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Prisoner Of Hogwarts

Prisoner Of Hogwarts

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Chapter 9: Raven Eye

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Chapter 9: Raven Eye

As Raven's Eye opened, Lynch felt his vision blur, then suddenly widen.

The surface of the black Stone Table split and extended at the bottom of his field of vision, its edges spreading like two curved tracks into the depths of his peripheral sight.

He found he could simultaneously see the cauldron on the left side of the table and the glass instruments on the shelf of the wall to the right.

Slightly turning his head, the cracks and scorch marks on the Stone Table, burned by the Phoenix flames, and the ashes of the cloth bag that had been caught in the blaze were clearly visible.

A Giant shadow stood clearly before him; upon closer inspection, it was himself with his eyes closed.

He looked at his own body a few steps away, savoring the sense of detachment that arose from the separation of his consciousness and physical perception.

He took a step, experiencing the awkward feeling of walking on claws, and spread his wings, sensing how the faint air flowed and brushed against the feathers on his body.

After moving for a while, Lynch stopped.

He opened his own eyes and saw the Raven standing on the Stone Table.

A hidden connection still bound them together.

He tilted his head, and the Raven's head tilted with it; he raised his arm, and the Raven opposite raised its corresponding wing.

Lynch extended his right hand, pinching his middle finger, ring finger, and thumb together, and the connection was instantly severed.

The Raven reverted to an unmoving wooden carving.

Lynch closed his eyes, exhaling deeply, "Now, the fences of Hogwarts are no longer a cage..."

Raising his hand to cast a Renovation Charm on himself, Lynch sensed the consumption of his magic, making a silent assessment in his mind.

After a long time, he opened his eyes, walked to the Stone Table, and ran two fingers across its surface; the flame-damaged surface of the Stone Table rippled like water, restoring itself in the blink of an eye.

Then Lynch pressed his finger onto the head of the wooden carving; as Lynch's finger pressed down, the size of the wooden carving also began to change, shrinking from a height of 40 centimeters standing on the table to 20 centimeters.

It transformed from a Giant Raven into a petite crow.

He lightly tapped the crow's head with a single finger, and the crow suddenly sprang from the Stone Table, flapping its wings for momentum, and landed on Lynch's shoulder.

Lynch left the room, descended the inverted staircase, and reached the first floor of the Stone house.

Lighting the fireplace again with a flick of his finger, Lynch walked to the desk and sat down; after a brief thought, he conjured a page of parchment, with an Auto-Dictation Quill poised nearby.

"The evening of July 31st, 1991," he began, and as he spoke, the Dictation Quill rapidly wrote on the parchment, "The inspiration derived from the Horcrux has finally been successfully transformed into reality; this magic ritual, which I have named Raven's Eye, successfully came into being tonight.

Firstly, it must be noted that although the inspiration for this magic ritual comes from the advanced Dark Arts of Horcrux creation, this magic is not Dark Arts; it is a White magic with a very expensive cost of use.

Any Wizard can cast it, provided they possess sufficiently profound magic attainments and can bear the consumption of those rare magic materials.

Another reason I believe this magic is not Dark Arts is that it does not require strong negative emotions to be driven and cast, unlike Dark Arts, and therefore will not, in turn, affect the caster and twist their minds.

In fact, the only harm this magic inflicts upon oneself is the pain of drawing blood from the tip of one's heart; it is an extremely intense pain, feeling in that instant as if one's heart has been torn in half; unfortunately, at present, no corresponding magic protection has been developed for this step, and the caster can only be required to endure it with their strong will.

Using that drop of blood drawn from the tip of my heart as an anchor, I successfully connected the senses of the wooden carving Raven to myself.

From the moment the magic ritual succeeded, I gained an additional channel for observing and perceiving the outside world, besides my own.

I can receive the Raven's sensory information, see what it sees, hear what it hears, and perceive its environment; sitting in Hogwarts, I can eavesdrop on a conversation in Hogsmeade or attend a lively celebration.

From the actual experience just now, I can also cast simple magic through the Raven, such as the Wand-Lighting Charm, or its complete opposite, the Darkness Charm, which can weaken the surrounding light and make it dark.

The reason only simple magic can be cast is due to another important factor involved in the operation of this magic mechanism—the consumption of magic.

A point that needs correction is that at the moment the ritual succeeded, I only gained the authority to connect to the senses of the wooden carving Raven; to receive those perceptions anytime, anywhere, requires continuous consumption of my own magic.

Casting spells through the Raven will consume double the magic.

Although not yet actually tested, I estimate that the magic consumed to receive the Raven's perception will increase with the Raven's distance from me.

Therefore, although theoretically speaking, I can rely on the Raven wooden carving to see thousands of miles away, in reality, based on my own magic estimation, the range within which I can control the Raven's activities for a long time is about a hundred miles around myself as the starting point.

If it were an ordinary Wizard, this number would drop to about ten miles.

So this magic still has a lot of room for improvement.

How to solve the pain of drawing blood from the tip of the heart and the problem of the Raven's ultra-long-distance activity restrictions are the challenges that need to be addressed next."

He stopped speaking, pulled open the left drawer of the desk, which was filled with densely packed, vertically arranged parchment scrolls.

The newly recorded parchment also automatically rolled up and flew into the drawer.

Closing the drawer, he walked to the dining table, rang the bell, and Lynch began to eat dinner.

After dinner, he sat by the fireplace reading for a while, then Lynch extinguished the fireplace and returned to the bedroom on the second floor.

Without lighting a candle, in the darkness, he stood by the window, his gaze piercing through the darkness of the Forbidden Forest towards the southeast; although he couldn't see anything, he stared in that direction for a good while.

Lynch murmured to himself, "Now, I'm ready, are you?"

After a while, he finally withdrew his gaze, changed into his pajamas, and went to bed to rest... Just as Lynch was lying in bed falling asleep, in the romantic city of France, across the sea from Great Britain, a figure wrapped in a black robe was moving through a dark alley.

A sharp voice emanated from the robed figure: "Idiot! You failed... You let him escape!"

Another voice trembled in response: "Master, he was prepared, someone warned him... But we already know where he hid the item!"

"Shut up!" the sharp voice reprimanded, "Now we return to London, this time we must get it!"

...At the same time, on a large reef by the English Channel, in a shabby, dilapidated little wooden hut, Harry Potter tossed and turned on the floor, wrapped in a thin blanket, trying to get comfortable sleep.

But he didn't know that dozens of miles away in the sky, a Giant named Hagrid was flying towards him on a Giant motorcycle.

He still lay on the floor, staring at Dudley's luminous watch face, anticipating his birthday approaching minute by minute with each tick-tock.

Three—two—one—

Boom!

With a loud bang, the entire wooden hut shook violently, and Harry sat up, seeing a Giant burst through the door.

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