Allen stood on the rooftop, a twitch at the corner of his mouth beneath his mask.
In an instant, his mind was taken over by Lucius's scheming ability, and countless clues, like beads being moved by an invisible hand, were arranged and combined in the depths of his consciousness.
Lockhart?
He murmured the name to himself, lost in thought.
In the original book, that bumbling professor was poisoned by his own Memory Charm in less than a year at Hogwarts, and spent the rest of his life at St. Mungo's's, just grinning at the walls.
He couldn't even handle a group of Cornish Pixies, who chased House-elf all over the office.
He was knocked to the ground by Snape's Disarming Charm in the Duelling Club, and didn't even understand how he lost.
During the Chamber of Secrets incident, he tried to be a hero but used the wrong spell and made Harry's bones disappear.
From beginning to end, Lockhart did not exhibit any qualities that could be associated with "power".
So what makes him so composed standing amidst the Fiendfyre?
Fiendfyre is not something that just anyone can touch.
How could a fraud who can't even teach Defence Against Dark Magic, a good-for-nothing who can only erase memories with Memory Charm, possibly summon such a powerful Dark Magic flame?
A conman cannot suddenly become a master of Dark Magic.
With Lockhart's pitiful strength, he couldn't even get a wand to burn properly.
Therefore, there is only one answer.
Allen slowly narrowed his eyes, his gaze piercing through the gaps in the flames and landing on the figure with golden curly hair.
In the second book of the original work, there is only one person who can control other people's bodies and has extremely high attainments in Dark Magic.
The lingering soul of sixteen-year-old Tom Riddle.
Therefore, Lockhart is very likely being controlled by sixteen-year-old Tom Riddle.
Allen's lips twitched slightly beneath his mask.
He had absolutely no idea how those two people got together.
Could it be that something went wrong with Lucius's diary at some point?
He tried to recall if this scene existed in the original work, but he couldn't find a similar scene anywhere in his memory.
Allen felt a throbbing sensation in his temple.
The remnant soul of a young Dark Lord, coupled with a runaway Fiendfyre.
He sensed his fifth-tier magic power reserves, then looked at the ever-expanding purple sea of fire, and felt an immediate increase in pressure.
Just then, his gaze was drawn to a scene at the edge of the sea of fire.
A woman in a floral print robe was running against the flow of people back.
Her arms were empty; one hand held the hem of her robe, while the other stretched out desperately forward.
About seven or eight steps ahead of her, a little girl in a red robe fell on the stone path, scraping her knee and crying with her mouth open.
Less than ten steps behind the little girl, a wolf-shaped magical beast formed from purple flames was slowly pacing, its flame-formed eyes already locked onto the small figure on the ground.
" Alyssa! Come back!" someone shouted to the woman from the crowd.
"Don't go! It's too late!"
Alyssa did not turn around.
Her eyes were only on her daughter, who had fallen to the ground and was crying.
The distance of five or six meters, which she could normally cross in a few steps, now felt like an entire Diagon Alley.
She ran as fast as she could, her shoes making a rapid pattering sound on the stone pavement.
The fiery wolf-like monster tilted its head, seemingly taking an interest in the little girl in the red robe on the ground.
It slowly turned around and took a step towards the little girl.
"Mommy!" The little girl sat on the ground, her face covered in tears and ashes, reaching out her little hands to Alyssa and crying out.
Alyssa finally ran up to her.
She scooped her daughter up from the ground and held her in her arms; the little girl immediately gripped her collar tightly.
But the fire wolf was already standing less than five steps away from her.
Purple flames surged within the wolf-shaped body, and with each breath, a spark spewed from its mouth.
Its eyes were a deep purple flame, and it was staring at Alyssa and the child in her arms with an almost mocking expression.
Alyssa instinctively took a step back, feeling her legs go weak.
" Merlin..." she whispered, her voice trembling so much it was almost inaudible.
The daughter in her arms buried her face in her chest, her small body trembling incessantly.
The fleeing wizards behind them all stopped in their tracks.
Some people covered their mouths, some turned their heads away, and some wanted to rush back but were held back tightly by the people next to them.
No one thought they would survive.
The fire wolf took a step forward.
It opened its mouth, and purple flames surged from deep within its throat, like a real wolf baring its teeth.
Just as flames were about to burst from its mouth...
A black figure descended from the sky.
The hem of the black trench coat billowed backward in the airflow, like an unfurled flag.
The man landed in front of Alyssa, his back to her, his black trench coat billowing wildly behind him.
Compared to those enormous, ferocious fire monsters, his figure appeared so small.
But he just stood there, his slender figure appearing like some kind of miracle in the purple firelight.
The wizards behind him were all stunned.
The crowd, which had been screaming moments before, fell silent for a moment, everyone staring in disbelief at the figure in the black trench coat.
The fiery wolf-like monster stopped in its tracks.
It tilted its head, staring at the unexpected guest that had suddenly appeared before it, and made a crackling sound of flames rising in its throat.
The surrounding flames seemed to sense the change, their surging momentum pausing slightly.
As if it had spotted some more delicious food, the flames around the fiery wolf-like monster boiled even more fiercely.
The flames at the edge of the Fiendfyre burst open, sending out streaks of purple sparks that scattered in all directions like shooting stars with trails of light.
Alyssa's eyes widened, and her arms tightened around her daughter unconsciously.
She stared at the figure in front of her, whose trench coat was fluttering in the wind, her lips slightly parted, seemingly lost in thought.
The man in the black trench coat raised his right hand.
He held a dark brown wand in his right hand, with a silvery-white light slowly pulsating inside the wand.
Then, an unusually youthful voice suddenly rang out amidst the crackling sound of flames engulfing everything:
" Fiendfyre (Partis Temporus)!"
Under the watchful eyes of everyone, the wolf-shaped magical beast, writhing in purple flames, suddenly split apart, along with the surging purple flames behind it, all forcibly dispersed by an invisible force.
It was as if a rift had been forcibly torn open within the nearly 100-meter-long burning purple flame domain.
As if piercing through, the flames in the center of the entire Fiendfyre were forcibly split apart, creating a straight path without flames leading directly to the central area.
Various fire beasts composed of purple Fiendfyre either feared or avoided them, retreating one after another, not daring to touch the path that was not burning with flames.
The black trench coat billowed wildly and then suddenly billowed up. Allen slightly raised his head to look at the blond figure that had appeared. The Purple-Patterned Fox-Face Mask looked particularly mysterious in the flickering firelight.
"Yes, I've arrived."