I, Hogwarts Second Time Around.

Chapter 186 Voldemort: Oh no, I've become a dream-fulfilling master.

From the shadows emerged a wizard with a long, silvery-white beard, a tall and thin build, wearing a black travel cloak and black boots.

He faced countless attacks from the wand aimed at Owen.

Dumbledore instantly Apparated behind him, and the Elder Wand pointed into the air, recreating a giant rose-shaped field.

After dispelling all the spells, he waved his wand once more.

In the shadows, the collapsed stone bridge seemed to come back to life, with each stone transforming into a beast that devoured the Death Eaters on the broken bridge, wrapping them up and pinning them to the ground.

Meanwhile, Voldemort once again unleashed the Killing Curse at Owen.

This time, the unfamiliar wizard stood before Owen, his wand, shaped like a withered branch, glowing with a magical light resembling edelweiss.

"Sanchez's force field!!!"

hum~~~

The newcomer looked arrogantly at the seemingly insane young man.

His cold, heterochromatic eyes gleamed with the lingering power of a strongman from a great era.

Cold and deadly.

Cruel yet captivating.

"Grindelwald!!!" Voldemort roared wildly once again as the Killing Curse was deflected, his bloodthirsty eyes constantly scanning Owen and Grindelwald.

Those eyes seemed to want to devour them alive.

Owen, caught between the two greatest wizards in the world, is happy at this moment.

But when Dumbledore turned away from the suddenly appearing wizards and his blue eyes fell on Grindelwald...

Irving felt he was being a bit ungrateful; this third wheel was ridiculously oversized.

His grandfather seemed to sense the gaze behind him.

After giving Voldemort a disdainful look, he turned around.

The two stood there, seemingly implying that everything was understood without being said.

Um—at this moment, Irving really wanted to sing a song: Ah~ It's supposed to be a movie for three people, but I still can't have a name.

Okay~

It's time for me to leave.

"You look a little tired," Grindelwald finally broke the silence, speaking calmly.

"Yes, for a while now." Dumbledore's lips unconsciously curled up and then quickly fell back down. His expression in his blue eyes behind his crescent-shaped eyes was both nostalgic and sad.

He quickly broke free from the response.

Because Grindelwald in front of him also looked very tired.

Even more exhausted than him!

"Gellert!" Dumbledore called out, guessing from various sources that his old friend was traveling all over the world.

The old headmaster was somewhat unsure what trouble he had encountered or what he was plotting.

If it's the former, then he's willing to contribute his efforts.

If it's the latter.

Then he should bring Newt back.

Grindelwald stared at Dumbledore.

The two looked at each other.

But it dealt a heavy blow to the heart of a single person on the street.

Voldemort glared angrily, feeling humiliated.

He waved his wand wildly, unleashing a torrent of terrible spells upon the two of them.

It's like a child trying to attract the attention of adults.

The two greatest wizards of the time, of course, didn't spare him either, and the battle quickly turned from one-on-one to two-on-one.

Next.

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

The scene was extremely cruel.

The couple's combined doubles attack not only inflicted tons of magical damage on Voldemort, but also caused irreparable psychological damage.

Meanwhile, inside the castle.

The young wizards watching this epic wizarding duel craned their necks, trying to imprint the scene in their minds.

Dumbledore, Grindelwald, Voldemort.

These three names almost symbolize some of the most powerful wizards in the world today.

Their showdown.

It might not happen even once in a hundred years.

However, he seemed somewhat excited compared to the other young wizards.

Harry's face turned deathly pale.

He felt like his head was about to explode. His scars had never hurt so much.

Harry was panting, his heart pounding.

A strange, terrifying thought crept into his mind.

When he looked at Dumbledore and Grindelwald, he felt an overwhelming surge of anger and resentment.

He was startled, not understanding why he had such thoughts.

It was as if he were fighting against those two great wizards.

"Harry, are you alright?"

Hermione was the first to notice his unusual behavior.

Harry's cheeks were covered in a fine layer of sweat, beads of sweat dripped from his forehead onto the ground, and his face was deathly pale. He was convulsing all over and looked extremely weak.

Hermione thought he was about to faint.

"No—" he said, "I don't know."

"My scar hurts so much! It has never hurt like this before."

"Should you go see Madam Pomfrey?" Hermione thought he was sick.

It must be a fever; she knows how uncomfortable it is to have a fever.

For this reason, she prepared a whole bunch of energy drinks.

Of course, she actually used these medications to stay up all night.

"No! I can't leave!" Harry trembled all over, his body as wet as if he had just been pulled out of the water.

"I should go help! He—killed my parents, I want to avenge them, I want to." He watched Sirius, Moody, and Professor McGonagall fighting off the remaining Death Eaters.

Every time a streak of light passed by Sirius, his heart would clench painfully.

He was terrified. He was afraid that Sirius would die here today, and even more afraid that his companions would get hurt.

A restless spirit tormented him, compelling Harry to do something!

"No~ Harry, you're crazy! That's Mysterio, Voldemort! And we can't beat those insane Death Eaters!" Hermione stared at Harry in disbelief, her eyes wide. Although Gryffindors weren't exactly known for their intelligence, she shouldn't be causing trouble for Dumbledore and the others at a time like this.

"You're wrong, Hermione!" Harry covered his scar with one hand and gripped his wand with the other. "Maybe we can't beat Voldemort right now, but what about his minions!"

"I saw them. They only know a few spells, nothing special. As long as we avoid the Killing Curse, we'll be fine. Their training isn't even as intense as the one Owen gave me," Harry said confidently.

The heat was scorching his reason.

Harry Potter no longer wants to hide behind the oak doors of Hogwarts.

Gryffindor should act like a proud knight.

So what if people think of me as Don Quixote!

The great Gryffindors never fear sacrifice!

Death is not a Gryffindor privilege!

"???"

Hermione looked terrified.

Where do you get the confidence to think Death Eaters are inferior to Irving?!

Although—and indeed, the spells they used seemed rather ordinary, and aside from the Unforgivable Curse, they didn't appear particularly powerful—they were, after all, dark wizards who had fought countless bloody battles, far superior to these young wizards who spent their days fighting in school.

"Harry~" she called out.

She had barely spoken when Harry interrupted her.

"What do you think, Ron?" Harry turned to look at Ron, who was standing to the other side.

"Me?" Little Ron looked fearful.

Harry and Hermione were both born in the Muggle world, so they didn't have the kind of upbringing that involved fearing Voldemort.

Which wizard born in the magical world is truly unafraid of Voldemort?

Besides Dumbledore?

"Be a man, Ron!!!" Harry yelled.

Ron's evasive look just now angered him.

What a disgrace to Gryffindor.

"But that's a mysterious person. I—"

"To hell with Mysterio!" Harry, already tormented by multiple mental tortures, suddenly lost control. His eyes widened, flashing with the same crimson light as Voldemort's. "You're an executioner, a murderer, a coward. If he's really as fearless as he claims, why doesn't he dare face Dumbledore?"

Why is he so afraid of death?

Harry took a breath.

Then, with a resolute look in his eyes, he said, "And I have never been afraid of death. I haven't been afraid since my first year!"

Having said that, he mustered his courage, raised his wand, and was the first to jump out through the gap in the oak door.

He shouted at the top of his lungs, "I want to avenge my parents!!!"

Then a crimson spell surged from the tip of his wand: "Expelliarmus!"

"Avada Kedavra!!!"

Voldemort, who was fighting Dumbledore and Grindelwald, had already noticed Harry the moment he fired the Disarming Charm.

He returned the killing curse in kind!

Then the two beams of light met in mid-air.

Suddenly, a strange scene unfolded.

Harry's wand vibrated as if electrified, and he gripped it tightly, unable to let go even if he wanted to. A thin beam of light connected the two wands, neither red nor green, but a dazzling gold.

Harry looked in surprise along the beam of light and saw that Voldemort's pale, slender fingers were also holding a trembling wand.

Then, completely unexpectedly, Harry felt his feet leave the ground, and he and Voldemort rose into the air, their wands still connected by the shimmering gold thread.

"What happened?"

The young wizards watched this scene in amazement.

That's Harry Potter—he's actually confronting Voldemort.

this.

How is that possible!

"Harry!" Hermione rushed out without hesitation.

She held up her wand, wanting to interrupt or save Harry, who was floating in the air.

But before the wand could be raised, a voice rang out, "Wait, Miss Granger."

It was Dumbledore; behind his half-moon spectacles, wisdom shone through.

In just a moment, he saw through the essence of the curse.

Flashback spell!

"That child, he is destined to become the hero who defeats Voldemort," Grindelwald said calmly.

Fragments of the future flashed in his heterochromatic eyes.

As a prophet, he had already seen through everything.

If it weren't for the unspoken entanglement with Dumbledore, he shouldn't have done this.

"Yes, this ending was already destined thirteen years ago when Tom foolishly chose the Potters," Dumbledore said calmly.

And above the sky.

The golden thread connecting Harry and Voldemort suddenly broke, but the two wands remained tightly connected, and thousands of arcs of light appeared above Harry and Voldemort.

Arcs of light intertwined around them, eventually forming a dome-shaped golden net, a cage made of light.

Harry could see the astonishment in Voldemort's red eyes.

I'm not that much different from him.

He was equally shocked by the scene before him.

Suddenly, a celestial melody began to play, emanating from every thread of the vibrating net of light surrounding Harry and Voldemort.

Harry could tell it was the dirge of the phoenix.

In Europe, the legend of the phoenix has been passed down through generations on this continent.

The story of being reborn from the flames symbolizes life entering the next stage and also symbolizes being brought back to life.

The next second, Voldemort's wand let out a painful scream.

The echoes continued, and then—in his scarlet, astonished gaze, a figure made of thick smoke emerged from his wand.

Next came many people.

A huge number of people.

Within the smoke, a head first appeared, then arms, and then the body.

One after another, wisps of smoke, like souls, continuously emerged from Voldemort's wand.

Then, a young woman with long hair appeared. She had a stunning appearance and gentle eyes. Harry knew who she was at just one glance.

"Mom~" Harry looked at his mother's face, his arms trembling violently.

"Harry—" Lily called his name softly, then said with extraordinary gentleness, "You've grown up."

Then, another person emerged from the wand; he was a tall man with bushy hair.

James Porter.

He landed on the ground as gently as his wife.

"James?!"

Meanwhile, Sirius, who was fighting the Death Eaters, turned around and looked at the person with disbelief in his eyes.

It looked exactly like the friend he remembered.

"You're back?" His voice trembled slightly.

After dodging a petrification spell, it immediately rushed over.

He was even more excited than Harry.

Her eyes were red, as if she was about to cry at any moment.

However, his embrace went unanswered, and he walked straight past her.

It was cold and damp.

Like passing through a ghost in a castle.

"I'm sorry~" Sirius was first shocked, then began to apologize repeatedly, "I was too arrogant, I was too conceited, I shouldn't have let that bastard Peter become your secret agent, it's all my fault."

"You know I won't blame you for these things," James said, looking at his old friend with a touched expression.

They are best friends.

They were very close; he met him on his first day at Hogwarts.

"Take good care of him, take good care of Harry, Sirius," he said slowly, then turned to look at Dumbledore.

"Stop him."

Voldemort roared madly.

Please.

"I will." The old principal nodded solemnly.

Then Harry reached his limit, and the golden thread suddenly snapped.

Then, in an instant, all the ghosts present swarmed onto Voldemort.

In their lifetime, they were either trampled to death in a lowly manner or fought bravely.

Some souls don't even know why they were killed; some are not wizards at all, but Muggles.

But at this moment, no one was afraid of him anymore.

No one is afraid of Voldemort.

After death, everyone rediscovered courage.

"Get out of here!"

Voldemort, his vision obscured by the ghostly smoke, roared madly.

But this did nothing to help.

Finally, he had to slink away again after casting down some terrible spell.

There was no trace of him among the snowflakes in the darkness of night.

(End of this chapter)