Harry Potter and the Secret Treasures

Chapter 163: Death in fire

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Although Aragog said so, Ivan hesitated.

He was not stupid enough to believe the words of an acromander. As a highly intelligent creature, honesty and trustworthiness have never been synonymous with an acromander; Vicious dark creatures.

Even though Aragog is Hagrid's pet, this can only guarantee that it has some affection for Hagrid, and it doesn't care about the life or death of other humans! It can be seen from Aragog's order to kill them without hesitation just now.

Aiwen hesitated. If possible, he hoped to take Aragog away together. As long as he left the territory of the acromantula and the forbidden forest, he would not be afraid of the other party's dishonesty.

But Aragog's body is too huge, those eight seemingly thick spider legs can't support its own weight at all, if it leaves this spider web, it can't even move.

"Shrink quickly!" Ivan whispered, he was trying this magic.

This is what students are required to master in the ne.ts Ultimate Wizarding Level Examination. Ivan once saw Professor Flitwick use this spell to shrink a spider. He tried to use it on Aragog. If he can shrink it, then All is well.

I don't know if it's because I haven't mastered the spell casting skills, or Aragog is immune to this spell. Anyway, his magic didn't work.

Seeing what Ivan was doing, the spiders around the depression made an angry clicking sound, and countless pairs of eyes full of hatred shone on those ugly black heads.

"Hagrid's friend" Aragog said with obvious resentment in his voice, "Don't make any more useless attempts, out of respect for Hagrid, I won't hurt you, but don't come here to disturb us again, we spiders I like darkness and silence!"

"Well, I hope you can keep your word!" Ivan tried a few more spells, but none of them worked. It seems that in addition to the powerful attack magic, Aragog's hard carapace and huge body make it Immune to most spells.

I can't delay any longer. It's night now, and no one knows I'm here. Rescue in the castle can't be reached in a short time, and Peter Pettigrew's condition seems to be getting worse and worse. His simple bandage on his right hand can't stop him. Oozing of blood.

The continuous tossing and tossing has consumed too much of his energy. Judging by his appearance, I'm afraid he won't be able to hold on for long.

Ivan slipped from the hemispherical spider web, he stepped back, the wand in his hand was still pointing at Aragog, and he slowly retreated to Peter Pettigrew.

"Thank you, Ivan, you saved me, and I will repay you." Peter Pettigrew grabbed Ivan's robe and said weakly.

This sentence did not make people happy at all. If there were no accidents, Peter Pettigrew should spend the rest of his life in the wizard prison of Azkaban forever. He didn't expect the other party to repay him, and he didn't even want to see him again.

Peter Pettigrew struggled to stand up, but his legs were extremely weak. He just stood halfway and fell down immediately, falling heavily to the ground.

"Aiwen, Aiwen, I have no strength, help me, don't leave me here alone," Peter Pettigrew said in panic.

"Shut up! Keep your dirty hands away from my robe!" Ivan frowned, seeing the blood of Peter Pettigrew on the hem of his black school uniform, he waved his wand lightly, and muttered, "Phantom Apparatus!"

It seemed that there were invisible ropes tied around Peter Pettigrew's wrists, neck and knees, and he was slowly pulled up from the ground into a standing posture, his body still hanging down unpleasantly, like a grotesque puppet.

His feet were a few inches off the ground, and they dangled limply.

"Don't use too much force, if you break free from the control of this magic, I won't bother you anymore!" Ivan warned, and he felt weak all over his body.

There were so many things that happened tonight, he just wanted to go back and sleep well.

Surrounded by hundreds of huge acromantia, Ivan slowly left the depression with Pettigrew Peter, and he noticed that the number of spiders around him seemed to be increasing.

After getting the news, the spiders who were foraging outside are gradually coming back.

They were densely packed together, making a scalp-numbing clicking sound, and their murderous black eyes were fixed on Ivan and Pettigrew Peter, and Ivan could even hear the sound similar to swallowing saliva.

Fresh human flesh is too tempting for them.

Fortunately, they all obeyed Aragog's order and did not attack.

In the middle of the depression, Aragog was still on the misty giant spider web, his big pincers slowly opened and closed, and it seemed to be staring at Aiwen closely, and the eight eyes covered by white clouds seemed to be Can clearly see Ivan's every move.

Then, it began to retreat slowly one after another, retreating into his lair.

In the slope of the depression, the road leading to it is completely filled with other acromantulas.

Ivan took Peter Pettigrew out of the depression, and they climbed up to the edge of the wide depression. He saw the trees again, and Aragog and the other acromantulas were disappearing from his eyes.

Just as Ivan breathed a sigh of relief, he heard Aragog's low clicking sound coming from the depths of that bottomless lair.

"Kill them!"

Hearing Aragog's order, all the acromantula immediately became irritable, and they couldn't wait to rush up.

Like a raging black river, with a roar of death, it rushed straight to Aiwen.

"Damn it, this old guy is really dishonest!" Ivan didn't have time to think about it, and while Peter Pettigrew screamed loudly, he hurriedly pointed his wand at the leaves on the ground and shouted, "The flames are raging!"

A red flame shot from the end of his wand, instantly igniting the yellow, dry leaves.

After more than fifty years of accumulation by the giant eight-eyed spiders, no one knows how many leaves there are in this depression. They are piled up layer by layer, constantly drying up, corroding, and dissipating, leaving some grassy fibers that are very easy to burn.

Under the influence of these leaves, Ivan's magic achieved amazing results.

Aragog's lair, the sacred place of the acromantula, turned into a blazing fire pit in an instant, and the shocking flames were twenty feet high.

An astonishing heat wave came head-on, and the acromantula in the depression made a shrill sound.

It wasn't the usual rattling sound, but a scream from the depths of the soul.

Peter Pettigrew looked pale at what was happening in front of him, looking at hundreds of acromantulas burned to death by the fire, he suddenly felt from the thin black-haired boy in front of him that he was as exciting as the Dark Lord. Fear, horror temperament.

At this moment, Ivan is the god of death! (.)