Chapter 100: Avada Kedavra
Snape was unhappily shoved back into the real world by the Boggart. He had to leave the illusion and face reality; perhaps only reality could give him answers.
The Boggart chuckled at his retreating back, waving its arm. "Severus, go for it!"
Just as it was about to close the channel from mind back to reality, it suddenly heard Harry call out to it.
"Professor Lockhart, wait!"
How could our Savior, Harry Potter, be absent from a moment of crisis when someone needed to step forward and save everyone, turning the tide?
Especially since he clearly saw that his good friend Ron was in grave danger from the werewolf's attack.
Harry turned to look at Lily Potter, who had been standing beside him, his eyes full of reluctance, yet so resolute. "Mum, I have to go protect everyone!"
He couldn't bear to leave his mother. He was very grateful to Professor Lockhart for giving him the chance to embark on this magical journey; these few short days were undoubtedly 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 watching over him.
"Go, my brave little hero." Lily gently straightened Harry's collar.
"Mmm!" Harry gripped his wand tightly. "You'll be proud of me!"
Saying that, he strode into the light-and-shadow projection. He dared not look back, fearing his mother would see the tears of reluctance in his eyes.
Harry bravely charged!
Lockhart looked at Harry with admiration, suddenly understanding why Harry Potter was the Savior. Some people truly didn't need the call to adventure; their inner conviction was enough to make them bravely take that step.
Much more impressive than old Snivellus.
"You have an excellent son," he said, full of praise, looking at Lily Potter, who was gradually becoming transparent and about to dissipate. "Yes." Lily looked very proud, performing a wizard's bow to him. "Professor Lockhart, thank you for this opportunity, allowing me to see Harry well again."
"Don't thank me," Lockhart shrugged. "Your blood magic has always protected Harry, which gave you this opportunity. This is the first time I've so directly experienced power beyond life and death. It's truly wonderful."
Speaking of wonderful, Lockhart was a bit confused. "Why did I feel just now that Severus couldn't see you, even though you were standing right in front of him? Did you not want to see him?"
Lily rolled her eyes, looking quite helpless. "It's Severus the coward who didn't dare to see me, and didn't want to see me. I actually wanted to chat with him!"
Huh?
Is that so?
Lockhart didn't understand. He didn't understand everything. The human heart was too unfathomable. Could anyone be sure that Snape, while loving Lily, couldn't also hate her at the same time?
It was too complicated. For someone like him, who longed to live freely, it was better to ponder less.
Dark magical creatures were cuter.
In Lockhart's eyes, Tom Riddle in the diary Horcrux was currently a dark magical creature.
It had very clear characteristics of "non-existence" and "phenomenon."
Such academic understanding helped him comprehend the nature of the dozen or so powerful wizard memories in his mind.
Lockhart sometimes had to admit that he wasn't a good person.
Despite clearly knowing that the original body's act of stealing memories was immoral, he continued down the original body's dark path after transmigrating.
Since his transmigration, he had stolen the memories of two powerful wizards: the Death Eater Alecto Carrow and the Dark Lord's young self, Tom Riddle.
Of course, he felt no shame whatsoever.
At least for now.
Because he was a bloodthirsty werewolf with only wild killing left in his mind.
A never-ending hunger for greed and dissatisfaction always churned within him.
"Roar~~~~"
Accompanied by Hermione's startled scream, his massive, furry body leaped with powerful spring, heavily hitting the castle window frame. Clawing with his hands and feet, he thrust his huge werewolf head into the castle, greedily eyeing the delicious Tom.
"Run!"
Hermione reacted incredibly fast. She grabbed the red robe that Grandma said could fight the all-devouring monsters in the forest with one hand, kicked the still-dazed Tom out the door with a foot, slammed the door shut, and then dragged the idiot, running like mad towards the depths of the castle. "It's useless," Tom's expression was so dark and despairing. "There's still an hour until the full moon ends. That's enough time for it to tear us to shreds. We might as well face it with dignity—."
"Hey!" Hermione couldn't help but stop, turning to look at him coldly. "Do you think you're so smart? Calculating everything? Rationally predicting every possible outcome? But sometimes we have to abandon so-called rationality and intelligence, and choose to hope for miracles!"
"Miracles?" Tom scoffed. "Ridiculous!"
"Magic! Magic can always bring miracles!" Hermione's tone was incredibly firm, firmer than ever before.
She chose not to entirely rely on rationality and wisdom, willing to believe in the possibilities that magic could bring.
Even without getting so mystical.
Consider that the full moon night would end in an hour, and the werewolf would lose its fangs and strong body. Conversely, Tom would gain a powerful beastly form. This was also hope.
She would absolutely never give up hope!
And so, they began a desperate dash through the castle, constantly evading the terrifying werewolf's pursuit.
The werewolf chased relentlessly, its roars echoing throughout the castle. Sometimes they would use their familiarity with the castle to duck into secret passages, only for entire walls to be destroyed by the werewolf, sending bricks and stones flying.
Finally, they had nowhere left to run and arrived at the deepest part of the castle, the cellar.
Only a single frozen flower remained there, its petals almost all withered, with only one dry, dangling petal clinging precariously.
"Miracles—" Tom sneered. He didn't know why he didn't believe in miracles. Perhaps his missing memories could tell him the answer, perhaps he had experienced a moment of fervent hope for a miracle that was utterly destroyed.
He gazed at the frozen flower. "The old witch in the forest said that if someone could give me true love, it would grant me the power to overcome everything—"
He laughed, his eyes filled with disgust. "Love? What a ridiculous notion."
Hermione, at his side, was too tired to even retort. If you already feel that way, even if true love came to you, you would still ignore it.
Just like her own feelings towards magic before.
Hermione wasn't idle. She quickly cast strengthening charms on the stone door, then tried to magically destroy the wall on the other side, hoping to open an exit. Perhaps they weren't at a dead end yet.
But unfortunately, she was only a second-year witch. Even being so brilliant, she still didn't master many offensive spells.
What to do?
What other magic could she use?
She desperately recalled every spell she had ever read about.
As she was thinking, she suddenly felt her hand loosen, and she quickly looked up to see that Tom Riddle had snatched her wand.
"Give it back!" she cried out anxiously.
Tom ignored her, merely examining the wand in his hand, looking somewhat enlightened, at times completely lost.
He gently waved the wand towards the wall. "Avada Kedavra!"
Light, elegant, effortless.
Yet, as he cast the spell with such grace, the impact was immense.
A flash of green light, accompanied by a tremendous roar, and the wall before them exploded, sending stones flying, revealing a massive gap.
"The Killing Curse?!!!" Hermione gasped, subtly stepping back, staring in disbelief at the young man before her.
She had no idea this person was a wizard, let alone a dark wizard, casting an Unforgivable Curse right in front of her!
And doing it so easily and skillfully!
This was a dangerous person!
Far more dangerous than she had imagined!
After casting the spell, Tom looked at the wand with delight. Seeing Hermione's frightened expression, he casually explained, "The Killing Curse isn't just for killing people. When it doesn't hit a person, it also destroys objects. In many ways, it's better than a Blasting Curse."
"Huh, what's a Blasting Curse?"
Tom said, his eyes becoming blank.
But he quickly looked up again, because the werewolf had appeared in the broken wall opening they had created, clawing at the gap, about to burst in.
He waved his wand again.
"No!" Hermione shrieked, rushing forward to snatch her wand, trying to stop the dark wizard. She clearly realized the danger of "driving the wolf away only to welcome the tiger," but it was too late.
"Avada Kedavra!"
The wand moved lightly.
The green light struck the werewolf directly. The effect was remarkable; the werewolf instantly lost its vibrant color, darkening to a lifeless pallor.
Tom looked very pleased.
Tom was also a bit confused.
He distinctly remembered that killing living beings could bring immense magical power; it was the forced separation of soul and body.
In the process of destroying all soul activity, all will, emotion, and desire of the soul in this world exploded like fireworks, generating powerful magic.
With this magic, he could create Horcruxes to evade death, but he wasn't feeling this magic now.
Wait, what are Horcruxes again?
He once again fell into confusion.
In that brief moment of distraction, the wand in his hand was violently yanked away again. By the time he reacted, the witch before him had already snatched the wand.
The witch gripped the wand tightly, pointing it at him, retreating step by step.
But it was meaningless.
He had already discovered that he could perform magic, and that when he wasn't a monster, that was when he was most powerful!
Let me show you: the Killing Curse doesn't necessarily need a wand to be cast.
"Foolish little witch." He sneered at her. "I originally kept you in the castle because I wanted you to draw out that werewolf—"
"Werewolves only attack wizards, and with the old witch's bloodline flowing in you, you're undoubtedly a witch. The werewolf would definitely target you."
A slight smirk played on his lips, full of triumph. "After the werewolf eats you, it will definitely be unable to resist putting on that red cloak, because it will make a lonely, sensitive creature like it feel safe, like a snail retracting into its shell, even if that means turning back into a powerless human."
"You're useless now."
?
Tom Riddle slowly raised his hand. "Avada Kedavra!"
....
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