The Swooping Evil was a creature of myth and terror, an XX-rated magical beast originating from the world of Harry Potter. With a body resembling a reptile and wings spiked like a sea urchin, it curled into a green, spiny cocoon when idle, resembling nothing more than a grotesque bundle of thorns. Yet, its appearance belied its true danger.
Feeding on human brains and secreting venom so potent it could kill without detection, the Swooping Evil was both feared and coveted. The venom, when diluted, became a valuable magical resource capable of erasing memories seamlessly.
At this moment, Lockhart stood in the bustling heart of New York City, garbed in a dark green sorcerer's uniform. Pedestrians brushed past him, their gazes sliding off as if an invisible barrier kept them from noticing his presence. On his shoulder, the Swooping Evil rested, curled tightly, its glowing green form radiating quiet menace.
Next to Lockhart stood his three students, Ian, Vera, and Remy, clad in matching blue wizard robes. Despite their conspicuous appearance, the crowd seemed oblivious to their existence. Within a one-meter radius, passersby instinctively avoided them, their subconscious minds whispering that these figures were best left unnoticed.
Lockhart's hand gently stroked the Swooping Evil as he spoke to his students, his tone calm and deliberate. "Ian, Vera, do you know how the first spells were cast?"
Remy's hand shot up slightly as he replied with a solemn expression. "Professor Snape once mentioned it. Long ago, magic was cast without wands, relying instead on materials as mediums. The power of a spell depended entirely on the quality of these materials. The greater the material's potential, the more potent the spell—but also, the harder it was to control."
Lockhart nodded approvingly. "Exactly, Remy. What I'm performing today—memory erasure magic—draws from those ancient principles. Each era's magic has its unique traits, and understanding its history is crucial for mastery. If you aspire to become top-tier sorcerers, learn from the past. Study not just the spells but the thoughts and philosophies behind them."
"Yes, mentor," Ian and Remy replied in unison, their voices tinged with determination.
Lockhart's thoughts briefly drifted to his time at Hogwarts and its ghostly history professor. His lips quirked in an ironic smile. Ah, Dumbledore, the missteps of a single teacher can derail generations of students.
Snapping back to the present, Lockhart raised his wand. A faint lavender glow flickered at the tip as he channeled magic through it. In the air before him, intricate purple lines began to form, weaving into a complex circular pattern of runes.
The spell grew larger, spreading upward into the sky as clouds gathered, darkening the streets below. A low wind began to whistle through the city, pressing against buildings and ruffling clothes. Pedestrians quickened their steps, their faces drawn as an unshakable sense of unease settled over them.
Lockhart's students watched in awe as the vast purple rune circle now loomed over New York. To the untrained eyes of the crowd below, it was merely a brewing storm, but to Ian, Vera, and Remy, it was a masterful convergence of ancient and modern magic.
"Go," Lockhart whispered, his fingers brushing against the Swooping Evil.
The creature stirred, its wings unfolding in jagged, menacing arcs as it rose from his shoulder. It ascended into the sky with a purposeful grace, heading directly for the center of the massive rune.
As it reached the heart of the spell, the Swooping Evil began to glow with an intense purple light, its body synchronizing with the runes around it. The vast magical circle contracted rapidly, condensing into a brilliant sphere of energy—a purple sun burning beneath the storm clouds.
Lockhart raised his wand again, his voice steady as he cast the spells.
"Forget everything!"
"Memories return!"
"Replace the false with the true!"
Streams of white light shot from his wand, spiraling upward into the purple orb. Ian and the others could feel the immense magical energy gathering above, its sheer force pressing against their minds. Unable to bear the strain, they averted their gazes, shielding themselves from the overwhelming aura.
Raindrops began to fall. At first, they were sparse, but soon a steady downpour enveloped the city. The rain shimmered faintly, each droplet infused with the memory-altering magic. Pedestrians hurrying through the storm remained blissfully unaware that their recollections were being subtly rewritten.
Elsewhere in New York – A Café
Through the café's window, raindrops trickled down the glass in erratic patterns, casting distorted reflections of the darkened sky. Inside, Loki lounged across from Mephisto, the two seated at a small table.
Loki's posture radiated arrogance, his long fingers idly tracing the rim of his untouched coffee cup. Mephisto, ever the charmer, wore an amused expression as he gestured toward the window.
"Impressive work," Mephisto drawled. "How many sorcerers in Asgard could match Lockhart's feat? To reshape life itself, to touch the primordial symbols of magic—truly, limitless potential."
Loki's lips curled into a smirk. "My mother, Frigga, is the greatest sorcerer in the Nine Realms. Men like Lockhart are dime-a-dozen in Asgard. Let him play at being a god in this backwater world."
Mephisto raised an eyebrow, his voice tinged with mischief. "This 'backwater world,' as you call it, is now Earth, not Midgard. Perhaps it's time you updated your terminology."
Loki shot him a glare but said nothing. Instead, he extended a hand toward the glass. His fingers passed through it effortlessly, catching a few shimmering raindrops. He studied the droplets in his palm, his expression darkening.
"The spell works only on the weak-minded," he observed. "Its range may be impressive, but its effectiveness is limited. Why would Lockhart expend so much energy on something so... pedestrian?"
Mephisto chuckled knowingly. "Loki, don't forget—the Vientiane World is a business, much like my own endeavors. The more visitors, the greater the profit. What better way to attract customers than to leave tantalizing fragments of magic behind?"
Loki sneered. "Clever, but futile. Such schemes are doomed to fail."
Back in the Streets
The rain began to taper off, the dark clouds dissipating as sunlight broke through the gloom. Lockhart lowered his wand, his task complete. His students, though exhausted, exchanged looks of admiration and relief.
Above them, the Swooping Evil let out a final screech before vanishing into the ether, its job done.
Elsewhere – A Disturbance in Space
Loki stood, his hand gripping the glowing Cosmic Cube. Beside him, the Mind Scepter radiated energy as he brought the two artifacts together.
With a surge of power, blue light rippled outward, enveloping the city. Across New York, teleportation beams erupted, their light drawing scores of enchanted teenagers who rushed forward as though compelled by an invisible force.
Mephisto watched the chaos unfold, a satisfied smile playing on his lips. "Your move, Kamar-Taj," he murmured.
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