A Certain Magical Hogwarts

Chapter 1088 The Trial of Death

Harry closed his eyes and plunged into the river, already feeling death approaching him.

At the last moment, Harry felt lightheaded, and a force pulled him back to shore.

Tom appeared out of nowhere, grabbed Harry by the collar, and pulled him backward.

The collar tightened around Harry's neck, a suffocating sensation washing over him, before he was violently thrown to the ground, rolling around several times.

"You want to commit suicide?" Tom looked at him, shook his head, and smiled.

"Harry, I told you, your life and death are now in my hands. I won't let you die, and neither can Death take you away."

"I want you dead, and Merlin can't be saved!"

Harry glared at Tom with hatred.

If it weren't for this person, his life wouldn't have been so bitter, and he could be happily celebrating his seventeenth birthday with his parents at home.

He roared and charged forward, raising his leg to deliver a fatal kick to Tom's groin.

But Tom waved his wand and cast a spell, sending Harry flying backward and crashing heavily to the ground.

Harry got up again, only to be struck by the black rainbow once more, sending him flying several meters away.

The black rainbow followed him like a shadow, as if it were enveloping Harry, causing him to stumble and fall to the ground repeatedly.

After this happened seven or eight times, Harry collapsed to the ground, covered in blood.

Hand-to-hand combat is certainly no match for magic, even though William once said that "a wand is faster than a fist within seven steps."

But Harry definitely can't do it.

It's not that he doesn't want to use magic, it's that he can't.

Not to mention that I don't have a wand and I don't know how to cast spells without a wand... even if I did have a wand, it wouldn't be very effective.

As soon as they entered this awful place, Harry found an opportunity to ambush Tom.

Tom took the original wand, but he secretly kept a spare one on him.

I bought this at Cedric's wand shop, just like William did.

They thought the sneak attack would succeed, but to their surprise, after only releasing a few "Expelliarmus" spells, Harry felt as if all his magic had been drained away.

Magic here is less sustained and less lethal than a fist.

Tom walked over step by step, his shoes making a distinctive clattering sound on the ground.

He stood in front of Harry, knelt down, and whispered:

"Harry, this is just a small punishment for you. If you dare to commit suicide again, I will make you wish you were dead."

Harry looked up with difficulty at the handsome man who seemed like a devil.

He had heard William say that Tom would forever remain sixteen years old, both in terms of strength and magic.

Logically speaking, his magic power is about the same as Tom's, so why is the other able to use so much magic in this environment?

But he can't?

Tom seemed to know what Harry was thinking and chuckled, "You're curious why I'm unaffected?"

Tom looked down at him and explained:

"It's not the magic power that's the problem, it's the magic system."

In the underworld, wizards' magic is restricted, and even a simple spell can consume a large amount of magic power.

But the prehistoric mysteries are different; only they can unleash the true power of a wizard.

So don't even think about running away anymore. No matter where you run, I'll catch you.

"Prehistoric... profound meaning?" Harry repeated the obscure word.

"You wouldn't understand even if I told you. Only Stark would understand, but unfortunately he's not here," Tom said with a hint of regret.

"If William were here, you would be dead!" Harry spat out a mouthful of blood, which landed on Tom's face.

Tom said with a grim face, "Yes, I'm no match for William. He killed me not long ago, but there won't be a next time."

"He discovered the prehistoric secrets of the obelisk, but did not obtain them. From then on, he and I were no longer on the same level."

Tom said confidently:

"I have mastered many prehistoric secrets. When we meet again, I will show him what cruelty is."

Harry wanted to say something sarcastic, but blood kept gushing from his mouth, and his breathing gradually weakened.

Tom glanced at him, then took out a small bottle containing a healing potion.

Harry kept his lips tightly shut and refused to take it.

Tom looked at the young wizard whose face was already stained with blood and chuckled:

"I told you, if I don't let you die, you won't die!"

The potion floated in the air and was poured into Harry's mouth.

A cool liquid was forced into Harry's mouth, and a chill ran through him from head to toe, and the pain lessened.

After pausing to drink slowly several times, he felt his injuries were healing.

But this made him feel even more humiliated.

"Have something to eat. I worked hard to catch this morning." Tom tossed over a slimy creature.

It was a blood-red worm with a very strange shape, dark spots on its body, and a spike-like head and tail.

Harry felt disgusted, thinking it was an earthworm.

"This thing is a magical creature from the underworld called a death worm. It can spray a highly corrosive, toxic liquid, and its eyes can also emit a strong electric current," Tom explained.

"I prefer to call it the Canadian electric eel. Don't be afraid, haha~ it's as thin as a toothpick and harmless."

"Open your mouth," Tom said softly.

Harry glared at him with deep disgust.

Tom raised his wand again, and the death worm burrowed between his lips.

Harry felt like he was going to throw up when the sticky, soft substance touched his tongue.

Tom suddenly looked up at the sky.

The weather has been hot lately, reaching over 30 degrees Celsius.

At this moment, a heavy snow began to fall, the temperature plummeted, and the snow froze around them, turning them into strangely shaped snowballs.

"It's time to go." Tom touched the emerald on his chest, and with the injured Harry, continued walking forward.

Tom was used to such extreme weather.

They had been traveling for many days in the underworld, encountering extreme weather conditions such as high temperatures, sandstorms, earthquakes, and lightning strikes.

It's just snowing right now.

In the story of the three brothers, they built a bridge so that they could safely cross the river...

The river is dangerous, and only by building a bridge can one see Death, which is a metaphor for completing the trial of Death.

This is the trial.

The heavy snow continued unabated. The snow was knee-deep, and the thick ice shell covered their calves like white greaves, making their steps slow and unsteady.

Harry walked for three difficult days, during which he attempted suicide five times and ran away seven times, but all attempts failed.

"I'm tired, so tired. I can't walk anymore, I can't walk anymore." He collapsed into the snow with a thud.

"I have to stop, it's so painful. I'm cold and tired, I want to sleep... even just a little while by the fire... let me die..."

Harry was completely desperate.

Tom stood in the knee-deep snow, watching him silently as he lost hope and his body grew colder.

The snow was falling heavily, a vast expanse of pure white. And the road ahead seemed endless, as if it would never reach the place where death resided.

"Harry, get up!" Tom whispered in Harry's ear, commanding:

"If you die, I will find your friends and kill them one by one."

And that Weasley girl named Ginny, I know you like her.

I will transform into your appearance and seduce her; that girl must be... very voluptuous.

Have you forgotten? Your parents died at my hands. Don't you want revenge?

You piece of trash, Dumbledore's good boy, coward!

If you want to kill me, then hate me! Hate me!

Survive the ugly!

My stupid Harry!!

Upon hearing Tom's words, Harry's body burned like fire, hatred filled his chest, and rage raged in his mind.

His hope was rekindled, a flame of revenge.

Harry mustered all his strength, stood up, and roared:

"I'm going to kill you! Kill you!!"

Just then, the snow in the sky suddenly stopped.

The scene before us has also changed completely; it is no longer an endless expanse of white snow, but a vast expanse of white mist.

Not far away, a turbulent river blocked the way, its surging waves creating waves.

Tom smiled, and the River Styx finally appeared.

He looked at Harry and smiled, "Thank you for your help, Harry. You helped me complete the trial."

The true trials of death are never those extreme weather events.

Rather, it is psychological and physiological despair...

Of the three wizards who came here, one must fall into utter despair and then find hope within that despair before he can meet Death.

This is what it means to find a way out of a desperate situation.

Even if you have a sliver of hope and firmly believe that you will find Death, you will not succeed.

They would just keep walking along the road, never reaching the end... and eventually die in despair.

Therefore, the more detailed one's knowledge of this place, the more difficult it becomes to find Death.

They always firmly believed that they would find Death.

Those who know nothing are more likely to despair.

Tom tormented Harry relentlessly, driving him to despair, and then, finally, through hatred, gave him... hope.

Thus, the "existence" hidden in the illusion was revealed.

……

……

(End of this chapter)