days at Hogwarts

Chapter 699 Avada Kedavra

The night deepened and the fog thickened.

Perhaps the air quality in London is too bad. One moment I was in Hogwarts, and the night sky in the remote mountains was still a scene of bright stars and moon. The next moment I came to an abandoned amusement park in the suburbs of London, and the sky was gray and gloomy, with clouds and haze mixed together, as if a cover of varying thickness covered the earth, sometimes blocking the stars and moon, and sometimes letting in a faint light.

The cold wind stirred up the surging fog, and the wildly growing grass that had been undisturbed all year round welcomed late-night visitors. The night dew wet the trouser legs, the grass leaves rubbed against the soles of the shoes, and the footsteps were faint.

Harry followed the black-robed professor. Due to the cold and complicated emotions, a thin layer of goose bumps appeared on his skin. Countless questions lingered in his mind and came to his lips, but he didn't know where to start.

The footsteps in front stopped, and Harry looked in the faint moonlight. Snape had taken out a stone cauldron. It was completely black and seemed to be brand new, with no signs of use. It was larger than any other cauldron in the cauldron shop.

The last time Harry had seen a cauldron like that was the night Voldemort had risen.

On the soft grass were piled stones, charcoal, and a few strange pieces of firewood. That kind of firewood was a magical material that had appeared in the fourth grade textbook, but Harry could not remember it.

The crucible was placed on top, making a slight sound.

Then came Snape's voice without any warmth: "You will light the fire, and do your best to keep the flame burning."

Harry moved forward silently, took out his wand, lit the coals, and kept the fire burning as instructed.

The blazing flames dispelled the cold mist, and a warm feeling came towards him. Harry's face was flushed, and the reflection of the flames was reflected in his lenses and eyes, blurring his focus. Snape poured various materials into the crucible, and the side walls collided with irregular sounds. Fresh rue, dried two-eared grass, and the sharp horns of two-horned beasts...

Harry couldn't recognize the ingredients at the back, so he gave up trying to identify the herbs and his thoughts began to wander.

What materials are needed for the resurrection ceremony?
Does he need his blood, or even a limb like the Death Eaters?
Anyway, Dumbledore will definitely be able to grow regrow hands and feet, so he is willing to donate his limbs as long as it can resurrect his parents.

"..."

Harry suddenly looked up at the busy Potions professor and realized something was wrong.

It seems that Snape only talked about resurrecting his mother and did not mention his father.

Harry thought of the scenes in his dreams, or rather the scenes in Snape's memory, and in a trance he felt that many things had become clear to him. His brows were twisted together, and he found it difficult to accept, or even unable to face.

"Keep the fire going." Snape's cold voice interrupted his thoughts.

Harry quickly lowered his head and used his magic to make the flames surge.

As some kind of clear and transparent potion was poured into the crucible and continued to be heated, a soft silver light filled the container. When it boiled slightly, the silver light overflowed and flowed like water, dripping along the outer wall of the crucible into the flame, and rising up a white mist like steam.

Snape moved his wand towards the liquid in the crucible, seemingly stirring it. The liquid in the crucible began to boil completely, bubbling and splashing out bright silver water droplets, as if it were studded with diamonds.

“Throw that textbook in there.”

"Ah?" Harry was a little surprised, then he was glanced at by those eyes, and he still did it in a hurry.

With a plop, the already tattered textbook was thrown into the boiling crucible. Bubbles formed and the barely stuck together pages suddenly disintegrated and melted, leaving only a few dark blue ink marks, which were quickly diluted and dissipated, leaving no trace.

The silvery liquid splashed out of the crucible and fell into the flames, raising a large amount of water vapor. The steam became thicker and thicker, gradually turning into mist that enveloped the surroundings. The vision became completely blurred, the stars and the moon lost their brilliance, and only simplified outlines were left of the chimneys in the distance and the bushes nearby, like the silhouettes of monotonous oil paintings.

The silhouette was still fading, becoming lighter and lighter, more and more transparent, until it disappeared. The fog completely obscured the environment, even the grass underfoot disappeared, replaced by something pale and flat, shapeless but real, a nothingness.

At this moment, some invisible boundaries blurred.

A completely different scene was seen in the bushes further away from the crucible. The bright mist enveloped the crucible and the two people nearby. No hazy shadows could be seen, not even magical vision, as if they were dragged into another dimension.

"This is..." Dumbledore watched this scene calmly, his blue eyes showing admiration, "The gap between life and death."

Loren was a little surprised: "A hazy illusion?"

"The Twilight Zone..." Dumbledore repeated, savoring the meaning of the word. "What an appropriate name! The gap between life and death, the place where the two worlds blend together. Who can tell whether this is an illusion or not?"

Loren stared at the white mist, vaguely understanding the principle of the ritual, and whispered: "Lily Potter does not have a Horcrux. Her soul left after her death. In order to complete the resurrection ceremony, her soul must return to the world. The Twilight Zone is the transit station between life and death."

Dumbledore's eyes were filled with bright white mist as he added slowly, "The destruction of the Horcrux is a death. He used the Horcrux to open the door to another world and welcome the souls of the dead... It's beyond imagination."

Deep in the white fog, Snape faced the crucible with silver light splashing, raised his wand, and said to the illusion of nothingness: "The remains left in the world will become a new carrier."

A wisp of dust floated out from his sleeves and gently fell into the crucible. The silvery liquid surface suddenly calmed down, the bubbling bubbles slowed down, and the liquid became viscous, as if something strange was gestating.

Harry stared at the cauldron, his throat tightening.

The difficult voice was penetrated by the white mist, becoming ethereal and distant, and the content could not be heard clearly. The two people in the bushes could see nothing but the mist and could only stare blankly.

"..."

Then there was another almost chanting sound. This time even Harry, who was right in front of him, didn't hear it clearly. He only saw Snape finish reciting, take out a small glass bottle from his arms, and a wisp of memory with a silver glow was poured into the crucible, and then Snape walked towards him.

Harry felt uneasy and hardly dared to look Snape in the eye. Seeing him getting closer and closer, he finally gritted his teeth, rolled up his sleeves and stretched out his right hand.

"..."

Snape glanced at him indifferently, put his wand against his temple, only to extract a wisp of silver memory from it, then turned around and threw the memory into the crucible.

It turns out that it only requires memory. Harry silently withdrew his arm, feeling that he was indeed a little embarrassed, but then he thought that the school had not taught the resurrection ceremony, so how could he know that it did not necessarily require blood, flesh, bones, etc. It was all Snape's fault for not explaining it clearly.

Two wisps of memory were thrown into the crucible, and an even brighter silver light burst out. This time, it was not limited to the liquid in the crucible. The white mist covering the area was also glowing silver. The mist surged and intertwined in wisps, and a vague picture emerged in the hazy mist.

It is Petunia Evans's memory of her sister, and Harry Potter's memory of his mother...

It was also mixed with some of Snape's memories, which he had instilled into Harry's mind through dreams and then extracted, and contained a magic that was difficult to describe in words.

Loren could only see the white mist suddenly change, and couldn't see what was happening inside, so he asked Dumbledore, "What are those?"

"Who knows..." Dumbledore said softly, "It is the memory of relatives, the longing of sons, the guilt of friends, it is the lighthouse and signpost guiding the dead back to the world. In general, it is love that contains extraordinary magic."

Loren didn't quite understand. He just vaguely felt that that kind of love had nothing to do with love between men and women. It was more like a seed planted many years ago, nourished by guilt. It sprouted and branched out over the long years, and gradually grew into something that transcended life.

The clouds in the sky moved quietly, the not-so-bright waxing moon dimmed and then brightened, the clouds on the ground rolled and floated, and the silver light shone everywhere, more dazzling than the moonlight.

Then, the wind picked up.

The white mist surrounding the crucible quietly dissipated, but the crystal silver light remained in place. The grass leaves were bent and swayed, and the robes were rustling in the wind. Snape looked up at the remaining silver light, his lips trembling slightly, and he made a faint call.

Under the gaze of everyone, the scattered silver light suddenly gathered and turned into the transparent figure of a young woman with slightly curly red hair draped over her shoulders and a pair of clear and bright green eyes, exactly the same as Harry's.

She blinked, with a slightly confused look in her eyes, as if she had no idea what was going on, but when she saw the same pair of eyes as hers, she froze in place.

Harry's eyes became hot, his lips moved, and he couldn't help but call out with sobs.

Lily wanted to respond to his call, but no sound came out of her mouth. The mother and son could only stare at each other.

Snape just stood there, staring at the soul shadow. He said nothing, looked away and continued casting the spell.

The tip of the magic wand was inserted into the boiling liquid. As a wisp of crystal red powder was added to the crucible, the liquid with a silver glow became more viscous, and more powerful magical fluctuations were brewing in it. However, the silver light quickly converged, and everyone could clearly sense a weak life force throbbing in the crucible.

A suction force suddenly burst out from the crucible, enveloping the transparent soul shadow and dragging her into the crucible.

As the soul of the deceased approached the crucible, another cold and damp magical power flowed towards Snape. That magic seemed to have the effect of decaying flesh and blood. The flesh and blood of the middle-aged man became old and withered, and the tight skin became loose. Visible wrinkles spread up along Snape's arm, and even his hair began to fade and become mottled.

Lily finally realized what he was doing, her eyes widened suddenly, and she tried to break free from the pull, but she could only watch herself getting closer and closer to the crucible in vain. She opened her mouth and shouted at him, but the soul shadow could not make any sound, and finally could only shake her head helplessly at him.

The weakness of withered flesh and blood gradually enveloped his whole body from the inside out. This talented potion master was not surprised. He quietly felt the feedback from his senses all over his body. His breathing, which he had never noticed before, began to become labored. He felt a chill in the night of late March even in his long robe. It even became difficult for him to straighten his back.

The body was becoming heavier and heavier, but Snape's expression remained calm without any ripples.

This was planned several years ago. Equivalent exchange is the unchanging law of alchemy, and even Nicolas Flamel's Philosopher's Stone is no exception.

If someone wants to be reborn from death, someone else has to bear that death.

From becoming a stranger to Lily due to a misunderstanding during their student days, to leaking the prophecy after graduation that led to the destruction of the Potter couple's family, he had long been unable to tell whether his feelings for Lily were admiration or guilt. The two emotions were entangled together, becoming a nightmare he did not want to recall.

Death is a small price to pay if it can alleviate some of your sins.

Lily's soul had come to Snape's side and was about to fall completely into the crucible. He stared straight into those green eyes, waiting for the ceremony to be completed with some expectation, but his face suddenly froze.

A bright red light came flying and landed directly on the crucible filled with potion, causing the crucible to shatter.

The sticky liquid immediately overflowed and put out the raging flames. The powerful magic stirred up a shock wave that swept across the grass and shook the bushes.

The resurrection ceremony was completely interrupted. The transparent soul breathed a sigh of relief, but without saying anything, he quickly glanced at the bushes not far away, smiled at Snape, and quietly disappeared from the spot.

Snape stared at the mess on the ground in a daze. His body was filled with flesh and blood again, and the wrinkles gradually disappeared, leaving only gray and mottled hair, covering his drooping face.

A group of cloaked and hooded figures came out one after another, including Bellatrix, the Lestrange brothers, Lucius Malfoy, Rookwood, old Nott, old Goyle... all the familiar Death Eaters came, surrounding the pale, snake-faced, vertical-pupiled figure in the middle, and gradually surrounded the two.

Green marks of skulls and snakes appeared in the sky. The dark mark of the devil covered the sky and the moon, weighing heavily on the abandoned amusement park.

Harry quietly clenched his wand, his palms turned white, and his arms trembled slightly due to excessive tension.

He didn't doubt Snape, he was just thinking about how to escape tonight.

"Resurrection from the dead, incredible, what a genius idea..."

Voldemort paced slowly around the broken cauldron, hissing in admiration. When he passed by Harry, he even leaned close to his neck, spit out his forked snake, and took a deep breath. His hoarse voice was filled with pleasure:

"It is another great merit to invite dear Harry from the heavily guarded Hogwarts to attend our late night gathering. Severus, my most loyal servant, your life belongs to the great Dark Lord, how can you voluntarily give it up for that woman?
"This is really a headache. Let me think about it. How should I reward you for your contribution, and how should I punish you for wasting my life?"

Snape held the wand calmly, raised his head and looked at Voldemort, his surging emotions were suppressed in his heart, and his expression was indifferent.

His mind was rational and clear. He knew that the wisest choice now was to agree to Voldemort, abandon his dignity as usual, look for an opportunity to protect Harry, lie dormant and continue to collect intelligence for the Order of the Phoenix...

Snape took a deep breath and said lightly:

"【Avada Kedavra】"

(End of this chapter)