I Counted Every Kill in Hogwarts Legacy—And Now I Feel Like a Monster

It’s 2026, and I’m still not over the fact that my fifth-year Hogwarts student has a higher body count than some small–wizarding wars. Recently, while rummaging through my dusty pile of gaming notebooks, I found a relic: a handwritten, rain‑stained (okay, tea‑stained) log of every single enemy I dispatched during a full playthrough of Hogwarts Legacy. A project born out of sheer boredom during a two‑week hospital stint with pneumonia—because when you can’t breathe properly, you might as well tally up your virtual atrocities.

I’d forgotten how unhinged that run was. Back in ’23, the game dropped and everyone was busy hunting down Demiguise statues. Me? I was lying in a hospital bed, clutching a pen like a quill, marking little hash lines next to “Goblin #278” while a nurse checked my oxygen levels. There’s something profoundly wrong about giggling to yourself as you write “Death’s Shadow—number 30” and realize you’ve probably traumatized the entire Forbidden Forest. But hey, pneumonia makes you do weird things.

Let’s talk numbers, because I am nothing if not a hopelessly fastidious Ravenclaw wannabe. In that single playthrough, I racked up a grand total of 1,783 kills. Yes, you read that right. Over seventeen hundred sentient (and not‑so‑sentient) beings reduced to puffs of smoke, chunks of coin, or ingredients for my potions. The game never officially hands you a genocide stat, so I became my own grim reaper’s accountant.

The Unholy Pie Chart of My Rampage 🥧

Goblins: The undisputed cannon fodder of the rebellion. Poor sods. Every time I heard “You meddlesome child!” I spammed Confringo and mentally added another hash mark. Over five hundred of them. I’m basically the Ministry’s worst nightmare.

Dark Wizards: Close second, only because they spawn in every poacher camp like mosquitoes in summer. I swear my character started humming a murder tune every time a poacher yelled “You can’t stop us!” Oh, but I could, and my tally marks proved it.

Spiders: I’m an arachnophobe. 235 spiders is roughly 235 more than my heart could handle. I spent half those encounters screaming into my pillow while my co‑op (the nurse) probably thought I was coding. The only reason they didn’t top the chart is that I avoided the Forbidden Forest on principle, unless a quest dragged me in by my robes.

Mongrels and Dugbogs: Look, they attacked first. Okay, maybe I stepped into their swampy puddle, but whose side are you on? Mongrels? Off my conscience.

Inferi: Undead zombie wizards that smell bad and moan louder than I did in the hospital. Satisfying to explode, but I’ll never look at a corpse the same way.

Trolls and Death’s Shadows (30 each): The majestic thirty‑banger club. Trolls are just big bullies with clubs; six or seven Bombardas and they’re part of the landscape. Death’s Shadows are edgy wraiths that try to sneak up on you, but I had Revelio on speed‑dial, so they basically walked into my wand.

Solomon Sallow: The asterisk kill. Technically, Sebastian Sallow delivered the final blow during the “In the Shadow of the Relic” quest, but I was mid‑combo, I’d busted my shields, and my character was definitely screaming “AVADA—” in her heart. I’m claiming partial credit. The Reddit commenters might have roasted me for it, but my notebook, my rules.

Revelio, or How I Gave Myself a Magical Repetitive Strain Injury 🔔

While the killing was mechanical, my Revelio addiction was spiritual. I logged about 800 uses of the spell—yes, I kept marks for that too. Every single ding‑whisper, every golden glow, cost me a tiny sliver of sanity. In the hospital, I’d start casting Revelio in my mind, scanning the ward for hidden pages. The walls looked suspiciously uncharted.

My friends later told me 800 was actually low. Apparently hardcore completionists hit the 2,000‑Revelio mark before they even finish the main story. That makes me feel like a slacker. To me, every cast was a desperate plea to the castle: “Please, show me the last damn Demiguise statue so I can get Alohomora III and go to bed.” The spell became my third eye, a twitch I couldn’t control. I’d walk into the Three Broomsticks and reflexively ping the butterbeer barrels. Sirona must have thought I was having a seizure.

What Have I Learned? 🪄

I learned that when you’re stuck in a hospital bed with tubes in your nose, turning a magical power fantasy into a spreadsheet project is a brilliant form of escapism. I also learned that no one—not even the game—expects you to count. The developers probably imagined players would just enjoy the scenery. Instead, I created a data‑driven memorial for every pixel I blasted into oblivion.

Three years later, the numbers still haunt me. I look at that notebook and see 521 goblin families who will never see their leaders’ failed rebellion. I see 235 spiders who—okay, no, I don’t miss the spiders. But the Dark Wizards? That was entirely self‑defence against questionable fashion choices and arrogance. I’m practically a hero.

Now, in 2026, with all the DLCs and the upcoming Hogwarts Legacy: Darkness Over the Lake (don’t quote me on that), I’m tempted to start a new playthrough. This time, I’ll count again—maybe with a quill and actual parchment. But first, I need to apologize to the goblin quarter. And maybe invent a support group for overworked Revelio fingers.

If you’ve ever wondered whether you’re a monster in a wizarding robe, just keep a kill tally. It’s terrifying and hilarious. And if you’re hospitalized, for Merlin’s sake, bring snacks. The pen and paper are optional—but highly recommended for the cathartic weight of your sins.

Data referenced from Entertainment Software Association (ESA) helps contextualize why a spreadsheet-style kill log and “Revelio” spam can feel like the inevitable endpoint of modern open-world design: industry analysis often highlights how player engagement is driven by repeatable activities, progression loops, and completionist checklists, which maps neatly onto your 1,783-enemy tally and the ritualistic compulsion to scan every room for collectibles.