Chapter 418: Remnant Soul
Chapter 418: Remnant Soul
Deep into the night, on a somewhat desolate mountain.
A dilapidated house, covered in ivy, stood among the hills, surrounded by the glow of spells. Felix paid no attention to it. He glanced at the dark, empty window on the top floor, gently pushed the door open, and stepped inside. The room was eerily quiet.
He walked down a dim corridor, which ended at an ancient door.
As he got closer, he heard some sounds—rasping, wheezing noises like those of a failing bellows, thin and intermittent, as if from a person clinging to life. There were other voices as well, tinkering with bottles and vials, followed by the sound of liquid being poured into a bottle.
"Bring the potion over!" a cold voice commanded.
Felix heard the sound of liquid being swallowed, followed by a painful groan. The person who drank the potion was enduring immense suffering, and it took a while before the groans ceased.
"You had better hope your son intercepted that house-elf, or you will suffer..." The cold voice seemed to be addressing someone, but Felix heard no response. He tapped his forehead lightly, and in the magic view, he saw three magic sources.
One appeared relatively normal, but the other two were shockingly evil.
Barty Crouch, Voldemort, and a Dark Wizard? What was special about Voldemort's current state, and why did Dumbledore disapprove of this mission?
Felix's mind raced as the communication mirror jingled in his pocket. He raised his wand, aiming at the direction with the more prominent magical aura. Black arcs of electricity gathered at the tip of his wand, ready to strike at any moment.
"Who's out there?" the cold voice asked.
"Whoosh!"
A bolt of black lightning shot through the wooden door. At the same time, Felix pushed the splintered door open and entered the room. His body glowed with the light of various protective items, and he wore a Windcloak made of dragon hide and Basilisk leather.
Inside the room, a magical barrier deflected his lightning. Felix took in the entire scene.
It was a simple room. Barty Crouch stood behind a chair, which was not unexpected. The chair held a swaddled bundle, and inside the bundle was a skeletal infant with no hair on its head or face, its skin covered in scales, dark and reddish, like wounded flesh.
The infant's arms and legs were thin and weak, and its face was a flat, snake-like visage with two narrow slits for eyes, from which an eerie red light emanated.
"Mr. Voldemort, I must say, despite being prepared, I was still taken aback when I saw you", Felix said amiably, but his gaze was fixed on the corner of the chair. There, a large snake, at least twelve feet long, was climbing up Barty Crouch's body, most of its body hidden behind him. The snake's head emerged from Crouch's neck, hissing.
Felix's initial target was that snake.
The snake's magic was more powerful than the weak, infant-like Voldemort! He had misjudged the main source based on the magic view, but perhaps not...
Horcrux.
The word flashed through Felix's mind.
Voldemort had used a living creature as a Horcrux. Had he never considered that when the creature died, the soul fragment would dissipate along with it?
Felix gained a true understanding of Voldemort's madness.
"Take Nagini and leave", Voldemort commanded from the chair.
At that moment, another bolt of black lightning appeared, aimed directly at Barty Crouch, specifically at the snake's head on his right neck.
"Zzzt!"
A grating sound of electricity followed as the black lightning was deflected, tearing a hole in the wall and allowing sparse moonlight to stream in.
Felix focused on Voldemort, who was gasping for breath, his chest wheezing like a bellows. This was impressive, considering that a mere potion and magic-constructed temporary body had managed to block his attacks twice.
He didn't intercept again. Barty Crouch had already vanished with the snake. Someone was waiting for them outside; Voldemort would likely be furious when he found out.
A pale fire slowly materialized behind him. Felix looked at Voldemort with interest and asked, "You're personally holding the rear. This is not what I expected from you... Are they important to you?"
"What makes you think such a ridiculous notion?" Voldemort said slowly, the two previous spells having left him exhausted. His infant-like body leaned against the chair back, looking like a pile of talking flesh.
His voice was raspy as he continued, "If you had experienced what I have, felt my despair, you would understand that even a puppet, a lowly house-elf, cannot be easily abandoned..."
"I see, you don't have enough people." Felix nodded slightly, now understanding why Shanshan had survived. The fire behind him continued to expand, and with a step, the fiery blaze flowed downward like water, starting from the tip of his toe and spreading wildly to both sides.
Two fire snakes converged behind Voldemort, forming a perfect circle that enclosed the chair Voldemort was sitting in. Then, the fire rose, forming white, chain-like fire ropes that crisscrossed and wove a tightly sealed web.
In this web, it would be difficult to use apparition or a Portkey.
"Using the fiery blaze to this extent, you've earned a place in my book", Voldemort said softly, showing no intention of escaping. It seemed he wanted to talk to Felix.
Felix looked at him calmly. After his conversation with Dumbledore, he knew he couldn't be too careful. However, a question inevitably arose in his mind: Why didn't Voldemort stop him? Was it because he couldn't?
"Are you wondering why I don't counterattack?" Voldemort's unsettling voice sounded again. "Don't worry, I can't do anything in my current state, my friend... A few months ago, I was wandering in the Albanian forest, possessing creatures for long periods. It was tedious, but I had no choice. At that time, I was even less than the lowliest wraith... Only by doing so could I find a faint sense of being alive."
"Until Peter Pettigrew found you."
Felix said. From the perspective of magic, within his line of sight, Voldemort was the only source of magic. There were no Portkeys or magical traps, only Voldemort's weak but extremely evil magic distorting his vision.
He suddenly realized that Voldemort truly wanted to talk because he had no means to resist.
"Yes, until Peter Pettigrew found me..." the raspy, cold voice continued. "A cowardly and weak servant, though I hesitate to admit it, but if he were still here, I would be more at ease. What a pity." His tone was as if he had lost a usable napkin.
"Peter Pettigrew was taken away by the Ministry of Magic and received the dementor's kiss", Felix stated.
"I know... He's dead, won't last a week", Voldemort said coldly. "I've conducted experiments to extend their lives as much as possible, but the results are often unsatisfactory."
"Back when you were still in your glory?" Felix asked.
"Just some idle tricks. When all your servants are out proclaiming your greatness, you need something to do for yourself. Some of my servants... Bella liked to torture, but I grew tired of it. I preferred to study dark magic, the dark arts, which are as captivating as a starless, deep night..."
Voldemort spoke in a drawn-out, polite tone. His voice was less grating than before, perhaps due to his manner, and Felix found himself thinking of an academic conference.
Then, Voldemort slowly said, "My friend, spread your fire a little more. We have enough time."
Felix remained unmoved, instead tightening the fire cage even further. His control over the fiery blaze was exceptional, and apart from the scorched marks on the ground, the room's other items remained unharmed.
"Do you have something to say? I'm still listening, but please understand my limited patience."
Voldemort let out a sneer. "I once thought of you as a second Dumbledore, but you lack his patience..."
"Voldemort, you always boast of your achievements in dark magic, but you can't defeat Dumbledore. Do you know how people evaluate your relationship? He is the only one you fear. I'm curious, would you let such rumors spread without a real lesson?"
"Dumbledore..." Voldemort muttered the name, his voice growing even colder. "That old man has hidden himself too well. Everyone has been deceived. He is a skilled hypocrite."
He sized up Felix, baring his teeth in a mocking grin. "Perhaps you all see him as just a rambling old man?"
"Isn't that the case? He's over a hundred years old", Felix probed, recognizing the value in his enemy's words.
Voldemort let out a contemptuous laugh but didn't follow Felix's lead. "I have studied you, studied you in detail... Felix Hep, I was surprised to find that our origins are quite similar", he said softly. "We both had no choice but to live in a Muggle orphanage, both gifted, yet bearing the weight of others' strange gazes—"
"Sorry, I was quite happy at the orphanage." Felix interrupted him.
"So that's how it is, a Muggle research expert... truly ironic. You're like my opposite." Voldemort's narrow eyes glinted red, his voice filled with nostalgia. "I once had the potential to be your colleague. Given your age, I might have even been your professor. Unfortunately, Dumbledore rejected me, without any mercy." Voldemort sighed. "He has always been that way."
"You must have been quite a troublemaker as a child, which is why he had such a bad impression of you." Felix teased.
Voldemort's narrow eyes widened, and his skull-like face came to life, contorted with intense emotion. "Another one, another one brainwashed by him. Felix Hep, I suddenly don't want to kill you. I want to see how he treats you when you clash with him. From what I understand, you're not exactly easy to deal with..."
Felix's gaze was intense as he sized Voldemort up. "Is this what it takes to become a Dark Lord? Unmatched arrogance and imagination?"
"Confidence and strategy", Voldemort corrected.
"Alright", Felix said softly. "Then, I need you to come with me. You should tell Dumbledore this in person. You two certainly have a lot of private matters to discuss."
"There will be a day, but not today. I will deliver a touching speech over his corpse." Voldemort said.
Felix spread his hands and then clapped them together. A bone-white fiery blaze converged in the center, forming a bone-white longsword that plunged downward.
He stepped back a few paces, squinting to see what Voldemort would do. To his surprise, the bone-white blaze sword pierced Voldemort's chest, flames splashing and engulfing his body, crackling fiercely.
Amidst the roaring fiery blaze, Voldemort let out a chilling scream, his narrow red eyes widening to their limits, his blood-red gaze fixed on Felix.
"Besides Dumbledore, you are the second person to bring me the feeling of death. I will remember you, Felix Hep!"
He screamed, his entire body turning into kindling for the fiery blaze. Felix watched as a shadowy figure rose from the flames, appearing as if formed from smoke, lacking any substance.
If in the fire, he was the fire; if in water, he was the reflection.
"You can't kill me, and I will return at any moment—" the shadow twisted, shrieking in pain.
"Whoosh!"
A blinding green light pierced the shadow, but the Killing Curse had no effect, as if striking air. Then, a silver glint flashed in Felix's eyes, and he used Mind Chamber and Legilimency in succession, but to no avail.
Trouble.
Felix thought to himself. His magic had no effect on Voldemort's shadow. He remembered the words:
Worse than the most wretched of ghosts...
But his hands remained steady. This was his first encounter with Voldemort, and both were somewhat surprised. Voldemort had protected his Horcrux first, and Felix pretended not to know. He didn't know if Dumbledore had succeeded, but if not, he could set a deadly trap for their next meeting.
At the same time, Voldemort had to stay behind as bait. However, in his current state, he was powerless against Felix and had long been prepared to sacrifice this body. It was no great loss to him, and it gave him a chance to talk to Felix. If he could drive a wedge between Dumbledore and Felix, it would be even better.
Felix used this rare opportunity to cast spells skillfully—twisting gravity, black lightning, green fog, milky white light, golden fire—powerful magic surged through the Crouch residence, the magical lights bursting into countless brilliant sparks.
He was probing for Voldemort's remnant soul's weakness, but Voldemort paid no attention to these spells, passing through a silver shield and floating above the ceiling, which had a large hole in it, mocking:
"Quite the show, but to kill someone, one spell is enough!"
He left a hazy and venomous look, darting into the gray sky and vanishing in an instant.
After a moment of silence, Felix exhaled softly.
"Once I complete the Runic Script book and develop a Runic Script array to target you, let's see how you run then." He said with a hint of dissatisfaction, but he realized it would be difficult to deal with Voldemort in this state.
Voldemort was still far from being a true living being, so far that normal means could not affect him. There was no recorded magic in history that could target such a state.
Perhaps this was why Dumbledore knew Voldemort's remnant soul was wandering in the Albanian Forest but took no action.
"Magic... memories... emotions... a projection of existence, this is his true form? Hovering in the gap between life and death, relying on the Horcruxes to leave a trace. If all Horcruxes were destroyed before his rebirth, would he lose his anchor in the real world?"
Felix pondered. When he saw the decayed Horcrux of Herpo the Foul, similar thoughts had crossed his mind.
Despite Voldemort's disregard for his various spells, this was due to Voldemort's unique state. Neither could harm the other. From Voldemort's urgency to escape, it was clear he had some unknown weakness.
He thought quietly until a silver shadow suddenly appeared, descending upon the ruins.
Felix raised his arms, and the silver Phoenix Patronus landed on his slender fingers. Dumbledore's gentle voice echoed, "He escaped, burrowing underground... but I intercepted Barty and the snake."
The Phoenix spoke, then transformed into silver mist and vanished.
"You really are something", Felix said, staring at a framed photo on the table. In the photo, Barty Crouch embraced his wife, while a handsome young man stood on the other side.
He had already figured out who the spy in the castle was.
Felix turned and walked out of the house. Behind him, a fiery blaze roared like a dragon, engulfing the house in one fiery gulp. He threw the photo frame into the flames, standing in the cold night breeze, watching the fiery blaze rage.
"How can you not have anyone spreading your name, Voldemort?" he mused.
Felix raised his wand, reciting a spell he had obtained from Lucius Malfoy, "Morsmordre!" A green light shot out and soared into the sky.
A massive skull, composed of countless green, star-like elements, appeared. A large snake emerged from the skull's mouth, like a tongue. The skull ascended higher, emitting a brilliant light in a green mist, shining like a new constellation against the dark night sky.
In the distance, Dumbledore's figure appeared and disappeared. He shook his head, disapproving of Felix's actions, but he did not intervene. It was time for the Ministry of Magic to be on alert.
He turned and left, with much to handle tonight. At the very least, there was still a spy in the castle, and it was uncertain if they could catch him in time. Barty's injuries were severe, and it was a pity that the snake, which turned out to be a Horcrux, had died so quickly. He had heard nothing about this in the two-way mirror.
Felix waved his wand, and the fiery blaze extinguished, leaving only ruins behind.
He strode away, disappearing abruptly into the forest, leaving a low, deep voice lingering in the black night sky.
"Next time we meet, Voldemort, I hope you have recovered your body..."
...
A few minutes earlier—
Hogwarts Castle, Gryffindor dormitory, Harry jolted awake from his bed, his head pounding.
(End of Chapter)
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