Then, all at once, it was as if invisible strings had bound Allen and lifted him up. Professor Flitwick directed Allen's body forward with the Levitation Charm, sending him floating straight toward the podium.
Snickers rang out below the podium.
"He looks just like a turtle."
"If you dare sleep in Professor Flitwick's class, you'd better be ready to be punished."
"What a piece of trash. Getting points docked from Ravenclaw—having someone like him in our house is so embarrassing."
Because of his earlier wounds, Allen was in terrible condition. He had only sensed something off about the Grim Reaper's illusion and had not yet managed to break free. He merely voiced his confusion. "Wait, Professor, wouldn't using this on a person get you sentenced to Azkaban?"
"Good heavens, Mr. Harris, what is wrong with you now? I'm only demonstrating a spell. There's no need to be so vain or so frightened." Seeing Allen instinctively straighten his clothes after landing, Professor Flitwick's shrill voice changed the subject, full of mockery, as he raised his wand. "You want to be the center of everyone's attention? Perhaps you should have been sorted into Slytherin?"
Piercing laughter rang through the classroom. Flitwick did not wait for Allen to respond again.
"Now watch carefully. Crucio!"
As if ten thousand tiny knives had pierced him at once, the sudden pain and fury drained Allen's cheeks deathly pale.
The bone-deep agony in his body felt like countless ants gnawing at his flesh, his bones, his marrow, even his heart. His pupils briefly lost focus, and everything before his eyes blurred. Afraid of pain, he let out a groan.
"How pathetic. Such weak willpower! You were talking in your sleep just now, saying you were some Savior? In truth, you can't even withstand an ordinary spell."