The Return to Hogwarts

Chapter 858 A Battle Against Death

2024-04-12

The earth was in disarray, as if it had been overturned by an iron fence. The withered shrubs and spruces that had been revitalized by the emerald light were once again scorched by the thunder and black mist. The air had cleared up, but the invisible, evil, and angry magic had not faded and was still poised to strike.

The Death Eaters trembled with fear, knowing full well how terrifying the Dark Lord's wrath could be; expecting him to show any mercy in this situation was pure fantasy.

No one dared to ask about the situation; only the Dark Lord himself probably knew the truth about that altar.

"Before Voldemort's power, all schemes and tricks are useless."

Voldemort spoke softly, not intending to explain, but merely trying to cover it up, and then he finally looked at Harry.

The final moment arrived, and Harry knew it. He breathed a sigh of relief; with Voldemort watching, Blink Dagger had no chance to take him away, which was for the best.

Harry slowly bent down, picked up the wand that had fallen to the ground, and stared at Voldemort with his hateful green eyes.

"So you were prepared, Potter?"

Voldemort approached slowly, chuckled softly, and said to his Death Eaters,

"I think you've all seen how foolish it is to think this boy is stronger than me. Now, I'm going to completely dispel that misconception in your minds. Harry Potter's escape from me was pure luck. This is the final act of Voldemort's resurrection ceremony. I will kill him to prove my power, right here and now, in front of you."

There's no Dumbledore or Blaine to protect him here, and no mother to sacrifice for him. Come on, Potter, I see you with your wand. Let the Death Eaters see it, let them see your corpse, so they won't doubt who's truly stronger.

A bead of sweat slid down Lucius Malfoy's temple, and his heart clenched.

If Harry Potter also dies here, is Blaine really confident that he and the frail Dumbledore can fight off the Dark Lord?

Looking at the pale-faced boy walking down from the ruins with his wand in hand, Lucius had to admit that Harry Potter's courage was admirable. The calm demeanor of an underage boy facing death was undoubtedly very tragic.

Lucius knew Harry Potter a little better than anyone else. He had been asking his son about Harry's situation at school, and he knew very well that he was just a reckless boy with no brains. But now, he sincerely hoped that Harry Potter could show some magical abilities.

A heavy, solemn weight pressed down on everyone's hearts. Harry staggered as he approached the body that Barty Crouch Jr. had moved to the tombstone. He stood beside Ron and Hermione, who lay side by side on the ground. He glanced one last time at his two friends, whose eyes had lost their luster, took a deep breath, and then fixed his resolute gaze on Voldemort.

The Death Eaters formed a large circle, surrounding Voldemort and Harry, awaiting the outcome of this duel that was both ridiculous and solemn.

"You've studied dueling, haven't you, Harry Potter?"

Voldemort's red eyes gleamed in the darkness.

Hearing this, Harry thought of Professor Blaine. He had studied formal dueling with this remarkable wizard for over a year, and he knew how much he had improved. He dared to say that he could now beat ten of his former self before taking the course. But it was no use.

Professor Blaine could withstand one of Dumbledore's spells in his fifth year, but he couldn't fight Voldemort at that age.

“Let’s bow to each other, Harry,”

Voldemort bowed slightly, but his snake-like face remained fixed on Harry.

“Come on, etiquette must be observed. Dumbledore and Blaine will certainly expect you to behave with good manners. Bow to Death, Harry.”

Harry didn't move; his emerald eyes burned with fury. He could die, but he wouldn't tolerate being toyed with.

"I said, I'll bow."

Voldemort calmly raised his wand—Harry felt a jolt in his spine, and the same gravitational current that had oppressed Hermione and Ron before their deaths reappeared. He had no chance to resist and couldn't even see where the attack was coming from.

Harry resolved to use at least one spell—for his parents who had sacrificed themselves to save his life, for Ron and Hermione who had been by his side all along, for Professor Blaine who had always taught him, for Sirius Black's twelve years in prison, for Remus's years of wandering, for Hagrid, and for Dumbledore.

“Very well,” Voldemort said softly, raising his wand, and the pressure on Harry’s back disappeared. “Now—let’s duel.”

Harry could tell that even setting aside his unfathomable magical power, Voldemort was a master of dueling skills.

The instant Voldemort's words fell, Harry caught a glimpse of Voldemort's wand leaving an afterimage.

He wouldn't kill himself so easily; he would torture himself first, watching himself show pain, proving how weak he was in front of him—anticipating his opponent's attack intentions!

Harry jerked his wand up, but his magical barrier shattered in the deafening blast of air. The force of the blast swept Harry away, sending him flying. His back slammed heavily against a tree stump.

Strangely, the force was like being hit by a speeding car and thrown against a wall. Normally, he would be unconscious, which would be the least of his worries; severe injuries and vomiting blood would be quite normal. Yet, such a heavy blow didn't cause him any pain, only—

A trace of crimson appeared at the corner of her mouth. It didn't come from her throat; she had just bitten her tongue.

"Oh, looks like you've learned something real. This can add some fun for us."

When the smoke cleared, Voldemort saw Harry, coughing and covered in soot, spitting blood as he struggled to his feet. A gleam of pleasure flashed in Voldemort's red eyes, clouded with gloom from his failed attack.

"Need a break, Harry? Or do you want to do it again?"

Harry didn't answer; his head was spinning. This wasn't from the impact, but from Voldemort's violent destruction of his magic, which caused a violent upheaval in the magic within him.

"I'm asking you if you want to do it again," Voldemort said softly. "Answer me, your soul leaves your body!"

Harry instinctively dodged, but his blurred vision caused him to misjudge the situation, and his body froze on the spot. He had experienced this feeling many times in class; it was the Imperius Curse, and he had been hit!

Fear and anger seemed to have faded away, and a feeling of happiness clouded Harry's thoughts, as if he were in a dream. He knew it was a dream, but it was such a beautiful dream that he didn't want to leave it.

Say "no".

A dreamlike voice persuaded him

"I won't speak," a more powerful voice deep within his mind said, "I won't answer."

Say 'no'.

I will not speak, I will not answer.

Say 'no'.

"I will not say!"

The words burst from Harry's mouth and echoed in the graveyard, and the dreamlike state vanished abruptly, as if a bucket of cold water had been poured over his head.

"You're not going to tell me?"

Voldemort said softly.

"You won't say 'no'? Harry, I'm going to teach you a little more about the virtue of obedience. Maybe, a little more pain?"

Once he regained his senses, Harry lunged behind a marble tombstone before Voldemort's wand could explode.

“We’re not playing hide-and-seek, Harry,”

Voldemort smiled coldly.

"You know you can't dodge me, does that mean you're tired of our duel? If so, I can end it. So, as you wish."

Harry knew that Voldemort could immobilize him at any moment, and if that happened, he wouldn't be able to use a single counter-spell. He absolutely did not want to die without ever launching an attack!

"Avada Kedavra!"

The instant Harry emerged from behind the tombstone, Voldemort swung his wand down from above, a dazzling green light forming a barrier that shot toward Harry with lightning speed. Before being struck by the deathly magic, Harry stopped in his tracks, his emerald eyes gleaming with fearless brilliance.

"Let it all end," Harry thought.

"Except your weapons!"

The red lightning surged towards the green light.

Chapter 859 A bright future

2024-04-13

At noon, the bright sunlight finally broke through the thick clouds, and golden threads pierced through the gaps in the clouds, casting their light on the earth and enveloping Harry and Voldemort, who were engaged in a fateful duel.

The Death Eaters thought it was just sunlight. But they soon discovered that it wasn't like that at all!

I don't think I disappointed those people, right?

In the instant the aurora-like, ghastly green barrier touched the red electric lock, Harry thought wearily that he had not groveled before Voldemort, nor had he shown a trace of weakness; he had bravely launched an attack. He was not a coward, unlike someone like Peter Pettigrew.

Harry awaited death, a death he awaited with a calm that bordered on numbness. He even felt a little joy, knowing he would finally see Hermione and Ron again. He hoped they would wait for him and not go too far.

But what happened?

Harry suddenly found his wand vibrating as if it were electrified, and he gripped it tightly, unable to let go even if he wanted to.

Harry's eyes widened. He didn't know when, but the green light emanating from Voldemort's wand had disappeared, as had the red lightning bolts emanating from the tip of his wand. The connection between him and Voldemort's wand had transformed into a thin beam of light, an incredibly dazzling gold.

Harry's gaze followed the golden beam of light into the distance, where he saw Voldemort's pale, slender fingers also gripping a trembling wand, his snake-like face, almost transparent in the golden light, filled with panic.

Then, completely unexpectedly, Harry felt his feet leave the ground, as did Voldemort's, their wands still connected by the shimmering golden thread. They continued to fly upwards, until they were taller than the tallest spruce in the cemetery.

The Death Eaters were stunned. They cried out and begged Voldemort for instructions. Some of the bolder ones, like Barty Crouch Jr., were also there.

He was so worried about Voldemort's safety that he fired a spell at Harry without asking permission. However, before the spell hit Harry, the golden thread connecting him and Voldemort suddenly broke, but the two wands remained tightly connected. The golden thread exploded into thousands of finer, arc-shaped golden threads, which formed a net that deflected Barty Jr.'s Killing Curse.

This scene left the Death Eaters even more bewildered, and Lucius Malfoy, watching this, silently underwent a change in his pale face.

"Do not move!"

Voldemort shouted at the Death Eaters, and Harry saw his red eyes widen in astonishment, clearly shocked by what was happening before him—something beyond his comprehension of magic.

Suddenly, celestial music filled the air. It emanated from every golden thread of the vibrating net of light surrounding Harry and Voldemort. Harry recognized the sound, though he had only heard it once before. It was the song of Fawkes, the phoenix!

Do not disconnect!

The music not only reached Harry's ears but also his heart. An image of a sprightly old man, Professor Dumbledore, unconsciously appeared before his eyes, as if he were there to give him instructions.

Faced with the voice's demand, Harry hesitated. He knew the situation seemed advantageous to him, but he was already prepared to die.

As Harry hesitated, his wand began to vibrate more violently, and the golden thread connecting him and Voldemort changed, as if large beads of light were sliding along the thread. Harry's hand trembled slightly, and the beads of light moved closer to him, while the frequency of his wand's vibrations increased.

Harry instinctively gripped his wand tighter, then he saw Voldemort seem to relax as the pressure lessened. This fueled a surge of anger within Harry that threatened to overwhelm him!