Hogwarts Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor Peter

Chapter 152 White Lies
Peter and Constantine came to a cemetery. Today was Sunday, and the ethereal singing of the choir could be faintly heard from the church in the distance.

"I buried the black cat here, my mother's grave, in a place where nobody disturbs." Konstantin squatted in front of a mossy, half-weathered tombstone, digging with his fingers into the muddy ground .

He only dug a few times before stopping, turning his head to look behind him.

"Are you there?" he said to the unseen being, but there was no answer except for the sound of rain.

Constantine hit his umbrella on his mother's tombstone, and Peter stood by, watching him touch the blurred letters on his mother's tombstone in the rain.

"I killed my mother when I was born, and cursed you with black magic. You have suffered all your life because of me, but I abandoned you because of my childhood hatred." He faced the tombstone and said, "Can you forgive me?" ?”

Still no one answered.

"Do you still hate magic so much? I left home to pursue magic, only to find that I was the mudblood most despised by pure-blood wizards. I studied hard to become a silent man, and finally I was expelled from the Department of Mysteries. What a shameless person I am Son!"

A burst of dense raindrops hit his face, and Peter felt that his robe was already a little damp. The strong cold wind blew past the tombstones and crosses, whining.

Konstantin began to dig the dirt with his fingers, and after an unknown amount of time, when his golden hair was all wet from the rain and stuck to his forehead, he finally dug out a glass jar.

A dead cat was suspended in the liquid in the jar, one of its paws had been chopped off and its eyes had turned a cloudy milky white like a necromancer.

Konstantin looked at the glass jar for a long time, and put it on the grass in front of the grave. Peter watched him stand up, collect the dead branches and leaves and withered flowers in the cemetery, and pile them in a small pile in front of the tombstone.

He picked up the jar and said to it: "This is coming to an end, all I can give you is a decent funeral, so... please rest in peace."

As he spoke, he twisted open the jar and poured out the cat's carcass and formalin. He buried the cat's carcass under the dead flowers and drew his wand.

"I haven't seen my mother. What kind of person is she? You are worried about me taking her life. I think you must love her very much. If she is still alive, what will she think of me?" He said to The dead branch pile said, "Please bring my love to her in the other world, okay?"

He touched the rain-soaked dead branches and leaves with his wand, and they smoldered in the rain, emitting a puff of black smoke. He struck a few more times with his wand, took the umbrella himself, and propped it on top of the fire.

The flames began to burn, and soon the dead branches were consumed, but Peter and Constantine both saw the hideous dead cat still lying on the scorched grass, staring fiercely into its milky white eyes.

Peter stepped forward and gently pulled Constantine away: "Ordinary fire is ineffective against it..." He still didn't say the last part of the sentence——After Constantine's father died, the cat's corpse had already been destroyed. It has a special property similar to Horcruxes.

He bent down and lit the cat corpse with the "dragon's breath" on the stick handle. In the flames, the cat corpse suddenly straightened its upper body. With a piercing howl, a burst of flames shot into the sky, burning up the umbrella on the tombstone. The man whispered something in the fire...

Konstantin fell into the mud panting and wiped his face with his hands, not knowing whether he was wiping off the rain or something else.

"My father...is he free? What did he say when he left?"

Peter said solemnly: "He said...he loves you because you are the only son born to the woman he loves the most. He wants you to live a good life and stop being an asshole in the future."

"Okay... hell, the pants are all stained, can you help me?" Constantine held out his hand, and Peter pulled him back. He turned around and slapped the mud with a playful smile. His father's spirit no longer affected him. , but Peter clearly saw several big tears rolling down from his blue eyes, and the smile was just a poor disguise.

Later that afternoon, when Peter returned to his office, Snake was still meditating under the influence of the blue spell, and the honey steak had a big bulge in its stomach.

"Any new achievements in the afternoon?" Peter asked casually as he hung the rain-soaked cloak on the hanger.

"I have further thought about the meaning of snake life..." Snake hissed.

"Very good, Professor Snake." Peter said with a smile, "I'll ask Dumbledore to give you a philosophy class after you think about it."

"Don't make fun of me, kid...I'm thinking about the meaning of forgiveness...Only the weak will forgive without boundaries...Just like Muggles and wizards...Muggles have killed countless wizards...Killed wizards to the corner... ...why should a wizard forgive a Muggle?"

"Interesting thinking, but unfortunately immature." Peter said, "The relationship between Muggles and wizards spans thousands of years. If you go back in history, you will find that both sides have been hurt by each other, so To act with vengeance is blind and foolish, and will inevitably lead to failure."

"Then what is the purpose?"

"Interests, only interests, eternal interests." Peter said indifferently.

Snake's nictitating membrane slowly opened and closed, and after a while, it said again: "I am also thinking about the relationship between good and evil today...for example, lies are evil...but why do white lies exist?"

"Good and evil are relative. There is no absolute good or absolute evil. Let's not talk about this. It would be great if you could be more kind to Muggle-born wizards."

"So you asked me to meditate... After all, it was to increase my goodwill towards Muggle-born wizards... But the more I think about those magic thieves, the more disgusting I feel..."

"Muggle-born wizards get their magic from themselves, and their ancestors have Squibs integrated into Muggle society, so there is no such thing as a 'magic thief' - by the way, you mentioned 'white lies'... "

"Yes, master... do you have any insights?"

"I just told a white lie. A friend asked me what his father's spirit said to him before he died. I told him that his father forgave him, but in fact, his father said Otherwise..."

"His father... said what?"

"His father said: 'Fuck you, I actually killed your bitch mother who was a witch'."

"I don't understand..." Snake said.

Peter sat down behind the desk and said softly, "Well, you're right if you don't understand. If I really told Stanley Constantine, he might never understand it for the rest of his life."

Ten minutes later, Kreacher showed up at the office with a reply from Draco for Peter.

The letter read: "Dobby is fine, we gave him a set of clothes, he is very obedient, please don't miss him."

Peter looked at the letter, and the contents of the letter were full of contradictions and irrationality.

Giving the house-elves a suit of clothing meant they would no longer need their services, so how could Dobby be "obedient" if he was already free?The last sentence "Please don't miss it" is also very suspicious, it is very likely that it is the "hint of taking advantage of loopholes" promised by Draco.

Peter threw the letter into the fire, knowing that Dobby had been imprisoned or even killed.

(End of this chapter)