The days at Hogwarts

The blade is so thick and sharp. If it falls, it will definitely not be like Nick who almost lost his head. There will not be any tendons or flesh stuck to it. He seemed to have seen the scene of his own blood spurting and his head being chopped off.

In great fear, Peter Pettigrew could no longer bear it and screamed in panic: "No, no! No! You can't do this to me. You are a student of Hogwarts. You should hand me over to Dumbledore and the Ministry of Magic!"

The crystal chandelier on the ceiling stopped shaking at some point, and the whole room became quiet, so quiet that Loren's footsteps could be heard.

Loren came to Peter Pettigrew and lowered his head slightly. His childish face looked a little gloomy in the place where the light could not reach. "You may have misunderstood, Mr. Peter. I am not executing on behalf of wizards and the Ministry of Magic, but on behalf of Muggles."

"Muggle?" Peter Pettigrew widened his eyes.

"November 1981, Hampshire, do you remember?" Loren said, stepping back to the rope. "Now, repent for your sins."

As the magic wand passed, the invisible blade cut through the rope, and the linen rope broke instantly. The blade on the guillotine lost its traction, and the heavy blade fell straight down the chute under the action of gravity, faster and faster, and fell in front of Peter in the blink of an eye.

The blade cut through the short, thick neck without any hindrance. A flash of icy coolness passed by so quickly that Peter suspected it was some kind of illusion and it was not very painful.

Warm blood spurted out, and his vision seemed to fly up. He saw his body lying there, twitching slightly twice.

The scene before his eyes gradually became blurred and dim... This was the last scene Peter Pettigrew saw.

"Maybe the blade should be made duller..." Loren shook his head and raised his right foot and stomped lightly.

Crash, the whole world began to tremble, the chandelier fell down, and the crystal shattered on the ground, as if hitting a mirror and shattering the whole world.

There was a tingling pain around my neck, as if something was stuck there, and my hands were a little sore from being tied behind my back... Also, the wooden planks under my feet seemed a little loose.

This was the thought that gradually came to Peter Pettigrew's mind after he regained consciousness. He opened his eyes and found himself standing on a platform with wooden boards extending from the platform under his feet. His hands were tied tightly behind his back and a rope with thorns was wrapped around his neck.

"Gallows!" Peter Pettigrew reacted instantly and began to struggle violently.

He tried to break free from the rope, but the soaked rope only tightened around his wrists, cutting his skin. After realizing that he couldn't untie the rope, he started jumping around in place, trying to free his neck from the rope loop.

The wooden platform made a banging sound.

"Calm down, Mr. Peter." Loren's voice sounded from behind on the right. After a series of footsteps, the little wizard with a devilish face appeared in front of him. "Don't panic, please calm down. You've died once, right?"

Guillotine...thick blade...headless body...

Those scenes with real details and clear colors appeared in his mind. The flash of coldness and the feeling of weightlessness as if his head flew off seemed to have just happened. Peter Pettigrew's pupils contracted violently and he shouted in panic: "You, who are you? Why are you doing this to me?"

"Me? Just a relative of a victim." Loren shook his head slowly. "It doesn't matter. Please let me introduce you to the gallows."

"There are many forms of hanging. In the Middle Ages, the oldest hanging method was to pull the rope by hand, and the rope passed through a pulley or a chute to hang the prisoner. It was troublesome and laborious... Here I used the later modified classic gallows, which is said to be more humane...

It is like this now, a gallows with a fixed height and a retractable wooden board. When I pull the board, Mr. Peter's body will fall down. Generally speaking, your cervical vertebrae will be broken, and then you will suffocate and suffer from cerebral anemia. The death process will probably last for several minutes. "

Even though he had just died once, the threat of death was right in front of him, and the fear made him unable to calm down and think.

"No! No!" Peter Pettigrew's eyes were filled with bloodshot. "You can't do this to me! I want to see Dumbledore! I want to see Dumbledore!"

"Save your energy, Mr. Peter, this will last several minutes." Loren laughed and kicked the wooden board under his feet.

"Well……"

Peter Pettigrew's body fell suddenly, without any support under his feet. The weight of his whole body was instantly pressed on his neck. The rope loop shrank and tightened little by little, but his cervical vertebrae did not break.

"Oh, sorry, Mr. Peter." Loren frowned, his words full of sincere apology, "The length of the hanging rope should be quantified according to the height and weight of the person, so as to achieve the effect of breaking the spine 100% and killing the prisoner, but I seem to have overlooked this step. I can only trouble you to slowly suffocate to death."

“You…ho…ho…”

The blood vessels on Peter Pettigrew's face gradually bulged, his face turned red, and his mung bean-sized eyes slowly protruded from their sockets under the influence of blood pressure, making him look particularly ferocious.His short, fat body twitched and his limbs swayed stiffly, like a dying pig.

His eyeballs rolled up involuntarily, and large patches of white began to show. Peter Pettigrew wanted to grit his teeth and close his jaw, but he gradually lost strength and his body was out of his control.

I began to feel swelling and pain on both sides of my temples, and the blood supply above the neck gradually became insufficient. Things in front of my eyes began to blur and the colors gradually dimmed until only a grayish white was left in the world.

……

His blurred consciousness returned to his body again, Peter Pettigrew suddenly opened his eyes, and what came into his sight was the devil's face again.

Loren had a smile on his face, but the words he said were frightening: "Mr. Peter Pettigrew, please let me introduce you to the stake..."

……

"Mr. Peter Pettigrew, please allow me to introduce you to the electric chair..."

……

Beheading, cutting in half, shooting, poison gas, injection, drowning, crushing, and burying alive.

After experiencing twelve different ways of dying, when Peter Pettigrew opened his eyes again, they had completely lost focus, leaving only a dead silence mixed with exhaustion and indifference.

Using all his strength, he turned his head slightly and found that the room around him was no longer any luxuriously decorated room, but the storage room of the Room of Requirement, which was filled with mountains of old items.

Finally returning to the real world, a glimmer of hope rose in his heart. If the twelve deaths were all illusions, then did that mean...

A glimmer of life appeared in his dead eyes. He looked at the little wizard tremblingly, his lips moving as he begged, "Don't, don't kill me, please, I have information about the Dark Lord..."

"Intelligence? I can search through your memory myself." Loren came closer, his black eyes revealing an oppressive and penetrating gaze, as if it could penetrate the barrier of flesh and blood, penetrate into the brain, and into the depths of the soul.

Peter Pettigrew had seen this familiar look in the Dark Lord's eyes before. His eyes were about to burst, and he squeezed out a shrill voice from his throat with the little strength he had: "Legitimate Psychic!?"

At the moment when these words came out, a brilliant golden light burst out from the index finger of Loren's right hand, followed by Dumbledore's old voice: "Fountain of Good Luck..."

Hearing the familiar voice, surprise flashed across Peter Pettigrew's desperate eyes. He struggled and shouted loudly: "Professor Dumbledore, save me, save me!"

Loren looked at the finger in surprise when he heard the voice. He remembered that he seemed to have made a contract with Dumbledore before, saying that he would not use Legilimency before graduation in exchange for the location of the Fountain of Luck.

Looking at Peter Pettigrew who was struggling to death and trying to ask Dumbledore for help, Loren's smile remained unchanged, and he looked even more sinister: "Not using Legilimency doesn't mean I have to keep you..."

Chapter 304 Tonight is Long

This house is darker than usual. Dilapidated old items are piled up into small hills. The rustling sounds are made by unknown dark creatures hiding in their nests made of garbage. The smell of decay and old dust shows that this is a forgotten place.

Outside the high windows of the dome was a thick cloud, not letting in any light.

In this thick darkness, a brilliant golden light is particularly dazzling, like a blooming sunflower.

Loren stopped Legilimency, and the golden light of the contract on his finger faded, and the whole room fell into thick darkness again.

"Headmaster Dumbledore always wants me to be a saint, but there are no saints in this world. Wasn't he also very irritable when he was young? I'm really sorry. Besides, I'm not that interested in information about Voldemort..."

Loren said quietly, as if he was talking to himself, or to Peter Pettigrew, "But I still don't want to disappoint the headmaster's kindness, so I'll just follow the wizard's method. What do you think, Mr. Wormtail?"

"Wha, what do you mean?"

Peter Pettigrew looked up tremblingly. The face with black hair and black pupils had an indifferent expression, almost not like a living person. The scene of being executed by twelve kinds of punishments appeared in his mind again and again. The unprecedented fear of death grabbed his heart like a pair of hands, making his whole body stiff.

"It means..." Loren stretched his hand to his chest and made a gesture of taking something out. After a moment, a smooth black stone appeared in his hand. He smiled gently at Peter Pettigrew, "Dementor's Kiss."

Peter Pettigrew's eyes suddenly widened, and before he could react, the stone was already pressed against his forehead.

The stone was icy cold and made Peter Pettigrew shiver. The cold penetrated his skin and went straight into his brain, spreading through his body along his bone marrow, as if to freeze his entire body.

Loren withdrew his finger, and the Soul Stone was already fixed between Peter Pettigrew's eyebrows.

When he first got the Soul Stone on the yacht, he discovered that the Soul Stone had the same magical power as the Dementors, and could absorb people's emotions, memories, and even souls.

The first Soul Stone was refined into Bloody Mary's Mirror, which enhanced her memory and soul abilities. The second Soul Stone, which he got on the Hogwarts Express, was now used as a torture device.

Loren stood aside with an indifferent look, watching a thin layer of white frost gradually cover the whole body of the short and fat middle-aged man in front of him. The alien magic power representing the soul continued to gather towards the stone.

He defected to Voldemort, betrayed the Potters, and massacred 12 Muggles and put the blame on others.

He didn't know why this kind of criminal was not executed when he arrived at the Ministry of Magic. Perhaps it was because the death penalty was abolished in Britain... Loren sneered.

The cyan face of Peter Pettigrew was pulled and stretched by some invisible magic, and gathered on the black stone. After an unknown amount of time, his mouth opened slightly, and a small ball of cyan light floated out and gradually rose.

Loren stared at the aura while recalling the description of the Dementors in his mind.

Under the influence of Dementors, wizards will feel that the light and warmth around them are being sucked away, and they will gradually fall into darkness and coldness. Courage and hope will fade, and fear and nothingness will gradually take over their hearts. If they are not rescued in time, their souls will eventually be sucked away.

Not killed, the brain and heart are still working, even without the soul it can still live, but no self-awareness, no memory, no anything. And there is no hope of recovery, just an empty, living shell.

So... this faint aura is Peter Pettigrew's soul?

Another doubt arose in his mind. If the happiness and hope absorbed by the Dementors evoked fear and nothingness, would fear still remain in the empty shell after the soul was sucked out?

Or all the emotions and memories have been sucked away, and this body is just a vegetable.

When the spiritual light was completely absorbed by the Soul Stone under the attraction of the suction force, a tear oozed from the corner of Peter the Dwarf's eye, and was frozen by the coldness, turning into an ice bead on the white frost. Finally, he twitched and became motionless.

Perhaps he recalled his past happy memories in his last moments, perhaps he was repenting for his betrayal in his last moments, perhaps he regretted provoking Loren Morgan...

Loren didn't care. He stretched out his wand and picked it up. The Soul Stone covered with white frost flew away from Peter Pettigrew's forehead and fell into his hand.

The moment he took action, Loren's head felt a little dizzy, and a cold chill was about to spread.

Loren pointed his wand at his palm: "Expecto Patronus"

A silvery-white light spurted out from the tip of the magic wand, swirled around the white and tender palm, and turned into a protective film.

Loren looked carefully at the Soul Stone, which was a circle larger than before. The smooth black stone was rising with the Dementors' gray magic, and the gray was mixed with tiny specks of green light. It seemed that the Soul Stone had not yet digested the soul and chewed it into dust-like powder.

The tip of the staff flicked gently, and the gushing silver-white guardian light separated into a thin thread, which extended towards the soul stone, stirring, delicately and meticulously bypassing the dark magic power, and touching a bit of fine spiritual light.

boom.

With a muffled sound, invisible magic power burst out, creating a slow air wave that cleansed and diffused the surrounding air.

The power is not strong, probably about the strength of a gentle breeze.

Loren raised his eyebrows. Although he had always heard Dumbledore talk about the incomparable magic of soul and love, he was a little surprised to see with his own eyes such a small fragment of soul, which could produce such a strong impact just by being touched without any magic.

So there really is powerful magic hidden in the soul, and Harry's mother used the magic of love in her soul to cast a protective spell. To this day, Voldemort is still powerless against this protective spell.

But this kind of magic power is difficult to use, even for oneself it is difficult to control.

After staring at the magic in the Soul Stone for a while, Loren suddenly remembered what Voldemort had mentioned...

Dumbledore's advocacy of love, Gryffindor's courage, Ravenclaw's wisdom, Hufflepuff's integrity and kindness, Slytherin's pursuit of honor...all because of the powerful magic hidden in the soul.

There is also the despicable Hercule, the mysterious Beedle the Bard, and even the Grim Reaper, mentioned by Flamel.

Could it be that... this distinctive trait is the way to discover soul magic and control extraordinary magical powers?

Loren's thinking did not yield any results, after all, he was only a third-year wizard. He probably wouldn't get any definite answer if he asked Flamel, as he was just brushed off last time.

Take it slow, he is still far from Dumbledore's level.

Loren put the Soul Stone into a small wooden box and put it back into the pendant. The room was quiet, with only some rustling sounds of goblins, foxes and elves. Although he convinced himself not to have such thoughts, he still couldn't help but fantasize about it.

If it were me, what kind of traits would I choose?

wisdom?

Although he is indeed very smart, his intelligence seems to be different from that of Ravenclaw.

courage?

Emmm... Although he is a Gryffindor and is indeed very brave, this word doesn't seem to be very suitable for him.

Just and kind?

Loren glanced at Peter Pettigrew, who was almost a vegetable, and then thought about what he had done. It seemed that this word was not appropriate.

No, punishing evil is promoting good, I am a kind and just person!

A series of characteristics flashed through his mind quickly. Finally, Loren shook his head and smiled: "Tsk, there are too many advantages. It's a bit difficult to choose."

Calming his mind, Loren began to deal with the crime scene. Looking at the frost that had melted on Peter Pettigrew's body and his chest that rose and fell slightly with his breathing, he cast a levitation spell to lift him up.

The Room of Requirement would still be useful in the future, and Loren didn't want to let the body die and rot here, and he was too lazy to burn it.

Loren pulled a piece of parchment from the pile of discarded items on both sides and walked out of the Room of Requirement with the two items. He passed by the tapestry of the silly Barnabas and the troll sleeping together and came to a window on the eighth floor.

It was dark outside, and the high-rise windows were particularly cold. Looking at Peter Pettigrew's face, Loren suddenly felt bored. He just wanted to go back and meet a girl as soon as possible.

The magic wand lightly touched the parchment, and the yellowed and damaged paper suddenly became smart, folded itself into a "V" shape, and flew out of the window with its paper wings flapping on both sides. When it reached the outside of the castle, the parchment grew in the wind, and the paper wings on both sides continued to grow and even grew feathers, turning into a hippogriff.

Loren waved again, and the unconscious Peter Pettigrew squeezed out of the window, but was grabbed by the collar by the winged beast's two front paws and hung in mid-air.

Transfiguration is enough to support flying out of the school. Tomorrow morning, someone will find Peter Pettigrew who was turned into a vegetable by the Dementors' kiss...

The fugitive was brought to justice, the Dementors took the blame, and everyone was happy.

No matter who investigates, this matter has nothing to do with a good, law-abiding third-grade student.

"Go." Loren patted the winged beast on the head.

The paper-winged beast that was transformed by the Transfiguration Art cried softly, flapped its wings, and flew away. Pulling the middle-aged man's body, the two figures of man and beast quickly disappeared into the thick night.

……

In front of the window of the principal's office.

The dark clouds in the sky were becoming thicker and thicker. The moon, which should have had a gap in it, was completely covered by the clouds. Only when the wind blew occasionally could a little light show through, illuminating the shape of the inky dark clouds.