Hogwarts: Dumbledore reigned over the wizarding world

Chapter 119 Voldemort

He, Ravenclaw's genius, was actually outmaneuvered by a brat in battle!

Before he could retaliate in embarrassment and anger, Hermione shouted again, "Expelliarmus!"

Having learned his lesson, Quirrell wasn't about to give a second thought. He swung his wand with unwavering resolve, and a beam of red light shot from the tip of his wand. But to his astonishment, at the same time, a beam of red light also shot out from Hermione's wand, hurtling towards him at lightning speed!

This time, it's for real!

The Disarming Curse is the fastest of all curses. If not prepared, a wizard often doesn't realize what has happened until he is hit by it.

Therefore, many dueling clubs around the world list the Disarming Charm as a required spell. On the one hand, it is not that powerful, and on the other hand, it tests a wizard's combat skills and ability to adapt to changing situations.

Clearly, Quirrell's adaptability is not high.

Two beams of red light met in the air. The same spell and the same disarming effect created a strange stalemate. They joined together like lightning to form a burst of arcs of light, and specks of red light fell like sparks from welding.

Quirrell's eyes widened, and in the intense flash of light, his face shimmered with the same crimson color, making it impossible to tell whether it was the glow of the light or the rush of blood to his head.

He never expected that a mere little girl could create such a stalemate with him!
His hand gripping the wand trembled with anger and shame, and the confidence and composure that had been on his face just moments before vanished.

It has transformed into this ferocious state!

"Damn it!" he roared, wicked thoughts churning within him along with surging magic power. The red light grew even stronger, and then—

"You've really disappointed me..."

It was a very soft, yet incredibly clear whisper.

Even though Hermione's brain had exhausted all its energy to maintain the spell and had no energy left to pay attention to the outside world, it still received it clearly.

Harry, who was struggling to fend off the statue's counterattack and whose ears were filled with the sounds of stones hitting and rubbing against each other, heard it very clearly!

That was a sound that was hard to describe.

Low, hoarse, and slippery... just listening to it evokes the rustling of bushes swaying in a forbidden forest at night, or the shadow of a venomous snake slowly slithering through a dark corner.

Hermione's pupils trembled with terror, reflecting the image opposite her.

There, the air was distorted and polluted, just as it had been on Halloween night last year. The scene surrounding Quirrell's black robe seemed to be manipulated by some force, twisting and contorting strangely.

A hazy gray color spread from the black robe, from the feet of Chilo, like a pervasive frost across the bridge.

The spell of the stalemate in the air suddenly ended.

It stopped silently, as if it had never existed. All Hermione could see was Quirrell, his hands covering his head, sobbing uncontrollably.
"I'm sorry, Master... I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry..."

He cried out and apologized, his face contorted in pain, almost unrecognizable. He banged his head against the ground as if hoping that smashing his head would expel the tormenting thing inside!
The voice did not restrain his self-harm; it continued to speak slowly and deliberately, in a hoarse, panting voice: "Stupid, useless, not even as good as those filthy rats in the forest, Quirinas... Quirrell... You are as ridiculous as your name!"

“I’m tired of always hearing you apologize, and then when I mercifully give you another chance, you always manage to do worse than before… Fighting back and forth with a little girl, ha…”

With that slick laugh, Hermione saw Quirrell suddenly clutch his head and roll around on the ground.

"No, Master, please spare me, please spare me..."

However, all that answered him was a series of hoarse hissing sounds.

Gradually, Quirrell's voice faded until it was completely silent. What a perfect opportunity! Hermione wanted to move, to take the chance to escape with Harry.

But she found that she couldn't move.

A cold sensation invaded her body, making her limbs stiffen.

My thoughts seemed frozen, unable to generate a single emotion.

It felt like falling into a deep, bottomless abyss, and all I wanted to do was sink into despair.

On the other side, "Kirlo" got up again.

The moment he stood up, the distortion in his vision intensified; everything was elongated and deformed, like water plants swaying eerily at the bottom of a lake.

"Ah--"

He let out a long exhale and turned his back to us...

Do not!
He wasn't looking at her, but at what was behind her, at... Harry!
“Harry… Potter… What an impressive name!” he said softly, waving his hand.

With a wave of her hand, Hermione's stiff limbs suddenly relaxed.

She staggered back a few steps and then bumped into a hard rock.

Turning around, she realized the stone was Harry!

Harry's "Queen," whose face was originally cold, showed a trace of pain. He struggled to move, protecting Hermione who had retreated to his side, and then looked at Quirrell... no, it should be said, the Dark Lord!
"Voldemort!"

Harry gritted his teeth and called out "his" name.

"Ah, you remember me?" Voldemort stood lazily in place, Quirrell's wand lightly between his fingers. He seemed quite pleased that Harry still remembered him. "Yes, it's me, Harry... May I call you Harry?"

“Don’t talk to me in a shell, that’s impolite, Harry.” Voldemort chuckled, still maintaining a relaxed demeanor. “Especially since this shell was given to you by Dumbledore. He loves these fancy things, like the Transfiguration he used on you, and… this space!”

He slowly swept the wand, which was held between his fingers as if it might fall at any moment, across his body, and then a crack appeared in the void in front of him!
Although the wound healed quickly, he still expressed his disdain:

"Showing off skills, but useless!"

He commented, pointing his wand in the distance as he spoke.

Hermione didn't sense any trace of magic, but she clearly saw that as he touched it, the "Queen's" body began to disintegrate.

Large swaths of stone chips collapsed like sand and dust.

"Yes, face me with your true face, Harry. You don't know how long and painful it has been for me for the past eleven years, thinking of you every single day. I was just a shadow, wandering like smoke in the filthy, savage forest."

"Only by clinging to other life forms can I briefly embrace this world. For this, I have to endure the disgust and spend my days with rats and snakes, relying on them to draw life and regain my reason and thoughts as a human being... Harry, every time I chew on the stinking carrion and swallow the disgusting cockroaches, I am calling your name!"

"Harry Potter!"

Harry's "Queen" form completely collapsed, and he reverted to his original form, panting heavily. Hermione helped him up, and he instinctively looked up, trying to see the line of text describing the "Queen" that had been floating in his field of vision.

But even that disappeared at this moment.

The Queen's ascension was a power he couldn't comprehend, and at this moment, Voldemort casually dismissed the power he relied on, a power he couldn't understand.

This was the first time he had ever felt the other party's power so directly.

Hearing Voldemort's last words, Harry felt a chill run down his spine!

From afar, Voldemort, who had been holding back his words for so long, seemed to have released his pent-up frustration. He remained standing in place, urging, "Stop daydreaming, Harry, stand up, take out your wand, and join me in paying tribute to our reunion after 11 years in the way that is proper for wizards!"

"Harry!"

Hermione, who was supporting Harry, shook her head at him repeatedly.

In Hermione's eyes, if Quirrell's strength were like a lake, somewhat murky and unclear, but he could still gain some advantage through his cleverness.

Voldemort's power was absolute darkness, as deep as the abyss, unfathomable and incomprehensible!
There is absolutely no hope of winning!

Harry glanced at Voldemort, then at Hermione, and took a deep breath.

Just as he was about to say something, the narration from the sky began:

"The hero is about to meet his end, the demon king has awakened..."

"Noisy!" Voldemort raised his hand, and a beam of intense light shot into the sky. The narration abruptly stopped under the magic that Harry and Hermione couldn't understand, leaving only a fragmented echo like a radio with a poor signal:

"...A fire dragon...has appeared..."

Roar--

In the distance, the castle began to shake, and a fierce dragon roar came from within.

The next moment, a huge shadow flew into the sky and swooped down.

Harry and Hermione stared blankly at the enormous figure, exuding boundless power, that existed only in legends and a few pictures—

Fire dragon!

It swooped down violently, the air itself scorching at its appearance. Its enormous body, its ferocious appearance, every scale, every contour, all spoke of the brutality and terror of this legendary creature!
But Voldemort clearly didn't see it that way.

The two heard him whisper hoarsely, "Is this your trump card? Dumbledore, trying to guard your Philosopher's Stone with a lizard? Hah..."

……

"Quirinas is gone..."

As Quirrell tumbled to the ground, struggling, and then rose again, Vaughn heard Dumbledore's melancholy sigh from among the clouds.

Vaughn certainly knew why Deng would say that.

In his vision, which shimmered with magical light, he could clearly see that the flickering flame of life belonging to Quirrell on the black-robed man who had risen again below had been completely extinguished.

In the magical vision, any living being should have a colorful aura with a dazzling spectrum.

Even in sudden death, there should be an afterglow.

But at this moment, Quirrell's life force had been replaced by a grayish-white light.

It dwelled within Quirrell's body, devouring all of Quirrell's remaining life spectrum.

"Tom..."

Dumbledore whispered, "This is his true face now, a gray shadow, a void rejected by the world, who has regained a brief sense of existence in this world by taking Quirinus's life."

"But in essence, he still doesn't exist; he's neither alive nor dead!"

Vaughn knew that Dumbledore's words were a warning to him. He had always worried that he would follow in Voldemort's footsteps, greedily and excessively studying forbidden knowledge, and turning himself into something neither human nor monster.

He didn't respond to Dumbledore's hidden thoughts, but simply looked down at Voldemort, watching him casually erase the Transfiguration effect from Harry's body.

The Dark Lord's former glory when he was alive can still be faintly seen!

But Vaughn just watched calmly and asked, "How long can he maintain this state?"

“I don’t know either,” Dumbledore answered honestly. “I have never made a Horcrux. Such vicious magic is difficult to understand without firsthand experience… but I suspect it won’t last long. If Quirinus’s lifespan could sustain him for a long time, he certainly wouldn’t have lasted this long.”

He sighed, "Tom has never been a patient man. To be honest, I'm quite surprised that he's been able to tolerate Quirinas until now."

Vaughn wasn't familiar with the Dark Lord's style, but he clearly saw what had just happened: "If Quirrell hadn't been so enraged that he wanted to kill Hermione and Harry, he probably would have continued to endure it."

"Yes... Tom doesn't want Quirinas to kill Harry!"

"Dumbledore murmured."

As he spoke, standing far away in the clouds, controlling the smoke screen, he once again unleashed a powerful surge of magical energy.

The air trembled, countless symbols flashed like stars, and the once calmly spreading smoke suddenly began to churn.

Then, Vaughn noticed that the world behind the smokescreen had changed.

Or rather, the smoke revealed the scene below that was originally inaccessible.

Those were countless dense threads, which pierced through the air, the soil, and all things, connecting and linking with each other to form a huge, indistinct "net" that covered everything!
"The Web of Fate!"

Vaughn couldn't help but take a few steps forward, standing at the edge of the magic carpet, looking through the smoke at the giant "net" slowly emerging between the sky and the earth below.

Of course, Vaughn knew that the so-called "web" did not mean that the objective entity of fate was the shape of a web.

This network is how Dumbledore, according to his plan, indirectly "depicted" it by completely controlling everything within the small world and monitoring changes in matter and energy.

Wherever they go, they leave a trace.

Just as Dumbledore showed Vaughn the "variables" of fate back in the Forbidden Forest, there is nothing in the world that can be completely detached from all things and yet exert influence over them.

The forces that influence things will inevitably leave traces because of the "influence" they exert. These traces are difficult to observe in the real world because there are too many and too complex variables, and no one can truly control reality.

Only in a "world" entirely constructed from alchemy and alchemical symbols can the creator leave a "backdoor" to monitor in real time changes in matter (energy), anomalies in the operation of symbols, and disturbances in the entire world system...

By compiling this information, we can indirectly reveal the trajectory of fate!
This was a plan that Vaughn had conceived long ago, when he first learned of the existence of destiny, but he had not put it into action for many years due to his own lack of power!
"Yes, the Web of Fate, Vaughn, your design has succeeded..." Dumbledore's murmurs echoed from all directions.

At this moment, he has become part of the operation of this "world," and can be said to be omnipresent.

However, even if a human being were to forcibly control a "world," even if that world were only 50 miles in diameter (about 80 kilometers), as insignificant as dust compared to a real planet, the complex information feedback involved would still be beyond the processing capacity of the human brain.

Vaughn could hear the weariness in Dumbledore's voice.

"Albus, are you alright?"

"We can still hold on... Vaughn, keep an eye on Harry and Tom!"

Vaughn looked over upon hearing the sound.

Even though the world was filled with faintly visible threads, the fates of Harry and Voldemort were still reflected in Vaughn's eyes in the most conspicuous way.

It was a huge vortex made up of countless threads!
Standing on the covered bridge, the two figures, seemingly facing each other, were covered in faint threads, just like everything else around them. But unlike the others, these threads were wriggling, moving, and intertwining, propelled by some invisible force, like an ocean being pushed by an undercurrent, forming a distinct vortex with no visible boundaries, seemingly extending into the void.

Everything around them was caught in a whirlpool.

The closer you get to the two of them, the more tangled things become!
Vaughn heard Dumbledore's voice grow serious: "See? What a fierce clash! Their destinies are almost intertwined. Whenever they meet, everything around them is uncontrollably drawn into the vortex of their fates."

"Including themselves... Tom was influenced by fate, so when Quirinas truly intended to kill Harry, Tom immediately killed him, because at that moment in Tom's heart, no one but himself had the right to kill Harry. This had nothing to do with Tom's character, but was the decision of fate!"

Vaughn remained silent, listening attentively.

For a fleeting moment, he had the idea of ​​casting a Fiendish Flame spell on the Dark Lord and the Savior, to see how fate would save them.
However, it's just a thought; Hermione is still there!

Moreover, Vaughn was unsure of the consequences of his rash intervention in fate, and until he had sufficient certainty, he preferred to remain calm and wait for the right moment to act.
Thinking it over, he looked away:

"Albus, let Noberta out. Harry is no match for Tom, and it's time for the next experiment!"

The next experiment is called Time!
The appearance of the fire dragon did not stir any ripples in Voldemort's mind.

Even though he is now down on his luck, has lost his physical form, and lingers in the world like a lowly shadow, he is still a legendary wizard who was once the Dark Lord and was on par with Dumbledore.

In his eyes, the tiny fire dragon was indeed no different from a lizard!
The fire dragon swooped down, its huge membranous wings fanning out a fierce wind, and dust swept across the covered bridge like a sandstorm, making people's eyes go blind.

But Voldemort just watched quietly as it swooped down to within 60 feet, as it swung its long neck and opened its mouth wide.

Suck--

A visible stream of air flew into the dragon's mouth.

Its enormous, originally emaciated body had swelled up.

At the neck, the scales were stretched taut, and beneath the exposed translucent skin, rings of red light rapidly gathered towards the throat. The next instant—

call--

A burst of plasma flames surged forth, leaping over the stunned Hermione and Harry, and spraying towards Voldemort, engulfing him and everything around him!
The severed limbs of the stone statues on the ground were almost instantly dispersed by the flames, and the stone bridge surface turned crimson, shattered, and peeled away at a speed visible to the naked eye.

Countless scorched fragments were swept into the air by the force of the flames, leaving a trail of blazing red smoke in their wake.

A terrifying supernatural force unleashed its power in the most violent way.

Harry and Hermione didn't realize until several seconds later that they had activated the Iron Mantra, not to fight the dragon, but to protect themselves from the lava splashing from its breath.

Yes, that covered bridge was completely burned down!
After an unknown amount of time, the fire dragon finally stopped.

Harry's eyes widened as he stared at the billowing smoke and the faintly reddish glow of the bridge surface, a look of surprise and delight creeping onto his face.

"Burned like this, Voldemort should be dead, right?"

But when he asked her, Hermione shook her head. She didn't say anything, but pointed to the fire dragon that had suddenly appeared and attacked Voldemort.

Harry looked in that direction and saw the fire dragon that had just unleashed a powerful breath attack, its sharp eyes still fixed on the area that had become a pool of lava.

It seems like they're... on guard?
Soon, Harry spotted the object of its suspicion—

As the thick, billowing smoke began to thin, a human figure kneeling on one knee in the lava came back into their view.

The humanoid figure, like the ground beneath its feet, had been scorched into a state of magma. The air, distorted by the high temperature, surrounded it, and everywhere there were crackling sounds as the flames receded and cooled rapidly.

The humanoid figure moved.

He slowly raised his head in that hellish scene, and countless crimson fragments peeled off his body, revealing the dim magical radiance flowing beneath his outer shell.

"A boring little trick..."

Voldemort's hoarse voice rang in my ears again.

He stood up, and at the same time, Harry heard another gasp.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the fire dragon's body swell up again, with red lines flowing beneath its scales and gathering towards its throat.

Just as Harry was watching Voldemort expectantly, anticipating the dragon's breath to engulf him once again...

He saw Voldemort lazily raise his wand.

No!

We mustn't let him cast the spell!

Harry said to himself.

He suddenly drew his wand, pointed it at Voldemort, and shouted, "Except for you—"

boom!
Harry didn't see what happened at all; he only felt a blur before his eyes and was suddenly lifted into the air.

"Harry! Harry's flying here!"

Hermione screamed the spell, and Harry's perspective suddenly flipped and reversed. He saw Voldemort doing something, and the dragon's neck, which was preparing to breathe fire, suddenly exploded, scales and flesh turned inside out, and hot, magma-like blood gushed out.

The next moment, he fell to the ground, breaking out in a cold sweat—only then did he realize that he had landed almost on the edge of the covered bridge. One could imagine that if Hermione hadn't just pulled him back with the Summoning Charm, he would have already fallen.

Harry turned around with a look of horror still in his eyes.

On the other side, Voldemort slowly emerged from the lava, the hem of his robe ablaze with fire, and his shoes burned to ashes.

But he walked out barefoot, step by step, through the crimson ground.

Amidst the distorted light and shadow caused by the high temperature, Harry heard his praise: "Beautiful Spell, little girl. I've heard Quirrell mention your name before, Hermione Granger? A Mudblood who seems to be a little clever. Besides you, there's another student from the Weasley family named Vaughn... That good-for-nothing Quirrell is impressed with you both and always tries to make me remember you."

"it's a pity……"

Stepping on the flowing flames, he arrived in front of Harry and Hermione, looking down at the stunned Harry and the wary Hermione who stood protectively in front of Harry. "I wish I could play with you a little longer, Harry, and Granger, if only I had more time, if only I wasn't just a shadow..."

"Now, please wait a moment while I get the Philosopher's Stone. I need it to make the Elixir of Immortality. Once I'm resurrected, Harry, I'll give you my proper greetings."

The next second, amidst the scorching heat, his figure twisted and disappeared, and in the blink of an eye, he appeared before the wailing fire dragon.

"Let me see where Dumbledore hid the Philosopher's Stone?"

He casually raised his wand:

"Imperio!" (Astral projection)

The moment he heard the spell, Harry's eyes widened, and he instinctively raised his wand, wanting to cast a spell to stop it.

Hermione, standing beside him, was about to unleash a burst of red light from the tip of her staff.

Since witnessing the Killing Curse on Halloween night, Harry and Hermione have learned about this kind of terrifying curse through various means.

The incantation for the soul to leave the body!
This dark magic, which has no counter-curse, was widely abused more than a decade ago during Voldemort's reign, to the point that many Death Eaters used the excuse of being afflicted by the Imperius Curse to escape trial after the war.

The History of Magic clearly records this history, and the spells were also seen by the two of them in the History of Magic. Of course, it did not teach how to learn them.

But the two were well aware of its effects.

If that dragon was indeed used by Dumbledore to guard the Philosopher's Stone, then it must have known where the Stone was, and if it were controlled by the Imperius Curse...

Voldemort must be stopped!
But their actions couldn't change the fact that Voldemort had already used the Unforgivable Curse. Time seemed to slow down at that moment. Harry watched as a spell shot out from the tip of Voldemort's wand, while his and Hermione's spells hadn't even taken shape yet.

His eyes widened in horror, his expression frozen in place.

Then he saw the fire dragon, which Voldemort had casually injured, struggling to reach its front paws up to its neck.

It was only then that Harry noticed that the dragon was wearing a golden necklace, which shimmered with a golden luster against its dark scales.

It was just because it was too small, and the fire dragon's previous appearance was so grand, that no one noticed it.

Harry saw the dragon's enormous claws clumsily flicking the hourglass-shaped pendant of the necklace.

Shocked, surprised, and bewildered!
When the dragon moved the pendant, all sorts of emotions overwhelmed Harry's consciousness.

He stared blankly at what was in front of him, and at his surroundings.

As the pendant was moved, everything around him began to rewind, like a videotape playing in reverse.

Voldemort, barefoot, stepped out of the lava and retreated back into it. His burned shoes and robes reappeared on his body until he was encased in stone and flames rained down from the sky.

The dragon's ferocious breath also presented a bizarre scene; it first appeared on the covered bridge, and then slowly retreated back into the dragon's open mouth.

The thick smoke and bursts of flame from the burning resembled a swarm of bees, densely surrounding the scorched area before quickly returning to the covered bridge.

Immediately afterwards, the flames were swallowed into the dragon's mouth, and Voldemort was restored to his neat black robes. The fire dragon flew back into the air, letting out a deafening roar.

Harry, who was completely out of control throughout the process, blinked and tentatively reached out his hand. Hermione beside him did the same.

"Hermione, you..."

“Harry…”

The two looked at each other, their minds still reeling from the shock, neither knowing how to react.

what happened?

what happened?
"Time has reversed!" Hermione exclaimed suddenly, her wide eyes fixed on the fire dragon, which hovered in the air but no longer swooped down or breathed its fire. "That dragon... it reversed time back a few minutes..."

"Uh……"

……

At the same moment, Vaughn, who was in mid-air, also reached out and wiggled his fingers.

He had never used a time converter in the real world, nor had he ever truly experienced time travel—time travel doesn't count—this was his first time experiencing time in every sense!
"It's amazing..."

He turned to look around.

As far as he knew, time travel in reality would involve encountering one's past self, but he didn't see that here.

He looked at Dumbledore thoughtfully: "You modified the mechanism of the Time-Turner?"

"Yes, kid."

Still controlling the smokescreen and monitoring the fate of Harry and Voldemort, Dumbledore replied softly, "The original Time-Turner, using the area enclosed by the gold chain as a spacetime barrier, works on the same principle as your previous description of spacetime—an independent spacetime bubble."

"It doesn't have the ability to reverse time in reality; it can only use time bubbles to travel through the cracks in time and send people back to the past. But in this 'world,' with my help, time can be reversed..."

Vaughn pondered for a moment, then asked, "What would happen if it kept flowing backward?"

Knowing the reason behind his question, Dumbledore replied humorously, "We will return to the beginning of creation, my dear."

Vaughn nodded, watching as the dragon Norbert soared and tumbled within the massive vortex of fate between Harry and Voldemort below.

After a moment, he chuckled softly, “My guess was right. In a small world independent of reality, the past can be changed. It seems that time and fate in reality were not always in the current pattern.”

"...Yes, although I'm reluctant to accept it, your theory does seem to be correct..."

Dumbledore hesitated for a moment, then asked, "So, did an observer really exist in the real world? Was it someone who established the rules of our spacetime, changing the past, present, and future?"

(End of this chapter)