Chapter 749

"... it was a doe. A doe patron saint appeared in McMillan's backyard and told me Draco had gone home."

As mentioned earlier, using the patron saint's spell to convey messages is a magic spell technique developed by Dumbledore. Long ago, he taught many practical magic knowledge to members of the order of the Phoenix, so this is certainly not Maka's unique ability.

Earlier, when Marca and Lucius mentioned Narcissa, they seemed to inadvertently signal Snape.

After all, he must also use the rune matrix himself. If magic can save a little, he can save a little. This is also to ensure that he is safe.

"... is it still a doe?"

After hearing Narcissa's words, Marca couldn't help glancing at Snape.

The animal image formed by the patron saint's curse will change with the mood of the caster.

For example, Snape, his DOE patron saint, is based on his best and most yearning obsession, which is the greatest nostalgia for what is expected but not available.

Because at the beginning, Harry's mother lily, her patron saint, was a clever and naughty doe.

"By the way, Mr. McLean, our husband and wife are really grateful for Draco today! But... Will he be all right in the future? Won't he still be like today after waking up? Will he have nightmares... No more?"

It was Lucius who spoke, but he actually asked instead of his wife Narcissa. As for Narcissa, she felt a little different when she faced Marca - she was still very uncomfortable to thank a teenager as old as her son.

Or, like Bellatrix, born in the Black family, her pride is not much lower than that crazy sister.

Of course, Marca doesn't care much about these little things.

"Draco is all right," he nodded to the couple. "It's just..."

His unexpected turn suddenly made Malfoy and his wife worried, for fear that his baby son would leave some terrible sequelae.

However, Maka suddenly smiled easily.

"Only, nightmares probably happen..." he shrugged. "Don't you usually have nightmares? I sometimes come here... For example, someone ate the dragon meat cake I hid in the drawer... Oh, that's really terrible!"

While Lucius and Narcissa were stunned, Snape gently pulled the corners of his mouth, and his expression showed a trace of subtlety.

……

When Marca and Snape left Malfoy Manor, it was already past lunch time. Lucius wanted to treat them both well, but they didn't stay there to eat in the end.

Being a professor in a magic school is not as free as you think... No, in fact, it's quite free. I mean, if you don't have so many "private things" to do.

Just like the recent Maka, he had just finished the busy alchemy competition, but he was a little uneasy by Haier Bo emerging from the ground. After finally deciding to step up the process of studying magic, he was in a dilemma by the bronze Eagle emerging from the doorknob.

However, in line with the strange psychology of being born in Hufflepuff college, when he left Malfoy's house, he packed a delicate and delicious meal by the way.

"Professor, don't you really need it? I've packed a lot of delicious food here. You can go there at different times... I think you know that dinner should be over in the auditorium by now."

Soon, Marka and Snape reappeared at the school gate of Hogwarts vestibule. Then Marka patted her waist pocket and asked casually.

"No."

Snape shook his head and went straight in, as if he wanted to go straight back to his office.

Maka casually tilted her mouth behind her, then took out an oily fried chicken leg from her waist and walked along the vestibular path.

Before long, his mouth was full of shiny oil, and several little wizards who took advantage of the walk in the vestibule after dinner stared at him and laughed.

But Marca didn't care about this. He directly brazenly walked through the vestibular lawn and chewed chicken legs to the school hospital on the second floor of the castle.

The door of the ward was open. Before entering, he looked inside and went in only after he found that Mrs. Pomfrey was not in.

"Hey, Sarah --" Marca said as she walked, "almost. Even if an ordinary student broke his arm, it's time to recover. If you continue to live, you won't avoid people's eyes, but make people suspicious!"

The fat man has followed his father back to Egypt, and now Sarah is the only one left in the ward. If Marca hadn't greeted Mrs. Pomfrey, she would have been kicked out of the school hospital.

"Good afternoon, Professor McLean."

"Oh, good afternoon!"

After Maka nodded at her, she pulled over the chair beside the sick bed and sat down. Her hand shook gently, and the chicken bones immediately disappeared into his hands. Then he took out the next chicken leg from his waist and continued to bite.

"I just got some harvest today. I think we can have a chat..." he said vaguely while chewing. "By the way, I remember you said, you once wanted to find wizards who are good at soul magic, didn't you?"

Sarah on the hospital bed heard the speech, pulled the quilt in front of her body, and then nodded.

"Have you found it?" Marca asked again.

"As I said before, there are few people studying soul magic," she said. "However, in so many years, I have indeed found several..."

"So, has anyone mentioned the composition of the soul to you?"

That's the answer Marca wanted, so he interrupted Sarah before she finished. When Sarah heard his question, she first bowed her head slightly and recalled it, and then shook her head.

"No," she affirmed, "if someone has told me, I usually won't forget."

After listening to this, Maka couldn't help pausing a little. She was probably sorting out her own ideas. After clarifying some thoughts in his heart, he went on——

"Sarah, I once saw such a sentence in a magic book," he put aside his hand holding a chicken leg and said seriously, "'The weight of the soul comes from the unbearable light of sin '.... the person who wrote this sentence was Ragnar Bastos."

After repeating this sentence, Maka continued: "the meaning of this sentence is not difficult to understand. Bastos wants to tell others that although the weight of the soul is almost insignificant, this is not the reason why people arbitrarily deprive others of their lives."

"I don't know who this' Ragnar Bastos' is - there is no record of him anywhere except the hand copied magic book. But when I opened the book, I was a little concerned about his words left on the title page..."

"I haven't heard of this man. I don't seem to have read the book you said," Sarah blinked. "But... What's the problem with this sentence?"

From Maka's narration, it seems that this sentence is really nothing special. Isn't it a warning to warn others not to harm others at will?

However, Maka immediately waved her hand.

"Sorry, my explanation of that sentence is a little superfluous..." he smiled and said, "what I care about now is actually the word 'sin' in that sentence."

"Did you mention Voldemort last time? You said you wanted to find him..." Marca said, "your guess was right. Voldemort's resurrection is really related to soul magic. I don't know... Have you ever heard of 'Horcruxes'?"

Few people know about Horcruxes. Even a magic school like Hogwarts is lucky to have a complete book "uncover the secrets of cutting-edge black magic" written by future generations.

To be honest, whether the method of making Horcruxes in that book is complete or not, we have to say something else.

People like Sarah, who squats at home all year round, even if she lives long enough, it is difficult to get access to such rare powerful dark magic books.

So instead of waiting for her answer, Maka went on by herself.

"Horcruxes can store soul fragments, so that after being killed, the soul cannot be far away from the world because it is incomplete..." he explained, "Oh, I can't say more about the specific content. I want to borrow only one of them, that is, making Horcruxes - murder!"

Sarah was puzzled when she heard this.

"You mean --"

"It's' sin '," Maka said in a deep voice. "I think that the act of murder, combined with a specific spell, is actually amplifying some kind of sin in the limit and tearing up one's soul..."

"That is to say, the composition of the soul may contain the so-called 'sin'!"

At this point, Maka is far from finished, because he can't even talk about today's harvest until the concept of roll call.

However, just as he wanted to leave some time for Sarah to digest his ideas, a magic wave appeared from the corridor outside the ward.

"There seems to be someone..."

Maka suddenly turned back, but immediately found an old face at the door, which stretched several inches behind him.

"Professor McLean," the mouth on his face opened and closed, spitting out a cold word, "I think it's obviously a 'sin' to eat chicken legs in the ward, don't you think?"

"Er, oh..." Maka looked at the chicken leg in her hand and immediately smiled awkwardly, "Mrs. Pomfrey, you're right!"