Ancient magic could wait; the two old ghosts weren't going anywhere. Dumbledore and Grindelwald had something far more pressing on their minds: the horrifying dark magic they'd witnessed in Lanlock's memories.
"I must say, this magic is… perverse," Dumbledore commented, a furrow in his brow.
"There's a reason it was lost to time." Grindelwald, a master of dark arts who'd been expelled for his research, found the idea of forcibly merging souls utterly abhorrent.
They didn't know the full extent of the magic's power, but the conditions for its casting suggested unimaginable dangers. Worse, Lanlock's memories revealed that everything was in place; only "the arrival of those final intelligent beings" was needed to unleash it.
"So, they're capturing vampires and such for this purpose?" Grindelwald asked, intrigued.
"Gellert." Dumbledore's tone was sharp with warning. The dark magic was too dangerous. Anyone who had witnessed the ritual in Lanlock's memories now knew how to perform it. Dumbledore feared Grindelwald, despite his disgust, might succumb to temptation.
After all, his husband hardly shied away from dark magic.
Dumbledore didn't want Grindelwald anywhere near this; even Tom Riddle, with his fractured soul, would struggle to maintain his identity after merging with countless other beings. These weren't just animals; intelligent creatures possessed personalities and memories.
This wasn't Legilimency, viewing memories from afar, but becoming those memories. Faced with millennia of experiences, Dumbledore's own century would pale in comparison. And then there were the personalities... The danger was undeniable; once used, he was certain the caster would cease to exist as themselves.
Grindelwald rolled his eyes at Dumbledore's pointed stare. "I'm not that deranged. How could I use something so utterly revolting?" He might have his… interests, but he wasn't about to sacrifice his very self.
"..."
Dumbledore simply nodded, unconvinced. The image of the bald "former student" flashed through his mind. Dumbledore swallowed hard, his voice trembling slightly. "We need to… deal with this."
Logically, no one would use such magic, not even scoundrels like Tom Riddle and Grindelwald. But… the remnant soul, might not be so discerning. In Lanlock's memory, he hadn't been averse to the ritual, and Lanlock had originally planned to trick Voldemort's remnant soul into using it.
"It's too dangerous."
"We can't let it resurface."
"We can't let that Tom Riddle get his hands on it either…"
Dumbledore sighed, glancing at Grindelwald. Grindelwald understood; he wasn't about to let such a threat fester. "What's your plan?"
"Lanlock's memories contain the location of their base." Dumbledore, eyes narrowed in thought, said, "He'll likely stay there a while, at least until he figures out how to dispose of the captured beings."
"So… you're planning to kill him now?" Grindelwald nodded. "Yes, now is a good opportunity."
"Make it quick." Dumbledore flicked his wand, relocking Lanlock's cage. "I'll have Minerva McGonagall and the others keep watch."
"Then let's go." Grindelwald grinned wickedly. "Let's give our bald friend a surprise."
Dumbledore shook his head. "You fetch Severus. I'll call Tom as well."
"Isn't that a bit much?" Grindelwald's lips twitched. "Do you seriously think he can match the two of us? Or do you believe he's hiding some other trick?"
"No…" Dumbledore shook his head again. "That Tom Riddle couldn't possibly defeat us both in a straight fight, but he has a knack for slipping through our fingers."
"He is extraordinarily afraid of death; to overestimate his survival instincts is no exaggeration." Remembering their encounter at the Ministry, Dumbledore shot Grindelwald a mocking glance. "Did you forget? We might not be able to hold him back."
"Right… that guy's like a cockroach; he runs like a madman." Grindelwald seemed to recall some unpleasant memory. "Alright, then hurry up. Don't let him escape."
...
Meanwhile, on the other side.
"Wait a minute!!!"
The man who had been studying the black magic Lanlock mentioned on the sofa suddenly shot to his feet. He had been growing increasingly agitated; his focus was shattered.
He knew this feeling; it was his sixth sense. Referring to that Muggle in red and blue pajamas swinging between buildings, the Socket Spirit called it "Socket Tremor".
And now he felt that tremor.
Another deadbeat was trying to kill him.
Worse… they were already on their way!
The Socket Spirit panicked, summoning Lucas with the Dark Mark.
"Master!" Lucas burst in, dropping to his knees. "Where's the person I asked you to find?"
The Socket Spirit suppressed his fear, trying to appear calm. Lucas interpreted this strange tone as anger. "Master! I… I only found three… Please, Master, give me more time! Not seven days! Just three days, and I can find five more!"
"..." Five more in three days? What have you been doing?
Eyes bloodshot, the Socket Spirit fought down his murderous intent. "Three?"
Three… That's fine!
The Socket Spirit frowned, a "well" shape creasing his smooth scalp, and said impatiently, "Never mind the others! Bring them all here!"
"Yes, Master!" Lucas turned to leave, but the Socket Spirit stopped him again. "Wait!"
"Master?" Lucas knelt again.
"The thing I asked you to prepare?"
"It's ready!"
"Then get it! Put all this stuff, and those captured people, inside." The Socket Spirit gestured to the specially enchanted box Lucas had procured: a container with an Undetectable Extension Charm, containing ample space and a magical cage.
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