs, and reaching Hogwarts in no time.
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