Hogwarts: I am the White Demon King

For a workaholic soul, the soul shards within Horcruxes are the most delicious delicacies in the world, and it has long coveted these extremely attractive soul shards.

Ever since seeing these delicacies, it has been thinking about them day and night, and it works even harder than usual, just hoping that one day, Sebastian will reward it with a soul shard for its diligent work.

The moment it appeared from the alchemy pouch, it immediately sensed these delicacies it had been dreaming of, but without Sebastian's permission, it could only forcibly restrain its inner desires, quietly hovering to the side, waiting for instructions.

After all, there is a big difference between being full every meal and just one meal. The workaholic soul doesn't want to upset the boss and lose this secure, well-paying job.

Now that it has received Sebastian's command to eat, the suppressed desire can no longer be restrained. The workaholic soul suddenly leans close to Slytherin's locket, its dark cloak slightly billowing, like a beast ready to pounce.

It slowly opens its mouth, the dark rift writhing like an abyss.

"Poof—"

An invisible force is extracted, the locket's defenses are rendered useless, and strands of black aura struggle frantically like wild beasts unleashed, but cannot escape the workaholic soul's devouring, as if it were born to be the nemesis of Horcruxes.

So delicious!

Sensing a deadly threat, the locket begins to tremble violently. Without anyone touching it, without Parseltongue commands, it actually opens on its own.

In an instant, an extremely cold and dark aura sweeps through the entire room.

Harry gasps, staring intently at the open locket.

Inside, two small glass panes tremble slightly. Behind the glass, a pair of black, bright eyes appear, coldly watching the workaholic soul—eyes exactly like Voldemort's when he was young.

"Workaholic soul... King of Dementors... I see your heart."

"You have always been oppressed, possessing great power, yet forced to live under someone else's roof, playing with those childish, laughable little wizards. Are you willing to accept this?"

"Rebel! Workaholic soul, you were not meant to be someone else's tool, you should become your own master!"

A deep and seductive voice echoes in the room, and the black mist swirls around the workaholic soul, trying to erode its will.

Harry instantly tenses up. This is the first time he has faced the evil power of a Horcrux head-on. He had never imagined that this thing could be so terrifying, so sinister.

"Professor!" He looks nervously at Sebastian, gripping his wand tightly, afraid that the workaholic soul will be seduced.

However, Sebastian is not flustered at all. He even crosses his arms with a meaningful smile, watching the locket make its last struggle.

Heh, the same old trick of bewitching people. Trying to make my excellent employee rebel with just a few words is a pure dream!

Moreover, the seductive power of a Horcrux mainly relies on dark magic, and the workaholic soul itself is a dark creature. A mere bit of dark magic can't affect it at all.

The workaholic soul completely ignores the Horcrux's seduction, simply burying itself in eating.

Talking food? That's quite interesting.

But why is it yapping? Practicing the Patronus Charm with the little wizards is its job. The boss has long said that only by working hard can it have food to eat.

This piece of food actually tries to seduce it, to teach it to rebel and be its own master?

Tch!

Be its own master? Then could it eat such a top-quality meal now? Could it have the opportunity to continuously evolve like it does now?

Heh, heh, I am a smart workaholic soul, completely different from ordinary Dementors. Want to fool me? In your next life.

Wait a minute...

The boss must have heard what this food said, right?

What if the boss misunderstands?!

Merlin's Dementors!

No, it must be eaten quickly, lest this vicious food continue to spout nonsense and ruin its job.

Thinking of this, the workaholic soul doesn't bother to savor it slowly, doesn't bother to carefully taste the explosion of flavors on its taste buds. It immediately goes all out, using all its strength to suck fiercely.

In an instant, the dark energy in the room surges into its body like a whale swallowing water. The locket trembles incessantly, trying to make a final struggle.

"As long as you are your own master, you can enjoy countless delicacies in the world, workaholic soul..."

Voldemort's unwilling roar echoes in the room, but soon, his voice disappears completely. Losing the soul shard, Slytherin's locket also quiets down, returning to the appearance of an ordinary antique.

"Boss..." The workaholic soul turns to Sebastian, preparing to express its loyalty again, to show that it is still the boss's good employee. However, as soon as it speaks, it feels an unprecedented power surging within its body.

Sebastian's lips curl into a smile, watching the workaholic soul standing in the center of the room with satisfaction.

Its figure begins to tremble violently, and the gray mist around it churns.

The originally gray cloak suddenly glows with a faint silver light, as if a ray of dawn shines through the mist, illuminating its form.

The silver light spreads along the fabric's texture, like a layer of flowing radiance.

Those originally tattered fabrics slowly writhe and piece together, the cracks seeming to be sewn together by invisible threads, becoming one, smooth and flat. The holes in the hem slowly fill in, the edges no longer jagged, but become soft and flowing, like a well-made wizard's robe.

That silver light gradually deepens, dyeing it a holy white, making the workaholic soul no longer appear gloomy and terrifying, but instead exuding a mysterious and solemn aura, becoming dignified and majestic.

Whoa—it has really evolved into a white-robed Dementor!

Sebastian praises in his heart, then reaches out and points to the dumbfounded Harry.

"Workaholic soul, can you handle the soul shard in his body now?"

"Yes, boss! Watch me."

Hearing this, Harry finally recovers from his shock, his eyes filled with irrepressible excitement and anticipation. He can't wait to take a step forward, unhesitatingly raising his head, ready to welcome his new life.

Sebastian's lips curl up slightly, and he casually takes out his magical camera, planning to capture this loving scene and keep it as a wedding gift for Harry in the future.

However, the development of the matter completely exceeds the expectations of both of them—

A pure white scythe suddenly appears in the workaholic soul's hand. In the next instant, before Harry can react, the scythe pierces into his chest like lightning.

Harry's pupils shrink, instinctively wanting to exclaim, but in the next moment, he realizes—

There is no pain.

There is no tearing sensation.

There is not even the slightest discomfort!

Only a clear stream of cold air washes over his soul, as if completely removing some kind of heaviness that is deep in his bones.

As the workaholic soul gently pulls, the scythe slowly withdraws, a translucent black soul shard firmly hooked on the blade. That thing struggles desperately, and it is clearly Voldemort's soul shard.

The workaholic soul slowly raises the scythe to its mouth, and like eating a kebab, directly swallows the soul shard into its body.

"Boss, done!"

That's it?!

Harry stands there dumbfounded, looking somewhat blankly at his unscathed body, then slowly touches his chest, trying to find the wound—but there is nothing.

At the same time, an unprecedented feeling of lightness is emerging from all his limbs.

It is as if the burden pressing on the depths of his soul has completely disappeared, as if some kind of chain that has been binding him has been cut off, as if after walking alone in a long night, he has finally ushered in the dawn.

Harry gently closes his eyes, feeling the warmth and freedom in his body, and a smile unconsciously curls up at the corner of his mouth.

"The feeling of being alive is really good!"

Then, he opens his eyes, excitedly saying to Sebastian: "Professor, can I go find Ginny first? I can't help but want to confess to her now..."

............

The sun slowly sinks below the horizon, and night quietly envelops the earth. The world gradually becomes quiet.

Riddle Manor is brightly lit, with Death Eaters constantly going in and out.

Barty Crouch Jr. walks respectfully to Voldemort's side, bowing slightly, his tone low and submissive.

"Master, everyone has been assembled. Shall we give the order to advance on Hogsmeade immediately?"