Chapter 650: Riddle's Disappearance
Chapter 650: Riddle's Disappearance
Ron stepped out of the common room and glanced in the familiar direction. Harry, Hermione, Ginny, and Neville were all there. He walked over, and Hermione was fiddling with her Book of Runes, a long string of Ancient Runes dangling like a charm bracelet from her wrist.
The string of Runes had no practical effect; Hermione simply put them together for amusement.
She occasionally glanced at the table, where the others were playing Wizard Cards. Harry’s Magic Minions sat listlessly in mid-air, two warriors eyeing each other warily, ready to pounce at any moment.
Ron stood by the side, and Ginny noticed him but ignored him, instead urging Harry to play his card faster.
Harry turned around, surprised, and said, “Ron?” His tone was feigned as he added, “Can you help me figure out how to lose, I mean... how to play?”
“Don’t even think about cheating,” Ginny growled.
Ron hesitated, then pulled a piece of paper from his pocket and laid it on the table. “Professor Hup asked me to give this to you. You should read it... I, I asked, and it should be safe.”
“What are you talking about? Harry could never be in danger,” Ginny glared at him, clearly annoyed.
Harry took the paper and scanned it, his expression changing slightly. “What’s up with Professor, Harry?” Hermione asked, sensing something was off with Ron’s behavior.
“Nothing, it’s about the Patronus,” Harry replied, giving her a look that said, “We’ll talk later.” He didn’t want Ginny to know. He tucked the paper into his pocket and said, “Um—thanks, Ron. Why don’t you—”
“No thanks,” Ron mumbled. “I’m a bit tired.” He shuffled off toward the dormitory. A few seconds of silence followed, and then Ginny’s urging voice came again. Harry responded and played his card. The Magic Minion representing him let out a cry as it was taken down by Ginny and Neville’s combined efforts.
The next day, Felix and Dumbledore arrived early at Classroom Seven, working together to complete the preparations.
Not far below the ouroboros, there was a magical area that glowed like a luminescent cage. This was their creation.
“The time is almost right. I’ll go check,” Felix said. Sure enough, he found Harry looking around outside, clearly expecting the professor and headmaster to be on either side of the corridor, completely unaware of the closed door behind him. When Felix poked his head out and called to him, Harry was quite surprised.
“This is for your protection,” Felix explained, pointing to the cage-like magical structure. Harry stood inside uncomfortably, looking up at the arcs of magic hanging above him, feeling much like Hedwig in her cage.
Felix and Dumbledore exchanged a glance and began casting.
The massive ouroboros slowly came to life, its mouth opening wide as Voldemort emerged. He looked much the same, still that evil, half-dead figure.
Two bright beams shot from Felix’s eyes, and Voldemort’s crimson eyes snapped open. In a voice filled with hatred, he shouted, “Felix Hep—” At the same time, deep within his memory, Riddle felt the world he had lived in for thirty years start to crumble.
“Professor Riddle!” a student cried out in panic.
“Silence,” Riddle said, feigning calm despite his inner terror, his mind sluggish with shock. He looked up from the fourth-floor Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom and saw the clear blue sky split open—Hogwarts Castle was cracking.
The next second, the sky itself split in half, and a sickly red light poured through the cracks. Riddle saw a hideous, snakelike face, the red light emanating from the eyes. He also heard a voice filled with rage, “Felix Hep!”
Who was that? Riddle was momentarily stunned. Then a flood of information rushed in, and he understood everything almost instantly.
He... was just a memory? Riddle found this absurd.
Harry was so tense he almost lost his voice, clenching his fists, unsure what to do. In his eyes, Professor Hup simply glanced at Voldemort, and Voldemort awoke from his slumber. Even bound by the ouroboros and the Patronus, he emitted a powerful, dark magic.
The area around them was corrupted and toxic, pitch-black like the dead of night.
He remembered Professor Hup saying Voldemort wouldn’t be happy to know, but now Harry thought that was an understatement. Voldemort was furious. He had never felt such humiliation.
The cage around Harry lit up first, followed by the ouroboros and the Patronus. Felix and Dumbledore’s figures flickered in and out of sight in the darkness. Felix held out his hand, and two Horcruxes floated in mid-air. Voldemort immediately sensed them and fixed his gaze on the locket and the cup.
“Dumbledore? No, you’re Felix Hep.” A young voice emerged from his mouth, filled with disbelief, but it was quickly replaced by a deep, raspy, and mad one.
“Hep, Dumbledore, you will not succeed! I will not let you!”
Voldemort was still restrained, but he was not powerless. For a powerful wizard like him, given time, no restriction was perfect. There were always ways to break and circumvent them. Especially since he had access to some of Riddle’s research on Patronuses, this was a godsend for his escape. He even abandoned the false memory, which he considered entirely fabricated.
"Riddle, this is your only chance now."
Felix transmitted a thought: seize the Horcrux's power, and with his and Dumbledore's help, reverse-merge with Voldemort, taking over the body. The knowledge of the Patronus that Riddle had been researching for years would serve as bait, preventing Voldemort from immediately striking him down.
Felix's hand made a "crackling" sound as he deformed the golden cup with sheer physical force. This had no effect on the Horcrux, not even if it were ground to powder, but his actions undoubtedly roused the slumbering soul fragment within.
A thick black smoke emerged from the gaps between his fingers, coalescing into a young, handsome, and evil face. It hesitated, driven by almost instinctual awareness, sensing the main body issuing commands, urging it to return to the body.
Voldemort's mouth emitted a hoarse, agonized howl.
Because Voldemort had intentionally assimilated the knowledge of the Patronus carried by the new personality, and because they were originally one, the deepest, darkest secrets of Voldemort's heart were laid bare before Riddle. These secrets were filled with unrestrained killings, cruel and bloody experiments, and twisted desires for torture and domination.
Riddle was horrified by the evil past of this "other self." Was this what he would have become if he had followed the original path?
In a sense, Felix's plan had worked.
Under his influence—or threat—Riddle had never left the school for extended periods. Most of his time was spent teaching students and dealing with Aurors from the Ministry of Magic. Whatever cruel thoughts he harbored, he never acted on them. At this moment, he felt as if he were in a realm of ghosts, an uncontrollable emotion welling up from within.
The black smoke from Hufflepuff's Cup surged toward Voldemort.
"No—no regrets—never—"
Dumbledore held his old wand and cast a complex spell. Felix used Memory Magic to assist the weakened Riddle. Together, they temporarily suppressed Voldemort's will, allowing Riddle to gain the upper hand, though he felt no joy.
"Dumbledore, is all of this a lie?" Riddle snarled at Felix.
Felix remained silent.
"What do I mean to you, a convenient tool?" he shouted, his voice clearer, having regained some strength from the Horcrux's soul fragment. The locket Horcrux also reacted, releasing a surge of black smoke.
Harry suddenly collapsed, convulsing.
The scar on his forehead throbbed painfully, as if a living entity within him had awakened and was stretching its limbs, stirring his mind into chaos. The pain was excruciating, and Harry pounded his skull, feeling the entity trying to pry open his cranium, with black smoke seeping out through his scar, mouth, and nose.
At that moment, the birdcage-like space he was in offered him protection. At the nexus of the magic, a black gem ring shone brightly.
"Tell me, Dumbledore!" Riddle's accusation echoed through the room.
"If you must know—" Felix's voice came from the black fog, "you were the most exceptional student I ever taught, and the warrior I personally groomed for the battlefield."
The black fog surged like a sea.
Harry could no longer hear their conversation. The soul from the locket returned to Voldemort's body first, but at that moment, the desperate Voldemort made a final, desperate move.
He obliterated two of his own soul fragments.
The black smoke that had emerged from Harry's forehead returned to his body in an instant. "If you have the nerve, kill him, kill that boy!" Voldemort's snake-like face twisted in a snarl. "He's the last one, the last one! Dumbledore, Albus, you must be as ruthless as I am!"
Voldemort's counterattack was swift and vicious, catching them off guard.
"Albus—" Felix said, opening his Mind Room. This magic had no effect on Voldemort's soul but worked on memories. On the other side, Dumbledore used the Ouroboros to swallow Voldemort.
Voldemort roared and struggled wildly within the Ouroboros, but his voice grew weaker, eventually fading to silence.
Felix closed his eyes, and before him appeared a multitude of silver-glowing stars converging in one direction. After a moment, he reached out and gathered them. When he opened his eyes, he saw Dumbledore examining Harry's condition.
"Is there any hope for him?" Dumbledore asked softly, referring to Riddle.
Felix shook his head.
"Sometimes, we have no choice", Dumbledore said.
Felix smiled. "No need to comfort me. I know what I'm doing and am prepared to face the consequences... How is Harry?"
"Being young has its advantages; they never lack courage", Dumbledore mused. Then, he grew serious. "It's not looking good. The soul fragment is still active, and Voldemort was too decisive. If he had hesitated just a little longer, it might have worked. The problem now is that the fragment is still active and must be dealt with quickly... Let's take him to the hospital wing."
The old man gazed deeply at Harry.
Black smoke still seeped from Harry's forehead, the lightning-shaped scar as red as blood.
Dumbledore felt transported back to years ago, when Hagrid had handed him the infant in a blanket.
(End of Chapter)
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