Outside the Wizarding Kingdom.
A knight riding a Skeleton Horse charged into the mist.
An enormous black, scaled claw seized him.
Then scorching dragonfire descended, reducing him to ashes in an instant.
The Black Dragon was over eighty feet long, flames snorting from its nostrils.
Its vertical pupils watched the world outside before it descended into Dragon Castle.
After it went inside, more Wraiths rushed into the mist.
An invisible force stripped them of their sense of direction.
They fell into the mist, never to emerge again.
Silver Hand Elegant Fashion Design.
Lockhart had already tried on more than twenty outfits.
Before this, many people had thought clothes only needed to be comfortable.
Lockhart, however, had no shortage of demands. He wanted noble attire befitting his status as a representative of the Wizarding Kingdom.
Noble, not vulgar, and certainly not a display of wealth.
So when the gold cufflinks were brought out, he rejected them without hesitation.
He did not even give them a second glance.
"This won't do. It would tarnish the image of Gilderoy Lockhart."
"This won't do either. Gold clashes with my hair."
"Ruby?" Lockhart eyed the ruby ring, its exquisitely cut stone the size of a pigeon's egg, and said disdainfully, "Red doesn't suit my temperament."
Clearly, Lockhart cared a great deal about his public image.
Rita Skeeter was the editor-in-chief of the Daily Prophet, as well as the executive producer of Seer Television.
She would use her pen to polish Lockhart's image.
The two could hardly have been called acquaintances before; there had even been a little hostility between them.
With John's intervention, they had become excellent partners.
A fellow worker in the written word, Rita left her enchanted quill taking notes.
She raised a hand to pause it. In recent years, she had rarely