The appearance of the Dementor-like creature signaled that the Wailing Wraith was nearby.
Everyone grew even more cautious, finally arriving at a massive bronze door that looked like it had been violently torn open.
The door was covered in eerie marks, gnawed by sharp, jagged teeth.
Of course, everyone now knew those marks were left by the Dementor-like creature.
Peeking inside, they saw rows of shelves lined with all sorts of magical artifacts. Some open chests overflowed with glittering Galleons, gleaming under the glow of luminescent stones embedded in the vault's walls.
It was clear now—Mr. Erkett's desperation to save his family's ancestral home wasn't just about sentiment. The real reason he was frantically seeking help was the family fortune, at risk of being claimed by the dark magical creatures infesting the place.
If they couldn't find a way to deal with this, all this wealth would become loot for some brave soul daring to storm this monster-filled castle in the future.
It'd turn into another thrilling fairy tale.
This castle…
Lockhart had heard of it in his past life!
Erkett Castle in Scotland, one of the largest ancient castles, where you could buy a ticket to visit. Its most famous legend was the Loch Ness Monster, one of the "world's unsolved mysteries," said to lurk in the lake overlooked by the castle.
Combining this with his knowledge of the wizarding world, it wasn't hard to piece together. This was another guardian summoned by the earth for the Wailing Wraith, and it was highly likely a Kelpie—a horse-like water demon.
Letting the Muggle world know about this would clearly violate the International Statute of Secrecy. The Ministry of Magic would surely step in to Confound Muggle memories, as they often did.
With a whirlwind of thoughts swirling in his mind, Lockhart's eyes darted around the vault, scanning every corner without pause.
"It's going to get dangerous from here," he said. "Stay back and don't disturb it. I'll handle this alone."
"Keep an eye on your surroundings and watch out for any other guardians the Wailing Wraith might have."
Turning back, he quietly instructed Harry and Draco, the two young wizards, to stick close to Professor McGonagall and Professor Snape. Then, under everyone's watchful eyes, he crept toward the source of the disturbance.
At this point, the earth's call grew stronger—the piercing cries of birds, the slithering of snakes and insects, all became more distinct. And that faint, mournful song grew clearer.
"Oh, passersby…"
"Please hear my story…"
"Cruel, greedy people persecuted me…"
"…and the earth rages on my behalf…"
"Yet the wicked only grow bolder, claiming this evil scene must be the work of an evil witch…"
The voice was laced with a pitiful, barely suppressed sob.
They say a crying baby gets fed, and the Wailing Wraith's anguished sobs had stirred the earth to respond. Gushing springs of vibrant water sought to revive her, to grant her the power to overcome all.
But she only wept.
And so, the earth's protection became endless.
Her pure, innocent nature had created this extraordinary, eerie scene—a twisted fairy tale.
So, how do you solve this problem?
In his memories, a powerful wizard had once used a slightly illegal method: fetching a handsome Muggle to seduce the Wailing Wraith.
Yes, it was that simple.
A Muggle's presence could draw the Wraith closer—it was the only safe way to approach her.
A prince-like heartthrob would captivate this princess teetering between life and death, whispering sweet nothings to pull her from despair and resolve the issue entirely.
See? Simple.
But if a wizard didn't know this trick—even one as great as Dumbledore—they'd have no chance against such a dark magical creature.
Even a young, dashing Dumbledore wouldn't have worked. He'd never whisper sweet nothings to a monster.
Lockhart reached a shelf in the vault, glancing back to ensure he was out of Snape's line of sight. Then, he drew his wand and cast a spell on himself.
"Obliviate!"
His head glowed with silvery light, and strands of memory, like shimmering fish, surged from his mind, swirling in the air as his wand guided them.
With a gentle tap of his wand, the memories rushed back into his head, as if finding their home again.
There was no grand purpose to this—it was just a way to jumble his already chaotic memories, turning them into a mental stew. From past experience, he knew it'd take a moment for them to settle back into balance.
During that time, Lockhart existed in a strange state—neither fully Muggle nor fully wizard, but something in between.
If the Wailing Wraith was particularly strict about requiring a pure Muggle, this cheat might not work. But, conveniently, the Wraith herself was in a similar in-between state—part ordinary Muggle woman, part witch.
This should work.
Lockhart had confidence in his expertise.
He tucked his wand and all magical items into a small bag charmed with an Undetectable Extension Charm. Then, he knelt by a pool of blood on the floor, adjusting his clothes and hair.
Flashing his most perfect smile, he rounded a shelf and headed straight toward the Wailing Wraith.
And then, his smile nearly faltered.
Even though he'd prepared himself mentally, seeing her in person sent a chill down his spine.
Merlin's beard!
In the corner, above a rustic gramophone, a pale, translucent figure resembling a ghostly witch was bound to a burning stake, weeping and singing mournfully.
But as he drew closer, he realized her head wasn't human—it was a massive rabbit's head, with long, drooping furry ears. No, this wasn't a witch at all—it was a human-sized rabbit dressed in a witch's robe.
Everyone knows rabbits don't talk.
And yet, this curvaceous rabbit in a witch's robe had jagged, toothy maws splitting open across its body, all singing in unison to lure passersby.
Come on, this was a dark magical creature!
Lockhart swallowed hard, inching closer, his face breaking into the dazzling smile that had charmed countless fans.
Smile.
He smiled so brightly that the rabbit lady seemed entranced.
She knew what humans liked. Quickly, she closed all her toothy maws, her long ears perked up, and her big red eyes blinked rapidly. She grinned, showing two large front teeth.
Bling bling!
After a moment of dazed smiling, she shook her head rapidly, transforming into a stunning blonde with blue eyes.
Oh, now that's much better.
"Oh, beautiful lady, what's happened to you?"
The white knight had arrived!
Striding through the blood-soaked floor as if strolling through a meadow, the dashing Lockhart gazed at her with a mix of pity, admiration, and budding affection, laced with the righteous zeal of a pure-hearted young hero.
He would save her!
He'd risk his life to save her!
He was utterly determined!
So righteous, so kind!
The Wailing Wraith could feel it!
She stopped her mournful singing, looking at him pitifully. "Save me!"
Got her!
Lockhart's heart leapt with triumph, though his face showed only anxious concern. "How can I save you, my beautiful lady~?"
Rushing forward too quickly would only startle her. She might be easy to talk to, but the earth would instinctively summon guardians to protect her, and that'd be trouble.
Of course, battling monsters was a thing too—called the "Test of True Love."
The answer to this test was a lover who, despite injury, remained steadfast in saving her.
A dark creature expert like Lockhart knew how to skip this unnecessary step.
He was too good at this.
Pretending to hurry forward in a panic, he took two steps, then—splat—he tripped and fell, scraping his palm on the rough stone wall, just as planned, drawing a small trickle of blood.
"Oh, you're hurt!" The Wailing Wraith looked frantic with worry.
"It's… nothing!" Lockhart leaned against the wall, panting as if on the verge of death, extending his slightly bloody hand with deep emotion. "For you, I'd do anything!"
The Wailing Wraith was moved, tears streaming down her face like a storm of pear blossoms.
Say what you will, dark creatures skilled at luring humans to their doom were masters of beauty and seduction. Lockhart was practically swooning.
Merlin's beard, she's gorgeous!
Then he nearly lost it again.
The Wailing Wraith began struggling on her stake, her body splitting open with more toothy maws, which started gnawing at the thorny vines binding her.
Gulp.
Lockhart swallowed again, but as her adoring gaze turned back to him, he flashed his perfect smile once more. It melted her, her dozens of mouths curling into crescent-moon grins.
Outside the vault, Snape and the others stood on edge, guarding the entrance.
They could only faintly hear voices, not clear enough to make out.
Then came the sound of Lockhart falling and crying out in pain, followed by the scene erupting into chaos.
The blood seeping from the stone cracks suddenly surged into a roaring wave, a sea of blood rushing toward the vault's entrance.
Even though Professor Lockhart had told them this was harmless, life-giving spring water—and even demonstrated by drinking it—they couldn't bring themselves to touch it.
It looked exactly like blood. They were too busy dodging it.
As they scrambled, the castle echoed with the creature's wail—a chilling, haunting sound, both mournful and seductively alluring, sending shivers down their spines.
Even Harry, caught up in the "fairy-tale romance" of this brave adventure, couldn't help but get goosebumps.
Gripping his Firebolt tightly to hover above the blood-like streams, he asked Professor McGonagall nervously, "Should we go help Professor Lockhart?"
McGonagall's face was grim as she stared at the vault, her lips pursed in silence.
She was hesitating!
Snape, however, sneered. "Recklessness only leads to disaster! Foolish Harry Potter, always causing trouble. Didn't your precious Professor Lockhart tell you not to startle this dark creature?!"
Harry didn't respond, his face full of defiance.
He was convinced Snape was just jealous of Lockhart's strength and brilliance, trying to sabotage him!