Hogwarts: Don't call me the Staff Maker

Chapter 824 Half a Victory

Few wizards can withstand the pain of having their souls torn apart. Even Dumbledore, hailed as the strongest white wizard, or Alastor Moody, the legendary Auror who filled half of Azkaban, were left with deep psychological trauma from this pain.

In Siron's memory, only one wizard had ever withstood this pain—Voldemort, who even split his soul seven times.

Of course, the price was that he no longer looked like a normal person. In terms of appearance and everything else, he had completely become a monster.

This was undoubtedly lucky for the Death Eaters who came to attack Hogwarts, because Shiron gave them an experience that Voldemort had only ever had.

Unfortunately, none of these Death Eaters could withstand the pain of their souls being torn apart. The moment the unicorn's soul passed through their bodies, they immediately fainted.

But the unicorn soul also has its flaws; it cannot actively distinguish between Death Eaters and its own people—or rather, all wizards look the same to it.

Moreover, after fighting for so long, the people on Hogwarts' side had all been tainted with some traces of dark magic, making them indistinguishable when mixed together.

Xilun simply ignored friend and foe, allowing the unicorn's soul to pass through everyone equally.

For the next two minutes, dull thuds of heavy objects hitting the ground could be heard throughout the castle. Most of these were Death Eaters, but there were also some professors and students under the influence of dark magic.

Fortunately, most of the dark magic marks on the professors were only superficial and were easily dispelled when the unicorns passed by.

Among them was Professor McGonagall, who was completely bewildered at the moment, her mouth agape as she stared at the suddenly quiet Hogwarts Castle, her eyes widening.

After an unknown amount of time, someone finally reacted. Alastor Moody waved his hand a few times, and wands on the ground flew up one after another, disappearing into an empty wooden barrel.

"Brilliant, Ollivander, truly brilliant!" he shouted in his hoarse voice. "Merlin's beard, I never imagined this magic could be used like this!"

He looked somewhat annoyed.

As a seasoned Auror, his knowledge of spells far surpasses that of ordinary wizards; he once even subdued three dark wizards with an illumination charm.

But when he was at the school hospital, he only thought of the unicorn soul as a special kind of healing magic, and never imagined it could be used in this way.

"It's not that you didn't think of it—" Siren said softly, looking thoughtfully at the unicorn spirit that had returned to his side, "but rather that we shouldn't have done it that way back then."

"What did you say?" Moody didn't understand.

What do you mean by "shouldn't have done it then"? Shouldn't this kind of magic be used as early as possible?

"No, it's nothing." Xilun shook his head, offering no explanation.

Most people around were immersed in the immense joy of their sudden victory and didn't notice anything unusual about Siron. Except for Slughorn, who had just come out of the underground classroom.

While everyone was cleaning up the battlefield, he walked up to Xilun, first looking him up and down, then leaning in to take a deep sniff.

"Ah, you drank that too, didn't you?" he said with certainty. "And it was my creation."

"Yes, I drank Felix Felicis." Siren nodded. "It was a reward from my first Potions class in sixth grade."

"Yes, yes, I remember it very clearly." Slughorn smiled happily, his eyes narrowing into slits.

"I knew then that you were no ordinary wizard, that you were destined for greatness. But I never imagined—Merlin!" He clicked his tongue, trembling all over, "You ended the Second Wizarding War; you were the true savior!"

Siren shook his head. "Forget about a savior, and talking about ending the war is premature, after all, Voldemort is still alive."

Upon hearing Voldemort's name, Slughorn's smile faded somewhat.

"Yeah, that person whose name can't even be mentioned—" He muttered something under his breath, but Xilun didn't hear it.

"Let's change the subject. How many times have you drunk Felix Felicis?"

"The first time," Siren said. "I was going to give it to my grandfather, but he poured it straight into my mouth."

"Of course, of course, that's only human nature, isn't it?" Slughorn said with a smile. "So, how do you feel? What do you think?"

"Excellent, it's never been this good, it's almost too good to be true—"

"Scared?" Slughorn looked at Siron. "I guess that's what you're thinking."

Xilun nodded.

"It seems like everything I do is right. I don't need to judge. As long as I want to do something, everything happens at the most appropriate time."

Slughorn laughed, not as exaggeratedly as before, but even more sincerely.

"You're remarkable, Mr. Ollivander. After all, very few wizards realize that Felix Felicis isn't as perfect as people imagine it to be when they use it for the first time."

"I have seen too many wizards become obsessed with this false luck and head towards their destruction through overconfidence."

"Of course, sometimes, a little Felix Felicis can be quite beneficial." He leaned close to Siron's ear and whispered, "I took a sip before the war. By Merlin's grace, I was nearly struck by the Killing Curse several times, but I always escaped unscathed."

"It's gone."

"So, the Octopod was also affected by Felix Felicis that time?" Siren asked, as if something had occurred to him.

"Ah, that time it wasn't, or rather, it wasn't entirely thanks to Felix Felicis." Slughorn shook his head and explained, "Actually, it wasn't me who drove away the giant spider, but this one."

He took out a small bottle, and even with the bottle cap plugged, Xilun could still faintly smell a pungent, fishy odor.

"What is this?"

"Perfume extracted from the scales of the basilisk," Slughorn said, his voice trembling with excitement.

"Minerva blew up Severus Snape's private storeroom, which contained a basilisk body that was a full ten feet long."

"Oh, you probably don't know what a basilisk is. I can only say that it is one of the greatest magical creations, which has been missing for over a thousand years. I can't believe I can still see such a complete basilisk body."

Seeing Slughorn gesturing wildly, Xiren merely gave a polite smirk.

He certainly knew what a basilisk was, but he hadn't expected Professor McGonagall to come up with such a method. Making basilisk into perfume and applying it to his body—no wonder those giant spiders had run away so fast earlier.

It is common knowledge that anyone who makes direct eye contact with the basilisk will be instantly killed. The eight-eyed giant spider has many eyes that cannot be closed. In other words, they are powerless against the basilisk.

Therefore, the giant spider's fear of the basilisk is deeply ingrained; it will flee immediately if it senses even the slightest hint of its presence.