The slacker professor at Hogwarts

Chapter 101 Avada Kedavra

Snape was annoyed when Boggart pushed him back into the real world. He had to leave the fantasy world and face reality, and perhaps only reality could give him the answer.

Bogut chuckled and waved his arms at his retreating figure, "Go Severus!"

Just as he was about to shut down the portal from his mind back to reality, he suddenly heard Harry call out to him.

"Professor Lockhart, wait!"

When it comes to stepping up to save everyone in times of crisis and turning the tide, how could our savior Harry Potter be left out?

Moreover, he clearly saw that his good friend Ron was in great danger under the werewolf's attack.

Harry glanced back at Lily Potter, who had been standing beside him the whole time, his eyes filled with longing yet unwavering resolve. "Mama, I have to go protect everyone!"

He was reluctant to leave his mother, and he was very grateful to Professor Lockhart for giving him the opportunity to embark on this wonderful journey. These few days were definitely the best time of his life.

But he knew he had to say goodbye; he had to take responsibility. He wouldn't feel regret, because he knew his mother would always be there for him.

"Go on, my brave little hero." Lily gently straightened Harry's collar.

"Yes!" Harry gripped his wand tightly. "You'll be proud of me!"

As he spoke, he strode into the painted light and shadow, not daring to look back, afraid that his mother would see the reluctant tears in his eyes.

Harry, go for it!

Lockhart looked at Harry in amazement and suddenly understood why Harry Potter was the savior. Some people don't need the call of adventure; their inner beliefs are enough to make them brave enough to take that step.

He's way better than Old Stalin.

"You have a wonderful son." He looked at Lily Potter, whose body was gradually becoming transparent and about to dissipate, with admiration. "Yes." Lily looked very proud and gave him a wizard's salute. "Professor Lockhart, thank you for giving me this opportunity to see Harry properly again."

"No need to thank me." Lockhart shrugged. "Your bloodline magic has been protecting Harry all along, which is why you had this opportunity. This is the first time I've felt a power that transcends life and death so directly. It's wonderful."

Speaking of the beautiful things, Lockhart seemed a little puzzled, "Why did I feel like Severus couldn't see you just now? He was standing right in front of you, didn't you want to see him?"

Lily rolled her eyes, looking utterly helpless. "It's that coward Severus who's afraid to see me, and doesn't want to see me. I was hoping to chat with him for a bit!"

what?

Is that so?

Lockhart didn't understand. He didn't understand everything. The human heart was too unpredictable. No one could be sure that Snape could love Lily while simultaneously hating her.

This is too complicated. For someone like him who longs to live freely, it's best not to overthink it.

Dark magic creatures are cuter.

In Lockhart's eyes, Tom Riddle in the Horcrux of the diary is currently a dark magical creature.

It has extremely clear characteristics of 'non-existence' and 'phenomenon'.

This academic understanding helped him comprehend the memories of those dozen or so powerful wizards in his mind, and what kind of existence they were.

Lockhart sometimes has to admit that he is not a good person.

Despite knowing full well that the original owner's act of stealing memories was immoral, he still followed the original owner's old path relentlessly after transmigrating.

Having traveled to the present day, he has also stolen the memories of two powerful wizards—the Death Eater Amycus Caro and the Dark Lord's cub Tom Riddle.

Of course, he wasn't ashamed at all.

At least that's how it is now.

Because he's a bloodthirsty werewolf whose mind is filled only with savage killing.

A perpetual hunger and dissatisfaction churn within him.

"Roar~~~~"

With a scream from Hermione, his massive, furry body leaped up with tremendous force, slamming heavily against the castle window frame. He then used his hands and feet to pry open the huge werewolf head and greedily stared at the delicious-looking Tom.

"Run!"

Hermione reacted so quickly, grabbing the red robe her grandmother claimed could ward off any monster in the forest, kicking the still-dazed Tom out the door, slamming the door shut, and then dragging the fool away like a madwoman towards the depths of the castle. "Useless," Tom's expression was so gloomy and desperate, "There's still an hour until the full moon ends, enough time for it to tear us to shreds. We might as well be dignified—"

"Hey!" Hermione stopped in her tracks, turned around, and looked at him coldly. "Do you think you're so smart? That you've calculated everything? That you rationally foresee all possible outcomes? But sometimes we have to abandon so-called rationality and intelligence and choose to hope for a miracle!"

"A miracle?" Tom thought it was a ridiculous notion. "It's laughable!"

"Magic! Magic can always work miracles!" Hermione's voice was so firm, more firm than ever before.

Choosing not to rely entirely on reason and wisdom, but to believe in the possibilities that magic can bring.

Even if we don't go into such a mysterious way.

Let's say that in an hour, the full moon will end, the werewolf will lose his fangs and strong body, while Tom will gain a powerful beast's body, which is also a hope.

She would never give up hope!

And so they began a frantic run through the castle, constantly dodging the pursuit of the terrifying werewolves behind them.

The werewolves relentlessly pursued them, their roars echoing throughout the castle. Sometimes, relying on their familiarity with the castle, they would slip into secret passages, destroying entire walls and sending bricks and stones flying.

Finally, with nowhere left to run, they arrived at the deepest cellar of the castle.

There was only one frozen flower left, its petals almost all withered, with only one dry petal hanging precariously on it.

"A miracle—" Tom pursed his lips. He didn't know why he didn't believe in miracles. Maybe his missing memories could tell him the answer. Maybe he had experienced a moment when he was full of hope and expectation for a miracle to happen, only to have it completely destroyed.

He gazed at the flower encased in ice. "The old witch in the forest said that if someone could give me true love, it would give me the strength to overcome anything—"

He chuckled, his eyes filled with disgust, "Love? What a ridiculous notion."

Hermione, standing to the side, was too lazy to even retort—"You yourself think that way, so even if love truly comes your way..."

You will also turn a blind eye.

Just like her previous feelings about magic.

Hermione was busy; she quickly cast a reinforcing spell on the stone door and then tried to use magic to destroy the other side of the wall in hopes of opening an exit, perhaps they weren't completely cornered yet.

Unfortunately, she was only a second-year wizard, and even with her exceptional talent, she still couldn't master many offensive spells.

What should I do?

What other magic can be used?

She tried hard to recall all the magic she had ever seen.

Just then, she suddenly felt her hand loosen, and she quickly looked up to find that Tom Riddle had snatched her wand.

"Give it back to me!" she shouted anxiously.

Tom ignored her, only looking at the wand in his hand, seemingly lost in thought, sometimes full of confusion.

He gently waved his wand at the wall, "Avada Kedavra!"

Light, elegant, and relaxed.

However, the sheer elegance with which he cast the spell created an immense spectacle.

A flash of green light, accompanied by a tremendous roar, caused the wall in front of them to explode, sending stones flying and revealing a huge gap.

"The Killing Curse?!" Hermione gasped, took a step back, and stared at the young man in disbelief.

She had no idea that this person was a wizard, and a dark wizard at that, who cast the Unforgivable Curse right in front of her!

And she does it so effortlessly and skillfully!

This person is dangerous!

It was far more dangerous than she imagined!

Tom looked at his wand with delight after casting the spell, but seeing Hermione's frightened expression, he casually explained, "The Killing Curse isn't just for killing people; it can also destroy objects when it misses, making it more useful than the Explosion Curse in many situations."

"Huh, what's an Explosion Spell?"

Tom looked on blankly.

But he quickly looked up again, because the werewolf appeared in front of the hole in the wall they had destroyed, trying to pry its way in.

He waved his wand again.

"No!" Hermione cried out and rushed forward to grab her wand, trying to stop the dark wizard. She was clearly aware of the danger of using someone else to devour someone else, but it was too late.

"Avada Kedavra!"

The wand swung lightly.

The green light struck the werewolf directly, with remarkable effect. The werewolf instantly lost its life force, becoming a lifeless, pale shadow.

Tom looked very pleased with himself.

Tom was still a little confused.

He clearly remembered that killing could bring powerful magical energy, which forcibly separated the soul from the body.

In the process of destroying all the vitality of the soul, all the will, emotions, and desires of the soul in this world explode like fireworks, triggering a powerful magic.

This magic power is enough for him to create Horcruxes that can escape death, but he can't feel this magic power now.

Wait a minute, what's a Horcrux?

He was once again lost in confusion.

In that brief moment of hesitation, his wand was suddenly snatched away again, and by the time he realized what was happening, the witch had already taken it from him.

The witch gripped her wand tightly, aimed it at him, and backed away step by step.

But this is meaningless.

He had discovered that he could actually use magic, and that he was at his most powerful when he wasn't a monster!

Let me show you that the Killing Curse doesn't necessarily require a wand to cast.

"Foolish little witch." He looked at her with a sneer. "I kept you in the castle so you could help me lure out that werewolf—..."

"Werewolves only attack wizards, and since you have the blood of an old witch flowing in your veins, you are undoubtedly a witch. Werewolves will definitely target you."

He curled his lips into a smug smile. "After the werewolf eats you, it will definitely be unable to resist putting on that red cloak, because it will make this lonely and sensitive creature feel safe, like a snail retreating into its shell, even if it turns it back into a human with no power."

You're useless now.

?

Tom Riddle slowly raised his hand. "Avada Kedavra!"