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HP: The Necromancer

One ordinary day at the supermarket, a cashier was surprised when a peculiarly dressed man appeared at his door. The man inquired about why he hadn't responded to a letter from the Office for the Prohibition of Abuse of Magic. ------- Note: Other than translation, everything belongs to the original author

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53 Chs

Troll

Time passed quickly in the practice of necromancy. The weather was getting colder, and the fireplaces lit throughout the castle were getting hotter and hotter. Filch often held Mrs. Norris in the corner of the corridor, and proudly caught several students who put flames in jars to keep warm. .

By the time Anthony came to his senses, Halloween had passed.

"No one admits it!" Professor Flitwick said sharply, "I asked everyone and no one admitted that they did it!"

Anthony sat in front of the fireplace in the faculty room and watched a group of angry professors march in.

He did understand recently what "Necromancers are similar to dark creatures" meant. As he gained understanding and proficiency in undead magic, his body temperature gradually dropped and his perception of temperature became less sensitive. Once a student asked him if he was cold, and he realized that he was wearing summer clothes, so he had to tell them that he was practicing the heat preservation spell.

"They dare not admit it!" Professor Bubbaji said angrily, "This is too much! Think about it, if Potter and Weasley had not gone there, and Granger was left alone..."

"Two hundred points deducted." Professor Sprout said, and even she was unhappy.

"No, expel. I will expel the perpetrator." Professor McGonagall said with a straight face, anger burning in her eyes, "I will definitely do it. This is not a prank that a junior can do, I am quite sure. This person He is old enough to have enough magical power and fully understands what he is doing, but he still does it! Even - not even the Weasley brothers can do such a bad thing!"

Anthony asked doubtfully: "What are you talking about?"

"Ah, Professor Anthony, long time no see. I didn't notice you were here." Professor Flitwick said, jumping on the chair nearest him, "We were talking about the troll. All the students said they didn't Know where the trolls come from."

"What troll?"

"By the way, Henry wasn't there that day!" Professor Sprout said. After she gave Anthony homemade cookies, she cared about him a few more times, and then they started calling each other by their Christian names. "On Halloween, a man appeared in the underground classroom. Troll. That stupid big guy was running rampant there, smashing everything he could... He almost smashed Granger," she said with lingering fear.

Anthony thought about it. He happened to have a brilliant idea that day and wanted to test whether he could control his necrotic limbs, so he asked the elf to deliver dinner to the office instead of going to the auditorium to eat.

"Is Granger okay?" he asked worriedly.

"It's okay, Potter and Weasley saved her." Professor McGonagall said, "That stupid girl told me that she thought she could defeat the troll...just like I couldn't see that she was lying! Anyway, now She, Potter and Weasley are friends." She shook her head, "I hope she can make Potter and Weasley pay more attention to their studies."

"It's also a good thing. Let me tell you why Potter and Weasley's papers suddenly improved so much this week." Professor Sprout said.

"I will not encourage students to plagiarize, Pomona." Professor McGonagall said seriously, "If you find any clues, you can punish them. Even as a friend, Miss Granger should not tolerate this kind of academic misconduct. Behavior."

"No, I think they asked Granger to help read the paper, maybe with some help from literature research at most." Professor Sprout assured her, "Relax, Minerva. They are first-year students."

"A first-year kid who knocked down a giant monster," said Professor McGonagall.

Professor Flitwick interjected enthusiastically: "They did a great job and cooperated very well! Mr. Weasley told me that they used the levitation spell I taught that day. Minerva, your students have a strong sense of combat. "

Professor McGonagall smiled for the first time today: "This is not my fault. Filius, I attribute it to Charms and Defense Against the Dark Arts."

"By the way, how about Professor Quirrell? Was he there that day?" Anthony asked curiously. It had been a long time since he'd seen Professor Quirrell.

"Quirinas discovered the troll." Professor Sprout shook his head. "He immediately came up and told everyone. The poor man ran until his face turned pale, but he still managed to inform everyone. I hope he will tell everyone now never mind."

Professor McGonagall said: "He's fine. Severus went to see him and he told me that nothing was wrong. But he really doesn't like Professor Quirrell." She cleared her throat and imitated, "No There is no need to worry about Quirrell's health, Minerva, he just wants to have some fun for everyone on Halloween. He admires the underground troll very much and thinks everyone should go and see it. It's really frustrating that you can't understand the humor in it. sad."

Professor Flitwick smiled: "Oh, I'm not surprised! I mean, you all know which subject he most wants to be a professor of."

Everyone laughed. Snape's obsession with the Defense Against the Dark Arts teaching position has always been an unspoken anecdote among professors.

"I haven't seen a troll yet," Anthony said.

"Well, you don't want to see it, Henry," Professor Sprout said. "That thing is just like the illustration in the textbook, only it looks bigger. But the stench... God, I can't understand that. The book that said it smelled like dragon manure. It was terrible."

"I haven't seen many giant monsters." Professor Flitwick said thoughtfully, "I'm curious who is bigger, it or the giant."

"Trolls, I guess." Professor McGonagall said, "The few we have seen can only be considered small mountain trolls. Forest trolls are a little bigger than mountain trolls."

Anthony asked curiously: "What is the average height of the gaints?"

"I can't tell. I don't have any idea of ​​tall people." Professor Flitwick said, nonchalantly gesturing at his height. "There are always ten feet."

"I'd say twelve feet," said Professor McGonagall. "Not too small for a human."

Anthony was fascinated for a moment.

Until now, he had been experimenting with frogs, mice, and chickens—all of which he could ask house elves to provide—but he had never tried any real magical creatures. According to records, corpses containing magic, especially black magic, are particularly suitable for undead magic. They can almost use their arms like their bodies and their fingers like their arms.

And trolls, such big magical creatures, corpses, souls - if trolls can also have souls - bones, flesh and blood... what great materials they would be for casting spells. If he could also find a giant monster, pull out its bones cleanly, and recall its soul from the dead... If he could use this rough-skinned big guy to test those sharp undead magic...

wrong.

Anthony pressed his forehead and was horrified. He is not a murderer. These were not his thoughts, this was the bloodthirsty whisper of the undead magic within him.

He never thought that undead magic could distort him like this. But in retrospect, there is not a single page in that notebook that does not calmly record the tragic deaths of various experimental subjects. And he was addicted to the pleasure of controlling everything, forgetting what he was like.