The days of hanging out at Hogwarts

The night is getting darker and the fog is getting thicker.

Perhaps the air quality in the city of London is so bad. One moment at Hogwarts, the night sky in the remote mountainous area was still a bright scene of stars and moon. The next moment when I arrived at the abandoned playground in the suburbs of London, the sky here was... It was dark and gloomy, with clouds and haze mixed together, as if a cover of varying thicknesses shrouded the earth, sometimes covering the stars and moon, sometimes revealing a faint light.

The cold wind stirs up the mist, and the grass that grows undisturbed all year round welcomes late night visitors. The night dew wets the trousers, the grass blades rub against the soles of the shoes, and the footsteps are faint.

Harry followed the black-robed professor. Affected by the cold stimulation and complicated emotions, a thin layer of goosebumps appeared on his skin. Countless questions lingered in his mind and came to his lips, but he didn't know where to ask them. rise.

The steps in front stopped, and Harry looked through the faint moonlight. Snape had taken out a stone crucible. It was completely black and seemed to be brand new. There were no traces of use. It was larger than all the crucibles in the crucible shop. .

The last time Harry saw a cauldron like that was on the night of Voldemort's resurrection.

Stones, charcoal and a few strange sticks of firewood were piled on the soft grass. That kind of firewood was a magical material that appeared in the fourth grade textbook, but Harry couldn't remember it.

The crucible was placed on it, making a slight sound.

Then there was Snape's voice without any warmth: "You light the fire and do your best to keep the flame strong."

Harry silently stepped forward, took out his wand, lit the coals, and kept the fire going as instructed.

The blazing fire dispersed the cold mist, and a warm feeling came to his face. Harry's face turned red, and the reflection of the flames reflected in his lenses and eyes, blurring the focus of his vision. Snape poured various materials into the crucible, and the side walls collided. Making irregular sounds, fresh rue, dried amphora, bicorn horns...

Harry couldn't recognize the material behind it. He gave up on identifying the medicinal materials and his thoughts began to wander.

What materials are needed for the resurrection ceremony?

Will his blood be needed, or even his limbs like a Death Eater?

Anyway, Dumbledore can definitely make his hands and feet grow back, and he is willing to sacrifice his limbs as long as he can resurrect his parents.

"..."

Harry suddenly looked up at the busy Potions Professor and realized something was wrong.

Snape seemed to only talk about resurrecting his mother, but not his father.

Harry thought of the images in his dreams, or the images in Snape's memory, and suddenly felt that many things had been figured out. His eyebrows knitted together, which was a little hard to accept, even impossible to face.

"Keep the fire going." Snape's cold voice interrupted his thoughts.

Harry quickly lowered his head and activated his magic power to cause the flames to surge.

As some kind of clear and transparent medicine is filled into the crucible and heated continuously, a soft silver light fills the container. When it boils slightly, the silver light overflows, flowing like water, dripping along the outer wall of the crucible into the flame, and white steam rises. fog.

Snape moved his wand towards the liquid in the cauldron, seemingly stirring it. The liquid in the cauldron boiled completely, gurgling and bubbling, and splashed out with bright silver water splashes, as if studded with diamonds.

"Throw that textbook in."

"Huh?" Harry was a little surprised, but then he glanced at those eyes, and he still hurriedly followed the instructions.

With a pop, the already worn-out textbook was thrown into the boiling crucible. Bubbles rolled in, and the barely-glued pages immediately disintegrated and melted, leaving only a few black and blue ink stains. The ink stain was quickly diluted and dissipated, leaving no trace. .

The silvery liquid splashed out of the crucible, fell into the flames and raised large amounts of water vapor. The steam became thicker and thicker, gradually turning into mist and covering the surroundings. The vision became completely blurred, the stars and the moon converged in their brilliance, and the chimneys and chimneys in the distance were The nearby shrubs have only simplified outlines, like the silhouettes of monotonous oil paintings.

The silhouette is still gradually fading, getting lighter and lighter, becoming more and more transparent, until it disappears. The fog completely obscures the environment, and even the grass under the feet is gone. It is replaced by something pale, flat, formless but tangible. A kind of nothingness.

At this moment, some invisible boundary blurs.

What I saw in the bushes farther away from the crucible was another scene. The bright mist enveloped the crucible and the two people nearby. There were no hazy shadows, and even the magic vision was invisible, as if they were being dragged. Entered another dimension.

"This is..." Dumbledore watched this scene quietly, his blue eyes showing admiration, "the gap between life and death."

Loren was a little surprised: "Illusion?"

"Illusion..." Dumbledore repeated, savoring the meaning of the word, "What an appropriate name. The gap between life and death, the place where two worlds blend. Who can tell whether this is an illusion?"

Loren stared at the white mist, vaguely understanding the principle of the ritual, and whispered: "Lily Potter's does not have a Horcrux. Her soul left after death. If she wants to complete the resurrection ritual, she must be allowed to do so." The soul returns to the world, and the illusion is the transit point between life and death. "

There was bright white mist floating in Dumbledore's eyes, and he added slowly: "The shattering of the Horcrux is a death. With the help of the Horcrux, he opened the door to another world and welcomed the souls of the dead... It's really, beyond imagination. "

Deep in the white mist, Snape faced the crucible with splashing silver light, raised his wand, and said to the illusion of nothingness: "The wreckage left behind in the world will become a new carrier."

A small wisp of dust floated out from his sleeves and gently fell into the crucible. The silver-glowing liquid surface suddenly calmed down, the gurgling bubbles slowed down, and the liquid became viscous, as if it was nurturing something strange.

Harry stared at the crucible, his throat tightened.

The hard voice was shrouded in white mist, becoming ethereal and distant, and the content could not be heard clearly. The two people in the bushes could not see anything except the mist, and could only watch.

"..."

Then there was another voice that was almost chanting. This time, even Harry, who was close to him, could not hear it clearly. He only saw Snape finish chanting, take out a small glass bottle from his arms, and a wisp of silver-glowing memory was poured into the crucible, and then Snape walked towards him.

Harry felt uneasy and almost dared not look into Snape's eyes. Seeing him getting closer and closer, he finally gritted his teeth, rolled up his sleeves and stretched out his right hand.

"..."

Snape glanced at him indifferently, stretched out his wand to his temple, and only extracted a strand of silver memory from it, then turned around and threw the memory into the crucible.

So it was just a memory.

Harry silently retracted his arm, feeling that he was indeed a little embarrassed, but then he thought, the school had not taught the resurrection ceremony, how could he know that it was not necessary to have blood, flesh, bones, etc., it was all Snape's fault for not explaining it clearly.

Two strands of memory were thrown into the crucible, and a brighter silver light burst out. This time it was not limited to the liquid in the crucible, and the white mist covering this area was also shining with silver light. The mist surged and intertwined, and the looming picture emerged in the hazy mist.

It was Penny Evans's memory of her sister, and Harry Potter's memory of his mother...

It was also mixed with some of Snape's memories, which he instilled into Harry's mind through dreams and then extracted, containing magic that is difficult to describe in words.

Loren could only see the sudden change of the white fog. He couldn't see what happened inside, so he asked Dumbledore, "What are those?"

"Who knows..." Dumbledore said softly, "It's the memories of relatives, the longing of sons, the guilt of friends, it's the lighthouse and signpost that guides the dead back to the world, in general, it's love that contains extraordinary magic."

Loren didn't quite understand, he just vaguely felt that that kind of love had nothing to do with the love between men and women, it was more like a seed planted many years ago, with guilt as nourishment, sprouting and branching over the long years, and gradually growing into something beyond life.

The clouds in the sky moved quietly, the not-so-bright crescent moon darkened and brightened, the clouds on the ground surged and floated, and those silver lights shone everywhere, more dazzling than the moonlight.

Then, the wind blew.

The white mist surrounding the crucible quietly dissipated, but the glittering silver light remained in place. The grass leaves were bent and swayed, and the robes were blown and rustled. Snape looked up at the remaining silver light, his lips trembling slightly, and he made a faint call.

Under the gaze of everyone, the scattered silver light suddenly gathered and turned into a transparent figure of a young woman, with slightly curly red long hair draped over her shoulders and a pair of clear and bright green eyes, exactly like Harry's.

She blinked, revealing a slightly dazed look, as if she had no idea what was going on, but when she saw the pair of eyes that looked like hers, she froze in place.

Harry's eyes were hot, his lips moved, and he couldn't help but choke and call.

Lily wanted to respond to his call, but she opened her mouth but couldn't make a sound. The mother and son could only stare at each other.

Snape just stood there, staring at the soul shadow. He said nothing, moved his eyes away and continued to cast the spell.

The tip of the magic wand dipped into the boiling liquid. As a wisp of crystal red powder was added to the crucible, the silver-glowing liquid became more viscous, and more powerful magic fluctuations were brewing in it, but the silver light quickly converged. Everyone clearly felt a weak vitality throbbing in the crucible.

A suction force suddenly burst out from the crucible, covering the transparent soul shadow and dragging her into the crucible.

As the soul of the dead approached the crucible, another cold and damp magic power followed the magic power to Snape. The magic power seemed to hide the effect of decaying flesh and blood. The flesh and blood of the middle-aged man became old and withered, and the tight skin and flesh became loose. Visible wrinkles spread up along Snape's arm, and even his hair began to fade and mottle.

Lily finally realized what he was doing. She suddenly widened her eyes and wanted to break free from this traction, but she could only watch herself getting closer and closer to the crucible in vain. She opened her mouth and shouted at him, but the soul shadow could not make any sound, and finally could only shake her head helplessly at him.

The weakness of withered flesh gradually enveloped the whole body from the inside out. This talented potion master was not surprised. He quietly felt the feedback from his senses. His breathing, which he had never noticed before, began to become laborious. Wearing a long robe, he felt a chill in the night of late March. Even straightening his back became difficult.

His body became heavier and heavier, and Snape's expression was calm without any ripples.

This was planned a few years ago. Equivalent exchange is the unchanging law of alchemy, even Nicolas Flamel's Philosopher's Stone is no exception.

If someone wants to be reborn from death, someone else will bear that death.

From being strangers to Lily because of a misunderstanding in his student days, to leaking the prophecy after graduation, which led to the destruction of the Potter couple's family, he had long been unable to tell whether his feelings for Lily were admiration or guilt. The two emotions were entangled together and became a nightmare he didn't want to recall.

If it could reduce a little sin, death would be just a trivial price.

Lily's soul had already come to Snape's side and was about to fall completely into the crucible. He stared straight into those green eyes, waiting for the completion of the ceremony with some expectation, but his face suddenly condensed.

A bright red light flew over and landed directly on the crucible filled with medicine, causing the crucible to shatter into pieces.

The viscous liquid immediately overflowed and extinguished the blazing flames. The powerful magic power stirred up shock waves that swept through the grass and made the bushes sway.

The resurrection ceremony was completely interrupted, and the transparent soul breathed a sigh of relief. Before he could say anything, he glanced at the bushes not far away, smiled at Snape, and quietly disappeared from the spot.

Snape stared at the mess on the ground, dazed in a daze. His body was replenished with flesh and blood, and the wrinkles gradually disappeared, leaving only gray and mottled hair, covering the drooping face.

A group of figures wearing cloaks and hoods filed out, Bellatrix, the Lestrange brothers, Lucius Malfoy, Lukewood, old Nott, old Goyle...familiar ones The faces of the Death Eaters came, clustering around the pale, snake-faced figure with erect pupils in the middle, gradually surrounding the two of them.

Green light seals of skeletons and snakes appeared in the sky, and dark demon marks covered the sky and the moon, weighing heavily on the abandoned amusement park.

Harry quietly tightened his grip on the wand, his palms turning white as he squeezed them, and his arms trembled slightly from excessive tension.

He didn't doubt Snape, he was just thinking about how to escape tonight.

"Resurrection from the dead is incredible, what a genius idea..."

Voldemort walked slowly around the broken crucible, hissing in admiration from his mouth. When passing by Harry, he even leaned close to Harry's neck and spit out the Forked Snake Letter and took a deep breath. His hoarse voice was full of joy:

"It is another great feat to invite dear Harry from the high security of Hogwarts to attend our late-night gathering. Severus, my most loyal servant, your life belongs to the great Dark Lord, How could you decide on your own and give it up for that woman?

"It's really a headache. Let me think about it, how should I reward you for your contribution, and how should I punish you for wasting my life?"

Snape held the wand calmly and raised his head to look at Voldemort. All the turbulent emotions were contained in his heart, and his expression was only indifferent.

His mind was rational and sober, and he understood that the wisest choice now was to agree to Voldemort, abandon his dignity as usual, look for opportunities to protect Harry, and lie dormant to continue collecting intelligence for the Order of the Phoenix...

Snape took a deep breath and said softly:

"[Avada Kedavra]"