RNP Chapter 158 Weasley's Magic Willow Stick
Chapter 158 Weasley's Magic Willow Stick
Chapter 159 Weasley's Magic Willow Stick
Now, Lupin and Black have deduced that Legnark was treacherous when he forged the sword. Upon hearing this, Harry was filled with suspicion and his eyebrows furrowed in surprise.
He held the dagger horizontally in his hand, his fingertips tracing the blade to the hilt. He gripped the blade tightly, and with a sudden pull of his wrist, the blade separated from the mithril hilt.
Harry instantly saw through his treachery and was enraged. He knew perfectly well what Legnark meant.
This fellow deliberately taught him to believe that the hilt and blade were cast as one piece, and that control depended entirely on mental focus.
When he was distracted, he would imitate his ancestors' trick of stealing swords, quietly steal the blade, and find a good hilt to insert it into.
Thinking of this, Harry's eyes flashed with murderous intent, and he cursed, "Damn it! This filthy bastard dares to play tricks; even that one ear is probably too much of a burden!"
Upon hearing this, Black stepped forward, rolled up his sleeves, and exclaimed, "Don't worry, Harry, I'll go with you to find that goblin!"
"I'm quite adept at dealing with these non-wizard creatures."
These words were like a bucket of cold water poured over a fire, slightly easing the pent-up frustration in Harry's chest. He sheathed his sword again and laughed loudly:
"I will spare that scoundrel's life for now! I have personally killed my enemy, offered sacrifices to the spirits of my parents in heaven, and cleared my adoptive father's name. Heaven and earth bear witness to my actions!"
"Tonight we must drink all night long, and no one is allowed to leave until Venus rises!"
Harry then called Lockhart over, told him the address in Scrimgeour's secret document, and instructed him:
"Go and write a letter, summoning my brother Scrimgeour and all the Aurors here. Just say that capturing the enemy who harmed my parents will be a great achievement."
Lockhart was overjoyed to hear that such an important task had fallen into his lap, thinking that he was now even more closely involved in this momentous matter.
He nodded hastily and ran off into the distance.
Seeing that Lockhart was far away and everything was temporarily settled, Ron, like a deflated sack of wood, slumped to the ground with a thud and sighed deeply:
"That damn Peter Pettigrew, what a waste of my wand."
Upon hearing this, Harry asked in surprise, "Brother, what makes you say that? Could it be that there was another danger when we left that secret passage of the Man-Beating Willow?"
Before Ron could speak, he sighed and lamented for a while before recounting the whole story.
Readers, please hear this: It turns out that Peter Pettigrew cast a wicked spell inside the Willow Tree, summoning fiery lava, which was extremely ferocious.
Ron had no choice but to use a cold spell to barely suppress the fire and prevent the secret passage from collapsing.
After everyone left, he also tried to leave, but as soon as he withdrew his supernatural power, the top wall made a "boom" and squeezed out a stream of crimson molten lava, which shot into his wrist holding the staff like an arrow!
Ron felt a sharp pain in his wrist, and as he loosened his grip, the wand fell to the ground.
No sooner said than done, a swirling stream of molten metal engulfed the magic wand in an instant, turning it into wisps of blue smoke.
Ron was heartbroken, but he dared not linger. He gritted his teeth and desperately tried to escape. Just as he burst out of the cave, he heard a deafening roar behind him. The entire secret passage was filled with rolling lava, and there was no trace of him left.
Upon hearing Ron's words, Harry grabbed his arm and exclaimed, "Brother, don't panic! I'm not an ungrateful person! I'll go with you to find the wand!"
"Oh, Harry, forget it. My wand is probably burned to ashes by now."
Lupin reassured him, "Wands have a spirit; perhaps it will use its magic to protect itself."
Seeing him say this, Ron felt a sense of anticipation.
After saying this, the group threw Peter Pettigrew's body back to the spot and hurriedly returned to the willow tree where they had been beaten.
Looking up, one can't help but gasp: the towering ancient willow has been eroded by the lava, its entire body covered in molten red liquid, thousands of branches and leaves turned to charcoal, and ashes fall in the wind, just like the ghost tree in Fengdu City that has been struck by heavenly fire.
Seeing this, Ron could only shake his head and sigh.
"Forget it, Harry. Look, the snow around here has all melted, and my wand would probably be charred by now."
Blake, standing beside Ron, patted him on the shoulder with his large hand, saying comfortingly, "Don't be sad, lad. I can get you a new one for Christmas."
Harry remained silent, his two sword-like eyebrows furrowing into dark, bluish-gray knots.
Wizards regard their wands as swordsmen cherish them, as if they were another life. Now that Ron has broken his wand for the sake of loyalty, how can Harry not feel as if his heart is being torn apart?
Harry, hands on his hips, was deep in thought when he suddenly felt the purple-gold gourd at his waist. A sudden realization dawned on him, and he thought to himself:
As the saying goes, water and fire are mutually destructive. The Xuanming True Water bestowed by the great power of the East must be no ordinary thing. Why not give it a try?
Without hesitation, he untied the gourd, removed the stopper, and poured the glistening drop of water onto the scorched tree roots.
This is truly divine skill! The moment the water droplet touched the soil, a chilling mist instantly filled the air!
The molten lava flowing on the ground solidified into dark, hard rocks, and the raging flames, as if encountering their nemesis, were completely annihilated with a hissing sound.
Even more miraculously, the half-withered willow tree sprouted new branches and tender leaves, and in the blink of an eye, it stood tall and shady, its green shade swaying, looking even more vibrant than before!
Harry was so startled that he took a step back and exclaimed, "Oh my! This miraculous rejuvenation... could it be the Bodhisattva Guanyin's willow branch and sweet dew descending to earth?"
Hermione was stunned for only a moment. Seeing the Whomping Willow baring its claws again, she quickly used her wand to summon a stone to strike the scar, calming it down.
Lupin was dumbfounded. "What kind of water is this? It can actually revive the Willow Tree that used to beat people?!"
Blake scratched his chin and said in surprise, "If you can bring a dead Whomping Willow back to life, it shouldn't be difficult to bring a wand back to life—as long as the core of the wand isn't burned."
Seeing this, Ron was overjoyed, scratching his ears and cheeks, and exclaimed with a beaming smile, "I absolutely love Chinese wizards!"
Before he finished speaking, he plunged into the tree hollow. Unexpectedly, after only a few breaths, he crawled out, covered in dust and dirt, looking miserable, and said:
"What bad luck! My wand has grown inside the Whomping Willow!"
After saying this, he punched the willow tree in a fit of rage.
As soon as the punch landed, the ground around the willow tree suddenly trembled violently, as if an earth dragon were turning over.
The roots, as thick as a bowl, burst forth from the soil with a "whoosh," resembling hundreds of black pythons writhing and coiling; the branches, which block out the sky, rustled and contracted, just like ten thousand green snakes returning to their dens.
The giant tree, which originally required five or six men to encircle, has in the blink of an eye shrunk to a length of two zhang (approximately 6.6 meters). A round willow stick, as thick as a large bowl, lies quietly on the ground, faintly glowing with a reddish light.
Upon seeing this scene, everyone was dumbfounded, and no one could close their mouths in disbelief.
Ron paused for a moment, then bent down to pick up the willow stick. But when he clenched his fist, he found it heavy and his hand went numb.
He muttered, panting, "If only it could be a little thinner."
Before the words were even finished, the willow stick seemed to come alive, shrinking three times in an instant to the thickness of a wine glass, its body glowing with a crimson light, as if molten lava and fiery flames were coursing within.
Ron was overjoyed when he saw it and immediately took it in his hand and showed it off. The stick was swung around like a windmill, making a whooshing sound as it cut through the air, and a few wisps of hot air rolled away.
On a whim, he exclaimed, "Small, small, small!"
The stick-shaped fruit was a magical creature; it immediately shrank to the size of an embroidery needle, its bright appearance perfectly concealed within the earlobe.
He shouted again, "Big, big, big!"
As soon as he finished speaking, the stick instantly grew to four or five zhang in length and thickness, standing on the ground like a dragon pillar in front of a palace.
Ron subtly focused his mind, making it as easy to handle as an ordinary staff, and suddenly shouted like thunder.
"Thunderous explosion!"
After the incantation was recited, the staff immediately burst forth with thousands of rays of red light, the red light flowing between the patterns, just like molten lava surging.
He thrust his spear forcefully towards the forbidden forest, shouting, "Go!"
The stick suddenly extended for dozens of feet, striking a ancient tree in the forest. With a loud "boom," the tree trunk, as big as a bowl, instantly shattered into thousands of wood chips, startling the birds in the forest into a chaotic frenzy.
"Harry! This thing is way better than a wand!"
Poems as proof:
A glimmer of inspiration pierced the vast emptiness, and so it was with that walking stick.
Whether long or short, it's up to you; whether horizontal or vertical, it can be rolled up or unrolled as you like.
(End of this chapter)