I, Hogwarts Second Time Around.

Chapter 430 A Belief

"And now?" Koyater quickly regained his composure. "Where am I? How did I end up in a place like this again?"

"Hmm—" Shani said slowly, "Although I don't understand how you ended up in a place like this last time."

"But the reason you're here now is because of him." She pointed at Ron.

"He—" Koyatl glanced at Ron, "You two? Are you related?"

The same red hair, and the woman in front of him seemed familiar.

Her name was Shani Weasley, I think?

Since they're both from the Weasley family, could she be Ron's ancestor?

"Yes." Shani reached out and ruffled Koyatl's hair, saying, "Perhaps you have already met this generation of ancient magic heirs. I once had that identity too."

As she spoke, the smile on her face slowly faded. "That wasn't a good identity. I lost a lot because of it."

"After my death, perhaps it was this identity that allowed a part of my will to continue through my bloodline. Little Ron is the most outstanding descendant to inherit my bloodline."

"It's amazing. This is something that has never happened before in history. It may be related to the fact that several generations of heirs have been members of the Weasley family."

"Several generations?" Koyatl expressed surprise. This was different from some of the history she knew. Wasn't the identity of the heir random?

"As for why I'm here?" A smile returned to Shani's face.

"Then let's guess."

"What you must understand, Miss Koyatl, is that your shared experience with Ronnie is unknown to anyone else. No one has ever set foot in this magical realm before. It was a product of a series of coincidences and inevitable events, full of wondrous, fateful arrangements."

"Is it because of blood?" Koyatl frowned. In her last memory, she had mingled with Ron's blood.

"My body contains ancient magic, which is why I have reawakened your consciousness."

"Yes." Shani nodded, "but not entirely. This was the final fuse; the powder keg had been prepared beforehand."

"Could it be because of the conflict between her and me before? I remember our wands were linked together. Owen said that only wands whose cores belong to the same magical creature can cause that kind of thing, like the Flashback Charm." Ron's eyes darted around frantically, and he quickly gave his answer.

“That’s right, but even earlier—” Shani said with a smile. She stopped being mysterious and began to explain, “Ronnie, on that train, when my junior threatened you and Harry with a spell, the ancient magic overflowing from him had already awakened the power in your blood.”

"The train?" Ron scratched his head, then suddenly realized, "Oh—you mean the Hogwarts Express in my first year, when I first met Owen—it started back then?"

"It's a very strange connection," Shani said. "Ancient magic has tightly bound your destinies together, a connection that you yourselves are unaware of. It subtly influences you, and you should have noticed it yourself by now."

"Over the years, you and Owen have made countless magical connections. I believe that your wand absorbed some of his power and qualities, which permanently changed your personality. The magically infected unicorn (Ron's old wand) is no longer suitable for you."

A wizard's wand is like a guardian angel, representing a person's nature. Even if the previous wand is damaged, the new wand's core will generally be made of the same material.

But you are different. All the unicorns refused, which is very rare. It's not uncommon for Aurors to use unicorn wands and inevitably resort to dark magic. Most of them recover after a period of time, and their wands return to normal. But you—the reason is that you have changed.

"During the World Cup, Quetzalcoatl noticed me, and that was the first time I saw you." Shani then looked at Koyatl.

"To be honest, I couldn't believe it. For a moment, I thought there were two inheritors of ancient magic in the world. Later I realized that it wasn't your power, but belonged to Quetzalcoatl."

Of course, this still surprised me. Because it's impossible—how could someone be born with two opposing forces within their body? I've thought about it for a long time, and I've heard many answers from Ronnie as well.

Later I understood what kind of power it was that sustained a vibrant, fragile soul.

"What is it?" Koyatl asked hurriedly.

Seeing the anxious young wizard, Shani bent down, cupped the girl's cheek in her right hand, and said in a gentler tone than ever before, "Love, child. It's love."

"Love?" Koyatl's eyes were full of confusion. What kind of answer was that?

"Koyatl Stewart," Shani said softly, "you should learn about your family history, the history of the Stewart family."

And—before you, those monstrous, deformed infants who died, those Koyatir—not everything was fueled by hatred, and you are not their flame of vengeance. Perhaps everything is warmer than you imagine?

Love—child, they love you and want you to live.

Faced with such an answer, Koyatl was immediately bewildered. She had never imagined that love could sprout from the piles of bones beneath Isabel's deep harbor.

Isn't that the vestibule of hell?

Why did she feel that it was so out of place?

"Love!" Ron exclaimed. "I know, Owen and Dumbledore both said that Harry survived Voldemort's Killing Curse because of his mother's love."

It was an ancient and powerful force beyond the comprehension of wizards, a force that Voldemort could never understand in his entire life.

"So what exactly is love?" he pressed.

"Love is a belief," Shani replied. "You'll know, it's that simple. When all that's left in your mind and body is a belief, miracles happen."

It has nothing to do with age, nor with how many powerful spells one possesses; it can happen in the next second, appearing in those acts of altruism performed with all one's might.

"I see—" Ron nodded, completely unable to understand.

Koyatl glared at her with a hint of disdain, then looked at the woman in front of him who resembled a mother. "Too profound for me to understand."

"You don't need to understand now. You're still young; you have a long life ahead of you—oh—by the way—are you eighteen?"

Koyater was taken aback. She was the same age as the other four in the semifinals, and if she were still at Ifamoni Academy this year, she would be in seventh grade.

She will turn eighteen this year after her birthday.

"There's a future there. We're already dead." She didn't answer, but Ron answered for her, shaking his head.

"Oh—not yet eighteen?" Shani glanced at Ron, nodding knowingly. "That means you're less than three years younger. That's good. You're not smart enough; you should be kept in check."

"Hey—" Koyatl was annoyed. What time is it? You guys still have the mood to talk about such boring topics.

"Don't worry—" Shani chuckled, "you're not dead."

She said, "Ancient magic has a powerful mutating effect on organisms, and if controlled properly, it can be used to heal any wound. You can leave it to me in a bit."

"You?" Ron's eyes widened. "You can be resurrected?"

Shani rolled her eyes at her silly descendant. "How could that be? But you can still cast a few spells using your body."

"What should we do? Can we go back?" Ron didn't want to die at all; he wanted to avenge the little wizards!

Shani saw through the flames in Ron's eyes—the burning fire of revenge. "Not for the dead, Ronnie. For the living. The most important thing is to cherish those around you. You must reduce the harm done to innocent souls, reduce the number of broken families. Choose a worthwhile goal. A noble goal."

"As for going back," she stood up, looking around, "that's your decision. After all, this is your home."

Ron took a few deep breaths, adjusted his mindset, clenched his fists, and looked around.

He didn't understand what his ancestor meant by "it's up to him to decide," but this was indeed his home. Warm, noisy, happy. Home supported him from falling into a darker abyss; it was a strength he was born with.

He gazed at Shani, looking at her for a long time.

Although he still doesn't know what kind of hardships this ancestor endured, she must have carried a heavy burden. She ultimately died alone in the kitchen chamber of Hogwarts, and her name is nowhere to be found in the magical world. What a despairing ending, yet she—she seemed to have never cared about any of that.

She never mentioned those things when she spoke with them.

She was so kind, so gentle, just like—just like his grandmother, Cedric Black. Though she bore the name Black, she was a gentle woman.

Of course, like Sirius Black, she was also expelled from the Black family because she married her grandfather, a Weasley.

Weasley.

"One last question, madam," Ron said, "Why the Weasleys? Why have they been the Weasleys for generations?"

Shani continued to look at him gently, and everything around them, the Burrow, returned to being shrouded in mist, just like the scene in the Pensieve.

"Someone has chosen us." Her figure remained ethereal, but her voice was still clear and melodious. "Meve, Vivian, Morgan, Arthur, William, Charlie, Frederick, St. George, Percival, Ron (Ron is short for Rhongomyniad, meaning: Rhongomyniad, King Arthur's spear.) Guinevere."

The names of all members of the Weasley family follow a certain pattern, with most names derived from the legends of King Arthur and medieval historical figures.

I don't think this is an accident at all.

"That bastard—he didn't even ask for our opinion."

Fog gathers, and the world collapses.

When consciousness returned, Koyatl found himself lying on the ground.

The stench of rotting corpses filled the air.

She felt the irregular stones beneath her digging painfully into her back.

Aside from that, she was in absolutely the best possible condition.

Never been so easy.

All the wounds on his body had disappeared.

Even Ron, who was pinning her down, was gone.

???

The girl snapped out of her daze, imagining she would hear Voldemort's triumphant cheers, celebrating her death and his acquisition of Outer God powers.

But in reality, all she could hear was Voldemort's curses.

Hysterical.

She opened her eyes and looked around.

Voldemort was seen fighting with a wizard.

Although he had the upper hand, he just couldn't defeat the wizard. Angry and ferocious roars came from his mouth. The wizard was already injured and looked like he was about to lose, but every time he launched a fatal attack, the wizard managed to dodge it.

This infuriated Voldemort.

He then unleashed even more powerful and terrifying magic.

"boom--"

The entire island trembled, and Koyatl was swept away a great distance by the rolling stones.

After a long while, she finally crawled out from the edge of the island, her figure almost falling into the stone bridge below.

The girl peeked out, her eyes fixed intently on what lay ahead.

Her wand was destroyed, and her fanny pack was gone.

Although she was not weak in spellcasting without a staff, it would be too foolish to do so against an opponent like Voldemort.

Getting involved at this point will only cause trouble for that wizard.

Immediately, her gaze shifted elsewhere.

At the heart of the island lies the battleground of two wizards.

On the other side of the altar, behind Voldemort.

Koyatl finally found Ron's trail.

He seems like a completely different person.

She held no magic wand, yet her fingertips continuously wrote ancient runes she didn't recognize in the air.

Each character is like a dancing sprite, sinking into the altar, sinking into the void.

Immediately afterwards, Koyatl saw that the feathered serpent god above the altar suddenly became solid.

It was as if someone had given it renewed power.

Voldemort paid no attention to any of this; he was consumed by rage and his attention was entirely focused on the black-robed wizard.

She also noticed that Voldemort only had two chains left, instead of the original seven.

As Ron wrote more and more runes, two iron chains suddenly flew out of the void and bound Voldemort's neck.

"What?"

Tom didn't notice any of this.

He was pulled by that force and staggered as he fell from the air.

Grindelwald's eyes lit up, and he seized the opportunity to unleash several more spells, which successfully damaged Voldemort.

He had noticed Ron long ago.

Although she didn't know what the boy was up to, she kept drawing Voldemort's hatred away from him.

"Damn it? You? Why aren't you dead yet?"

Voldemort, who had fallen to the ground and whose wand had been knocked away by Grindelwald, finally noticed Ron's presence.

He glared angrily at the other person, his scarlet eyes seeming to want to devour him.

(End of this chapter)