stonecrandall Chapter 188, Section 187: Possession and the Authority of Death
Chapter 188, Section 187: Possession and the Authority of Death
Chapter 188, Section 187: Possession and the Authority of Death
The closer the crystal ball got to Harry...
The more intense the red light it emitted, the more dazzling it became, as if even the sunlight was being driven away, and the entire deserted corner was tinged with red.
It is like a blazing flame, dazzling and eye-catching.
at the same time.
As Ian continued to move the crystal ball closer.
The scar on Harry's forehead also seemed to be responding to some special call.
The lightning-shaped scar also flashed red light, the fluctuations of the light like breathing, forming an indescribable synchronized flashing with the red light of the crystal ball.
"Interesting." Ian's eyes narrowed slightly. He keenly sensed that this situation was definitely not normal, and there might be some rather interesting secrets hidden behind it.
"What... what's going on?" Harry Potter clearly sensed something was wrong; his scar was burning hot, which made him panic and raise his hand to cover his forehead.
"I think it was some minor accident? Related to the formation of your scar." Ian's gaze fell on the crystal ball in his hand. Inside the deep, dark crystal ball, something seemed to be quietly wriggling. It was a pair of faintly visible hands, pitch black, as if reaching out from endless darkness.
He was also holding something twisted in his hand.
The scene is not clear.
But you can still vaguely see the outline.
Although the hands were blurry, Ian could feel their strong presence.
Sometimes they coalesce into form, sometimes they vanish without a trace, like phantoms in the wind, elusive and unpredictable. The only certainty is that these black claws definitely do not belong to humans.
"Malfoy is really... somewhat unexpected." Ian didn't know where Malfoy's crystal ball came from, but he was certain that it was related to Voldemort.
Considering the situation of the Malfoy family and the anomaly in Harry Potter's scar, even if the young wizard was slow to react, he would probably have noticed something strange.
of course.
What he was most curious about now was why Malfoy had given him such a crystal ball. A detection tool that could reveal a Horcrux of Voldemort's was definitely a betrayal to Voldemort.
"What Malfoy?"
Harry Potter covered his scars with both hands.
He felt not only that the scar was burning, but his brain itself seemed to be scalding hot. This feeling, even worse than a high fever, made the eleven-year-old boy quite panicked.
Can't compare.
He cared more about what Ian had said earlier.
"Ian, you said this crystal ball is related to my scar? Is it related to that unnamed demon who killed my parents and murdered so many people?" Harry Potter shook his drowsy head vigorously, his expression immediately becoming serious when his family's massacre was mentioned.
Having always lived in the Muggle world, Harry Potter knew nothing of the chaos that had once plagued the wizarding world. He only knew that his parents had died at the hands of the person who had given him this scar.
Although many people praised him as the boy who survived the ordeal and sang praises for defeating the evil dark wizard, he only remembered some fragmented images.
It was a scene where everything was bathed in green light.
To put it bluntly...
He didn't even know what his enemy looked like. That's why, when Ian mentioned his enemy, Harry Potter immediately looked up at Ian.
"That's not a demon, just a... mortal being." Ian's response was to correct Harry's choice of words; he quite liked some of the phrasing used by the younger version of Dumbledore.
"Could you tell me more information?"
His eyes were filled with longing for the past.
"Of course, no problem. But I think we should first investigate what this crystal ball is trying to reveal..." Just as Ian was trying to prioritize things for Harry Potter.
Suddenly, beads of blood with a rusty smell seeped from the crystal ball in his hand. The crystal ball continued to burn in his palm, but this was not unbearable for the young wizard.
Harry Potter, whose forehead looks like it's about to burst into flames, is completely different.
"ah!!"
Blood droplets are dripping from the crystal ball.
at the same time.
Harry Potter's eyes also suddenly changed.
His originally clear, emerald-green pupils instantly transformed into snake-like vertical pupils.
It was ferocious and terrifying.
It seemed unusually strange.
Stop
Harry forced out a breathy sound through his teeth, and black slime seeped from his scar.
"It's roaring...it's furious..."
Harry Potter, who was constantly screaming in pain, let out an ambiguous shout. Then, he clutched his head with both hands, his face contorted in agony, and collapsed to the ground, rolling around frantically.
It felt like my brain was about to explode.
The Savior groaned in pain.
"Harry! Are you alright?" Ian was also startled by Harry Potter's sudden reaction. He quickly took out a bottle of potion and squatted down to feed Harry Potter the potion.
The pain was so intense that Harry Potter was rolling around on the ground. Ian took out his wand and used a spell to fix Harry Potter, who was spinning and rolling further and further away on the ground, in place.
"What...is this?"
Harry Potter's stray hairs were stuck to his scars by sweat.
He clenched his teeth and pounded his head with both hands, his expression one of extreme pain. When he met Ian's gaze, the vertical pupils in his eyes shone even brighter.
"It's my special potion, the Ancestor's Pleasure Soup," Ian explained, while forcefully prying open Harry Potter's jaw, which he probably couldn't even close when he was about to be assaulted.
"Coo coo coo~"
After Ian forcefully poured an entire bottle of potion into Harry Potter's mouth, the effect was immediate. Harry Potter, who had previously seemed on the verge of death, instantly calmed down.
"It seems to be working..."
Harry Potter was soaked to the bone and extremely weak. Perhaps only he knew how terrifying the feeling of his head about to explode had been.
The savior's fingers dug deep into the flesh of his own head.
At this moment, blood was dripping rapidly from both cheeks.
"Of course, all the potions I produce are top-quality potions." Ian looked at the crystal ball in his hand again, and the color emitted by the crystal ball turned into a faint white light once more.
He became increasingly certain of his suspicions.
"Can you teach me? I'm afraid I really need this magical potion." Harry Potter was worried that he might suddenly develop a similar illness in the future.
"I'm afraid not, Harry. The ingredients for this potion are all contraband. You can't control it." Ian wasn't being stingy; he just felt that the Savior shouldn't be led astray by him.
The wizarding world doesn't need the Nine Gates.
"Is that so... alright..." Harry Potter was a student at Slytherin House, and he had already heard a glimpse of Ian's "lawlessness" from his classmates.
Ask yourself.
Someone like him, without any connections, probably wouldn't dare to concoct any illegal drugs. After all, the prestige of being a half-blood of seven surnames is something a mere Potter like him can't compare to.
Children without parents tend to mature early.
Harry Potter clearly understood that in the world of business, influence and connections matter, and that just because others can do something doesn't mean everyone can.
"Can I buy a few more bottles with Galleons to keep on hand?" It has to be said that after weighing the costs of breaking the law, Harry Potter felt that the risk of purchasing this potion was much lower.
He may be lacking love.
But it has no shortage of Galleons.
"This isn't about Galleons or not; it's about whether you need to come with me to see Dumbledore. It's better to address the root cause than just the symptoms. We need to find a way to resolve the problem you're facing."
Ian unusually declined the opportunity to earn Galleons.
He wasn't without sense of propriety.
Judging from Harry Potter's situation, some things may have exceeded his "prophetic" judgment, most likely due to the butterfly effect caused by the premature destruction of many Voldemort Horcruxes.
"What hidden danger... do I need to go see the headmaster? Is my condition that serious?" Harry Potter felt increasingly uneasy after seeing Ian's serious expression.
"Do you remember the whispered scream you just made?" Ian didn't dare overestimate Harry Potter's courage, so he chose to avoid talking about the fact that Harry Potter himself was a Horcrux.
Moreover, he was more concerned about Harry Potter's earlier screams and whispers.
"Um... I don't remember..."
Harry Potter's eyes, now back to normal, revealed an extremely bewildered expression. He seemed to be trying hard to recall, and he raised his hand to cover his still-bleeding head.
"I think I saw some images, a prisoner with chains around his neck, he had no face... his eyes were filled with emotionless coldness and madness."
Harry Potter's face was tense as he struggled to recall his memories—suddenly, his body began to tremble, and his expression became visibly panicked.
"No! He's getting closer to me!"
"He's going to tear me apart!"
Harry Potter's eyes flickered a few times, but they didn't revert to their previous vertical pupils. Like a light bulb with low battery, they flickered briefly before going out again.
It must be said that Ian's drug is indeed a targeted drug.
"Alright, alright, stop thinking about it."
Seeing Harry Potter's pale face and his hands and legs flailing about, Ian immediately tried to stop him from touching the thing in his mind.
"oh."
The Savior agreed readily.
however.
He nodded.
Instead, he simply rolled his eyes and chose to shut down the computer on the spot.
He fainted right in front of Ian.
"..."
Fortunately, the young wizard quickly caught Harry Potter on the back of the head with his foot.
"I didn't tell you to stop thinking so completely," Ian said helplessly. He glanced at the clock on the wall; there were still about twenty minutes before class.
"Wake up?"
Having failed to achieve the desired therapeutic effect by slapping Harry Potter twice, Ian could only use the Levitation Charm to pick him up and take off on his long legs towards the infirmary.
He left the corner where the two were talking.
In the outside corridor.
Since it was almost time for class, there were many young wizards coming and going. They were all drawn to Ian's entourage, and one after another, the young wizards showed expressions of astonishment.
no way.
Who can blame them when Harry Potter's face, which he had scratched himself, was still bleeding?
This is how we've come this far.
Blood continued to drip onto the ground.
It looks incredibly frightening.
"Isn't that our savior?"
"He looks like he's been beaten to death. What kind of attack did he suffer?"
"Hiss! Don't you understand yet! Look who's carrying Harry Potter! The new Dark Lord is declaring his authority and invincibility..."
……
Discussion among classmates was inevitable.
however.
For some comments that Ian didn't want to hear, he simply raised his hand and cast a "Tongue-Locking and Throat-Sealing Curse" on those rumor-mongers, temporarily depriving them of their ability to fabricate stories about themselves.
"I was just trying to help! I was rescuing my classmate!" he explained. Some people chose to believe him, while others nodded frantically, their survival instincts clearly visible.
"..."
Ian ignored the group of drama queens.
He took Harry Potter straight to the school infirmary.
"Oh God! By Merlin! What terrible thing has happened!"
When Ian magically carried the unconscious Harry to the school hospital, the curtains of the twelve hospital beds moved without wind, and Madam Pomfrey, who was preparing potions, paused for a beat when she saw who it was.
"I'm not quite sure either."
Ian shrugged and handed Harry Potter to Madam Pomfrey.
"It seems to be due to excessive mental strain."
He made his own judgment—Mrs. Pomfrey also quickly checked Harry Potter's condition and nodded in approval of Ian's diagnosis.
Upon seeing this, the young wizard immediately offered a treatment plan.
"A mental stabilizing potion might work, but I think a soul stabilizing potion might be more suitable for him." He already had a clear understanding of Harry Potter's situation.
"What you said is fine, but..." Madam Pomfrey carried Harry Potter onto the hospital bed, feeding him his potion while looking up at the young wizard.
"What he needs more is a potion that keeps him away from danger and has no magic." Madam Pomfrey looked at Ian with a strange gaze, a mixture of astonishment and inexplicable annoyance. "Mr. Prince, can you explain why Mr. Potter's magical energy fluctuations are so lifeless, as if kissed by Satan?"
obviously.
Madam Pomfrey realized that Harry Potter had drunk some kind of potion that suppressed his magic.
"It was to save him; he was in a state where he looked like he was about to explode." Ian shrugged helplessly, feeling it wasn't appropriate to tell Madam Pomfrey about Voldemort.
"Magic out of control?"
Fortunately, Ms. Pomfrey, who was frowning, offered a reasonable excuse.
"possible?"
Ian gave an ambiguous answer.
Ms. Pomfrey didn't seem to care about that. She began cleaning the wounds of the unconscious Harry Potter. "Poor child, he's in so much pain that he's dug his face out of shape."
"Can you tell me where you met Mr. Potter, and what accident happened to Mr. Potter at that time?" She believed that Harry Potter's abnormality could not be without reason.
"Perhaps they stumbled upon something unclean while out for a night stroll." Ian's eyes narrowed slightly, his tone ambiguous. "You know, castles always harbor dangerous secrets."
After he finished speaking...
I looked up at the time again.
"I have to go to class, Harry's in your care." Ian didn't wait for Madam Pomfrey's reply and jogged away from the infirmary. As the infirmary door closed behind him, the flickering torches on the stone walls of the corridor stretched Ian's shadow into a long, distorted giant. Two younger students hurried past, carrying their "Potions and Magic" textbook.
Their whispers were especially clear under the vaulted ceiling.
"Potter was definitely killed by him!"
"He's trying to establish his authority! To tell us that there is no savior in this world!"
"Dumbledore won't punish him; he might even help him cover up the truth. After all, he has a phoenix!"
……
The two students clearly did not see Ian, who was standing not far to the side.
They were hurrying along with their heads down.
Ian couldn't help but look back at them several times after what they said—and just then, a trembling Slytherin freshman bumped into him like a startled Sniff.
"I'm so sorry, Senior Prince!"
As the new student retreated, he knocked over the spear in the armored man's hand. The sound of metal hitting the ground echoed in the empty corridor. He didn't care about cleaning up the mess behind him and looked at Ian with a terrified expression.
"I didn't mean to! Please! Don't kill me!"
obviously.
The Slytherin freshman was terrified. His reaction wasn't without reason; he had entered the house most afraid of Ian, and the rumors that Ian had killed the Savior were constantly being circulated in new versions.
"Just be more careful when you walk next time. Do I look that scary?" Ian reached out and straightened the boy's crooked tie, his fingertips brushing against the tie clip inlaid with emeralds.
The freshman was trembling all over, and his legs felt weak.
"..."
Seeing this, Ian could only sigh and gesture for the junior to leave quickly—and so, the kid who bumped into Ian immediately took off running away.
"What do I do! What do I do! I think I've offended Prince!" He grabbed his roommate's arm, his voice trembling with tears, as he reached the classroom door.
"Huh? Then you're dead!"
His roommate gave him an answer he didn't want to hear.
"No!"
The little wizard's desperate cry.
And at that very moment.
"You look very scared?"
The voice of Miss Beaver rang out.
"Fear dilates the pupils by thirty-seven percent." Hermione Granger appeared at the entrance carrying her textbooks. Slytherin freshmen would have classes at the same time as Gryffindor freshmen.
"You should give him dragon's blood ink." Hermione knelt down to help him pick up his textbooks. "Page 214 of *The Weakness of Humans: The Secret of Prince* mentions that Ian tends to have a good impression of people who give him gifts."
She finally got to read the book she had been longing for.
however.
This potentially useful suggestion did not receive any thanks.
"What do mud people know about pureblood traditions!"
The new student suddenly pushed Hermione away.
A twisted pride burst forth from his reddened eyes. The word struck the air like a curse, and many young wizards in the corridor stopped and looked in his direction.
"Who is uttering such evil and despicable slanderous words!"
The one who reacted the most was Miss Greengrass, who happened to be passing by.
She felt as if she had been struck by lightning when she heard this word.
Her light golden hair was standing on end because of her anger.
"Damn it! Who are you trying to kill?!"
Daphne rushed straight to the freshman, grabbed his clothes and shook him wildly, roaring at him like a provoked tigress.
"You need to apologize! You absolutely must apologize to this woman!"
She seemed to have transformed into a messenger of justice.
The freshmen were caught off guard.
"Miss Greengrass, but... isn't this our consensus?" He came from a branch of a pure-blood family and his understanding of the wizarding world was not up-to-date.
"Who agrees with you! Slander! This is blatant slander!" Daphne's voice was incredibly loud, and she even turned to look at Hermione, the girl Ian had brought to the school.
"Don't listen to his nonsense! The Greengrass family sponsors twenty-three Muggle research projects! My father even rejected a proposal to ban Muggle admissions in Wizengamor just last week!"
She seemed eager to prove her family's "ideology of equality".
His tone was excited.
They wished they could pull out a megaphone and announce this to everyone else.
……
Miss Daphne was being paranoid.
He thought Hermione was someone Ian had sent to test him.
When PTSD flares up.
the other side.
Instead of going to class, the young wizard went to the abandoned washroom, opened the hidden door with Parsleyan, and crawled down without hesitation.
This is in conjunction with the nighttime screams that the young wizards had mentioned earlier.
Ian had a premonition.
then.
To verify my suspicions.
He did not go to the underground palace.
Instead, they went to the Chamber of Secrets in Slytherin.
In the dim candlelight, he slowly stepped into this space forgotten by time. The air in the secret chamber was heavy and oppressive, as if even breathing became difficult. Ancient runes were carved on the surrounding stone walls, shimmering with a faint green light in the dimness, as if some unknown power was surging within them.
Suddenly, a pungent smell of blood hit his nostrils, causing Ian to frown. He followed the smell directly to its source.
"Oh no! My darling!"
The little wizard let out a desperate, mournful cry.
All I saw was...
Just as he had a bad feeling, a huge basilisk lay silently in the center of the secret chamber, its body stiff and its eyes closed, never to open again.
This basilisk was once the guardian of the secret chamber.
Its scales shimmered with a cold light in the sunlight.
The scales were covered in completely dried blood, and the body was covered in wounds, clearly indicating that it had been through a fierce battle. What was most heartbreaking was that the basilisk's body had shriveled up.
It was a sight where flesh and blood had been devoured. Moreover, Ian seemed to sense an indescribable emptiness, as if the basilisk's soul had also been completely consumed by some force.
last night.
Something significant did indeed happen here.