I, Hogwarts Second Time Around.

Chapter 425 Let Me Do It

The azure magical meteor streaked through the air, its sharp whistling sound echoing in the darkness.

Three of them hit the heads of the three fairies with perfect accuracy.

Like a stone hitting an egg, the fairy's brains exploded on the ground in the next second.

Ron then controlled the last piece, speeding towards the still-living wizard.

I was the only one present who reacted.

He instinctively cast an Iron Armor Spell, successfully blocking the meteor for a moment.

But before he could figure out what was going on, his eyes were suddenly filled with a bright green light—the only thought that remained in his mind at the end of his life.

Then, the green light of the Killing Curse completely engulfed him.

Koyatl lowered his wand.

Then they quickly walked deeper into the cave.

Ron looked surprised, but Owen often used this trick, so he didn't say anything and quickly followed.

In just a few steps, the two arrived at the rows of wooden stakes.

To be honest, the dead bodies on the ground and the goblins with their brains splattered were horrifying enough.

But compared to the ones above, it's nothing.

Ron was even unsure whether he was having a nightmare or facing reality.

His thoughts completely stopped.

It's like a permanent glacier that has been frozen for millions of years.

He just stared blankly at the carved heretical gods, their bodies covered with dense, ancient runes that resembled scriptures.

For a fleeting moment, he could sense a strange familiarity emanating from the bizarre statue atop the wooden stake, which seemed to be countless tentacles, intertwined in a grotesque manner. Or perhaps from the tangled thicket of bushes.

A low murmur sounded in my ear.

His voice was neutral, indistinguishable between male and female. He was guided to want to speak, to shout, or to scream.

Ron felt he must have lost his mind.

Because he heard his own name in those murmurs.

"wake up."

Suddenly, a low growl was heard, accompanied by intense pain in his abdomen.

Ron's pupils started moving again.

"Ugh—" He clutched his stomach in pain and knelt down on the ground.

Tears and snot streamed down my face.

Koyatl threw that punch with all her might; it's hard to say whether she wasn't harboring malicious intent in it.

However, at such a critical juncture, she probably wouldn't have such thoughts.

perhaps?

In fact, after punching Ron, she herself was trembling and a severe headache caused her to collapse to the ground.

A mental invasion is launching a frenzied attack.

She had to quickly clear her mind and use her brain-blocking technique at full power to barely withstand the attack.

Normally she wouldn't be so vulnerable.

However, mental invasion is related to the wizard's current mental state. If the wizard is suddenly struck down and his will is at its lowest point, then the invasion will be easier.

What made her lose her composure was...

It was undoubtedly that wretched person under the wooden stake.

Koyater braced her hands against the ground, barely managing to support her upper body.

The immense fear caused her hands to tremble uncontrollably.

For quite a while, parts of her body still wouldn't obey her commands.

A stench—a thick, foul stench spread to the tip of her nose.

Subconsciously, Koyatl looked up again.

Oh my God!

With just one glance, she closed her eyes completely.

She saw four people.

She wasn't sure if the other person was still alive.

That's because each of their bodies had been subjected to varying degrees of beating, squeezing, twisting, and tearing.

What will truly kill them is a spore-like flower bud covered with countless tentacles.

The flower buds grow in the mouths of pitiful people.

Tiny, hair-like tentacles grow close to their faces, darting in or out of their eyes, noses, and ears.

There were too many—she couldn't tell them apart.

She only saw that those hair-like tentacles had already enveloped most of the flesh and blood body.

All that's left is—his face.

"What is this—what is this!" Ron exclaimed in a daze.

He then staggered to his feet.

"I don't know." Koyatel, supporting himself against the stalactite beside him, also stood up. "Perhaps—it's the rebirth ritual of the [Impersonator]? I've only seen it in a fragment in the Purifier's secret library."

"Reborn?" Ron's pupils constricted.

With Hermione as an eyewitness and the Daily Prophet's intense reporting during this period, it's impossible for him not to know what it was.

Mandy Broghe

Stephen Cohenford

Tracy Davis

Kevin Entwistle

He gripped the wand tightly, unable to calm down.

So Voldemort didn't kill them—he just wanted to possess their bodies and infiltrate Hogwarts?

That must be it!

This is the only possibility.

"We must kill them." Koyater gritted his teeth, his body tense. "We can't let the monsters successfully regenerate."

She took out her wand and aimed it at the poor man under the stake.

Just as she was about to cast the spell, a pair of hands suddenly interrupted her.

The girl paused for a moment.

He looked at the owner of that hand.

It's Ron.

The series of blows over the past few days have turned this once vibrant and energetic boy into someone with sallow skin and dull, lifeless eyes, resembling a dusty wax figure displayed in a basement.

At that moment, Ron was staring at her with a look he had never seen before, a look that had never appeared in his eyes before.

It was a gaze filled with anger, sorrow, and pain.

Fear, anxiety, and a murderous rage were hidden beneath his somber face.

The girl had seen that look before.

That was her in the past.

But later she became numb.

They learned to disguise themselves.

"This is my classmate."

A mad voice echoed in Ron's mind.

Countless cacophony of sounds erupted, like water being poured into boiling oil, causing the pot to explode.

An uncontrollable torrent broke through his inner defenses, engulfing him in endless pain and anger.

"let me."

That was an unquestionable voice, leaving Koyatl with absolutely no choice.

The latter had no intention of overstepping its bounds.

Instead, she stepped back behind the boy.

A wisp of smoke escaped from the tip of the wand.

"Safeguarding the town."

"Protect them all."

"Close your ears and plug your ears."

Three protective spells supported a transparent shield.

Wrap them up inside.

Inside, no matter what sound is made, it won't reach the outside.

Ron was unaware of Koyatl's exquisite assistance.

At this moment, he had almost no mental or rational mind left. It was already difficult enough for him to distinguish who was who from those faces covered by flower buds and those with only half of their faces exposed.

Everything else, including the eerie and bizarre buildings around him and the spell cast by Koyatl behind him, was too distant for him to grasp.

It's too far away.

I'm sorry.

A compassionate and empathetic spirit.

A primal desire for destruction.

An uncontrollable rage and karmic fire erupted at this moment.

A bright, eerie flame appeared at the tip of his wand.

The orange-red halo, like ripples in water, spread out instantly.

That's a fire spell.

But at this moment, the power of the spell was far greater than that of a normal fire spell.

Ron was unaware of these things.

His fiery red hair, illuminated by the blazing fire, seemed to come alive, its ends unfurling.

The rising heat blew his clothes.

Koyatl observed quietly, and for a fleeting moment, she felt a sense of familiarity.

The figure before me seemed to have merged with a statue from hundreds of years ago.

The fairies found it in another place.

They were filled with hatred and disdain for the statue.

Their complex emotions led them to completely destroy the statue the day after they discovered it.

But photos were taken.

Perhaps it was to show off, to flaunt their spoils.

She had seen that photo before.

She remembered that she had investigated the identity of the statue.

She is interested in anyone who can be hated by fairies.

What is that person's name?

It's been so long that she's forgotten some of it.

I think her name was Shani Weasley!

"boom!"

The enormous flames instantly engulfed the four unfortunate bodies, and from their mouths came a shrill, tragic, and painful scream belonging to multiple people—eight people in total.

The sound lingered, amplified in the vast cavern, and rang even louder in Ron's ears.

He staggered.

But he was still standing.

Her figure is breathtaking.

No one knows what he was going through at that time.

The only certainty is that this bizarre scene, the ever-present screams, will become his eternal nightmare.

—Flame—Flame—Flame

Flames burn and extinguish.

All that remains are the gruesome sight of the remains.

He collected the remains.

Koyatl provided some cloth bags.

He collected it and then put it into the girl's fanny pack.

—Something has to be put in the coffin when it's buried.

At least not in proper attire.

Koyatel removed many protective spells.

Ron remained silent, then suddenly his face turned fierce.

Because he saw two wizard corpses lying on the ground, their bodies completely unharmed.

He stared angrily at the corpses, seemingly pondering why they were intact.

Why are they completely unharmed?

They are clearly the bad guys.

They should have been the ones burned at the stake.

Anger and resentment erupted under the influence of some strange force, and he was almost about to raise his wand and cast a spell.

Just then, Koyatl stopped him.

"They are still useful," she said.

And she grabbed the boy's hand.

"You've been influenced—too deeply."

Everyone within this obelisk is affected by that damned, blasphemous power.

Anger and resentment, these soul-stirring emotions, can accelerate this process.

It accelerates the process of turning people into madmen.

Koyatl sighed; she had no more energy drinks or tonics in her pouch.

She did know the Happiness Spell, but that spell only pretended to make people happy; the sadness and anger in her heart could not be concealed.

The boy before me had reached the edge of the sea of ​​reason; one more step forward would lead to an endless abyss of madness.

At this point, it becomes a test of willpower.

In a daze—she even had the absurd thought that if Granger were here, he might have a better solution.

Faced with the boy who had suffered a severe blow, she couldn't even offer words of comfort. She had never comforted anyone before; she lacked that ability.

In the end, Koyatl could only do what he remembered—give Ron a hug.

————————————————————

Although the boy in front of me was on the verge of a breakdown, he still managed to maintain his rationality.

At least he wouldn't cast the killing curse on himself.

Ron looked at her with hatred.

The girl ignored her.

After the hug, she knelt down and plucked a few strands of hair from the two wizards' heads.

He then took out two bottles of magic potions from his pouch.

He glanced at the pocket watch wrapped around his left wrist.

The current time has been determined.

He then opened the bottle, added the hair into the potion, and handed a vial to Ron.

"Do you know what this is?" she asked.

"A compound decoction," Ron said menacingly.

"Correct answer." Koyatl looked at him. "Gryffindor should get ten points, right?"

She tried to ease the tension, but Ron didn't respond. He didn't even glance at her before swallowing all the potions in one gulp.

The girl sighed softly, held up the potion, and said, "May you be healthy."

Then he drank the compound decoction in his hand as well.

The next second, a wave of heat emanated from their abdomens, and their skin seemed to come alive, gaining its own independent consciousness.

They wriggled wildly, moving the fat and the organs.

It moves the five senses, causing them to change their positions.

Soon—this change became drastic, lasting about five or six seconds—the skin returned to its normal state.

The two of them had undergone a huge change in appearance.

A short, bald man with graying hair, a rat-like face, and a pointed nose.

He was missing a finger on his right index hand, and his other hand was gloved.

The other one became a lean, tall, gloomy man with a perpetually cold and cruel expression on his face.

He had a long scar on his face, which must have been caused by dark magic, otherwise it would have healed long ago.

"What bad luck," the bald, short man said.

Only then did he notice that one of the corpses on the ground actually belonged to Peter Pettigrew.

This traitor has once again escaped from the top battle in Azkaban.

It truly lives up to its name as a rat.

The other one—he didn't recognize it, but Harry did.

After the Battle of Azkaban, the Daily Prophet published photos of several dark wizards, including this one.

"Durant," Ron said.

Voldemort had a loyal dog.

The scar on his face was carved by Sirius Black. Harry often talked about it.

"Just remember who you are," Koyatl said grimly, his face bearing Durant's.

She waved her wand.

The ground beneath their feet suddenly came alive. It opened its dark, deep maw and swallowed the two corpses, along with the demon's corpse, in one gulp.

Then, by controlling several stones, the reborn form of the "Impersonator" was created.

After doing all this, he turned to look at Ron, who was disguised as Peter Pettigrew, and said, "If my childhood memories are not wrong, then the next area is the core area of ​​the obelisk."

She pointed to the archway in the distance.

"We may encounter countless Death Eaters, Purifiers, and Dementors; we'll have to adapt to whatever comes our way."

"Understood," Ron said expressionlessly.

It was terribly gloomy.

Seeing this, Koyatl fell silent. She hid her wand in the long sleeve of her right hand so that she could react quickly in case of any unexpected event.

Ron also hid his wand.

And so, the two fell silent and walked one after the other into the archway that resembled the mouth of an abyss.

Although the two of them had prepared for the worst.

But when they actually stepped into the archway and saw the abyss less than ten feet deep on either side of the stone bridge, they still couldn't help but feel a chill run down their spines.

In an instant, an overwhelming sense of fear entered their vision without warning. They saw countless skeletons piled up, stretching as far as the eye could see into the abyss below.

No—that's not skeleton, it's a dried corpse.

They were unwilling to admit it, but the flesh and blood, and even the souls, of those mummified corpses may have been devoured by some higher-level evil spirits or demons.

Although the mummified corpses had no wounds, their desperate expressions and their terrifying, abstract-painting screams were enough to shatter anyone's defenses.

The two, who were pretending, could only force themselves not to bow their heads.

But in the distance—the hellish court, glowing with a faint green light and filled with the wailing of countless ghosts—still stirred their hearts.

If possible, fainting would be the most merciful form of release.

At the end of the dimly lit stone bridge, countless dried human corpses were piled up densely.

They had become one with that huge cave island.

It resembles a dark painting by a certain artist, or—this is simply hell.

A terrifying hell that can devour people completely.

Whether it's Koyatl or Ron.

They all clenched their fists tightly.

It is about restraining the fear in one's heart, and also suppressing the unspeakable anger.

The steps I took became heavier and heavier.

Stone bridges lead to the island from all directions, from other places, and even from the collapsed parts of the obelisk.

There, countless Muggles, like lambs to the slaughter, were being numbly driven by about a hundred Dementors in the sky.

It forces them to go to hell.

Each life was like a maple tree in late autumn, with countless leaves falling in a gust of wind before them.

A feeling of sadness welled up within me.

But they knew they couldn't be exposed; they had more important things to do.

Why did you come here?

The island is dotted with countless ancient architectural ruins, suggesting that people may have lived here many years ago.

But as time has passed, even the granite buildings have partially crumbled into dust under the erosion of time, and the guardians have long since disappeared into history.

Bellatrix Lestrange walked over to the ruins of an early medieval building with a calm expression.

She opened her mouth to ask, her tone carrying an indescribable air of authority.

"Their reborn bodies need time to adapt, and they no longer need us." Koyatl, disguised as Durant, casually made up a lie in an attempt to deceive them.

"Is that so?" Bellatrix's gray eyes sized up the two people in front of her. "The ritual is about to end. If you are here to witness the master's ultimate ascension, then this is the perfect time."

She said something completely out of the blue.

It seemed to be a reminder of something.

Koyater's pupils constricted. Was the ritual about to end?

Time is running out.

"Alright—you two useless pieces of trash, get out of here and don't disturb the Dark Lord's leisure at this time." Bellatrix suddenly changed her expression, shouted angrily, and then turned and disappeared into those ancient buildings.

(End of this chapter)