My necromancer career begins at Hogwarts

Chapter 369 Voldemort and the Old Man

Morris conjured a floating stretcher, lifted Harry up, and quickly carried him to the school infirmary.

Mrs. Pomfrey was tidying up the medicine cabinet when she heard the noise, turned around, and her expression immediately changed.

She quickly walked over and helped Harry to the nearest bed.

After that, she checked Harry's pupils and pulse, then gently tapped Harry's temple with the tip of her wand, and finally breathed a sigh of relief.

Judging from this, the situation shouldn't be too serious.

"What's wrong with him?" Maurice asked.

Mrs. Pomfrey sat up straight, shook her head slightly, and said with certainty, "She's just asleep."

"This is the reaction when someone is asleep?" Maurice pointed at Harry with a strange expression.

At some point, Harry, lying in his hospital bed, frowned, and cold sweat began to bead on his forehead.

Mrs. Pomfrey said almost without hesitation, "My judgment is correct. But Potter didn't fall asleep naturally; he was induced by some external force, which is why he can't be woken up."

She turned to Maurice and asked, "Did he take a strong sleeping pill?"

Morris shook his head. "I don't know."

He was also completely baffled by Harry's condition and would probably have to wait until Harry woke up to find out.

"It seems he'll need at least a few hours of sleep," Mrs. Pomfrey said, her expression no longer as tense as before. "You can help look after him, and if there are any problems, remember to come to me immediately."

After she finished speaking, she turned and walked outside, drew the curtains, leaving Maurice alone by the bedside.

Morris sighed, pulled up a chair, and sat down, leaning back in it.

There have been quite a few unexpected events.

It seems there won't be time to discuss potions with Snape today.

He's now more interested in knowing what happened to Harry.

Meow~

Suddenly, a cat's meow was heard.

The canned food appeared at Maurice's feet at some point. It jumped onto the hospital bed, leaving a cat paw print on the sheet, and accidentally stepped on Harry's calf.

Harry didn't move an inch.

Morris reacted quickly, grabbing the can by the back of its neck and lifting it off the ground.

The canned food struggled in his hand for a moment, then wisely retracted its limbs and hung in mid-air.

"You'd better not let Mrs. Pomfrey find out; she doesn't like cats." Just as Morris finished speaking, footsteps sounded outside; Mrs. Pomfrey had probably returned.

The canned food vanished into thin air instantly.

It's an illusion technique.

"Your magic has become more and more powerful lately," Morris remarked.

The footsteps grew closer, and Madame Pomfrey lifted the curtain and entered, carrying a glass of dark liquid.

"When Potter wakes up, I'll feed him this." She walked to the bedside and placed the cup on the bedside table.

After saying that, she left again.

The can reappeared, its head held high, seemingly agreeing with Morris's earlier praise.

Then, it gently waved its right paw, and a set of wizard chess appeared on the sickbed.

"Meow!" the canned food meowed, its tone filled with obvious anticipation.

Morris glanced down at the chessboard, then at the can, his expression gradually becoming subtle: "You came to me just to find someone to play Wizard Chess with? Go away... Fine, I'll take the black pieces."

Since Harry won't wake up anytime soon, we might as well play a game with the canned food.

Incidentally, his Wizard Chess skills are also quite good.

So, the man and the cat began playing chess on the hospital bed.

About half an hour later, when the game on the chessboard had entered the endgame, Harry suddenly opened his eyes and sat up straight in bed.

Morris and the canned food were both startled.

Harry, panting heavily as if waking from a nightmare, looked around with terror in his eyes.

Morris reached out and pushed the nearly lost puzzle aside, looking up at Harry. "You're finally awake. What happened?"

Harry did not answer immediately.

He took a few deep breaths and, after calming down, said, "I just saw Voldemort's vision again."

Morris's eyebrows twitched slightly.

it is as expected.

"So that's why you fell into a coma?" Morris asked.

Harry nodded, wiping his forehead. "I don't know why, but this time the feeling was particularly strong, like I was forcibly dragged into Voldemort's head. I couldn't even control my body... It felt a bit like a dream. Luckily you found me, or I would have collapsed in the hallway."

Morris was curious to know what that feeling was like.

"So what did you see in Voldemort's mind?" he continued.

Harry frowned and pondered for a moment.

"It's strange," he said. "Voldemort is in a meadow full of flowers, everywhere you look. He's talking to an old man, and as for what they're talking about... I can't remember. Also, I think Voldemort knows I'm watching him... Yes, that must be it. I must tell Dumbledore about this!"

As he spoke, he rolled out of bed and hurriedly put on his shoes.

Morris wasn't in a hurry and continued, "What did the old man you saw look like? Were there any particularly distinctive features?"

"Um..

"...Harry stopped putting on his shoes, thought for a moment, "He was old, with little beard, and his face was full of wrinkles..."

"Describing it with words is always a bit abstract."

"Draw it down. Maybe it's someone I know," Maurice said, handing Harry the drawing board that could automatically draw the image in the user's mind. "I hope you still remember how to use it."

Harry put on his shoes, stood up, and took the drawing board and quill from Morris.

Soon, his hand was being guided by the quill pen.

About a minute later, Harry stopped what he was doing and handed the drawing board back to Maurice.

Morris glanced down and raised an eyebrow.

The portrait of the old man on the drawing board was not clear and was a bit blurry, but the outline of his facial features could still be barely made out.

This is a flaw in the drawing board magic—when the user's memory itself is unclear, the drawn image will also be blurry.

That makes perfect sense.

"That's all I remember," Harry said.

"That's enough."

Morris carefully examined the old man on the canvas. He felt that the old man looked familiar, but he couldn't quite place him.

But one thing is certain: he had definitely seen him somewhere before.

Harry glanced through the curtain to make sure Madam Pomfrey wasn't there, then straightened his clothes and said to Maurice, "I'm going to find Dumbledore now. Do you want to come with me?"

Morris shook his head. "I have something else to do. I'm going to look for information about this portrait. I feel like I've seen it somewhere before, so I need to investigate."