The Pacifist Necromancer of Hogwarts

The next morning, Anthony was woken up early by the cat again. The mouse lay beside his pillow. Anthony lay on the bed for a while, stretching out his hand to curl the mouse's tail, and suddenly remembered that he had an appointment with Dumbledore this morning.

With the help of Nico Flamel, their Wraith Chicken experiment went incredibly well. They need to summarize past experimental records and determine the ritual process for cursing the Wraith Chicken.

There are no traces of the Lock Your Heart Club left in the auditorium. The long tables in each college have been returned to their original positions, and several students are discussing yesterday's club activities while eating breakfast, or borrowing papers on transfiguration in a low voice. Professor McGonagall pursed her lips and glanced over there a few times, but Professor Flitwick happened to mention to Professor Sprout the paper on the Vanishing Curse in the new issue of Spell Innovation.

Oh, that one was accepted by Charming Innovations? Professor McGonagall turned her head with interest, I heard that Transfiguration Today rejected this paper. It seems that it was because it tried to use the Muggle theory of conservation of matter. explain……

Professor Sprout saw Anthony and waved him to sit next to him. Filch was sitting at the far end of the staff chair. Anthony smiled and nodded at him, pulling out the chair next to Professor Sprout.

Good morning, Pomona, Professor Flitwick, said Anthony. Good morning, Minerva.

Good morning. Professor Sprout, I was just wondering how I should inform you, Henry. Did you not go to the staff lounge yesterday?

Anthony shook his head in confusion and got himself a glass of pumpkin juice.

Professor Sprout looked around and whispered furtively: It's filled with balloons now... If you want to have afternoon tea with us in the future, you can come to the second greenhouse.

Professor Flitwick added from across Professor Sprout: Everything is good there except the smell of dragon manure.

Do you know where the second greenhouse is, Henry? Professor McGonagall asked.

I know, Anthony said, dumbfounded, but is this really necessary?

Professor Sprout whispered: You will understand when you see the staff lounge, Henry. Gilderoy is planning to completely renovate it!

Besides the discussion with Severus, do you have any other plans today? Professor Flitwick asked sharply, If you want, Professor Anthony, you can go to the lounge and take a look.

I was just going, said Anthony. I need to know the password to the principal's office.

The password is still Chocolate Frog, Professor McGonagall told him. Albus originally wanted to change the password yesterday, but the gargoyle at the door of the lounge convinced him to change his mind.

Anthony asked in surprise: Is there a gargoyle at the door of the staff lounge?

Yes, Professor Sprout held up two fingers, and there's more than one.

…

Chocolate frog, Anthony said. The gargoyle at the door of the principal's office jumped aside, and the wall cracked. Anthony stepped onto the slowly rising spiral staircase, and was not surprised to see the office door wide open, as if to welcome his arrival.

Anthony raised his fingers and tapped on the doorframe. Dumbledore was sitting behind his desk, with a stone basin on the table. The stone basin was filled with a mysterious silver-white substance, gently swaying and rotating, casting a bright silver light throughout the principal's office.

Sit down, Henry, Dumbledore said cheerfully. Fox spread his wings and flew to the top of the cabinet again. Anthony noticed that the cabinet door seemed to be slightly open.

Anthony sat down obediently and looked curiously at the stone basin. Its edge was engraved with runes that Anthony couldn't understand, and it was probably some kind of alchemical product.

How are you doing lately? Dumbledore said. I've noticed that a lot of students are talking about the practical activities of Muggle Studies recently.

Anthony smiled: That's right, sir. The four groups of practical activities have ended, and I guess the students all had some fun - I mean, I guess they all gained some experience in dealing with Muggles.

Excellent, Henry, said Dumbledore, I expect you will have a relatively easy time ahead?

Anthony nodded: Yes, sir.

Excellent. Dumbledore said with satisfaction. I need you to do me a favor, Henry.

Of course, sir, if I can do it.

My two old friends are going to visit London on the first Saturday in November to discuss some academic issues with me. Dumbledore said briskly. Unfortunately, I don't own any real estate in London, and they , as two hermits, hope to find a place to talk without being disturbed. So, Henry, I would like to ask you if you mind if we borrow your residence for a while?

Anthony was stunned for a moment, looking at the cunning gleam in Dumbledore's eyes, and suddenly came to his senses.

Professor Dumbledore... he asked in disbelief, could these two old friends happen to be a couple?

Dumbledore smiled: As far as I know, they are.

Oh my god, sir...oh my god. Anthony shook his head, not knowing what to say for a moment.

Although Dumbledore is generally considered the greatest wizard of our time (and some would say of all time), he was, after all, the headmaster of Hogwarts. Nico Flamel was a different story entirely.

Dumbledore nodded: I guess that means you agree.

Of course, said Antoine, still in disbelief that Nico and Perenal Flamel were going to watch the Curse Experiment of the Wraith Chicken in person.

Well, I guess we'd better finalize the curse process before our old friends arrive... He chuckled softly, God, I really sound like I'm planning some conspiracy.

Anthony took out his notebook: No problem, sir. I have roughly read all the books on the book list, but I still have some doubts——

Dumbledore raised a hand and Anthony paused.

Don't worry, Henry, said Dumbledore, I have something else I want you to see.

Dumbledore poked the mist-like substance in the stone basin with his wand, and Anthony watched in surprise as his own image floated up from the silver-white substance in the basin. His feet were still standing in the basin, his face opened and his mouth came out, and his own voice came out, with a little echo: Yes, sir, I think he said 'flesh' and not 'blood'... …”

You still think so, don't you? Dumbledore confirmed.

Anthony nodded: Yes, I'm very sure.

The silver-white, small Anthony was wearing a very Muggle shirt, looking straight ahead, his body slowly rotating with the rotation of the silver-white substance in the basin: The curse I can remember said... I Curse you with the flesh of the living, curse you with the bones disturbed by undead magic...

Outside the stone basin, Anthony whispered softly: Under the witness of death...

Then I don't remember much, sir, said Anthony from the basin.

Dumbledore asked: Can you remember anything, Henry?

Anthony said hesitantly: I remember it saying something like 'You're about to be kicked out of this land.'

Dumbledore nodded, picked up the stone basin and rotated it gently. Anthony in his shirt disappeared from the stone basin, and then appeared an Anthony in a dressing gown, who seemed to be sitting. Anthony stared at himself in confusion, and found that there was a hint of fatigue in his tone, and there was something cold and familiar in his expression that was familiar yet strange to him.

'Expell you from this land of the living,' or something like that. He heard himself say, Anyway, a light shot out of Professor Quirrell's wand... He paused, as if Listening to what the person on the other side said, Yes, I think it was a curse, probably designed to drive away necromancers. But the mouse blocked it for me.

Anthony nodded: Yes, that's it. I remember it now.

Very good. Dumbledore said softly, lowering his head and making a few notes on the parchment. Nico and I don't think there is any problem. Now, the most important thing, Henry, do you remember Quirrell's tone at this time? And emotions?”

Anthony stared at himself spinning slowly and subconsciously replied: He stopped stuttering.

Dumbledore seemed amused. Tone and mood, Henry. He asked patiently, Any more?

Well... I think he was very scared, Anthony recalled, but at the same time he was confident that this curse would be able to expel me.

Dumbledore repeated thoughtfully: Fear and confidence.

I guess he was a little angry because I turned down his invitation, Anthony said, still recalling that day when he stood in a room filled with the smell of trolls, listening to his neighbor, the person he thought he could be his friend. Tell yourself how wrong you were.

Dumbledore said softly: Very complicated, isn't it?

Anthony nodded, then shook his head and said, If there are other emotions, I can't remember them.

Dumbledore's blue eyes stared at him for a moment from behind their crescent lenses. In the stone basin, a face that Anthony didn't recognize suddenly appeared. He looked to be only fifteen or sixteen years old. Even though he was just a phantom in the stone basin, you could still see that his face was pale, and his expression had a sensitive, intelligent and docile confidence that was unique to good students like Percy and Hermione.

I don't understand, Professor Dumbledore, hasn't the culprit been caught? the handsome boy said, What else do you want to see me for?

Anthony asked, Who is this, sir?

Dumbledore sighed softly and pounded the contents of the stone basin with the tip of his staff. Anthony saw several figures appear in the basin, but they were all erratic and were instantly dispersed by the rotating silver-white substance. The boy's face emerged again.

But, Professor Dippet, I don't deserve this medal. He said as if he was a little guilty, The monster escaped... I didn't completely stop him. I should have reported him earlier, but I just thought Rubber raised him Got a pet that violates school rules...maybe a dog...I didn't expect...

Anthony knew who this person was when he heard the name Rubber, but he didn't understand why this person's image was suddenly displayed in front of him.

Tom Riddle? he said. I remember when I helped Hagrid solve the case, the Ministry of Magic said he had disappeared.

Dumbledore smiled: He is indeed missing. He silently stared at the spinning Tom Riddle for a while, then shook the stone basin hard to disperse his figure.

Would you like to try it, Henry? Dumbledore invited.

What? Anthony asked confused.

I know this is a very presumptuous request, said Dumbledore, but if you would share with me your memories of Quirrell—memories of Voldemort—we could not only find with greater certainty the tone and tone that would fit the requirements of the ritual, but Emotions, and if you’re lucky, you can also see how Voldemort has been doing in the past few years.”

Anthony hesitated, not willing to let Dumbledore see what his undead magic was all about. If he really had a choice, he would not be happy to see his mind occupied by undead magic.

What should I do? he asked cautiously.

This is the pensieve. Dumbledore said, pointing to the stone basin. On the premise of voluntarily, as long as you think of a specific memory in your mind, put the wand against your temple, he said while demonstrating. The silky-thin silver-white threads were stuck to the tip of his wand. Dumbledore flicked his wrist and broke them off. You can extract the memory and watch it.

He carefully placed the memory at the tip of the staff into the pensieve. Harry's face appeared, wearing Gryffindor's Quidditch uniform, laughing heartily. Dumbledore watched in silence as the memory sank.

“We look for clues to the future in the past, and clues to reality in memories,” he said. “I often use a pensieve to sort through my own memories—there are so many of them that sometimes they clutter my brain. .”

Am I going to lose these memories? Anthony glared at the pensieve.

No, it won't, Dumbledore assured, They're just...if you don't put them back, they become information rather than memories.

But I can put them back, Anthony confirmed.

Yes.

Anthony sighed: Okay.

I'm very grateful, Henry, said Dumbledore.

Anthony put his wand to his temple, thinking about what had happened. As the memories were pulled out of him bit by bit, he felt a strange sense of relief, as if something that was pressing him was lessening.

Strangely, when he remembered how he allowed the undead magic to fill his body, and how he extended and occupied the troll's body, those silvery memories were suddenly interrupted. They fell neatly on the tip of his wand, as if they had been cut off by a huge scythe.

Oh, said Dumbledore, looking a little surprised for the first time. Anthony looked at the memory on the tip of his staff, put it into the stone basin and stirred it. Quirrell's turbaned face came up.