HP: Fantastic Beasts And The Right Way To Use Them

"You've seen a real devil?"

Once Evans and Snape had finished talking, Nicolas Flamel, who had been listening in, finally spoke up. "They actually still exist?"

The Flamel family records contained accounts of devils. One such being had helped the family establish the basic principles of alchemy. Thanks to that same creature, though, most Flamels were born with a flaw in their souls, as if something had torn a piece away at birth, leaving a gap that could never quite be filled.

Even he had only managed to patch his own soul after living for several centuries, stitching the missing fragment back together. The price had been steep.

Ever since that day, he had never cast magic in earnest combat. If he pushed his power too far, the seams in his soul could tear apart and turn all those centuries of careful work to dust.

Even when Grindelwald devastated Paris decades ago, Nicolas had not truly fought with everything he had.

Evans caught the curiosity in Flamel's gaze and stepped closer, lowering his voice so Snape would not hear from a distance.

"Strictly speaking, I'm not sure it's a real devil. But that's what it calls itself."

"And in both appearance and abilities, it's very close to what a true devil is supposed to be. So it probably isn't lying."

"A real devil…" Nicolas repeated, his expression full of complicated feelings. After a brief silence, he looked at Evans with a hint of pleading.

"Could you arrange for me to meet it?"

"That might be difficult."

Evans shook his head. "It only deals with others when it feels like it."

He had met the self‑proclaimed devil for the first time in his sixth year, and since then, he could count their encounters on one hand. Every time, it had been the one to seek him out.

The last time they had met, it had mentioned, in passing, that it planned to go to Norway for some entertainment and that Evans could come and find it there if he wished.

But with its secretive nature, if Evans turned up with a whole group in tow, there was no guarantee it would show its face.

Even now, he did not have so much as a tracking mark on the creature, never mind anything as grand as "friendship".

If it had not fully upheld every bargain they had struck, he would have wondered whether those scattered meetings had all just been strange, vivid dreams.

"I see."

Nicolas sighed, clearly disappointed, and turned his gaze back to the forest ahead.

It was a wide expanse of conifers, every crown capped with a thick layer of snow that blazed crimson under the dying light.

Evans looked that way as well.

By the trunk of a massive pine, Sothia was crouched down, prodding at the bark with one finger over and over.

"Are you sure there's really a lake here?" she called without looking up. "I can't feel any water answering my call. And the plants don't look like anything you'd find near a lakeshore."

"If my information is right, there should be one."

Evans frowned slightly, recalling the reports he had gathered.

"For nearly a thousand years, the creatures in the Forbidden Forest have passed down stories about a Great Lake. The most recent sighting was only a few months ago."

"It doesn't look like there's any illusion magic at work here," Dumbledore said quietly. A strange white gleam flickered in his blue eyes. "We saw no sign of a lake from the air either. If your information is sound, then the issue is probably with the method of entry."

He glanced at Nicolas Flamel. Nicolas nodded at once, took a special lens from his pocket, and held it to his eye, then knelt and began tracing patterns on the ground with his wand.

Several minutes later, he rose and shook his head slightly.

"There are no forged anchors, no embedded constructs. It's probably not a physical artefact."

"Maybe it's some sort of trigger‑based magic circle," Evans suggested. "It only activates when you set it off, and once it does, it sends you straight to the lake."

"If it's that well hidden, we'll have to get very close before we stand any chance of finding it," Dumbledore said with a shrug. "That's no small task."

Evans stood thinking for a while, then smacked his forehead.

"Give me a moment."

He set the case down on the snow, unlatched a catch, and murmured a few words into the opening.

After a short pause, as if he had received an answer, he unfastened the second catch and quickly stepped back a few paces.

The upper half of the case burst open. A huge lion's head thrust out first, followed by a goat's body and a dragon's tail.

Once it had fully emerged, the Chimaera flicked its tail lazily. Its eyes were bright with confidence, and the flame burning at the tip of its tail flared high, a clear sign of perfect health.

As one of the strongest species in the world, a Chimaera's recovery was never going to be slow. After Nicolas's ritual and a few days of rest, the body that the curse had ravaged was back to full strength.

Right now, it was terrifyingly powerful.

"Rrroar."

The beast gave a low growl to Evans and Flamel, a rough but unmistakable gesture of thanks, then lifted its head to survey the forest.

Slowly, its confident expression drained away. Its massive frame even seemed to tremble.

Evans did not notice the change. Unable to hold back, he stepped forward eagerly.

"Do you recognise this place? Can you take us to the Great Lake where you were attacked?"

The Chimaera's answering rumble had a very clear edge to it.

You want to go there? I wouldn't. It's extremely dangerous.

"I know."

Evans nodded.

"That's exactly why we need to understand what it actually does."

"This area is close to Hogwarts. If there really is something dangerous here, we have to find a way to deal with it—or at least stop it spreading."

Over the years, countless magical creatures had been dumped into the Forest by this so‑called Great Lake. There was no pattern to the transfers; the landing points varied wildly.

Take Tim the leopard cat. He had been spat out right next to Hogsmeade. A little further in the wrong direction, and he might easily have landed on the school grounds.

If something truly dangerous were ever dropped straight into Hogwarts, the consequences would be a disaster. That, more than anything, was why even someone as famously lazy as Dumbledore had agreed to come in person.

Evans, of course, had his own reasons as well.

Merlin's fragment had insisted it knew nothing about any arrangements in the Forest related to a Great Lake. Even so, the fact that magical creatures were being teleported here made Evans suspect some connection.

A thorough search might turn up more clues linked to Merlin. And even if it didn't, the situation gave him a perfectly good excuse to ask the Dark Wizard King for help.

"Please," he said quietly to the Chimaera. "Take us there."