dmims Chapter 192, Section 191: The Gears of Fate Turn, Voldemort Appears!
Chapter 192, Section 191: The Gears of Fate Turn, Voldemort Appears!
Chapter 192, Section 191: The Gears of Fate Turn, Voldemort Appears!
The young wizard felt a mix of emotions.
After praising him highly, Professor Trelawney became even more excited. Ian's mention of a "major catastrophe" made her think that Ian must have a special talent for divination.
This little guy must be a great prophet just like herself! With this expectation in mind, Professor Trelawney felt she should "teach" the young wizard some extra knowledge in advance.
"According to my original plan, we will learn to interpret tea in the trial class next month. However, I just used my third eye to look, and unfortunately, I am about to catch a severe cold during a sudden drop in temperature, which may force me to stop teaching for one to two months... I don't want to delay your divination class because of this."
Professor Trelawney jogged to a bookshelf where a bronze incense burner emitted milky white smoke, but this did not prevent her from finding a book on it.
Seeing Through the Fog to the Future
This is the textbook that third-grade students need to use after choosing Divination as an elective course, but the second-grade wizards who are only taking the trial class obviously did not purchase it.
Professor Trelawney clearly knew this, so she gave Ian her old book and encouraged him to study the knowledge in it in his spare time.
"I hope it can guide you to the path I'm on. Believe me, I don't want to stop teaching either, but a cold will make me lose my voice... um, that's right, a very serious one." Professor Trelawney looked regretful, but the repeated emphasis in her tone made Ian feel that she was paving the way for skipping work.
If Ian remembers correctly.
Last year, this professor had already caught a cold for a month or two. It's really strange that he would catch a cold for such a long time every year. The little wizard felt that there must be something strange about it.
Sick leave doesn't affect your salary.
Perhaps this is the advantage of being a prophet: once you've figured out your reasons for skipping work, you can say it's fate, and most people, even if they realize something's not right, probably won't know how to refute it.
After all, as Professor Trelawney said, divination and prophecy are fields that only a very few people can enter. How can someone who doesn't know anything about it question a prophet?
"What a wonderful profession!" Ian was greatly inspired and thoughtfully took the book "Seeing the Future Through the Fog," at which point Professor Trelawney turned around and handed him a teacup.
"You've already proven your talent with the crystal ball. Use the rest of this class to study the course on interpreting tea leaves. If you encounter any problems, you can consult me, the authority among authorities, in a timely manner."
"Before you encounter any difficulties, you can find information on how to interpret the shape and floating state of tea leaves on page six of 'Seeing the Future Through the Fog'."
Professor Trelawney's narcissism was evident throughout; after speaking, she turned to instruct the other young wizards. However, the young wizards raised their hands to stop her.
"Do I need to drink this tea after it's brewed?"
Ian stared at the teapot and tea leaves in front of him, his tone odd.
"Of course, my dear. If you open the book I gave you, you'll find out. The taste of the tea will also reveal some of the wonders of fate to us."
"And you will need to drink all the tea before you can observe the predetermined fate," Professor Trelawney patiently and without hesitation answered.
Turn around again.
She felt that there were still some poor lost sheep on the perilous path of divination and prophecy who she had not yet "guided" and needed her help to cross the threshold.
"But your tea leaves are covered in mold." Ian poked at the tea leaves in his teacup with a bamboo skewer; the reddish mold made him think they were probably not suitable for consumption.
"Nonsense, I just applied for teaching funds this year to buy top-quality tea, how could it be moldy?" Professor Trelawney replied without batting an eye.
"That's a tea treasure, child. Only truly high-quality tea has this characteristic." She was clearly lying through her teeth. Did Ian not know whether there was mold on the tea leaves?
He even suspected that the tea leaves were the kind that had been soaked in water and then dried.
"Well, I'll have to save some to share with the elders who have always taken good care of me. You know, Headmaster Dumbledore often invites me to his office."
As Ian watched Professor Trelawney prepare to make him tea with boiling water, he knew that arguing would be pointless, so he chose a different approach.
That's why he's described as a boy who's well-versed in psychology.
Upon hearing the young wizard's words, Professor Trelawney froze. She immediately stopped pouring water and swiftly removed the tea leaves from Ian's table.
"This tea is too heaty and not suitable for the elderly. I'll switch you to a milder tea. It's not as precious, but it's the tea we use for teaching in our divination classes."
Professor Trelawney remained unfazed, but after praising Ian's "filial piety," she subtly changed Ian's tea to a different kind.
This is definitely genuinely good tea, this year's new tea, and the price is absolutely not that of inferior products. You can tell from the fleeting look of pain on Professor Trelawney's face.
"Whitard of Chelsea tea." Ian even noticed the brand on the tea packaging, perhaps because he said he was going to give it to Dumbledore.
The British brand Whittard of Chelsea is renowned for its century-old reputation and meticulous attention to detail. They import high-quality tea and coffee from Asia, carefully selecting and blending them to create the best-tasting products for their customers, at prices that are by no means cheap in the British tea market.
To be fair, Asian tea is indeed of very high quality. After being packaged in the UK, its value can increase several times over. The combined revenue of all the tea companies in Asia cannot compare to that of a single large British tea company. There's no way around it; that's the power of branding. Perhaps only the teas of the Camellia Lady's grandfather or great-grandfather can rival its price.
"Tsk tsk."
As Professor Trelawney turned and went to the other young wizards' desks, Ian couldn't help but feel a little sentimental. There might not be a Commissioner Smith at Hogwarts overseeing the school's finances, but Professor Trelawney certainly hadn't taken a lot either. The so-called "tea designated for teaching" was simply a deliberate attempt to cover up the truth.
"Open your spiritual eyes, my dear children, open your third eye." The sandalwood incense spun into the shape of a green snake in the bronze incense burner, and Professor Trelawney had already begun to persuade the other young wizards.
"Let the third eye pierce the veil of fate—Mr. Franky, please stop tapping your crystal ball with your wand; the sound will make the goddess of fortune twist her heels."
Professor Trelawney stopped a young wizard from slacking off.
"How do you know that the goddess of fate wears high heels?" The young wizard's focus was clearly unusual; he raised the possibility that the goddess of fate could be male.
"Absolutely impossible! Do I understand fate, or do you? What a ridiculous idea." Professor Trelawney dismissed the young Ravenclaw wizard's wildly imaginative conjecture with great disdain.
She seemed somewhat disappointed with the Ravenclaw group, and turned her gaze to the other house in the class, "Let's hear what the Slytherin prophets have seen?"
talking.
Professor Trelawney began to question the Slytherin students with great anticipation.
"train!"
The Slytherin student, when questioned, immediately replied firmly, "Racing through the Scottish Highlands amidst steam, with headlights that looked like two burning mandrakes!"
He felt that his description was so clear that he was sure to receive praise from Professor Trelawney. However, just as he was full of anticipation and preparing to welcome his own moment of "gift,"
"A vulgar representation."
Professor Trelawney, however, looked disappointed and turned to a red-haired girl with a sigh.
"Chocolate pie, raspberry jam," the girl's voice trailed off as the professor's lips twitched, mainly because he noticed a faint glimmer of saliva at the corners of her mouth.
It sounds like he's talking in his sleep, rather than answering a question.
"This little girl should go to Hufflepuff." Whether Professor Trelawney had a bias against the House or not, she walked over to the next person with a displeased look on her face.
Daphne was still thinking about Professor Trelawney, or rather, about her conversation with Ian before Professor Trelawney, when she saw Professor Trelawney walk up to her.
Her eyes darted around, ready to verify her observations and guesses.
"I saw blood! Rivers of blood overflowed the Astronomy Tower, terrifying symbols burned in the clouds, someone was about to die, and the shadow of death would hang over the entire Hogwarts campus!"
Daphne was actually a smart girl. She clearly guessed something from Ian's behavior, so she feigned panic and exclaimed. Her pale face, still somewhat pale from malnutrition last semester, actually made her performance more believable.
"Ah! A miracle is happening!" Trelawney's silver bracelet trembled. "This is the essence of prophecy, a breathtaking image. Slytherin must add five points!"
This professor really does have a taste for this.
She praised Daphne excitedly, without even glancing at the crystal ball she had been holding, which secretly relieved Daphne, who was making up stories.
"As expected... that's how it is. Following him is definitely the right thing to do." Daphne secretly glanced at Ian not far away, where the little wizard was idly stirring the tea leaves in his teacup.
The dark brown tea rippled in the blue-glazed teacup.
He slowly picked up the teacup, took a small sip, and savored the aroma of the tea. His gaze was focused solely on the intricate patterns within the tea leaves, showing no intention of prying into fate.
Ok.
His eyes were sore from staring, and he still couldn't discern any clues about fate. Ian knew that divination was real, but he also knew that he probably didn't have much talent in this field.
This was evident from the fact that his personal panel showed no improvement in proficiency throughout the entire class. In other classes, even if he wasn't paying attention and was doing other things, the knowledge would still leave some traces as it passively passed through his mind. But in this divination class, his panel was completely unresponsive, as if it were dead.
"While I'm not a perfect all-rounder, I'm not bad at being a pentagon." Ian wasn't too disappointed about it; everyone has one or two weaknesses.
It's a good thing that his weakness is divination, which he dislikes the most. Just as Ian was slacking off, Professor Trelawney walked up to Aurora with anticipation.
at this time.
Aurora was also observing the crystal ball.
The reflection of the platinum-gold-haired girl shattered into seventeen moons on the surface of the sphere.
She seemed to see an endless galaxy flowing before her eyes, each star shimmering with a mysterious light, like a complex pattern woven from the threads of fate.
However, when Aurora tried to delve deeper into the secrets of these stars, the image suddenly became blurry, as if shrouded in a thin mist, making it impossible to see their full appearance.
"Miss Grindelwald, tell me, what glimmer of light have you caught in the web of fate?" Professor Trelawney, sensing Aurora's focus, immediately asked with great interest. She was always quite adept at choosing her words, and that air of an old charlatan was palpable in her speech.
"I saw you carrying a cardboard box out of the castle gates. You must have left Hogwarts." Aurora looked up, her expression calm, without mentioning what she had observed from the crystal ball.
She uttered another prophecy, her white eye slightly shifting. This sight clearly caused the surrounding young wizards to stop what they were doing.
For an instant.
The classroom was so quiet you could hear a pin drop.
"Nonsense!" Professor Trelawney's face instantly turned ashen, her voice trembling slightly with anger. "Nonsense! I won't leave Hogwarts no matter who leaves! A true prophet wouldn't misinterpret the destiny he glimpses! It seems your inherited talent is far less than I imagined!"
This definitely touched a nerve with Professor Trelawney. Feeling uneasy under Aurora's gaze, she immediately shouted even louder and more menacingly.
"My prophecies seep into every crevice of Hogwarts! It cannot exist without me!" With that, the Divination professor glared fiercely at Aurora and then turned and walked away.
Aurora simply shrugged, seemingly unconcerned. Professor Trelawney, however, was trembling. She was clearly furious at Aurora's prophecy, pacing around the classroom several times without managing to calm down, finally stopping beside Ian, the student she favored most in this class.
Professor Trelawney was deeply moved by Ian's prophecy of catastrophe, and perhaps wanting some comfort from Ian to calm her anxious heart, she spoke in a gentle and kind tone.
"Darling, what did you glimpse in the teacup?" This was clearly an attempt to distract herself from Aurora's prophecy; Professor Trelawney was trying her best to avoid confronting it.
"what?"
Ian had been in a daze for a long time.
He hadn't expected Professor Trelawney to launch a surprise attack.
"I saw a nebula, and a glowing tower where countless giants were training. An evil creature called Belial has invaded that place."
"The ground is littered with corpses and in complete disarray. The giants have turned to stone and are trying to trick me into lending them my light." The little wizard's mind was completely blank at this moment.
So he could only continue rambling and making things up, responding to Professor Trelawney with a sigh, based on the coping strategies he had previously summarized.
"You can even predict things beyond Earth!?" Professor Trelawney was clearly astonished. She quickly snatched the teacup that Ian had been covering and exclaimed in shock.
Let me take a look.
She tried to use her knowledge to interpret the tea leaves in the teacup, but found the entire teacup empty. Somewhat surprised, she looked up and saw that the little wizard was still chewing something.
"..."
Professor Trelawney realized that her idea of recycling the tea leaves had fallen through.
She found it difficult to comment on Ian's tea-drinking behavior.
There was silence for a moment.
"This is not a good omen; it means disappearance." The professor could only resort to his best trick, using a tense expression to scare Ian.
"Yes, Professor." Ian, of course, did not believe Professor Trelawney's nonsense. He knew that the professor liked to scare people when she was in a bad mood.
Therefore.
The young wizard's somewhat perfunctory answer made Professor Trelawney quite uncomfortable. The professor had to gather her thoughts and continue speaking to the young wizard in a serious voice.
"This is related to the danger you are about to encounter, which is coming soon, and it will be a terrible danger, my dear. We are talking about an ominous sign."
Professor Trelawney had a pair of thin, well-defined lips beneath her high cheekbones.
Her slightly cloudy eyes were fixed on Ian.
"Oh, I'm going to have to go through something like this? That's terrible."
Ian immediately displayed Oscar-caliber acting skills.
This time.
Professor Trelawney was finally satisfied. She began to move to other seats, and the entire lesson drew to a close as she continued to deceive the young wizards.
On the way home from get out of class.
"She told me to be careful of men whose names contain the letter L, because that man would make me lose my love. To be honest, that really scared me."
Qiu Zhang walked along the road with some worry.
"The version was updated a long time ago; she's just an old liar!"
Ian comforted his friend, but his words left Cho Chang somewhat confused.
What does it mean to have an earlier version?
Qiu Zhang's eyes were filled with a blank expression.
"That's not important."
Aurora, who was standing next to her, spoke softly.
She caught Qiu Zhang's attention.
"Did you really see anything? I feel like I was just making it all up." Cho Chang frankly admitted his evasiveness, something that almost all young wizards do.
In this regard.
Aurora chuckled in response, "Fortune telling sometimes relies on intuition and imagination. That's the wonder of fortune telling, isn't it? Everyone sees and understands things differently. Perhaps in the professor's eyes, your imagination really does have special meaning... Our professor is truly skilled."
She still said something good on behalf of Professor Trelawney, speaking the truth.
"I'm not that interested in divination; I prefer real magic. Of course, that's also related to my lack of talent," Cho Chang sighed, remaining candid.
Her words resonated with the young wizard.
Me too.
Ian's agreement elicited a look of disdain from Cho Chang.
"Just now after class, the professor praised you as the most talented student. You can't stand in this line of slackers." Qiu Zhang clearly didn't believe Ian's words.
"Actually, I made it all up too."
Ian is also demonstrating his honesty.
however.
Cho Chang and Aurora, who had long believed Ian also possessed prophetic abilities, both showed expressions of disbelief. Sometimes, telling the truth doesn't necessarily earn someone's trust.
Seeing that both of his friends looked at him with disdain, as if he had lied.
"Okay, I'll stop pretending. Nobody knows more about divination or prophecy than me. I'm a genius." Ian could only smirk, having given a boast that even he found utterly uninteresting.
Only then did Aurora and Cho Chang's eyes return to normal.
They seemed to think this was perfectly normal.
"..."
The young wizard, fully aware of his situation, could only sigh. He occasionally wanted to be honest, but it seemed better to be dishonest. Was this the helplessness of living in this world?
With a heavy heart.
Ian and the young wizards went to the Great Hall for dinner.
On the other side...
The divination classroom was now empty of students.
Professor Trelawney lay back in her chair.
She was already fast asleep.
At this time.
A crack appeared in the clouds outside the tower, and a beam of sunlight pierced the stained glass of the North Tower—in the interplay of light and shadow, the image of fate was emerging on the professor's crystal ball.
"Okay, Professor."
"How could I possibly be going to experience something like this!"
What's wrong?
It is determined from the perspective of illusion.
It was as if the god of fate had plucked the strings of his harp.
……
The dinner party, as always, was a product of the house-elves' whimsical ideas. Each bite of cake held a special memory, and as you ate it, fond recollections would surface in your mind.
The ice cream scoops were enchanted with levitation magic, allowing them to float in the air without melting. They resembled colorful balloons, drifting above the dining table, waiting to be caught.
Despite the variety of presentations, the taste was actually quite good.
"I hope there won't be any more chili cakes," Ian thought to himself as he finished his delicious dinner, his mind preoccupied with the potion he had carefully brewed, and headed straight for the House of Requirement.
Inside a room that no one else could find.
Ian walked to the workbench and pulled a small packet of powder wrapped in parchment from another pocket. It was moonflower pollen he had collected from deep within Hogwarts.
It can enhance the resonance between the potion and the soul.
Not a single mistake, not a single poem, not a single post, not a single piece of content, not a single look!
"Hopefully, my Soul Extraction Potion will help Harry. The worst-case scenario is that both of his souls will be extracted, and then I'll have to put Harry's soul back into his body."
Ian muttered to himself.
Carefully sprinkle the pollen into the potion that is being brewed.
He stirred the potion in the cauldron with a silver spoon, the moonstone powder shimmering with tiny silver sparkles in the deep purple liquid. The liquid immediately boiled, hissing, and its color changed from dark green to a deep purple. The cauldron also emitted a soft hum, and strange ripples appeared on the surface of the liquid.
The hooting of an owl drifted in from outside the window.
The oak bookshelves of the Room of Requirement cast swaying shadows in the candlelight.
The brewing of the potion also requires time to settle.
Thinking of his older brother Tom, Ian glanced at the time on the wall; it was almost nine o'clock. He hesitated for a moment, then decided to go to the school infirmary to check on Harry and find out how he was doing.
Who knows if the remnant soul in the diary might be colluding with the remnant soul inside Harry's body.
By this time, it was completely dark, and the moonlight shone like water on Hogwarts Castle, adding a touch of mystery to this ancient building.
The corridor was deserted, save for Ian's footsteps echoing against the stone walls. In the school infirmary, a few magical candles burned, casting a dim, yellowish light on Harry lying quietly on the innermost bed. The boy was frighteningly pale, his forehead covered in fine beads of sweat, and the lightning bolt-shaped scar looked particularly gruesome in the candlelight.
Nicholas Flamel sat quietly by Harry's bedside, reading some books about Horcruxes. He wore a dark blue robe with a peculiar badge pinned to his chest.
It is engraved with profound symbols related to alchemy.
"I think your concerns are valid."
He noticed Ian's arrival, and looking up at Ian with a slightly tired expression, his brows furrowed with confusion and unease about what was happening to the unknown.
"What's going on?"
Ian was slightly taken aback.
They realized the situation might be worse.
"The situation is not good, Ian. The remnant soul of the Dark Lord is unusually active in his scar. I sense a terrifying dark power, but I don't know what the final outcome of this power will be."
"However, one thing I'm certain of is that Voldemort's remnant spirit is far more active than we imagined. It's doing everything in its power to corrupt Harry's consciousness."
Nicolas Lemaître stood up, walked to the bedside, and spoke with a sigh.
"I remember you said that if Voldemort wanted to be resurrected, he would have to sacrifice someone other than Harry as a price, and it would also require an extremely complicated ritual, right?"
"Until something like this happens, I think Harry should be fine, right?" Ian frowned and whispered his assessment.
This was actually knowledge that Nicolas Lemaître had instilled in him before.
however.
At this moment, Nicolas Flamel shook his head.
"This is not resurrection, child, but a terrible fusion, a fusion at any cost. This is an unexpected situation, as if the Dark Lord was even willing to give up his own existence to merge with Harry into a completely new individual." The alchemist's expression became somewhat complicated.
"It has to be said, he might have truly gone mad to the point of losing all reason. You have to understand, if the fusion is complete, Harry and that person will no longer be who they originally were."
Nicolas Lemaître's tone clearly conveyed extreme confusion.
This is also normal.
After all, based on his understanding of Voldemort, Voldemort would never make such a choice, and now, the most unlikely scenario is actually happening.
"Perhaps this wasn't his intention, but a choice he had to make?" Ian's mind raced as he recalled Harry's whispers when he acted strangely earlier.
"It's roaring...it's furious..."
These are Harry's words when his eyes turned into vertical pupils.
It must have some meaning.
"What do you mean?" Nick Flamel was stunned for a moment after hearing Ian's guess, and then looked at Ian with a slightly suspicious look in his eyes.
"Harry said something to me earlier," Ian told Nick Flamel, recounting what he remembered. Flamel's expression immediately turned serious.
"What is that guy afraid of?" He drew a precise conclusion from Ian's description, which made his heart churn.
This astute alchemist had already realized something: perhaps the anomaly Harry Potter was experiencing was related to something terrifying happening to the lawless Dark Lord.
But only a remnant soul.
A Horcrux.
What is there to be afraid of?
"I need to study this carefully." Nick Lemaître turned around and took out a device. After pressing the device, a virtual bookshelf appeared in the ward.
He was looking for books on it.
"This will take time... The problem is that Dumbledore isn't here with us, I can't contact him directly, and I haven't received any response to the messages I've sent him."
There was a strong sense of worry in Nick Lemaître's tone.
obviously.
The current Hogwarts is really weak in defense.
"There's also a diary, which is also a Horcrux. Malfoy brought it to the school, and now the diary is missing." Ian was well aware that beneath the calm surface of Hogwarts, undercurrents were surging.
He did not hide anything.
This somewhat frightening news immediately intensified the unease on Nick Lemaître's face.
"This is not the good news I want to hear... Perhaps you should keep an eye on your uncle. He's visited Harry more than ten times and said some strange things."
Nicolas Flamel took a book from the imaginary bookshelf, and the book became a tangible thing in his hands. As he flipped through it, he also gave Ian a reminder.
"What did you say?"
Ian asked curiously.
He had little doubt about Snape.
"I'm an old man over six hundred years old, you can't expect my memory to be very good. Anyway, your uncle's eyes are also very strange. I feel like he's concerned about the remnant soul inside Harry."
"Although we really don't want to doubt him, we can't ignore what kind of identity he once had." Nick Flamel clearly didn't have the same level of trust in Snape as Dumbledore did.
That's somewhat understandable.
After all, Uncle Snape's past was indeed tainted with misdeeds.
Putting myself in his shoes, if someone told me one day that Hannibal had become a vegetarian, Ian think I probably wouldn't choose to believe it.
"I'll do my best to find that diary." Ian could only change the subject. Nick Lemaître remained noncommittal, as if he wanted to say something more.
"The patient needs quiet rest!" Mrs. Pomfrey, having apparently heard the commotion in the ward, opened the door and entered, interrupting the conversation between the two.
"My agreement to have someone stay here to care for him is already the biggest concession I can make to Dumbledore. Mr. Prince, it's time for you to visit your friend."
Mrs. Pomfrey had clearly finished the dessert Ian had given her; there was still some cream on her lips. Her act of eating it all up and then kicking him out left the young wizard quite helpless.
"Yes, Mrs. Pomfrey, I'll be right away."
He could only turn to Nick Flamel and say, "Be careful tonight, Harry might be replaced by that person. It would be best to try to contact our headmaster again."
Ian's concerns were not unfounded.
Based on what he knows...
Last night, Harry was clearly taken over by Voldemort's mind. Otherwise, how could his precious basilisk in the Chamber of Secrets have been devoured, leaving only some snake skin and bones?
"Don't worry, I don't want to die yet, so I'm well prepared. I'll continue to try to contact Dumbledore, and you'd better find that diary at school as soon as possible." Nick Flamel nodded, giving Ian his instructions. It was understandable to entrust such a task to a second-year student.
after all.
In terms of combat strength.
This young wizard is definitely no weaker than the headmasters, and may even be superior in dark magic—Nick Flamel, who guided Ian's alchemy studies for a year, also recognized the young wizard's strength.
"no problem."
Ian made an OK sign.
Urged on by Madam Pomfrey, Ian left the school infirmary. The corridor remained deserted and empty. After leaving the infirmary, Ian walked slowly down the corridor. The moonlight outside the window was obscured by dark clouds, and low growls echoed from the distant Forbidden Forest, as if foreshadowing something bad.
"Ta-da~"
Just as Ian was about to begin a thorough search, stealthily searching every college and every dormitory, he suddenly heard a faint sound of footsteps.
He stopped and listened intently.
The footsteps grew closer, seemingly heading in his direction. The young wizard looked up, only to see the footsteps suddenly stop, and a figure flash past around the corner.
It was as if they were avoiding him.
"Who's there?"
The figure disappeared quickly; if Ian hadn't been so sharp-eyed, he might not have caught a glimpse of it. He only caught a glimpse of the hem of a robe, the dark green of a Slytherin house robe.
"Tom?"
Ian drew his wand and quickly ran after him.
Turn the corner.
Ian saw the mysterious figure's robe again.
The other person was moving towards the abandoned washroom on the second floor. Perhaps realizing that someone was following them, the figure immediately took off running.
The feeling of guilt is very strong.
"Wait for me, dear brother!"
The green light at the tip of Ian's wand was poised to burst forth, as if it were about to unleash a deadly spell. He saw the other person moving toward the abandoned washroom on the second floor.
When Ian caught up with the abandoned bathroom door, he didn't push it open. Instead, he stood next to the wall and used magic to pass through it, hoping to catch his opponent off guard.
however.
When Ian entered the abandoned washroom, it was empty except for the dripping of a faucet. A trail of wet footprints led to the entrance of the collapsed secret passage.
"She's deliberately trying to seduce me."
Ian used Parseltongue to open the door to the secret chamber and stepped into the chamber, which had collapsed earlier. The rubble at the entrance clearly showed signs of being moved.
A cleared passage wound downwards. A soft glow rose from the tip of the wand, illuminating the narrow passage, and Ian instantly transformed into a wisp of white mist and plummeted downwards.
When Ian's body reformed.
He arrived at the bottom of the secret chamber, where the collapsed chamber was covered with rubble. Some of the ruins had been cleared away, and Ian slowly walked forward along the cleared path.
An eerie atmosphere permeated the area, with faint shadowy figures flickering on the walls. Ian didn't turn around; instead, he unleashed a [Blazing Path] attack on his surroundings.
The raging flames illuminated everything.
Countless screaming snakes fell and turned to ashes.
Terrifying magic.
Even the huge boulders were not spared.
"So, you insist on stopping me?"
A somewhat annoyed voice rang out.
The firelight illuminated the ruins of the secret chamber, as well as the cleared area.
In a cleared area, the ground was covered with water, and a few eerie green glows floated on the surface. In the center of the clearing lay a pale-faced girl.
Pansy Parkinson.
The girl I saw at the Slytherin table at noon.
at this time.
Her robes were soaked, and she lay unconscious on the flooded ground, a broken wand clutched tightly in her hand. A figure in a Slytherin robe was crouching on the ground with his back to them, intently drawing something. Ian's arrival did not stop him; instead, it made him speed up the drawing of runes.
"Damn it! Just a little bit more!" The man's movements were practiced and swift, the tip of his wand drawing glowing lines on the ground, clearly drawing a complex magic circle.
"You want to use this girl to complete your resurrection? Tsk tsk... Looks like you're the teenage Riddle I've been looking for." Ian wasn't going to give this guy any chance.
"The forbidden spell has ended!"
Ian waved his wand, releasing a spell derived from "All Curses End," an improved version of the spell he made because he didn't want to stick his wand into the ground.
All I saw was...
As Ian chanted the spell.
A powerful, invisible force surged forth from Ian's body.
It swept through the entire chamber like a violent storm. This power not only destroyed all the obstacles in its path, but also brutally erased the shimmering runes on the ground.
It was as if an invisible hand had destroyed all the efforts of the green-robed mystery man. As the magical runes on the ground disappeared, the dark aura that had permeated the cave gradually dissipated.
"No! You can't do this to me!"
The figure in green robes watched as all his efforts came to naught.
He collapsed and slammed his fist into the ground.
The splashing water.
His hair was completely soaked.
"This is for my precious basilisk." Ian raised his wand nonchalantly, the green light aimed at the green-robed mystery, the killing curse ready to be unleashed did not frighten the other party.
"You idiot! You moron!"
The boy in the green robe slowly got up from the ground.
He roared angrily.
"You've chosen the wrong target for your revenge! I wasn't the one who killed the basilisk! It was another traitor like me! I was clearly framed by him!"
The boy in the green robe slowly turned around. He threw away his drawing tools, drew his holly wand from his waist, and looked at Ian with resentful eyes.
"Um?"
Ian's expression froze slightly, and his pupils suddenly contracted—his expression became extremely incredulous because he saw the other person's face beneath his wet hair.
And... that conspicuous scar.
(End of this chapter)