The Pacifist Necromancer of Hogwarts

Chapter 347 No

The bright sunlight shone through the tall windows, casting a warm golden light on the floor of the headmaster's office. Fawkes stayed on his perch, half-closed his eyes and took a nap. Dumbledore sat behind his desk, put down a piece of parchment, and watched Anthony and Umbridge walk up to him.

"If I understand correctly, you want to see us, Professor Dumbledore?" Umbridge asked, her voice more sly than usual.

Dumbledore smiled, drew out his wand and gave it a slight shake - Umbridge paused for a moment in alarm - and two rather comfortable-looking armchairs with floral print cushions appeared opposite him.

"Good afternoon, Dolores," he said cheerfully. "Good afternoon, Henry. I hope I haven't disturbed your little gathering too much. Please take a seat."

"Not at all, Professor Dumbledore," said Anthony.

When both men were seated, Dumbledore sat up straight, touching his fingertips together, and studied Anthony from behind his half-moon glasses. "So, how are you doing, Henry?"

Anthony said with a little doubt: "Not bad..." Then, he suddenly thought of Umbridge sitting next to him, "But, sir, I think there is something you may want to know--"

"As long as you are willing to tell me, Henry, I am always happy to know." Dumbledore interrupted him gently, "Before that, let me confirm one thing: do you have any plans to leave Hogwarts?"

"Me? Not yet," Anthony said, glancing at Umbridge again.

Umbridge leaned back in her chair, lowered her head, and played with the lace of her cuffs with her stubby, ring-covered fingers. What annoyed Anthony was that Umbridge's big toad-like mouth was grinning complacently, and she obviously knew what they were talking about, but she herself didn't know what was going on.

Dumbledore pushed the parchment next to him. "Just as I thought."

Anthony took it and looked down. The whole letter was written in a purple ink with a slight golden sheen, and the handwriting was neat.

The letter began like this: Because Professor Henry Anthony of your school (Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, hereinafter referred to as Hogwarts) has devoted himself to research and achieved remarkable results, we hereby approve his application and agree to his joining the Department of Mysteries of the Ministry of Magic.

"What?" Anthony said, looking up at Dumbledore, who was leaning forward slightly with great interest, reading the letter backwards across from him, as if he found it all very interesting.

Anthony continued to look down:

According to the International Consensus on Magical Research and the International Code of Special Magical Affairs, the Unspoken cannot hold any position outside the Ministry of Magic. In view of this, Hogwarts should assist Professor Henry Anthony to resign from his position as professor. I hereby inform you that you will comply with this before July 1st.

Senior Undersecretary to the Ministry of Magic
Dolores Jane Umbridge
Above the words "Senior Undersecretary for Magic" and Umbridge's name was a lavender Ministry of Magic stamp.

The letter ends.

Anthony looked from Dumbledore - his blue eyes still fixed on the letter with interest - then from the letter - the "MOM" on the Ministry stamp swirling slowly - then from Umbridge - she squinted at the letter with a nasty smile and said delicately, "Oh, I forgot to congratulate you, Professor Anthony."

There were so many questions gathered in Anthony's throat that he seemed to be choked for a moment and had no idea what to ask first.

"But I think it's not too late now." Umbridge said hypocritically, "Professor Anthony, I am very happy to welcome you as my colleague. The work of the Unspeakables is important and noble, of course, mysterious... Oh, by the way, we hope to put you in the Hall of the Dead."

Anthony stared at Umbridge, with a dangerous urge to stuff the letter into her gaping mouth. After losing his peaceful, day-to-day life as a cashier, he ran head-on into this bizarre magical world, and after he fell in love with Hogwarts, they actually expected to strip him from this stable and warm life - his life - again?

He took a deep breath.

Anthony heard himself ask, "Hall of Death?"

"I'm sure you'll like it there. You'll find it suits you very well," said Umbridge. She turned to Dumbledore. "You won't object, will you, Headmaster?"

Dumbledore said calmly: "As long as Professor Anthony has not submitted his resignation to me, he will remain a professor at Hogwarts."

"We all know very well why the Ministry of Magic agreed to let you take him away." Umbridge gestured to Anthony when she mentioned "him", but did not look at him. "Hogwarts once assured the Ministry of Magic that Anthony's identity would not be discovered by the public, and that he would not take any actions that threaten the wizarding world."

"I think I did say that," said Dumbledore politely.

"Now, since Hogwarts cannot honor your promise, perhaps it is best to place the magically dangerous elements under the supervision of the Ministry of Magic. This was also the agreement we reached at the time."

Dumbledore said, "I don't think I quite understand. Where has Hogwarts failed to keep its promise?"

"Oh, Dumbledore, you understand." Umbridge narrowed her eyes slightly, "You did not fulfill your duty of supervision at all, but allowed a dark wizard to roam around the school, and even allowed him to oppose the Ministry of Magic and hinder the investigation of the Inquisitor..."

"I thought I was doing a good thing," Anthony said.

"Tsk, tsk, you can say whatever you want now." Umbridge said with a smile, "But you will soon realize that the Department of Mysteries is more suitable for you than Azkaban."

Anthony asked, "What if I say no?"

"Oh, no. No, no, no, you can't say no," said Umbridge, as if Anthony was a willful child. "The work of the Unspeakables is very important. People certainly can't just join or leave the Department of Mysteries at will, otherwise everything will be messed up, right? Just like it says here -" She stood up, walked around the chair, and looked at the letter closely, "Yes, the International Regulations on Special Magical Matters - it requires the Unspeakables of each country to keep the magic they study secret."

Umbridge paused complacently: "As for the requirements of the British Ministry of Magic... wizards cannot leave within three years after becoming a Silent Man, and cannot work outside the Ministry of Magic within five years after leaving. Since you have joined the Department of Mysteries, I guess it won't be easy to leave." She patted Anthony's arm comfortingly and put her hand on his shoulder. Anthony turned his head, looked directly at her, and repeated: "And what if I say no?"

Umbridge smiled: "The Department of Mysteries is not Azkaban, Anthony. Do you think those dark creatures are some advanced magic? Stunning spells, or some other mumbling stuff... wizards have already found ways to deal with them."

Anthony suddenly heard a slight cracking sound. Almost instantly, several streams of black smoke emerged from between her fingers, wrapped around her thick and short fingers, and then quickly flowed through her entire palm... It was not until then that Anthony noticed that one of her ugly rings had a broken ring face.

Anthony was surprised to find that his necromancy had suddenly disappeared. He could no longer feel it. He felt empty, as if he had suddenly discovered that his roommate had moved out, the shoes and umbrella at the door had disappeared, and the buzzing of the bees in the kitchen had even echoed.

Dumbledore's expression became focused. "Gravedigger's Hand, Dolores? I thought someone as opposed to the Dark Arts as you would not use such a thing?"

"A magical item that has been searched, confiscated and audited by the Ministry of Magic." Umbridge corrected, "Don't worry, Dumbledore, you know what this thing is used for. As long as your professor doesn't try to use dark magic, he will be fine."

Dumbledore gave Anthony a sharp, concerned look.

Anthony smiled at him and tried to push Umbridge's hand away, but found that he could not lift it. In fact, he found that he could not move at all - his heart was slowly losing its rhythm - his blood was flowing slower and slower - in general, he was gradually becoming what he should have been: an ordinary corpse.

"I thought we were going to have a lighthearted conversation, Dolores," Dumbledore said seriously. "I am surprised that you seem rather offensive and impulsive."

He felt every inch of this body, trying to find where the necromancy had gone. Dumbledore might have thought that Anthony had a soul like those necromancers in history. He probably didn't expect that Anthony was actually made of necromancy. Without necromancy, he would be a corpse. But this didn't make sense. Without necromancy, how could he still think clearly? Shouldn't he be like a good corpse, thinking nothing? But then again, he didn't know if other corpses really thought nothing...

"You must be surprised, Anthony," Umbridge said softly, "The department you are about to join has done a little experimentation on this magical item, specifically targeting inferior dark creatures..."

He found it.

Dumbledore seemed to be talking to Umbridge about whether the necromancers were dark creatures or humans, or about Dumbledore not agreeing to Umbridge's request. But he didn't care much anymore. He found it, or rather, the necromancy found him. The necromancy followed his thoughts and filled every corner of this body. The tide surged back, the waves rolled, and the waves hit the shore.

The soul closest to him was like a bottle of milk that had been left for a long time, with the lid slightly bulging and pale yellow solids condensed on the bottle wall, making people not want to unscrew the cap. But it could also be a bottle of yogurt, still edible. There was such a probability.

No.

A little further away, there was another soul, a mixture of sweet and sour flavors and some complex spice smell, and it was gradually becoming stronger, like an apple pie in the oven.

No.

Apple pie sounds good, doesn't it? He thought. And he was a little hungry.

No.

He heard some noises: "The Ministry of Magic... the Department of Mysteries... is asking..." The voice was intermittent, as if it came from above the water.

"But Henry Anthony is the Muggle Studies professor at Hogwarts," Apple Pie said very clearly.

That smells really delicious.

No. Anthony thought.

Light and sound flooded into his consciousness.

The world tilted slightly, as if everything would fall down with just a slight push - everything, Umbridge's disgusting smile, the letter written in purple ink, the black tea on the table, Dumbledore's half-moon glasses, the silver instruments that blew smoke, the tall windows, the ancient bricks...

The sweet voices, the sneers outside the window, the arrogant and stupid tones, Peeves's shrieks, Myrtle's cries, the fierce quarrels, the loud training whistles on the Quidditch field, the laughter... all these chaotic sounds, just need a slight push, and they will return to a "pop", followed by an endless, empty silence...

Fox chirped crisply.

... and he would go down with it. Anthony would go down with it.

Umbridge was saying: "...he might be terrified at first, hesitant and trembling, but the Minister would realise that it was necessary. He would not approve of it, of course, but the Quiet Man -"

Her voice suddenly stopped, because Anthony turned his head, raised his hand, and removed her short, thick, smoke-wrapped hand from his shoulder.

Umbridge's mouth was half open, as if she had suddenly been stuck on her own words.

Dumbledore smiled at Anthony, fingertips touching fingertips, waiting calmly.

Anthony said, “I said no.”

(End of this chapter)