Hogwarts: Don't call me the Staff Maker

Chapter 826 Harry, who was 'killed'

When everyone left the castle, the battle on the training ground outside was already coming to an end.

Those war machines, giants over twenty feet tall, were all lying on the ground, held down by stone statues, with huge, sharp axes and greatswords pressed against their necks, looking like they could strike at any moment.

Although giants are generally known for their fascination with violence and simple-mindedness, this doesn't mean they are truly fearless. Faced with the current situation, the giants decisively chose to follow their hearts, lying quietly on the ground, waiting for Professor McGonagall to decide their fate.

From a distance, it looked like there were a dozen or so unsightly little hills on the playground.

But Professor McGonagall did not stop because of these giants. They would be punished, but not now.

Right opposite them, Voldemort and the remaining Death Eaters stood at the edge of the Forbidden Forest, looking at them with an arrogant and overbearing expression, as if a group of victors were waiting for them to bow down and submit.

To their left, less than ten feet away, Hagrid was holding the stiff Harry, trembling all over, large tears rolling down his cheeks and into his thick beard.

The crowd fell silent instantly.

"That's—Harry—" Fred rubbed his eyes in disbelief, his voice hoarse.

"No, it can't be—"

People seemed to have some terrible suspicion, but they were unwilling to believe it. The team, which had been so confident just moments before, was now eerily quiet, with not a single person able to utter a word.

"Bane!"

Suddenly, Hagrid roared at the Forbidden Forest behind him.

"Are you satisfied now? You didn't resist, you bunch of cowardly steeds, huh? Are you happy now? Harry Potter—dead, dead—"

[At this point, I hope readers will remember our domain name 1110 ...

"No!"

The piercing scream startled Celen. He had never expected Professor McGonagall to make such a sound. Her body suddenly trembled violently, and her face turned deathly pale.

"No!"

"No!"

"Harry! Harry!"

The crowd suddenly erupted in uproar. Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Neville, Fred, and George—their voices were even more shrill than Professor McGonagall's, as they shouted curses at the Death Eaters.

Harry Potter is dead?

Xiren's expression remained unchanged.

From the moment Harry chased the eight-eyed spider away from the castle to the moment he dealt with most of the Death Eaters, it took no more than half an hour in total.

Then Harry was killed?

"Sirlen, how are you feeling?" A deliberately lowered voice came from beside him.

Xiren turned his head and saw Slughorn had squeezed in from behind and was pressed tightly against his side.

"I don't feel anything special," Siron said truthfully.

"Aren't you sad?" Slughorn continued. "I remember you and Harry were very good friends, right? Don't you feel sad after seeing him killed?"

"I think I should," Celen thought for a moment, "but I'm not really sad right now—I just feel like it's unnecessary."

"Ah, me too, Siron, me too." Slughorn breathed a sigh of relief and continued, "I think Harry Potter isn't dead."

"Do you think he can fool Voldemort?" Siron asked.

"Of course not," Slughorn blurted out.

No one can deceive a wizard skilled in Legilimency, and in Slughorn's view, Voldemort was the best at Legilimency.

"Nevertheless, I still stand by my opinion," Slughorn said. "In fact, a big reason why I would agree to let Dumbledore return to teach at Hogwarts is Harry Potter."

“I know, and almost all the students know,” Siron said. “It’s no secret at Hogwarts that Potions professors like to associate with high-profile students, and Harry Potter is the most high-profile one in the entire wizarding world.”

"Ah, of course, of course, I don't deny that." Slughorn seemed surprised by Xilen's comment, but readily admitted it anyway.

"Actually, I have something else to say." Slughorn raised his head and looked at the figure lying in Hagrid's arms amidst a chorus of curses.

"Dumbledore believes that Harry Potter will surely defeat the mysterious—well, Voldemort." He took a deep breath, changing his way of referring to Voldemort for the first time.

"That was the first time I had ever seen Dumbledore so confident in something. That unwavering conviction convinced me in an instant. So I agreed to return to Hogwarts."

Siren raised an eyebrow, waiting for Slughorn to continue.

"So, if Harry Potter really gets killed, I definitely won't stay here anymore—don't look at me like that, I promise I'm not the only one who thinks that way."

"The fact that FLORS didn't let me escape means that things haven't reached the point I thought. In addition, your reaction confirms my guess."

"Harry Potter is definitely still alive," Slughorn said with certainty. "Even if he has stopped breathing now, he will definitely return in another way that will leave everyone speechless."

This time, he didn't try to lower his voice; everyone around him could hear him. Unfortunately, no one believed him except for Xilun.

People just assumed that Slughorn, like most people, simply didn't want to believe it was true.

They also refused to believe that the savior would be killed before the real battle.

Meanwhile, Voldemort had already positioned himself as the victor, striding back and forth in front of Harry in front of all the teachers and students of Hogwarts, like a hunter showing off his spoils.

"See? Harry Potter is dead. He wasn't a savior. You people who were fooled by Dumbledore, now you know, he was nothing at all, just a little boy who relied on others to sacrifice themselves for him!"

"He beat you!" Ron shouted.

"It wasn't him who defeated me, it was my own magic!" Voldemort said, a smug smile on his face. "Oh, by the way, he was killed while trying to escape—"

"You're talking nonsense!"

Before Voldemort could finish speaking, someone suddenly ran out of the group, cursing, and charged at him.

It was Neville, and then he was disarmed and thrown heavily to the ground.

"Who is this?" Voldemort said, his tone as casual as if he had just blown away a speck of dust. "Who willingly tests the waters, showing everyone what happens when you continue to resist after defeat?"

The few surviving Death Eaters laughed gleefully.

Whether it was to create a dramatic atmosphere or not, a python over twenty feet long crawled up to Neville, waiting for Voldemort's command to devour him.

Among the crowd, Xilun's eyes lit up immediately, and he stared intently at the snake.

It's Nagini, Voldemort's last Horcrux. He had always kept her by his side for protection, but now she can move freely again.