Chapter 704: It's Time to Settle the Score!
Chapter 704: It's Time to Settle the Score!
"Ah, Sirius Black, the Black Family Traitor!" Voldemort's smile suddenly faded, his tone turning rather disappointed. "I had hoped you two would meet here and die together; it would have been a splendid scene..."
"So he escaped from here, didn't he?" Harry's deadened heart suddenly stirred with a spark of vitality as he eagerly asked.
"You can choose to believe that if you wish." Voldemort spoke slowly, a strange smile reappearing on his face. "But I think he might have preferred to die here!"
Harry paid no attention to Voldemort's words. A wave of joy welled up inside him, knowing that Sirius Black was still alive and had successfully escaped.
At least this was some good news!
Harry's emotional shift did not escape Voldemort's keen observation, and it thoroughly ruined the Dark Lord's post-resurrection joy.
"Where is that incompetent House-Elf?" Voldemort looked around, his voice menacing.
A brief disturbance rippled through the gathered crowd.
Moments later, a hideous, emaciated House-Elf was dragged out by the Death Eaters.
"Winky?" Harry immediately recognized her as Mr. Crouch's House-Elf, whom he had met at the Quidditch World Cup.
Winky ignored Harry's call, trembling all over, her large, bulbous eyes filled with terror.
"Come here, you fool!" Voldemort glared at her viciously. "Potter has kindly reminded me that I haven't yet punished your incompetence and negligence!"
"Master, Winky... Winky was knocked out..." Winky stammered, trying to defend herself.
"I don't want to hear your excuses!" Voldemort sneered, raising his wand and enunciating each word clearly. "Crucio!"
"Aaaah!" The intense pain made the poor House-Elf scream in agony, her body convulsing and thrashing on the ground.
The Death Eaters watched in fear, none of them daring to take pleasure in her suffering, for not long ago, some of them had endured the same torment.
"Stop it!" Harry, witnessing Winky's near-collapse, mustered the courage to shout.
However, Voldemort showed no intention of stopping, merely enjoying Winky's contorted expression.
After nearly half a minute, Winky's screams died down, her face covered in snot and tears, her body lying motionless on the ground like a dying fish, twitching occasionally.
Only then did Voldemort seem to lose interest in tormenting the House-Elf. He lowered his wand and turned to Harry. "Don't be so impatient, Potter. Your turn will come soon enough!"
"Now, let's continue what we started earlier!" Voldemort's red eyes gleamed in the darkness as he casually uttered a single word. "Duel!"
Harry took a deep breath, gripping his wand tightly in his right hand. He knew there was no turning back; resistance was his only option!
But facing the Dark Lord, whose name countless wizards dared not speak, a sense of despair began to creep into Harry's heart.
Think fast, I've learned so many spells this year...
Harry's mind raced, his dueling experience limited to a few practice sessions with Ron and Hermione.
Defense, build a defense first!
"Protegos~ (Protego)" Harry suddenly remembered this, and his wand quickly pointed at himself. An invisible magic barrier soon enveloped his entire body.
"Good! Protego. To master it at your age, it seems Dumbledore has been teaching you well!" Voldemort's interest piqued slightly, and he said with some surprise.
Under the protection of Protego, Harry gradually regained some courage. His eyes were fixed on Voldemort's every move, ready to defend against any attack!
But Harry soon realized he was being too naive. Voldemort merely raised his hand slightly, and an indescribable pain filled Harry's mind, as if someone was continuously scraping his skin with a scalding knife. His head felt like it was about to explode.
Harry tried to stifle his cries, but the pain quickly shattered his resolve, and sharp, agonized screams kept bursting from his mouth.
"It seems Dumbledore didn't tell you that Protego can't defend against certain specific spells!" Voldemort watched Harry's pain with satisfaction, then continued in a mentor-like tone, almost gently.
"Moreover... the effectiveness of magic also depends on who is using it!"
As he spoke, Voldemort swung his wand again, and a thick, black beam flashed through the air.
The Protego barrier crumbled like paper, breaking in less than a second. Harry watched in horror as the black light struck him, and his body seemed to fly through the air, rolling and crashing into a tombstone behind him.
Harry's right hand still clutched his wand tightly. As he landed, he desperately tried to get up, but his entire body ached severely. He almost fell into a pit that Peter had dug but hadn't yet filled.
Tom Riddle's name on the tombstone caught Harry's eye, and he suddenly felt that after today, his name might be the one on the stone—assuming Voldemort was willing to erect a marker for him.
"I must say, you disappoint me, Potter!" Voldemort approached step by step, speaking coldly.
"I thought you would be something special! They all say you are my nemesis, but you don't seem as remarkable as they claim. You just have some good luck! Now, there's no one else to die in your place!"
Mentioning his mother, Harry's anger flared up, dispelling the fear that had gripped his mind. He spat out his words with hatred. "We're the same, Voldemort! You're not great either! Everyone hates and despises you!"
"Is that so? You'll soon see differently!" Voldemort sneered, raising his wand again. A dark green light flickered faintly.
"It's time to end this, Potter! Avada Kedavra! (Avada Kedavra)" Voldemort casually intoned the spell, and a green beam shot from the tip of his wand.
The fear of death made Harry's heart skip a beat. He knew Protego couldn't defend against the Killing Curse, and his weakened body couldn't dodge the spell.
Death was approaching, but Harry was not willing to submit. He wanted to die fighting, like his parents.
"Expelliarmus~ (Expelliarmus)" Harry shouted at the top of his lungs, swinging his wand with all his might.
(End of Chapter)
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