Lockhart wasn't in any rush to find Sirius Black. The fellow had just broken out of Azkaban, and who knew where he was hiding from the Aurors? Instead of a wild goose chase, it was better to wait until Hogwarts reopened; Sirius would naturally show up then.
Lockhart had more important matters to attend to.
The original Lockhart had compiled a list of powerful wizards living secluded lives, individuals who had achieved remarkable things in various magical fields. This list hadn't been fully utilized; the original only focused on the Defense Against the Dark Arts, which helped him quickly spread his influence. Lockhart intended to use this list to begin exploring the field of Magical Creatures.
The next day, he took Madam Mary to America. After registering their entry with the Magical Congress, they found the wizarding street through a hidden entrance in a Muggle park statue.
Life for American wizards was quite different from their British counterparts. Most notably, sweet shops no longer dominated; instead, coffee shops were everywhere. The streets were also wider, and circuses or bands often came by to host events.
They soon arrived at the Gringotts Wizarding Bank there. The original Lockhart's list was hidden in a vault within.
"I still don't understand why wizards let goblins manage their banks," Madam Mary grumbled. "You, like me, know a lot about Muggle life and understand the importance of banks. Goblins are hardly peaceable creatures."
Lockhart smiled faintly. "It's not really a bank."
Madam Mary thought for a moment, then nodded. "I know, it only handles vault services and currency exchange."
"You can't look at wizarding daily life from a Muggle perspective," Lockhart explained. "Do you know what magical creatures like Sphinxes, Merpeople, Acromantulas, Basilisks, Gargoyles… were used for in ancient times?"
Madam Mary clearly didn't know, looking at him blankly.
"Guarding wizarding treasures and homes!" Lockhart casually mentioned something covered in Hogwarts History of Magic lessons. "Wizards were accustomed to finding powerful magical creatures to guard their treasures and homes. This habit evolved into Gringotts Wizarding Bank in modern times."
"You'll find that opening a vault inside requires no extra fees, and currency exchange has no transaction charges. That's because wizards never had the custom of paying magical creatures for guarding their treasures. It's the same way they treat house-elves."
Madam Mary blinked, then still grumbled, "I still think wizards live in an old-fashioned, backward state."
Lockhart chuckled, not pursuing the discussion further, and led Madam Mary into Gringotts. He had a goblin guide them into the underground vaults, navigating numerous twists and turns until they reached an inconspicuous vault in a corner.
Inside the vault were various items for travel: clothes, a spare wand, autographed books and photos, Galleons, even some American Muggle paper money, and a handgun. Yes, the original Lockhart was quite resourceful; he'd quietly acquired a handgun. Lockhart had never had the chance to handle such a thing in his previous life, so he picked it up, played with it for a while, and then slipped it into his ring before retrieving the list from a neatly stacked shelf.
He carefully read through it, intending to memorize it and then destroy it. Among the names on the list for Defense Against the Dark Arts, Madam Mary's name was indeed present. And for the field of Magical Creature Care, the first name was the highly familiar Newt Scamander.
Newt's power was undoubtedly formidable, but not in the same way as Dumbledore's. His weaknesses in certain areas were enough for a determined individual to devise targeted strategies and easily deal with him. Lockhart immediately excluded Newt from his plans, not just because he liked the character from the original stories, but also because Dumbledore was already keeping an eye on him. Targeting someone close to Dumbledore would be pure suicide.
He quickly memorized all the information on the list, then drew his wand, touching it to his head to carefully confirm he'd remembered everything before casting a spell to destroy the parchment in his hand. Keeping it around would only cause trouble.
When he emerged from Gringotts, Madam Mary asked, "Where are we going next?"
Lockhart was a bit indecisive. Since he didn't need to steal anyone's life or write books based on their experiences, and only intended to duplicate some knowledge, his options became much wider.
However, before he could speak, an owl flapped its wings and flew towards them. It circled once above his head, then landed on a nearby fire hydrant, lifting one leg to offer him a rolled-up parchment letter.
"A letter for me?" Lockhart was surprised, wondering who would send him mail. He reached out and took it, and the owl flapped its wings, soaring straight into the sky.
The letter was from Dumbledore, though it mostly served to provide some context and pass on another letter—an invitation from Newt Scamander.
Lockhart's expression became quite peculiar.
Although people at school often referred to legendary figures like Newt as 'alumni,' Newt was actually ninety-six years old this year. At that age, he was still actively involved in the conservation of endangered magical creatures, truly living out his magical path consistently throughout his life. Lockhart didn't know much about this esteemed alumnus beyond his continued updates to the Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them series, his plea at Hogwarts when Buckbeak the Hippogriff was to be executed in Harry's third year, and that Luna eventually married Newt's grandson, Rolf Scamander. Oh, and also, in his later years, Newt lived with his wife in Dorset, England.
But it was curious; Newt Scamander's invitation to meet was in America.
"We'll probably have to stay in America for a while," Lockhart said with an unreadable expression, looking up at Madam Mary. "An invitation just arrived."
By the time Lockhart and Madam Mary arrived at a farm in Texas, it was already the afternoon of the next day. It was a farm invisible to Muggles, with a huge, rusted iron gate entrance nestled between two low ridges. A wooden sign hung beside the entrance, reading 'Scamander Farm.'
A house-elf was already waiting by the gate, dressed in a well-fitting and exquisite butler's uniform, respectfully inviting them inside. "Mr. Scamander senior apologizes for not being able to greet you himself. His leg pain has flared up again recently, and he can finally get some proper rest."
The old elf grumbled, leading Lockhart and Madam Mary towards a pumpkin-shaped carriage. Once they were seated, he whistled, and several long-haired, dog-like animals with dragon scales along their spines ran out. They slipped into harnesses at the front of the carriage and quickly pulled the vehicle towards the distant homestead.
Lockhart gazed about with great curiosity. The place was filled with magical creatures he hadn't encountered during his Hogwarts days, and even after accessing the memories of those dozen powerful wizards in his mind, he couldn't name most of the animals.
The farm covered an enormous area. Just when he thought they were nearing their destination, the pumpkin carriage rounded a low ridge, revealing an even vaster landscape.
"Are all these Mr. Scamander's farms?" Lockhart asked curiously, looking out at a colossal creature in the distance, asleep on the ground, almost indistinguishable from the nearby low ridges.
"They belong to Mr. Scamander junior," the old elf recounted the legendary history of this magical creature conservation farm, which Newt's son had founded. "He had a very difficult time getting it up and running initially. Magical creatures consume vast amounts of food every day, and their waste needs to be cleaned up, and funding was always insufficient…"
They soon spotted Newt's son. He was a burly man with a full beard, dressed in wizard's robes and puffing on a cigar. He was currently driving a large Muggle agricultural harvester through a field of strange purple plants. As the harvester passed, small, monkey-like and kangaroo-like creatures with long arms excitedly rummaged for something to stuff into their mouths behind it.
Lockhart found it hard to imagine Newt's son looking like a burly old cowboy. Thinking about it, he decided he might be too prone to stereotypes. He specifically asked the old elf to detour so he could greet the man before continuing towards Newt's residence.
Soon, a cluster of wooden houses with gray stone tiles appeared before them, nested in layers, even with some similarly styled towers, making the place look like a fantastical version of a Muggle country estate.
Newt and his wife both looked quite spry. Aside from their white hair, they appeared surprisingly young and friendly, introducing the young boy doing his homework beside them.
"Rolf Scamander, my grandson. He attends Ilvermorny School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."
Rolf seemed quite young, probably around the same age as the Weasley twins, wearing glasses and looking rather studious. After polite greetings, he looked at Lockhart with some curiosity. "You smell of magical creatures, but there's also another scent, one that feels quite unsettling."
Lockhart smiled faintly, looking at him with interest. "You can smell that?"
Rolf nodded proudly, then shook his head. "Not smell, but feel. Like dark smoke clinging to you."
Lockhart burst into laughter, looking at this perceptive child. "You have a great talent." He patted his pocket, and the little golden creature popped out, curiously observing the child before it. It could now freely control its influence over fear, and at the moment, it looked like a small monkey with three hands.
"Animality?!!!" Newt suddenly gasped, sitting bolt upright in his wheelchair, his eyes blazing as he stared at the little golden creature. "I'm seeing animality on a Dark Arts creature?!!!"
Lockhart, beaming, invited his little companions to come out and play: a Swooping Evil, a Sack Creature, a Boggart… Each one caused Newt to exclaim in astonishment. His wife, Tina, meanwhile, couldn't see what the fuss was about. In her life with Newt, she had seen far too many strange magical creatures to be particularly surprised by the current scene. But she knew that her husband, who had only just started to rest, would likely be busy again.
In fact, she had long known that their quiet life was indeed becoming turbulent. Because the young man who had just arrived had set Gellert Grindelwald free! That was why Newt, an old recluse who disliked entertaining guests, had been willing to invite Lockhart to his estate for a detailed discussion.