The Heavens: Hogwarts Transfer Students

The sun shines on Death through the clouds, but leaves no shadow.

The faint flames in His eyes kept beating, like this from time immemorial. In ancient Greece, people called him Hades, in ancient Egypt, they called him Anubis, the Scandinavians called him Hela, and the Celts called him Morrigan. Yama in Indian legend is also Azazel in Jewish tradition.

Ancient and modern people, East and West, all fantasies and longings for death are aggregated into this shadow that does not exist in the real world.

The god of death is in charge of the underworld, and the gap between the underworld and the present world is not time and space. The underworld is not on some distant star, nor is it in a different dimension. The underworld is a place of nothingness that only exists in fantasy, hiding in the soul of the universe.

Because of this, the god of death is immortal. He is just an illusion, like the moon in the water, or the flower in the mirror. How could he be defeated?

Only the Patronus, a magical force born of fantasy, can drive death back.

Linde didn't learn the Patronus Charm, and he didn't need the guardianship of the Void Spirit.

Death trembled before him.

"First you broke my crucible. Then you came to interfere with my watching the football game. Little god, do you feel that you have existed in this world for too long, and you want to ask me to give you a good time?"

"Wizard, resurrection is not allowed. Even you, you can't break the iron law of life and death again and again. I'm just punishing those mortals who are beyond their control."

"Who stipulated that resurrection is not allowed? You?"

Linde shook his head and smiled, "This world has seven layers of history. In the age of gods, resurrecting mortals is commonplace. The essence of life and death is clean and pure. The universe naturally allows mortals to be resurrected, and you are just a person who steals the seat of death." A thief, a fearful phantom created by the thoughts of all beings, but wants to hinder this immortal miracle?"

The groans of the dead floated from under the cloak of the god of death, faintly present, intermittently: "The iron curtain of death...is not my decision...mortals believe that the dead cannot be resurrected, and that everything in the world is fleeting and perishable, but death is eternal. "

"Then why did you unleash the dementors to kill my classmates and professor?"

"I didn't know you were here."

Lin De was overjoyed, and didn't know what to do with Death's straightforward answer.

"Then, it's time for you to go back to the underworld, and don't interfere in this world from now on."

Death's figure slowly dissipated.

Linde frowned suddenly. He predicted a possible future - after the death of Dumbledore and others, their souls were wiped out by the god of death, and later generations could no longer resurrect them.

"Dumbledore is a member of Gautami's appointment, you dare to touch the person I cover? How bold!"

The king of the tower suddenly turned his face, stretched out his hand to strangle the god of death, with surging eternal divine power flowing from his eyes, and launched the transfiguration technique he is famous for. With Linde's current level of divine power, the god of death in the world of "Harry Potter" is basically Can't resist.

"You are still too vengeful and spiritual. Don't be a cloaked skeleton monster in the future, but a harmless little animal."

Death wailed.

"No--!!!"

...

Thousands of dementors appeared in the sky of Hogwarts and fell towards the campus. On average, each teacher and student had to deal with three dementors to survive.

Such a huge cluster of strange things can directly turn Hogwarts into a large Azkaban. If left unchecked, these unchecked dementors will devour every soul in their path.

James, who was riding on a broomstick, was very anxious. He saw dementors flying all over the sky halfway, like a black snow, falling on the Quidditch pitch.

"Harry!" James roared far away.

At this moment, Harry was chasing the Golden Snitch, and Malfoy followed closely behind him.

"Potter!"

Draco Malfoy stretched out his hand towards Harry's broom again, trying to grab it and slow it down. This kind of trick has already been tried once before. Although Gryffindor got a free throw for it, as long as Harry is stopped If you get the Golden Snitch, then this dirty tactic is useful.

Harry stared back at Draco, there was no expression on his face at all, but Draco felt a bone-chilling chill, and couldn't help shrinking his hands.

The Firebolt dashed like a bullet out of the chamber, approaching the Snitch extremely quickly.

Feeling the crisis, this cunning little ball hovered carefree near the surface of the earth, but at this moment it suddenly rose up and went straight into the sky.

Harry gripped the broomstick like a pilot gripping a joystick, and pulled it up sharply. The broomstick swept at an astonishing angle, and the sharp wind whipped up a cloud of grass clippings. Draco pulled up after him, but still took a mouthful of dust.

The Snitch was looking straight into the sky, and Harry's eyes stayed on it until, out of the corner of his vision, he noticed the black cloak falling from the sky.

That familiar icy feeling came over him, Harry had felt it once on the train at the beginning of school, everyone's most desperate moments would be awakened by dementors.

His mother's dying pleas sounded again in Harry's ears.

The swarm of thousands of dementors is like a Styx jellyfish floating in the deep sea, a flowing, dark cloud, and the golden snitch penetrates the dementor swarm like a tiny sun.

Lee Jordan, the narrator in the stands, screamed harshly: "Don't go! Harry! Come back!"

Professor McGonagall raised her wand, and a silver tabby Patronus flew out, her expression anxious and terrified.

The power of the Patronus depends on the wizard. Professor McGonagall can protect the students on the court, or save Harry, but she can't do both.

Is the choice to save one student's life, or to save all other students?

With this cruel choice in front of him, Professor McGonagall waved his wand tremblingly. After all, he chose to let the Patronus run around the court, forming a slowly expanding silver mask to prevent the dementors from coming. She ordered all the students to move closer to her, while Lee Jordan was still calling out the name of the savior.

But that kid rose too high and went too decisively, as if he could give his life to catch the Snitch.

Harry faced the dementors in the sky, he heard the shouts from the ground, he could see the trembling cloaks of the dementors in the sky, and the sad ghost body.

The boy's gaze still followed the Snitch without any deviation, and rushed towards the dark sky without any hesitation.

He drew his wand like a knight raising his lance. The next second, he was engulfed by the tide of dementors.

"Purify—unclean—!"

The crowd on the surface looked up. When Harry's figure disappeared into the cloak field of death, some people screamed and some were stunned. Even the children of Slytherin couldn't help but change color in horror, ridiculing Harry's stupidity and regretting his death.

Then, in the depths of the swirling black tide, a faint light suddenly lit up, like a morning star tearing apart the night.

The spell from the King of the Tower easily crushed the dementors. Harry's eyes did not stop for a moment on these silently howling ghosts. His attention was on maintaining the spell and on the golden snitch in front of him.

The Snitch escaped fast and far enough, but as the icy atmosphere brought by the Dementors froze its dragonfly-like wings and rendered it unable to fly, Harry rushed up.

The two chased and fled, and the dementors around them scattered unknowingly, revealing the clouds above their heads. Harry caught a glimpse of a familiar figure in the depths of the clouds.

"Mr. De Lin!" Harry was taken aback, and the figure in the sky seemed to hear the call, lowered his head and waved at him.

The Golden Snitch flashed past, and Harry subconsciously raised his hand to hold it in the palm of his hand. Then he turned his broom and swooped down, muttering inexplicably: "Is it my illusion? Mr. de Lin seems to be Holding a black cat?" (End of this chapter)