The Pacifist Necromancer of Hogwarts

Anthony was woken up by a peck. The Wraith Chicken stood at the head of the bed and looked at him sideways. Familiar chickens, familiar ceilings, familiar dreams...

He yawned and retracted himself into the quilt: Yes, you are back...Thank you, you are still reliable.

The chicken crowed softly. The skeleton cat jumped on the bed, rubbed against Anthony, and then against the Wraith Chicken. Its bones hurt Anthony.

Anthony patted the cat's skull and slowly got up to wash himself. He changed into his pajamas, put the kettle on the stove, and decided to make himself a pot of tea first.

There is nothing edible in his house now.

The whole neighborhood is celebrating Christmas. The canteens, convenience stores, restaurants... are all on holiday, and the boss has gone home, happily hanging a Christmas wreath on the door. He originally planned to go to the convenience store where he worked before to buy some food, but after counting the days, he realized that no one would be working at this time.

Fortunately, his electricity bill was billed quarterly, so when he returned home after a few months, everything was business as usual except for an extra electricity bill in his mailbox. His refrigerator was still humming, dutifully cooling a bottle of milk that had expired into yogurt.

The kettle screamed on the stove. Anthony put down the transfiguration notes in his hand and made a cup of black tea.

Professor McGonagall's notes were quite detailed. They were almost tailor-made for him. They were thin, but they greatly improved his learning efficiency. She wrote on the title page of the note: It's a pleasure to have you join us. Hope it helps.

Anthony clicked on the tea cup to turn the yellow print on it into a Christmas reindeer.

Really helpful. He can now easily turn a pencil into a straw, a kettle into a basket, and a chair into a sled... But he still can't turn a beetle into a button or a snuff box into a mouse.

He didn't know what went wrong, so he had to make some notes in his notes and prepare to ask Professor McGonagall for advice when he returned to school.

The skeleton cat turned around twice but couldn't find the wine. He hesitated and wanted to throw the soul fire into Anthony's tea cup, but he pushed him aside and rolled with the Wraith Chicken.

To give the cat something to do, Anthony transformed the cat's fur. It immediately dropped the chicken and jumped onto the coffee table to lick its feathers.

Now the Wraith Chicken flies over to torment the cat. This was the first time it saw a cat in disguise. It tentatively picked up a bunch of hair and pulled it, but was knocked over on the coffee table by the angry cat. The two guys started fighting again.

Anthony kept poking at the precious beetle in front of him with his wand. Finding beetles is very difficult when there is both a cat and a chicken in the house.

…

After a while, the defeated cat whined at Anthony aggrievedly. Its fur gives the chicken many opportunities to bite, but it is almost impossible to touch its opponent - when the wraith wants to, it can pass through all solid things and disappear anywhere.

It will also have a physical form. I'm thinking about it. Anthony scratched the cat's ears soothingly. Even if I find a way to take it out of the house, it's impossible for me to tell Hogwarts about this translucent cat. The chicken is my owl.”

The winner, the Wraith Chicken, was pacing on the back of the sofa with his chest puffed out.

…

Since people always need to eat, Anthony dug out the flour from the depths of the cabinet and took out the butter from the refrigerator, intending to make some butter shortbread. The chicken squatted motionless on the sofa, watching Anthony wash the glass bowl with the cat.

He washed for a long time, then suddenly slapped his forehead, shook off the water on his hands, took out his wand and touched the sink.

The dishes lined up and jumped into the pool, clinking and washing themselves until they were white and translucent. The towel stayed in mid-air, catching the dishes that flew out after being washed, drying them and stacking them into a neat pile.

Anthony had to admit that magic was really convenient.

I now somewhat understand why some wizards are so ignorant and arrogant... He watched as a bowl jumped to the top of the tableware pile. They may really not be able to imagine life without magic.

When this magical power of idealism can affect the external world, it may be difficult not to have some arrogant thoughts, such as I can make all my wishes come true or The world is built around me.

Humans who have not obtained this part of the power - Muggles - are classified as irrelevant dust by such magical and brainless people, completely unaware that in the invisible corner with their nostrils turned upward, these people who occupy the vast majority of What a powerful force the dust gathers into.

But the Muggle part of Anthony's brain - the part that had structured his twenty-six years of life - told him otherwise. Beyond the magical and magnificent world, there is a vibrant ordinary world, a world for most people.

A world where you can bake sweet and crispy butter shortbread without any magic.

Anthony dipped his shortbread into black tea contentedly and had his first meal after Christmas dinner at one o'clock in the afternoon.

…

To his surprise, when he was studying how to make the Wraith Chicken appear completely opaque, the book that helped him the most was not the notebook on undead magic, but the Christmas gift from Professor Quirrell, the book on the study of the soul. Black magic books.

This book begins with a very detailed review article, listing attempts and results in several fields of soul research, and trying to summarize the experimental results.

The review concludes that each person's soul manifests itself differently, depending on the mark of death on the soul. What is very interesting is that it refutes the statement that the Patron Saint Curse cannot be released if the soul is broken, and instead demonstrates that even if the soul is broken, in theory, as long as enough positive emotions are provided, one can still summon one's own Patron Saint.

Anthony couldn't help but feel a little moved. He had always been interested in the Patronus Charm, but all the spells and Defense Against the Dark Arts books said it was impossible for a dark wizard to conjure those silvery visions of light.

After learning more about the magical world, Anthony has accepted the idea that he suddenly became a born dark wizard when he woke up from the coffin - after all, he was really playing with life and death. Even if it's not a person's life or death.

The only thing he can defend himself with is that he has never harmed a human being. No matter how bloodthirsty his instincts whispered in his mind when he first woke up, how his magic tried to seize the walking materials around him, he could proudly say that he had never truly lost control.

If this pride can be counted as a positive emotion, perhaps he can also summon a wise and beautiful guardian angel. Maybe it could dispel his nightmares, stop the wraith chicken and skeleton cat from having to stay by his side, and allow him to sleep peacefully at Hogwarts without worrying about what he had done when he woke up. things.