svetikya Chapter 191 Scarface Attacks the Dark Lord
Chapter 191 Scarface Attacks the Dark Lord
Chapter 192 (4k long chapter) Scarface attacks the Black Demon King
Picking up where we left off, Moody, with his single eye wide open like a Vajra in a temple, sternly questioned Harry about how he had learned the Unforgivable Curse.
This question was so serious that Ron and Hermione's hearts pounded wildly, like drums.
It should be noted that Harry's curse came about in a strange way, as it was related to the theft of the Time-Turner within the Ministry of Magic. If investigated further, it would inevitably involve the siblings of the Boxers.
If word gets out, the Department of Magic might come to investigate and order an Auror raid.
To everyone's surprise, Harry remained unfazed and replied with a cupped hand, "If the professor has any doubts, he may go and explain to Professor Dumbledore himself."
These words, seemingly gentle yet containing immense power, are actually quite subtle.
Moody, having been blocked by this, could only let out a rough groan, rubbed his chin with his calloused hand, and uttered a few words.
"Alright, Mr. Potter, I'll find some time to talk to my old friend about this."
"I dare say that even Death Eaters might not know such an ancient Imperius Curse."
"Class is now in session!"
Just as he was about to begin, Harry raised his arm and shouted, "Wait! I have another question to ask!"
"Just now I cast a spell, but why couldn't I detect the professor's soul? Are you alive or dead, you scoundrel!"
"I think I've made myself clear enough," Moody said impatiently. "The Imperius Curse isn't without its counters!"
"If you suspect I'm some kind of soulless living dead, I wouldn't mind using the Imperius Curse on me again!"
"After all, I only have one anti-curse restriction on me! I believe you'll be able to see clearly this time whether my soul is truly inside me or not!"
Moody spoke frankly, while Harry was unconventional.
With a flick of his wrist, the magic wand was already in his hand.
"Since the professor is so willing, I will give it another try!"
Seeing the two about to fight again, Lockhart turned pale with fright and rushed forward, grabbing Harry's arm and racking his brains to try and dissuade him.
"Harry, Harry! Don't do this."
"It's a bit too inappropriate to recite the Unforgivable Curse to the professor on the first day of class..."
"At least... at least let's wait until the second period!"
As the saying goes, "When the city gates catch fire, the fish in the moat suffer." Just now, Harry fought with that insane Moody and taught him a lesson with a lot of magical energy.
If these two were to fight again now, I fear my own life would be in danger.
Moreover, with a large group of students sitting below the stage, if three or five were injured and sent to the school hospital, Moody would at worst be stripped of his teaching position and forced to retire. Meanwhile, Lockhart's reputation, built up over half a lifetime, would be completely ruined in an instant.
Lockhart pleaded earnestly, his voice trembling with sorrow as he nearly knelt down. Seeing his state, Harry put away his wand.
"Fine! Fine! Today I'll give the professor face."
After speaking, he lifted the corner of his robe and returned to his seat, appearing completely calm and composed.
Lockhart, feeling as if he had been granted a pardon, turned around and went to appease the madman. After saying many conciliatory things, he finally restored order to the classroom.
Moody cleared the phlegm from his throat, his demonic eyes sweeping around the room before he said gruffly:
"Alright, let's get back to the main topic and continue the lesson."
"But Harry just cast the Imperius Curse on me, and it gave me a little idea... It made me think of a better way to teach!"
Listening to Moody's eloquent speech, Ron moved slightly to Harry's side and lowered his voice, saying:
"Harry, do you really believe Moody is alright?"
"Brother, there's no need to ask the obvious. If this fellow isn't up to something, then my journey through this world has been in vain."
"But I don't know why his soul has vanished without a trace; it's truly strange!"
As the two were whispering amongst themselves, Moody suddenly shouted from the stage.
"So, who's willing to be the first volunteer and experience what the Imperius Curse feels like!"
This shout startled the entire room into complete silence.
Upon hearing this, Harry's blue eyes narrowed sharply; Lockhart, standing beside him, felt his sun throb and his internal organs churning.
The students all looked at each other, like rice stalks being battered by rain, and not one of them raised their head to respond.
Moody continued, "I only have one year to teach you how to combat dark magic more quickly, and this method is perfect..."
"So let's not waste our time! Anyone want to volunteer?"
The hall remained deathly silent, with only the rustling of the wind outside the window.
Lockhart raised his hand to knead the dough, inwardly groaning.
That old madman! What on earth does he want to do?!
Being a teaching assistant is so tough!
He gritted his teeth, took a deep breath, and stepped forward, saying, "Alastor, I—"
"Ah! You're right, Lockhart, I almost forgot you're a teaching assistant!"
"Let's demonstrate it for the children!"
The words were still ringing in his ears when a calloused, scarred hand reached out and grabbed Lockhart's collar.
Without a word, he was forced onto the table, but when the wand was raised high, its cold light was chilling, which startled Lockhart so much that he almost drowned, and he cried out in panic:
"Wait! Alastor! That's not what I meant! I—Harry!"
Before the call had even faded, Harry's face had already turned ashen.
It should be noted that even when beating a dog, one must consider the true God. This Moody is trying to make fun of Lockhart without distinguishing right from wrong. How can Harry tolerate this?
Just as he was about to slam his fist on the table and stand up, he suddenly felt a gentle breeze brushing against his side.
A slender green figure gracefully rose, like a jade tree standing tall in the spring breeze, and proclaimed in a clear voice:
"Let me do it, Professor Moody."
All eyes in the room were fixed on Hermione Granger.
Moody's single eye showed a hint of surprise, then he clapped his hands in admiration.
"Very good! Good girl!"
"I haven't seen a wizard as courageous as you in a long time!"
Harry frowned, then secretly grabbed Hermione's wrist and pulled her down with tremendous force.
He hissed, "Big sister, don't be reckless! There's something fishy about Moody; he's probably not a good person. This isn't the time to play games."
Hermione grasped Harry's palm with her own, her slender fingers gently pinching it three times. She blinked and smiled.
"But aren't you still here with me?"
Having said that, she strode to the front of the hall. She grabbed Lockhart by the front and with a shake, flung him aside.
He stopped abruptly, his brown-ochre eyes fixed on Moody.
"I'm ready, Professor Moody."
Upon hearing Hermione's words, Harry gripped the hilt of his knife tightly; Ron, too, held his willow wand horizontally across his chest.
But then Moody's strange eyes darted around, and he raised the wand high above his head.
"The soul leaves the body!"
As soon as the spell was cast, Hermione's eyes glazed over, as if her soul had left her body, and she stared blankly at the window.
But a nameless thought surged through her chest, urging her to climb onto the windowsill and jump down, hoping to end her life in a tragic way, like jade shattering and pearls sinking, like a fragrant flower fading away.
These wicked thoughts, like wild grass in spring, grew wildly in her heart. Even though Hermione tried to suppress them repeatedly, she was still succumbing to them.
First, he hurried a few steps toward the window, then suddenly stopped and retreated, repeating this several times, just like a puppet on strings, unable to control his own body.
Nassim, who was standing nearby and knew his stuff, exclaimed, "It's the moonwalk!"
Before the sound had even faded, Hermione suddenly tripped and fell to the ground with a thud, her knee hitting the bluestone slab.
The excruciating pain swept over her, and Hermione shuddered. The fog in her eyes cleared, and her mind returned to clarity.
Upon seeing this, Moody repeatedly exclaimed, "Excellent!"
"Look at you all... she withstood the Imperishable Curse!"
"This means that if anyone tries to use the Imperius Curse again in the future—"
At this point, Moody was momentarily speechless, and Hermione struggled to her feet to continue, "Hermione Granger."
"That's right, Miss Granger. He'll find that Miss Granger has withstood his Unforgivable Curse with incredible willpower!"
"Five points for Gryffindor!"
Ron crossed his arms over his chest, his brows furrowed, and couldn't help but say to Harry:
"What exactly is wrong with her?"
"Hermione has been acting strange ever since classes started."
Harry remained silent, his eyes fixed firmly on Hermione.
Moody first cast several healing spells at Hermione's knees, then turned and glared at the students below the stage.
"Who's next? I have no interest in flipping through the roll and calling out names one by one!"
"Professor Moody, I'd also like to try the Crucifixion."
Moody suddenly turned his head, his real and fake eyes gleaming like a hawk, staring intently at Hermione.
But then she took off her long robe and threw it on the ground, revealing a moon-white shirt.
Her two plain sleeves were rolled up to her elbows, revealing her forearms, as delicate as lotus roots. Her jade-like face was frosty and snowy, and a hint of madness flickered between her brows. Her crimson lips remained unspoken, her silver teeth gleaming, and her black hair danced wildly, casting jagged shadows. She was truly a female demon descended to earth, a reincarnation of a female devil!
"I think I can last about five seconds."
The moment Hermione uttered those words, the classroom fell so quiet you could hear a pin drop.
Lockhart, in the corner, clutched his chest with both hands, as if afraid his heart would leap out of his chest.
Moody's face turned ashen as he scrutinized Hermione from head to toe. His demonic eyes darted around rapidly, like windmills.
Just as the two locked eyes, a bell rang loudly outside the hall, signaling the end of the school day.
"I once knew a wizard who was the worst masochist I've ever met," Moody suddenly said, staring intently at Hermione.
"To cut small incisions in his skin with a knife, or to let lightning run through his body... was a more wonderful experience for him than drinking Felix Felicis."
Upon hearing this, the students who were about to slip away seemed to have taken root in their feet.
They all bent over and hunched over to pack their untouched schoolbags, secretly pricking up their ears to make sure they didn't miss a single crucial detail.
"On the night of his tenth wedding anniversary, his wife decided to do something special... Yes, his wife used the Cruciatus Curse."
"When I arrived at the scene, he was half dead... in fact, it was no different from being dead."
"He spent a full week in the hospital at St. Mungo, and the first thing he did after recovering was to divorce his wife and then sue her for attempted murder."
Upon hearing Moody's words, the students were all thoroughly satisfied, as if they had drunk fine wine. They scattered like birds and beasts, hurriedly rushing out the door.
Moody staggered over to Hermione, slapped her hard on the shoulder, and yelled in a hoarse voice:
"If you think you have a high tolerance for pain, then I suggest you cut yourself dozens of times first!"
Having said that, without waiting for a reply, he tucked his wand behind his waist and stormed off.
Seeing that the classroom was becoming increasingly empty, Harry quickly stepped in front of Hermione and asked suspiciously:
"What's wrong with you lately, elder sister? Why are you doing all these self-destructive things for no reason? Even the ascetic monks of the Western Regions aren't as heartless as you, elder sister, in taking your own life!"
Hermione put on her robe, then suddenly smiled. "Well... it's normal for a young girl in the throes of first love to have some worries."
"You can't talk to guys about this kind of thing."
He quickly slung his backpack over his shoulder and headed straight for the divination class.
Ron clicked his tongue, his face still showing disbelief. "Romantic? You believe that, Harry?"
Harry remained silent, thinking to himself: "My eldest sister is usually the most composed person. Her unusual behavior today must mean she's encountered someone or experienced something."
It doesn't seem like it was because I was taught to cast that mound of human heads that I was so disturbed.
Before the start of the school year, my eldest sister clearly lived with me, and nothing seemed to have changed. I suppose this change must have occurred after the start of the school year.
Harry held his breath and focused intently, carefully reviewing the events of the past few days in his mind. In just a few breaths, he understood everything.
It should be noted that due to the changes this semester, apart from that mad-eyed man, only Grindelwald remains.
The scarred man already had some guesses in his mind. When he finally had a day off, he took out the Marauder's Map and followed the map to the underground classroom.
The passageway was deep and winding. After walking for a short while, they arrived at the door of Dringeringer's bedroom.
Although Dumbledore had said that the monster was no longer harmful, Harry was still worried.
Before he even enrolled, Hagrid had said that Hogwarts was the safest place in the world. Who would have thought that in these three years, Voldemort would repeatedly infiltrate it?
Thinking about this incident only heightened my suspicions even further.
He immediately donned his military uniform, removed his black gloves, tightened his arm guards, drew the ring knife from his waist, and held a sinister magic wand in his hand.
But as he stood at the door, about to knock, he suddenly heard a creak, and the two sandalwood doors opened by themselves.
Grindelwald, dressed in a brocade suit, stood in the light and shadow with a beaming smile, and said:
"Ah, Harry, hello—"
"A spirit that soars to the heavens!"
A white rainbow shot out from the tip of Harry's staff, just like a silver bottle shattering.
Grindelwald neither flinched nor begged for mercy; instead, he simply closed his eyes!
The curse struck him, and he was instantly sent flying backward like a kite with a broken string. With a loud crash, he slammed into the rosewood bookshelf, causing blood to spurt from his mouth.
"puff!"
Grindelwald coughed up another mouthful of blood, staining his clothes, but managed a trembling smile on his face.
"You... are much more ruthless than I imagined..."
Immediately afterwards, several loud "pop" sounds were heard all around, and suddenly several clouds of white smoke rose from the ground, and three or five house-elves leaped out.
They greeted Harry first, then each took a bandage and medicine bottle, some applying medicine, others chanting spells, their actions were orderly and well-organized, clearly pre-arranged.
Harry frowned, then glanced at the table beside him and saw that it was already full of plump chickens, tender ducks, fresh fish and delicious meat, a complete array of dishes. He immediately understood.
After the house-elf's intervention, Grindelwald's injuries had healed by about 70-80%.
He struggled to his feet, his heterochromatic eyes gleaming.
"Don't mind me, Harry, you know I'm a prophet."
"I've been waiting for you for a long time."
(End of this chapter)