Just a Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor

"No." Sherlock shook his head, "You're not."

Tom suddenly bowed his head and stared at him horribly.

"I'm nothing!"

"You are his soul, or a part of his soul." The confusion on Sherlock's face gradually unraveled, and he seemed to finally understand something, "I don't know what magic Voldemort used to separate his soul, Part of it was put into his school diary by him, and then there was you."

Tom was quiet, the grimness on his face was gone, but it became cloudy.

"You're very smart, Professor Forrest. You're really smart. If you were my professor when I was in school, you might have seen through everything I did."

He said sullenly.

"But no matter how much you see now, it's useless, you're going to die soon!"

While he was talking, the basilisk, who had been curled up in the corner and relieved his pain by self-mutilation, finally recovered.

Its jaw with a large hole was still dripping black blood on the ground.

But its vitality is extremely tenacious, even this kind of injury did not let it die, but continued to smell Sherlock and the others everywhere, intending to continue to attack.

Sherlock didn't pay attention to the basilisk who was waiting for an opportunity to attack at all, and his eyes were fixed on Tom.

"So you admit I'm right, you're not Voldemort's memory at all, you're him! You're part of his soul!"

"Yes! You are right."

Tom admitted it generously. He didn't think anyone could escape alive here, and no one would know about these things.

"I am him, he is me, and our souls have the same root!"

Sherlock had a big smile on his face.

Harry and Ron were stunned when they saw his smile, they had never seen Sherlock smile so genuinely since they had known him.

Although his face was covered in blood at this time and his robe was torn, there was still no way to hide his dazzling smile.

"Then I understand." He said softly.

Then he stretched out his hand and touched Tom's seemingly real but illusory body.

Tom felt something was wrong, and he started to get nervous.

"What do you want to do?"

Sherlock didn't answer him, because an obscure spell had already begun to come out of his mouth.

A gray light began to light up where his hand and Tom's body joined!

Tom obviously felt that his body was being squeezed and compressed by a strange force, as if to rub him into a thin line!

He has no way to resist that power, as if it is aimed specifically at the soul, and it is still a broken soul!

He screamed nervously and terrified.

"What have you done to me! Stop! How dare you! Do you know what you are doing!"

His sharp voice did not stop Sherlock's movements for half a second!

The gray light lit up Tom's whole body, even making him unable to maintain his adulthood!

The piercing screams echoed in the lounge!

Sherlock felt that the mark on his left arm was astonishingly hot, but he did not stop his movements. The soul repairing magic he learned from the book written by the original owner's mother continued to be used.

He could feel that the consciousness in Tom's soul had been completely erased and turned into a pure soul body that could no longer be pure.

And mending magic is crumpling the soul into threads, making needles from spells, mending his own torn soul.

Just as Sherlock cast the mending spell on Tom, the basilisk's movements didn't stop.

It stretched its tense body from pain, smelled the smell, and found Sherlock and the others.

Harry, still wearing the Sorting Hat, has been trying to communicate with the Sorting Hat, to no avail.

This hat seems to have become an ordinary hat, without any magical effect.

After Tom got stuck with Sherlock's spell, the effect of the binding spell on them disappeared.

Harry looked at the basilisk that had reached out, gritted his teeth, put the Sorting Hat on Neville's head, and called to Ron.

"We have to figure out a way to do Professor Forrest a favor and help him entangle the basilisk!"

Ron pulled out his wand, and the magic tape on it didn't know when it expired. His broken wand was once again connected with only a bit of wood wool in the middle.

He angrily put his wand on the ground, and then went to pick up Neville's wand that Tom had dropped on the ground.

Harry and him ran together in the lounge, their spells hitting the basilisk's thick skin painlessly, not doing much damage, but drawing it away from Sherlock.

Fox, who was knocked to the side, finally got rid of Tom's curse at this time.

It spread its wings and gliding in the air, venting its anger on the basilisk, constantly attacking its blind eyes with its sharp beak.

But the resistance of the basilisk is also extremely fierce!

The lack of hearing and vision makes it less powerful, but on the other hand it strengthens it.

It twisted its body randomly, Ron couldn't dodge, was hit by its tail, and slammed into the wall!

"Ron!" Harry cried anxiously.

Ron didn't answer him, and the impact made him faint on the spot.

Neville's lips trembled as he watched Ron being knocked out, Harry and Fox still entangled with the basilisk, and his face grew paler.

"Help them! I want to help them!" He kept begging to the hat on his head, "Please, let me help them!"

Suddenly, something very hard and heavy fell on top of Neville's head, almost knocking him unconscious.

A gold star appeared in front of his eyes. He grabbed the top of the hat and tried to take it off, but he felt a long, hard thing under the hat.

That is a gorgeous sword!

"Thank you!" He didn't know who he was thanking.

Neville raised the sword, stood up from the ground with all his strength, and walked in the direction of the Basilisk!

He laboriously raised the sword high above his head, staggering little by little, approaching the huge body of the Basilisk, and finally stabbed into its flesh and blood!

"hiss!!!"

The tragic and low roar sounded again!

The basilisk tumbled violently, throwing the already powerless Neville out!

At this time, Sherlock also completely completed the stitching magic.

He felt that he was in an extremely wonderful state, he had never felt so powerful!

Powerful, it seems that as long as he is willing, just with a single thought, he can make things in reality accomplish everything he imagined!

His eyes flashed with a faint golden light, and he looked at the basilisk that was still struggling.

Sherlock gently stretched out one of his hands, without chanting, without waving his staff, without any spellcasting gestures.

He just moved his thoughts.

Countless broken tables, chairs and benches floated up in the lounge, and these fragments harmlessly surrounded the basilisk.

Then it suddenly turned into countless spears several meters long!

It pierced through its body in an instant!