Hogwarts: Harry Returns from the Witcher

Chapter 125 Peter's Death (Part [-] ~ Please subscribe)
The wand was glossy black.

Blackthorn, dragon heartstring core, eleven and one-third inches.

Well maintained by previous owner.

It's just that there are a few brand new teeth marks, which damage its appearance.

Peter trembled, his hands softened, and the wand dropped and plunged into the snow.

"Don't be like this, you are a Gryffindor anyway." Harry looked at him with an indifferent expression, without any fluctuations in his tone, "You are a dark wizard with dozens of lives in his hands anyway."

Peter flung himself into the snow, howling and begging Harry.

"It's useless to pretend." Harry frowned, and his tone became impatient. "Except for Sirius, who else can you hide from you?"

The mouse's face and eyes were full of tears, and he was uttering the words of regretful confession, but no matter where he was, there was no trace of regret.

His breath was like sticky swamp silt, exuding an extremely disgusting breath.

He took out the amulet.

Trembling violently, the buzzing sound even covered the wind and snow.

"Look up and look at me," Harry snapped.

Peter looked up subconsciously.

"You can't even hide your malice, so why continue to pretend?" Harry said calmly, "Many people say that my face looks like my father, James Potter."

"Then just treat me as him."

"Betrayed your friend, but killed him under the guise of someone else, don't you feel uncomfortable?"

"Isn't it better to kill the friend who was betrayed by oneself?"

With that said, Harry paused: "I assure you, only me, Uncle Lupine, Godfather, and even Hermione and Ron will not get involved."

Peter picked up his wand and struggled to stand up, his eyes complained and hated, staring at the man in front of him.

"Potter, I know you have some skills." Peter took a deep breath and habitually arched his back. "But you will regret it. This is not the same as dealing with magical creatures or competing with professors."

"Aren't you a Fantastic Beast?" Harry sneered, "A magical bald rat that can turn into a man."

Peter gritted his teeth.

Harry walked up to Hermione and handed her his wand: "Hermione, lend me your wand."

Hermione froze for a moment, pulled out her wand, and handed it to Harry with a puzzled look on her face.

"I'm not bullying you." Harry looked at Peter's hand, "That's not your wand, and I don't know how to use mine."

Hermione's wand was also well maintained.

Vine wood, dragon heartstrings, slightly shorter than Harry's own wand, ten and three quarter inches.

It was held in Harry's hand, and he entangled his breath happily.

The wind and snow whizzed, scraping against the trees like knives, and the dangling dead branches rustled.

Lupine and the others stepped aside.

Crookshanks they also fell silent.

In a vast expanse of whiteness, there are two small black dots.

Crunch, crunch—

Harry stepped on the snow, walked up to Peter, and pulled out the Gryffindor sword from the sorting hat: "Do you still remember dueling etiquette?"

Peter bowed and bowed.

"Alder!"

Harry raised his hand, the magic power swept and impacted, the snow splattered, and Peter staggered and fell. He stepped forward, raised one hand, and put a layer of Quen on himself, and the other hand held the sword and nailed down hard. .

"Etiquette is for people."

"There's nothing like that between us."

He suppressed his voice, growled in a low voice, and spit out the words from his throat.

The sword will see blood.

After all, Peter was a mouse. With a shrinking body, he twisted and turned back into an Anima Magus. He narrowly avoided the sword, and in the blink of an eye, he changed back into a human form again. He raised his wand and pointed it at Harry's chest.

Harry kicked him hard in the waist.

He groaned, unable to pronounce the incantation.

Another sword strike!
"Thunderbolt explosion!"

The air wave surged, and Quinn's golden light shone, pushing Harry back, and Peter burrowed into the snow.

A few sounds——

The robe turned into metallic vines, piercing Peter's calf mercilessly, piercing through it mercilessly, blood gushing out, turning the white into red, accompanied by a miserable scream.

The vine tugged, pulling Peter's body and dragging him back.

Kacha, Kacha, from the bottom of the snow, suddenly a group of mice, with bloody mouths almost half the size of their bodies, rushed towards Harry.

"Alder!"

The seal was issued, and the mouse flew upside down, rolling up snow and mud. Harry grabbed the vine again, and the other end was light and weightless.

Rats are running around.

Harry caught sight of him with a quick glance, swung his wand, and his robes formed a prison that fell from the sky and fell hard.

The mouse was startled, twisted back into a human form, and waved its hand.

The prison was blown up, but immediately after, another prison was covered.

Peter struggled and fled in the snow.

He also wanted to fight back, but Harry's fighting rhythm was like a storm. This little wizard was stronger than Ron and the little lions.

His physical strength, magical power, and spiritual will were all consumed extremely quickly.

If you go on like this, you will die!

Really will die!

Peter’s eyes were filled with panic. This thought had tortured him for 13 years. It was tied around his neck like a rope, and every year it got tighter, making him more and more out of breath.

And now...

The rope was finally catching his breath completely.

Do you want to wait to die?

Peter raised his wand, concentrating the magic power, and he wanted to say the spell, the spell that allowed him to escape by feigning death and survive.

call out--

The vine swung and slammed into his hand, knocking the wand off.

There is no way to vent the magic power, and it disappears silently in the hands.

Peter stared blankly at the drop of the wand, at the plunge into the snow, but he didn't do anything, and he knelt on the ground with a plop.

"You're weak." Harry looked at him with a cold tone, "I'm disappointed."

"My father and mother died because of people like you."

"I thought you would be strong, I thought you would be ambitious, I thought you would be cruel..."

Speaking of this, Harry paused and took a step forward, the mouse couldn't help shivering.

"But what did you show me?"

Harry's tone was complicated.

"Weak, cowardly, evasive."

"It's ridiculous that my parents would die because of you."

"It's ridiculous."

Peter raised his head and said nothing, his eyes still looked at Harry pleadingly.

The badge no longer vibrates.

Harry walked over slowly, raised the sword, swung it down with all his might, the sharp blade cut off his head, and the whole one fell to the ground with a rumble.

The fountain of blood splashed high.

The cold wind was still biting, blowing like knives, and there was a vast expanse of whiteness, with two small red figures.

This isn't Harry's first murder.

But this was the first time after he killed someone, his heart was empty.

revenge?

It's that simple?
"Harry." Sirius jumped and rolled, walked to Harry's side, tripped with his left foot and fell in front of him, his face was also stained with blood, "It's okay."

"Peter is a scum, he is not human at all."

"He's finally dead!"

Harry turned his head and shook his head: "Godfather, don't comfort me, I'm fine."

"I just……"

"Without the real sense of revenge, Peter just died."

Hermione stood beside Lupin, her head tilted, her nose was a little sore. As Harry's closest friends, she and Ron could see more of Harry's expressions than ordinary people.

But no matter when and where.

Harry has always been the mature, powerful "little lion".

But now?

He finally looks like a 13-year-old child with confusion on his face. No one is mature for no reason, and the happier the child is, the more innocent he is.

Hermione gripped her wand tightly.

"Dumbledore might wish to see a living Peter." Lupine stared at the head of his former friend, sighing.

Harry shook his head, waved his wand, and the bag that had held Peter flew in.

Bodies and heads flew in.

"Dumbledore is Dumbledore after all," he said softly. "His last name is not Black, nor Lupine, nor Potter."

"Let's go and find him..."

The last sentence could not be finished.

In the distance, a sad chill came over.

There was also the sound of hurried footsteps.

"Blake!" Scrimgeour's voice came, he trotted over, gritted his teeth, and there was even a little surprise in his voice.

A group of Aurors followed.

And a group of dementors who are some distance away from the Aurors, but are as black as dark clouds.

"Their noses are really sensitive!" Sirius clenched his fists and was about to turn into a black dog when Lupine grabbed him.

The head of the Auror's office lost his hat and saw messes all over the floor, traces of all kinds of transfiguration, spell battles, and blood all over the place.

With a thump in my heart, I looked at Harry: "Potter, are you okay?"

"I don't know when you went blind." Harry shook his head and greeted him.

Scrimgeour heaved a sigh of relief, he was very used to this kind of greeting, and turned his head to look at Sirius: "That means Black was subdued by you? Thank God, Harry, you are really good, then put him..."

Harry waved his wand, stuck in the snow, and the blood-stained wand flew into Sirius' hand.

Scrimgeour saw this scene in his eyes, and he didn't react a little. His brain froze, and after a while, he said in a panic: "Potter, what are you doing?"

"This is Black, the murderer of your parents!"

Harry raised his hand and arched Sirius' waist.

But he buried his head and just accepted Scrimgeour's words.

Lupine sighed.

Hermione couldn't bear to look directly at it, and Ron knew that now he had to at least speak up and defend himself, so that Harry could tell about Peter.

"Director Scrimgeour, are we bringing Sirius to the headmaster's office now? I think we can sit down and talk slowly." Harry also sighed and said softly.

very good……

He understood the truth that Sirius and Dumbledore were opposites, and he was not reliable at all in major matters.

"We can, but Black can't." Scrimgeour shook his head. "He will be brought back to Azkaban, and the Ministry of Magic needs to give the wizards an explanation as soon as possible."

Harry's tone was serious and firm: "Director Scrimgeour, I think there are many things that you need to know again."

　The writing of this chapter is a bit tangled, and I feel unsatisfactory (although the book about Hademo written by the book friend last night is really very emotional, but unfortunately it is not suitable for Harry now)
　　Tangled all morning.

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(End of this chapter)