The Pacifist Necromancer of Hogwarts

By the way, sir, um...

What, Henry? Dumbledore asked patiently.

Anthony said with some embarrassment: I know you are very busy, but if you remember the Wraith Chicken I mentioned...

When they talked about flesh magic, he wanted to tell Dumbledore about it, but Professor Flitwick was still sitting next to him dipping bread in the soup, and Anthony couldn't imagine how he should say it.

Professor Dumbledore, do you remember my Wraith Chicken? That's right, Wraith Chicken - Oh, Professor Flitwick, I forgot to tell you, I am a necromancer. No, really, it's nothing. Did you know that Professor Quirrell is Voldemort... Ratchet! Ah, I'm so sorry.

Your pet. Dumbledore nodded, Have you found a suitable method? I remember you just said that you encountered some difficulties with flesh and blood magic.

Yes, but as we discussed before, Professor Quirrell... Quirrell helped a little, Anthony said, glancing at Snape, unsure of how much he actually knew.

Snape took his time and cut off a small piece of mutton chop, as if he was suddenly not ready to leave.

I remember the curse he wanted to banish you. Dumbledore said, But, Henry, I'm worried that there are too many accidental factors mixed in that scene to guarantee whether you can survive on the Wraith Chicken. Reappear. He tapped his long fingers on the table, thinking deeply.

Anthony said: That's why I want to ask you for help. Blame it on my greed, I hope to find a way with the least risk to pull the Wraith Chicken out of the room and bring it to Hogwarts to accompany Of course, I will eventually need to find a living person to curse my chicken.

You can send an owl to discuss it with me at any time. Dumbledore promised. In fact, I have several ideas right now. How many details do you remember, Henry? The exact wording, the pause in tone, the amount of blood...

Anthony said honestly: I can't guarantee anything.

It doesn't matter. Dumbledore said understandingly, What about the time and place at that time? Ah, we can't guarantee the same location, right? But we can know the moon phase through the date, and we can also calculate the appropriate moment... Professor Setima Victor of Arithmancy has gone home, but she probably won’t say no to Fox and a bag of biscuits.”

Anthony hesitated and said, I really can't remember... the night? Does that help?

Snape sneered: Of course, it helps you eliminate half of the day. It's a huge improvement.

Help us, Dumbledore corrected. I'm waiting for your advice, Severus.

Snape said diplomatically: Well, Headmaster, since this is your request. There is only one: in Professor Anthony's case, the person who provided the blood drank the blood of a unicorn. He gloated at Anthony With a smile, I think you must have considered this a long time ago, right?

From the kitchen came the sound of elves chatting. They seemed to be debating whether they should add honey mustard sauce to the menu.

Anthony turned to Dumbledore and asked without any hope: Sir, do you think Quirrell will come to apply for the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor next school year?

…

In the last century, someone tried to simulate unicorn blood through potions. Snape squeezed out the words through his teeth with a livid face and stopped suddenly. Anthony, who was following him, almost bumped into him.

They just came out of the kitchen. Snape briefly walked up a short distance to go back down to the cellar, while Anthony needed to go all the way back to his office.

Sorry, what? Anthony asked, snapping out of his thoughts.

Snape hissed, You heard me, Anthony. There have been attempts before. If you really want to free your... He spat out the word with disdain, Tamagotchi, then you'd better It would be nice to see what others have tried.”

After Dumbledore praised Snape, he announced that blood-related topics would be researched by Snape, and when he wanted to protest, he suddenly announced that he was going to prepare for a meeting.

Thank you, Severus. Dumbledore said happily, By the way, I heard compliments on your article yesterday. Regarding the study of the effect of the grinding particle size of basilisk scales on potions, if If I remember correctly?

…

The next morning, Anthony woke up in a daze for a moment.

The room was quiet. There was no cat squatting beside his bed, no chicken pecking to wake him, and no mouse doing something sneaky under his bed.

The sun shone in through the curtains that were not tightly drawn. Anthony sat up and slowly went to the bathroom to wash up. He suddenly felt that the bedroom and office were much larger than usual.

The castle also seemed much larger. Anthony felt a little awkward sitting at the staff table eating breakfast alone. He looked down at the empty dean's table, then looked up again.

The magic on the ceiling disappeared, waiting for the professors to control the weather outside before the next batch of freshmen arrived. No owl will fly in today to deliver the message.

Anthony grabbed two pieces of bread, six strips of bacon and two sausages from his plate and decided to have breakfast with the owl.

Just like the last time he came, the owl loft was in a mess and the floor was covered with feathers. There is more than one owl standing on each crossbar, but the students' owls were all taken home during the holidays. Only the owls belonging to Hogwarts are still here. Some are dozing with half-squinted eyes, and some are fluttering. Flying around, some spread their wings and concentrate on arranging their feathers.

As soon as Anthony entered, all the owls near the door stopped and looked at him.

Uh, hello, Anthony said cautiously, standing next to a support pole. The owl next to him flew to the other side unhappily.

I'm sorry, I'm not very good at identifying birds. Anthony said, Who is the owl who delivers the message to the Romanian Fire Dragon Sanctuary for me?

The owls looked at him with their beady eyes, an unreadable expression on their faces. Anthony was in a stalemate with them for a while, and an owl suddenly hooted softly from high up.

Is it you? Anthony squinted his eyes and looked up for a moment, No, I don't think so...

The owl spread its wings, shook, flew down quietly, and landed on another horizontal pole. There was an owl with its back to Anthony, its wings tightly folded.

Ah, oh, thank you... Anthony said, tentatively trying to get closer.

The owl didn't move.

I brought some bacon, Anthony said softly, and sausages, but I didn't know if you would like them. I think I need to apologize. I did write the wrong address.

The owl turned its head and hooted angrily. Anthony was startled. It's a little scary to see how much its neck can turn.

You could just peck me right then. Anthony said, handing over his finger. The owl looked at him angrily, snatched the bacon from his hand, and flew to a high place.

Anthony said, Well, you're right, I'm not as good as bacon. He took out the bread and ate it with the sausage.