Hoare helplessly followed the na Helena's tail pointed to.
Peter Pettigrew.
Hoare quickly enlarged that part of the map. Peter Pettigrew was running very fast, and the positions marked on the map looked like—"like he's in the pipes."
How do you catch soone in the pipes?
"Hiss~"
Hoare turned his gaze aside.
Who at Hogwarts knows all the secret chambers and passages best?
Who can move freely without being noticed by the portraits?
Only the thousand-year-old Helena, who was so bored she could only play with her own tail in bed.
"Helena, are you bored? Want to play a ga?" Hoare picked up Helena and placed her in his palm.
Helena nodded repeatedly, her tiny eyes revealing a pitiful look.
"Shall we play a ga of snakes catching mice?"
Hoare said, drawing Scabbers' likeness in mid-air with his wand.
"Ha~" Helena was very interested.
Although Hoare couldn't understand Parseltongue, he could see the excitent in Helena's eyes, like the thrill of seeing prey.
"Go."
As soon as Hoare finished speaking, Helena had already darted away.
No doubt about it, being a thousand-year-old Basilisk, she was incredibly efficient.
Hoare watched Helena's na dart across the Marauder's Map, rapidly closing in on Peter Pettigrew.
A few minutes later, the two nas completely overlapped, then began moving swiftly together, clearly heading towards Slytherin, Hoare's dormitory.
Hoare tossed the Marauder's Map into a drawer, then went to the common room to see if there were any props he could use for entertainnt.
Chair, rope, candle, whip? Axe? Mace?
Hoare curiously held up a shackle, a question mark in his mind.
Does Slytherin play this openly?
Hoare eventually gave up on those strange props.
Helena appeared in the common room, carrying Peter Pettigrew in her mouth, ready to head to the dormitory when Hoare called her.
"Helena," Hoare shouted, "drop it here."
Hoare pointed to the small table in front of him.
Helena obediently slithered over and dropped the barely conscious Scabbers from her mouth.
"Long ti no see, Scabbers?" Hoare sneered, skillfully tying Scabbers up like a dumpling.
Just as Scabbers was about to scream, Hoare stuffed a slly sock into his mouth. "A house-elf's rag, a gift for you." Hoare had just asked for it, and the elf thought Hoare was trying to steal its job and cried for a while.
Helena slithered around the common room, found it boring, and then climbed up Hoare's body to his head, hissing at Scabbers.
After tying up Scabbers, Hoare pointed his wand at Scabbers' legs, using a very small amount of magic to cast a "Reducto."
A destined wand is indeed better than a second-hand one, allowing for more precise use of magic.
Hoare finally understood why even soone as powerful as Dumbledore preferred using a wand.
Using a wand allows magic to be drawn into threads, controlling the spell's damage.
But wandless magic is the complete opposite, enhancing damage but unable to reduce it.
The "Reducto" Hoare cast was sothing he had always wanted to try, controlling the magic to a very low level.
After casting it, he saw Scabbers trembling, his furry body breaking out in a cold sweat, tears streaming from his beady eyes.
Hoare leaned in to listen closely, hearing a continuous cracking sound from Scabbers' legs.
When the sound almost stopped, Hoare touched it.
Sure enough, it was already shattered inside.
Scabbers bit down on sothing, letting out a series of shrill screams.
Hoare raised an eyebrow and sneered.
Helena, watching from atop Hoare's head, was very pleased, drooling with excitent.
Hoare handed her over to the house-elf for dinner.
The energy from the Philosopher's Stone had been successfully extracted, thanks to Salazar Slytherin's books.
They contained a wealth of knowledge lost over the ages, like a vast galaxy, providing imnse benefit.
Due to ti constraints, Hoare could only imprint the contents of the books he needed into his mind.
A formation for storing and extracting magic.
At this mont, the Philosopher's Stone was in the dormitory, completing its final transformation.
Hoare returned to the dormitory, bringing the now-empty shell of the Philosopher's Stone to the common room.
Each house's common room has a fireplace.
In fact, the fireplaces between the houses are interconnected, as long as you know the other fireplace's password.
Hoare thought, isn't that like a phone number? As long as you dial it correctly, you can connect to the other fireplace (phone).
Unfortunately, fireplaces can only transmit ssages one way, not for conversations.
Luckily, Hoare knew Dumbledore's and Snape's fireplace numbers.
After all, they were blatantly posted next to the fireplace, impossible for Hoare to miss.
"Angelica" connected to Snape's fireplace, "Headmaster! Help!"
"Sour Blast" connected to Dumbledore's fireplace, "Headmaster! Help!"
After confirming they saw his ssage, Hoare coughed twice, quickly putting on a terrified expression, waiting by the fireplace.
And the shattered Scabbers lay on a nearby table, covered by a large rag, with the Philosopher's Stone beside him.
Sure enough, shortly after, two flas erged from the common room fireplace, revealing Headmaster Dumbledore and Headmaster Snape.
"You better have a reason! Or you'll be cleaning the public bathrooms for the rest of your school years!" Snape's whole body slled of potions.
Hoare guessed that with Snape's love for potions, he was probably experinting with that snake skin before coming.
"Henry, is there sothing you need?" Dumbledore, wearing a starry robe and a pointed nightcap, looked ready for bed.
"Headmaster, Headmaster. I accidentally obtained a map that shows people's nas. Earlier, I was bored in the common room and decided to take a look."
Hoare took out the Marauder's Map, opened it, and placed it in front of them.
"I saw this." After speaking, Hoare shivered as if he had seen sothing terrifying.
Snape's pupils dilated when he saw the map.
Dumbledore's gaze drifted for a mont, as if reminiscing, before he snapped back to reality and took the Marauder's Map from Hoare.
To access the premium content, go to [ ].
Dumbledore skillfully enlarged the space they were in.
In the space they occupied, several nas appeared, showing Albus Dumbledore, Severus Snape, Henry William, and a na that should have been dead for many years, Peter Pettigrew.
Snape frowned deeply.
"Dumbledore—" Snape's face turned very unpleasant.
Dumbledore was no better, looking at the map's marked location.
Not far away, on a table covered with a rag, sothing was clearly underneath, but definitely not a person.
"I was so scared, I just covered it up," Hoare explained.
It?
Snape and Dumbledore exchanged glances, both realizing Hoare's description wasn't ant for a person.
Dumbledore approached and lifted the rag, revealing what was underneath.
"The Philosopher's Stone!?" Dumbledore exclaid.
"Rat!?" Snape's voice was filled with disgust, as rats reminded him of a certain group.
Reviews
All reviews (0)