Hogwarts: From Luna's House to Godhood Through Intense Competition

Vizet clenched his fist. "I should make my move too."

He sensed through the Parseltongue whistle that Harry had finally stopped moving and was staying in the Great Hall of Secrets.

-------------------------------------

Harry woke up from his coma and looked around blankly.

It was a spacious, dimly lit hall. Through the surrounding hazy green light, he could vaguely see the distant firelight and a figure approaching.

"Hiss..." he cried out in pain, feeling a burning sensation from the scar.

He had experienced this feeling once before, during the previous school year.

"What's wrong?" a gentle voice asked.

Harry looked in the direction of the sound and was then put on glasses.

A young man appeared before him. He was very tall and surrounded by a halo, giving him an ethereal appearance.

"Who are you?" he asked warily. "Where am I? Why am I tied up?"

He looked into the distance and saw the person with the turban wrapped around their head. Suddenly, he realized, "Lockhart! You framed Headmaster Dumbledore!"

Tom Riddle smiled slightly, his tone full of sarcasm, "That's really unfair... Why does Dumbledore always treat people differently?"

"It seems he's nice to everyone except me... You're like what? A well-behaved baby who just woke up..."

Harry felt his mind become much sharper. Faced with this strangely familiar scene, he suddenly thought of someone: "Beware... you're Voldemort!"

“Hmm…not bad, a smart and well-behaved boy.” Tom Riddle nodded. “To be able to realize this…is beyond my expectations.”

“But there’s still something I don’t understand…” He bent down, brushed aside Harry’s bangs, and traced the scar with his long, slender fingers. “It shouldn’t be like this…”

Harry instinctively tried to avoid it, but the scar was still touched. He thought the burning sensation would intensify, but to his surprise... there was only a piercing feeling, like an ice cube scraping across the scar.

Tom Riddle asked doubtfully, "A not-so-special baby, just paying the price with a scar..."

"He actually defeated the greatest wizard of all time... How exactly was my future self destroyed? Why was I so utterly pathetic?"

Harry gritted his teeth and hissed, "My future self? What are you...?"

He struggled to move his arm, trying to find the wand in his pocket.

“You’re being incredibly rude!” Tom Riddle raised a wand. “Are you looking for this?”

"That's my wand!" Harry mustered all his strength and lunged forward.

“Gryffindor…that’s how it is…should I say you have commendable courage?” Tom Riddle took two steps back.

A mocking smile played on his lips. "Or should I say you're reckless... far too reckless... which do you think is better?"

Harry missed his target, but as he fell to the ground, his eyes hardened even more. "What exactly are you planning to do?"

“Let me think…” Tom Riddle murmured, helping Harry up as he spoke, “Perhaps it’s about replacing my future self and getting everything back on track?”

“At least I won’t be like him, defeated by a little baby… like now, you even need my help to get up.”

Harry gritted his teeth and fell to the other side.

This was his last act of defiance and resistance. Even if he lost his wand and was bound, he did not want either Voldemort or Tom Riddle to have their way.

“I think I understand… what Dumbledore is thinking!” Tom Riddle’s expression turned cold. “Then you can continue your futile struggle!”

“It’s almost over!” He turned to look at the crucible. “Lohart, how much longer?”

“It’s done,” Lockhart replied, tossing the unicorn blood into the cauldron first. “The blood of a pure mother and child, freely extracted, can allow the soul to be reborn…”

The moment he uttered the spell, Harry suddenly howled in pain. He felt as if his head was about to split in two, and his scar was throbbing with excruciating pain.

The moment the unicorn blood entered the cauldron, it immediately began to boil, the liquid inside turning a crimson red and bursting forth with sparks like magma...

Chapter 57 Voldemort and Tom Riddle

Lockhart hissed, summoning the snakes that had brought Harry there.

Harry felt his headache worsen; he could recognize the Parseltongue voice—Lockhart intended for the snakes to offer themselves up.

Lockhart grabbed the venomous snakes, cut them all in half, and threw them into the crucible.

Harry gasped for breath, clenching his teeth as he forced out the words, "What...what are you planning to do!"

He seemed to be hallucinating, hearing male and female voices in his ears, and a green light flashed before his eyes. Then the woman started screaming and pleading for something...

Another green light...

“Didn’t I say? To replace the future me…” Tom Riddle said with a smile, “I am Voldemort! That wretched future… doesn’t deserve the name Voldemort!”

He seemed to be in a good mood and was willing to explain further, "I will break through the original constraints and possess a real body, a perfect body!"

“Look! I have a body now…” He raised his arm and waved it, “A simple resurrection spell allows me to cast spells and move!”

"The Parkinson's family actually possesses this kind of magic! I had no idea about it in the future! I don't even know how to criticize him anymore; we have to make use of these resources!"

"Two Voldemors, then what about the other Voldemort...?" Harry said through gritted teeth. The pain from his scars made it difficult for him to think, and he could only force himself to speak to avoid losing consciousness.

He wanted to stay conscious, to ask more questions, and to see through the green light to the screaming woman's face.

"That future me?" Tom Riddle murmured. "An interesting question. Perhaps while he's still lurking, I should find a way to devour him..."

"Without light, there is no shadow. Devouring him will certainly be difficult, but we must try, won't we? Actually, I'm already ahead of him... I have you in my grasp..."

……

Lockhart threw all the venomous snakes into the crucible, ignoring the blood on his hands, and took out one by one nymph-like snake eggs from his cloth bag, throwing them all into the crucible.

As he added the Runeboding snake eggs, he chanted the second incantation: "The flesh of the innocent, deliberately cut off, allows the soul to be preserved..."

The liquid in the crucible calmed down, no longer shooting out sparks, and became a smooth, orange-red mirror, the color of a nylon snake egg.

"Ouch..." Harry groaned in pain, his body arching like a shrimp. The pain from the scar felt like an electric shock, instantly penetrating his entire body and almost stopping his breathing.

“The last one is the bone…” Tom Riddle smiled with satisfaction. “I remember… you seem to have gone through one recently, it shouldn’t hurt too much, just bear with it.”

Lockhart did not leave the crucible; he continued rummaging through the cloth bag, taking out a glass bottle containing a strand of silver thread.

Tom Riddle grabbed Harry by the collar, intending to drag him to the cauldron.

Just then, Lockhart's chanting rang out, "The thread of tracing back to the source awaits to be cast, allowing the soul to regain its wholeness..."

Tom Riddle's expression changed, and he whirled around, shouting, "Lockhart! What are you doing!"

Lockhart remained silent and dropped the silver thread into the crucible.

However, a cold voice seemed to emanate from his body, saying in a muffled tone: "Regaining perfection, didn't I already say that? The past... me!"

"Thunderous Explosion!" Tom Riddle thrust his wand toward Lockhart, and a dazzling orange-red flame burst from the tip of the wand, heading straight for the cauldron.

Lockhart made no attempt to defend himself, and Tom Riddle, as if realizing something, glided around to Harry's back.

Almost instantly, Harry understood what Tom Riddle was trying to do. Despite the excruciating pain from his scars, he struggled desperately like a fish leaping onto the shore.

Just as Tom Riddle finally lifted Harry up, intending to use him as a shield, the cauldron exploded, sending countless liquids flying out and splashing in all directions.

These liquids traveled at extremely high speeds, transforming into thread-like forms in the air before piercing Tom Riddle's body.

The other end of all these silver threads was connected to Lockhart's body.

……

Lockhart took a deep breath and then slowly exhaled.

With each breath, his appearance changed; his nose collapsed, his eyes glowed red, and he looked like a snake's face.

The moment Harry saw that face, he recognized it: "Voldemort... Voldemort!"

When Voldemort revealed his true form, the pain from the scar reached its peak, and Harry was completely unable to resist, his eyes rolled back and he fainted.

Tom Riddle was incredulous, his body becoming even more unreal. "Lockhart, you..."

"Why do you think he speaks Parsley?" Voldemort grinned maliciously. "Can someone like him really learn Parsley in such a short time?"

"You possessed his body..." Tom Riddle asked through gritted teeth, "Why wasn't Dumbledore aware of it?"

“Because I chose a different way, to possess a soul… Haven’t you seen that?” Voldemort retorted. “Lockhart’s soul is too broken…”

“Those memories that don’t belong to him have pried open too many cracks in his soul, making it perfect for me to infiltrate them without anyone noticing…”

"The price I paid was only slumber, which also allowed me to accumulate power... No matter how careful Dumbledore was, he wouldn't be able to find me. Besides, there's you too..."

"What you did at Hogwarts distracted me from Dumbledore's attention, making it even easier for me to hide!"

"Your target is me?" Tom Riddell realized. "I've been waiting for this day!"

“That’s right! I’ve been waiting for this day!” Voldemort nodded. “You’re trying to take over? But you’ve forgotten what you said… Without light, there is no shadow! I am the subject!”

"Of course, it's not your fault. I was quite naive back in my student days. Otherwise, you wouldn't have come into my life. Perhaps I should thank Vizet; if it weren't for him, I wouldn't have noticed your existence!"

“I really didn’t expect…” Tom Riddell narrowed his eyes slightly, “that you actually… had already planned to deal with me so early on?”

"Vizet! Vizet!" Voldemort sighed, as if savoring something, "I really wanted to devour his soul... his soul was incredibly delicious... you must have tasted it too!"

"Even through the detestable Guardian Angel Spell, I can... taste a different kind of soul flavor, a soul flavor strong enough to make me stronger! I think I'll have the chance soon!"

He walked step by step toward Tom Riddle, and with each step he took, the aura around Tom Riddle intensified, and the ethereal feeling grew stronger...