💎 WEEKLY POWER GOALS 💎
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Anthony took a deep breath and slowly exhaled.
He stared at the chandelier on his ceiling. Strange—he'd never noticed how beautiful it was. This chandelier and his desk and chairs came from the same master designer house-elf with exquisite copper framework adorned with delicate floral decorations and curves smooth and elegant. Under magic's effect, candles wouldn't burn out, wouldn't drip wax, wouldn't extinguish, and always burned bright flames.
And that circle of crystal bead strings at the chandelier's bottom—they were crystal clear and bright, as if tiny stars gathered together, gently swaying.
Anthony propped himself up from the floor.
To avoid frightening Professor Quirrell, he temporarily reattached his poisoned arm, but this feeling was strange like stuffing bubble gum into his nose. So now he tossed this numb arm away again and decided to deal with it later... He had more important things to do now...
He wanted to see his cat.
His cat curled on the pillow with head pressed on its tail, sleeping comfortably.
Anthony threw himself onto the bed, turned his head to look at the cat—its belly rose and fell with breathing and fur trembled slightly. Anthony smiled, reached out to scratch the cat's head, and said, "Meet a new friend."
The Wraith Mouse huddled in the bedroom doorway corner, refused to approach, and curled itself by the trash can like a small plush toy ball.
The cat ignored him.
Anthony pushed it. "Come on, wake up. Isn't this the time you love wandering around?"
The cat still didn't move.
Then Anthony finally realized something was wrong. He sat up and held the cat on his lap. It still slept peacefully with breathing evenly... Felt like a sleeping, warm kitten.
It was like a living ginger cat, just wouldn't wake.
"God, no," Anthony murmured and began trying various methods to wake it. He tried making it return to Skeleton Cat form but no effect. He opened the window for fresh air and even filled a basin pretending to bathe it.
The cat still slept.
Finally he couldn't stand it and tried directly controlling it like controlling remains—truly the worst possible idea—under his control the cat opened its eyes and walked a few steps, tilted its head and looked at Anthony.
He immediately withdrew magic and took deep breaths suppressing his emotions... This wasn't his cat.
The cat's eyelids closed and started sleeping again.
Not that irritable, picky cat that only bonded with him. That cat that liked wandering out but didn't like being seen by living people. That cat that could scratch all furniture to shreds when angry. His first summon that accompanied him since he crawled from the grave and watched over him in deep night.
The magic maintaining its consciousness trembled weakly. He used too much Necromancy today, so much that Skeleton Cat—the first summon sharing most magic with him—was also affected.
"No," Anthony said. He finally knew why the Basilisk's soul affected him so much... His cat no longer helped him.
Depending on perspective, his cat came alive—or died—God, couldn't people invent other words to describe this state?
If it were still that ordinary Skeleton Cat, he knew what to do—just repair bones, he had experience. But now its flesh clung firmly to bones...
He held the cat and tried thinking of a solution... He knew if the cat was driven back to death's side, how to call it back, but he didn't understand how to beg life to return his dead cat.
This wasn't fair. So many living cats in the world... All colors, all personalities, all sizes, ages, appearances—all kinds of cats, all vibrantly alive in this world, living where sunlight could or couldn't reach. But he only had one dead cat, one dead cat he didn't worry his nightmares would kill.
Why should this cat also live?
Anthony held the cat with one hand and ran upstairs hastily... He thought of a method, perhaps a method—at least, he held hope.
In some conversation about resurrection, the journal recorded a speculation they mentioned—of course, not to make someone's skeleton pet return to death's domain, but to make people return to life's magic...
But if he reversed it...
Anthony opened the Room of Requirement door and jumped down.
Long, slippery passage. Pitch-black, damp tunnel. Running footsteps. Massive shed skin. Bones scattered everywhere. And—most importantly, his target—in the room propped up by stone pillars, under dim light reflecting mysterious green glow, the Basilisk's corpse.
"Good, very good..." Anthony said quietly and held the cat tighter.
Some magic trembled in the air. The Basilisk's corpse still lay quietly on the ground, still an intimidating massive thing, but it seemed empty and made one feel if you went forward and knocked, it would make drum-like thumping sounds—something from the Basilisk's bones was drawn out by Anthony—and Skeleton Cat's bones began emitting crystalline light.
"Come on, cat," he said quietly.
Souls belonged to death. Flesh belonged to life. Bones belonged to necromancers between life and death. He had intense desire.
If a dead cat fell into sleep because too much life was inside its body—because its summoner consumed massive Necromancy—what should its summoner do?
A simple answer would be: give it more Necromancy.
Inferi were made this way. These resurrection research byproducts contained massive Necromancy. Their souls were collected by Death and not a trace would be released, but under Necromancy's influence, life in flesh was firmly suppressed and consciousness remaining in the body could still control it.
In speculation, Necromancy viewed things active in the world as sandwiches. Normal sandwich eating—most conventional death—would be one bite down and mix bread and whatever was in the middle together, but if magic participated... Well, that got complicated. Some bread would be lifted and eaten, some would eat lettuce first, some magic didn't eat the egg in the middle, some would eat tomato and bread together but leave the canned beef for last.
In short, according to the journal, necromancers were those who could control the sandwich. Anthony was trying to add more things to his cat and make this small sandwich return to its previous flavor.
The cat's body temperature rapidly cooled and its breathing grew slower and slower... Water drops echoed falling in the tunnel. It twitched its ears... Then the cat opened its eyes.
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