Hogwarts' Gray Wizard

The waves in the North Sea stir up waves, slapping against a huge castle built on the island.

On the sea, countless dementors were floating, temporarily expelled from Azkaban by the Aurors and were only allowed to enter the castle every two days to eat.

Two combat squads guarded at the entrance to the first floor of Azkaban.

"Hey, Carl, it's time for you to go on a rotation patrol." The captain of one of the squads breathed a sigh of relief and said to the captain of the other squad with a smile.

Carl got up from the sofa lazily, looking at several colleagues who were not in good condition, sighed, "Merlin's beard, I really don't want to walk into Azkaban. Everything here is so bad, even the walls seem to have a shrill wailing sound."

Other colleagues were also complaining that some began to miss their wives, while others were anxious about their grandmothers who were hospitalized in the St. Mungo Magic Injury Hospital...

They walked in the cold prison aisle and still complained.

"Damn it, why can't we let those dementors patrol? They are the jailers."

"Yes, yes, even if you don't patrol, it's nothing. I don't believe what else can the wizard who lost his wand and was locked in a cell? Will he escape from prison? Oh, this is ridiculous, countless dementors are surrounded outside the castle!"

Following the aisle where they were walking slowly, they extended all the way inside, turning to a prison deep in the aisle on their left.

Adams panted and sat in the corner, surrounding him with coldness and loneliness.

Yesterday, the terrifying dementor came over to suck his happiness again, and endless painful memories began to roll in his brain.

His wife took his Jin Jialong and ran away by plane with a Muggle living in London.

My son died of serious illness.

Later, his parents also died one after another because of their old age.

...

One after another in life, his heart tortured hard. He finally lived through alcohol and the pain he had spent on his dead nights. He thought it had passed, but time quietly faded away his color.

Now it is so clear that it is surging in my thoughts.

He couldn't even remember the best things in his life, as if they were all devoured by the dementors.

But he knew that he had not been completely swallowed up. In a day, these memories would be recalled again, so he could survive by relying on these beautiful memories.

But, he seemed to be a little unable to hold on anymore, so how long did he be locked up in Azkaban?

He seemed to be a little unable to remember the time.

The day passed, but he still couldn't remember any happiness. Countless bad memories were surging in his mind, torturing him hard.

Adams felt like he was almost breathless, he was so desperate, like a fish that was taken off from water.

And the most desperate thing is...

He was judged by the Ministry of Magic in a coma, which means he had no idea how long he had been sentenced to crimes.

He didn't know how long he would have to endure before he could be released.

Maybe……

Maybe it's a lifetime?

As soon as he thought of this possibility, he almost completely lost all his beliefs.

He sat in the corner of the wall like a piece of mud. Oh, maybe in a short while, he would die, rot, and then become a piece of mud in the corner of the wall.

After all, the cells here are not clean, and they are full of sneaky lakes and stench.

A particularly beautiful woman was imprisoned in the cell opposite him, with long light brown hair, light brown eyes, flawless white skin, a slightly weak face line, and an exaggerated curve that could not be covered by the wizard's robe.

To be honest, he did not feel comforted by this, after all, he could appreciate the beauty.

Not only because this woman's name is Amy Miller, the famous poisonous black widow on the edge, but more importantly...

He, Adams, still loved his wife very ridiculously.

Yes, it's ridiculous!

He could obviously use ritual magic to curse the woman, the woman who swept away all his property. After all, most of the money he earned was exploited by the Lupin family and the Sugar Cake Alliance, but not much of it could be saved. They were all swept away by the woman and used to form a new family with the handsome tall Muggle.

But he still couldn't do it. He was simply a bitch. He scolded himself like this.

So, when the woman in the cell opposite kept chanting the words "Wes, our king", he was so tired.

You are crazy!

A child, even a top potion master, is right, in so many newspapers, so many big people are praising him. So what if he praises his achievements?

But at this moment, he was really infected.

He could not imagine how the kid spent such a long time in Azkaban, but still remained as cool as ever.

He clearly remembered the magic photo in the newspaper - under the onlook and judgment of countless big names, Anthony Weiss was wearing a prisoner, with elegant and relaxed body, full of confidence on his face, waving his arms, his eyes glowing, talking freely, and walking slowly as if no one else was around. All the big names around were obsessed with his words.

Adams looked down at his prison uniform, thinking about the young man wearing prison uniform, oh, what he wore on him might not be called prison uniform.

It is said that because of this photo, striped outfits became popular on the edge.

Gradually, as he was tortured by the dementor little by little, he began to mutter before he knew it as the woman opposite knelt on the ground and prayed devoutly.

"Wes, our king, pray that you will give me strength to escape from this hell."

Gradually, the young man's memories also began to emit golden light as he recited them over and over again.

He prayed to gain the power of Weis, and to walk out of this hell with all manners, calmness, grace and relaxation as he did.

So at such a moment, he struggled to get up, panting, and struggled to use his weak body to pick up little bits of soil in the corners and in the gaps in the windows, gathering them into a small mound.

This chapter is not over, please click on the next page to continue reading! He is a wizard who has a deep understanding and practice of magic in the ritual of "Praying God to Give Spirits". Even if he loses his wand, he has enough experience and methods.

Be as soon as possible!

He didn't know how long he could stay sane under the torture of the Dementor and this terrifying cell, and as soon as possible!

Adams knelt devoutly on the ground, folded his hands together, chanting the name of "Anthony Weissai", until his whole mind was immersed in the great name of God.

So he pulled off eleven hairs with a calm expression, stuffed them into the soil, broke off another piece of nails, and stuffed them in.

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Finally, he put his bloody hand into his mouth and broke off a tooth hard.

Hair, nails, teeth, blood, his pious heart, and the entire soul, together constructed the simplest, but most pious ritual magic.

"Put all my things as sacrifices to you, my king."

"Wes, our king, pray that you will give me strength to escape from this hell."

He recited it over and over again, and his screams became louder and stronger and stronger.

He could feel the woman in the cell opposite looking at him in surprise. He could feel that there were many people chanting with him in the corridor of the cell, but it didn't matter. They didn't understand. This was ritual magic.

He couldn't do anything well in his life. When he was at Hogwarts, his academic performance was overwhelming. Fortunately, the school did not have high IQ requirements for the Slaiterlings. After graduation, he continued his father's traces and wandered on the streets until he found a job with a classmate named Slaiterling.

Although he was a bad life, he did some insignificant things to do when he pampered his wife, taught his children, found his parents, and supported the elderly.

For a weak person like him, only powerful black magic can help him. The bullshit magic taught in the school is too difficult and he can't learn it at all!

Finally, he found the magic that suits him the most - ritual magic.

Finally, he found his faith through this ritual magic.

It feels great to have faith.

Adams felt a force filled his chest, his hands and feet, his brain, and his entire soul.

Yes, magic!

He felt a powerful magic that he could not imagine in his life, and was washing away by him.

This magic power is so powerful that it is so powerful that he can't understand. He has never felt such a terrifying magic power.

When he was washed away by magic, he trembled, his eyes turned pure white, and he seemed to see clouds in a vague way.

These clouds have created a ladder. He raised his head and looked up along the ladder. He saw a figure in surprise, but not surprisingly.

——His king, Anthony Wes!

Wang Zheng looked at himself with a curious look, and his figure was reflected in his pure and clean eyes.

"My king!"

Adams shouted excitedly, his king, his king, was actually watching him and granting him so much power.

He opened his eyes suddenly, his vision returned to reality. He gasped and looked at his hands. The infinite magic power was spreading out of his hands and turned into substance, like mist, like the clouds under the throne.

These magic mists fell from his hands and flowed into the pile of soil in front of him. Then, he felt an extremely vigorous vitality.

He could feel that this soil was full of vitality and that it was nurturing a magical life.

And the seed is his bloody tooth!

Adams watched all the changes excitedly, and looked at the beauty devoutly.

Then, he saw his teeth sprouting rapidly, breaking out of the ground and growing upwards.

Finally, it turned into a twelve-inch-long, white bone-like wand with a frog-shaped wand at the top.
To be continued...