pdf-ebookys Chapter 113, Section 112: The Death of the Dark Lord! The Deathly Hallows!
Chapter 113, Section 112: The Death of the Dark Lord! The Deathly Hallows!
Chapter 113, Section 112: The Death of the Dark Lord! The Deathly Hallows!
Helena Ravenclaw and Ian disappeared together in the Ravenclaw common room.
This is also why Ian dared to drink the water of life and death. It wasn't just his soul that could enter the dreamlike illusion, but also his physical body, which could carry all sorts of things.
In the fireplace, the flames flickered gently, making a warm, soft crackling sound, the only noise in the tranquil space. The young wizards slept soundly in their bedrooms, and Ravenclaw's common room returned to silence. Impossible miracles always happen quietly, alongside many ordinary things.
At this very moment, Professor Flitwick was in his bedroom studying the intricacies of the Patronus Charm. Ravenclaw's curiosity and the sense of responsibility of a Charms professor were driving him to forgo sleep and study Ian's condition day and night. Hogwarts might have another professor with dark circles under his eyes because of Ian.
Professor McGonagall wasn't asleep either. She stopped the Gryffindor students from trying to modify the Levitation Charm and severely criticized and educated the reckless men and women who tried to summon a bison in the common room. After making the leaders reflect deeply, she turned around and, itching to do the same, summoned a bison in her own common room.
The commotion was Professor McGonagall's attempt to conceal her true nature, while Hufflepuff's Headmistress Pomona Sprout, after being forced by Snape to give Professor Quirrell a thorough examination, was fast asleep with the young wizards, while Snape, who had taken up several hours of her time, was still staying up all night.
Quirrell was still trying to secretly contact his master, while Snape, who had been following him, was spying from a corner.
The large bat in the shadows silently recorded Quirrell's every word and action. It even meticulously recorded the few times he picked his nose, as it needed to report all of this to the person who had asked it to "take care" of Quirrell.
As for the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, he didn't sleep either. He spent the entire night sitting in front of a document, flipping through the biographies and resumes of all the faculty and staff of Hogwarts.
"There's actually a third—intervener."
He seemed to have discovered something strange, and drew a few circles on a piece of parchment.
The miracles Ian brought were hidden among the various trivialities of Hogwarts, with only the silent statue of Ravenclaw witnessing his and Lady Helena's disappearance.
However, it is not unknown to anyone.
In the headmaster's office on the eighth floor of the castle, Dumbledore, with his disheveled hair, was flipping through an ancient book when he suddenly looked up and his expression changed slightly as if he had noticed something.
The candlelight illuminated his face, causing his slightly disheveled beard to tremble gently.
"It seems the new students next year will have no chance to meet such a learned and elegant lady." Dumbledore's deep blue eyes shimmered behind his half-moon lenses.
Just like the candles placed on the desk that illuminate the entire office.
"It's an incredible talent. We're practically witnessing history and legend—you agree, Fox," he sighed softly, looking at the phoenix preening its feathers in the distance.
"Clang clang!"
Fox's voice was very crisp.
It's like a response.
"Yes, if you can bring it in, you can bring it out. But I'm past the age where I can be willful. I need to consider the potential consequences and curb my selfishness in wanting to rebel." Dumbledore took out the letter Ian had brought from the drawer, as if he could see the treasured photos inside through the envelope.
"We will meet again and reunite. For me, that day is not far away. But before that, I need to do what I should do in this world."
"Only then can I go there in peace and tell you about my past, which wasn't so terrible." He gently stroked the envelope in his hand, his soft murmur seeming to be a soliloquy.
The candlelight flickered.
Just like the eyes behind the glasses.
"Brother Albus, if you become the headmaster of Hogwarts, can I go to school too?" Dumbledore seemed to hear the childish whisper from a century ago. Of course, he had considered ending his life early to reunite with his family, but the letter Ian brought ultimately dispelled that idea.
He wanted to live the final stage of his life to the fullest.
As she wished.
Just like the rest of my life after that incident.
Perhaps it wasn't the dream of teaching and nurturing that trapped Dumbledore's ambition, but rather the unfulfilled aspirations from his sister's childhood that were the true lock he sought for himself.
The sky was no longer blue with white clouds, but a swirling, gray mist, occasionally streaked with lightning, accompanied by thunderous roars, yet no rain fell. At the edge of this sky, several majestic volcanoes could be vaguely seen, their lava flowing like rivers, illuminating the surrounding chaos.
The Water of Life and Death is really effective.
Ian, who had fallen asleep immediately, felt a sudden heaviness in his head, and when he woke up again, he was no longer in the Ravenclaw common room, having arrived in another world along with Helena Ravenclaw.
It is neither the brightness of day nor the darkness of night.
"The World of the Dead—"
Helena Ravenclaw looked around. Her body had returned to its normal color from being transparent, and she had regained many of the senses that had been taken away when she became a ghost.
"This is not something Merlin could do, little Ian." Helena Ravenclaw raised her hand, looking incredulously at her skin, which had regained its fair complexion.
Before this moment arrived, she had certainly imagined that Ian would use some kind of ancient magic to send her to the underworld, and she also guessed that Ian might control some kind of mysterious alchemical artifact that could communicate with the afterlife.
only.
Even Helena Ravenclaw's boldest guesses, and even those fantasies that she considered somewhat far-fetched, never imagined that Ian's methods would be so exaggerated and bizarre!
A living person!
And it even brought a ghost with it!
How could they cross the line between life and death so simply?
Even the most absurd biographies could never contain such a heaven-defying phenomenon! It's not magic, not a ritual; it's a power that Helena Ravenclaw simply cannot comprehend!
"You have performed a miracle!"
Helena Ravenclaw's feelings were incredibly complex, a mixture of excitement, nervousness, shock, and uncertainty. The way she looked at Ian was completely different now.
"My Transfiguration professor once told me that wizards are gods."
Ian wiped the sweat from his forehead.
Having been in this world for over ten years, he had never tried to lead someone across the boundary between life and death. He never expected that such an action would make him feel somewhat tired, just like casting a high-intensity spell.
Fortunately, they did not fail in the end.
However, some things were beyond his expectations—he didn't go to the town, nor to Professor Morgan's castle, nor even to Mrs. Ravenclaw's island.
This was a completely unfamiliar area. He wasn't sweating because he was exhausted, but because the place he and Helena Ravenclaw had arrived at made him nervous and feverish.
Lava flowed like rivers, and volcanoes stood tall in the distance like mountain peaks. It would be strange if such an environment wasn't hot; his sensitivity to temperature was completely different from that of the souls.
"Can wizards be understood as gods? --" Helena Ravenclaw didn't feel the heat at all; she was just completely bewildered by Ian's response and feedback.
Throughout history, the saying that shamans are gods has been widely circulated and resounding.
however.
Any wizard should be able to recognize that it is just a metaphor, a rhetorical device, a way for wizards to praise magic. No wizard would actually believe that wizards are gods.
Everyone's just trying to elevate their own status and, incidentally, demonstrate the wonder of magic. It's been like this for years, so why is there now someone who actually believes it?
Oh, a little wizard who's only ten or so? That makes sense—but while it makes sense, how did you actually manage to do something only a god could do after believing it to be true?!
exist?
Can you be reasonable?
Magic is truly amazing!
But it certainly can't be that amazing!
"I know this is unusual, but after so many years of development in the wizarding world, you should be familiar with all sorts of bloodlines. The Dumbledore family can even summon a phoenix."
Ian felt uncomfortable under Helena Ravenclaw's gaze. His hurried attempts to explain and make amends failed to convince the woman, and instead made her look at him even more strangely.
"This is not blood, child."
Helena Ravenclaw may not have been as learned and intelligent as her mother, but she was still a well-informed person who came from an era when magical research was even more fanatical than it is now.
"It is an authority that wizards should not touch. This means you must be favored by the gods of this place." Helena Ravenclaw bowed slightly to Ian.
This was the most reasonable explanation she could think of.
"Perhaps."
Ian nodded without refuting. He had actually had doubts about this all along. How could he travel between the two worlds? The woman's mother had once said that he had made his home here. Perhaps this was because during the initial period of confusion after his transmigration, he was trapped in a dreamlike illusion and had not been reincarnated.
The years and dates have become blurred.
It will definitely take a long time.
It's not impossible to become a privileged "civil servant," and to be able to transform into a wizard with all one's memories intact upon turning around—who knows, one might have pulled strings with their "superior." In the world of Harry Potter, gods do exist; the family of the Hogwarts professors once served the sun god.
of course.
This could just be a bunch of ancient people bragging. But since the mystical realm and the deeper underworld have always existed, such a place must have administrators to function properly.
"I don't think this is the time for us to think about these kinds of things. To be honest, I'm not sure how to get you to your mother. This place is different from any place I've been before." Ian reached for his wand, then realized that he couldn't bring it in. He could only raise his hand and keep wiping his sweat.
It's really hot.
The towering volcanoes, like the angry eyes of ancient gods, constantly spew out flames intertwined with dark red and golden hues. The lava slowly undulates along the edge of the crater, as if the restless heart of hell is beating restlessly.
Each eruption of magma was accompanied by a deafening roar and a heart-pounding heat wave, baking the space like a furnace.
"Places you've been before? Do you come here often?" Helena Ravenclaw didn't seem to care about getting lost; instead, she caught some alarming details in Ian's words.
"From childhood to adulthood, I've been forced to come here every now and then. It's not something I can control, but now I've learned how to enjoy this unique experience." Ian looked helplessly at the distant volcano. He had nothing to hide from a ghost who had already stepped into the world of the dead.
"Such a leap can be made without paying any price—" Helena Ravenclaw's eyes flickered, and she looked at Ian with a hint of surprise and uncertainty.
This was completely different from the Chosen Ones she knew. You see, ritual magic and sacrificial magic weren't originally used by ordinary wizards.
"This is the price, ma'am!" Ian showed a large puddle of sweat on his hands, but thankfully he had brought his money pouch with him, allowing him to pull out a bag of salt and a bottle of lemonade and gulp them down. After several layers of expansion spells, Ian's money pouch had become an unfathomable depth.
His goal this semester is to be able to fit the entire Hogwarts.
"You can't replenish your body's salt like that—"
Helena Ravenclaw couldn't stand it anymore, so she took Ian's salt and lemonade and made him a bottle of diluted salt water.
"The proportions should be fine."
She handed the lightly salted water to Ian.
Ian immediately put on his signature move of chugging the food in one gulp.
"Actually, injecting sterile saline solution into the body would be more effective, but I'm not that dehydrated yet." Ian was simply too lazy to prepare the solution.
"Of course, if I stay in this godforsaken place any longer, I think I'll be close to collapsing on the ground and getting heatstroke." Ian tried to cast a freezing spell on his hands to cool himself down.
However, after struggling for a long time, he still couldn't conjure a complete spell. Wandless spellcasting is the most difficult operation for any wizard who is used to wand guidance.
"What are you doing?"
Helena Ravenclaw watched as Ian raised his hands, sometimes with bubbles appearing on them, sometimes with clumps of ice. The little wizard's face was filled with a look of utter frustration.
"I was thinking that when I get back, maybe I should cut off all ten of my fingers, make them into wands, and then put them back in." In the end, Ian reluctantly chose to give up.
Helena Ravenclaw had no idea how to answer Ian's question. She felt that it was a waste of the young wizard's talent to be assigned to her current house.
This little guy should go to Flip-Over Alley for further training.
Tom Riddle turned his soul into a Horcrux, while Ian Prince wanted to transform all his fingers into wands. Sure enough, the more male wizards looked, the more ruthless they were to themselves—Helena Ravenclaw, who used to be love-struck, now began to feel a bit of fear towards the male wizards with their teacherly airs.
"We need to get out of this place that even dogs wouldn't want to stay. If we could find a black sea..."
"Perhaps I can find a way back to the isolated island where I first met your mother." Ian pulled out a compass, but it was useless; the needle spun wildly like a top.
Forget about finding south, it's even difficult to stop the pointer from spinning.
"As expected, this is something you and my mother agreed upon. No wonder you've been trying so hard to persuade me these past few days." Helena Ravenclaw didn't seem to be in a hurry at all.
She seemed to have figured out the ins and outs of many things.
Helena Ravenclaw even understood the portrait of Rowena Ravenclaw in Hogwarts, which is why she's not in a hurry now.
"Hogwarts is a place with a lot of gossip, so I could only try to hint at it to you. Fortunately, you didn't keep your mother waiting too long." Ian started walking away from the volcano.
Beneath your feet, there is no longer solid ground or soft grass, but an endless road paved with obsidian, each step accompanied by a faint echo like a low hiss.
The stones are covered with strange patterns that sometimes shimmer with a ghostly blue or dark red light, like the faint pulse of hellfire beneath the earth.
It was extremely hot to the touch.
"You want to get out of here?"
Helena Ravenclaw followed, her cautious and nostalgic demeanor evident as she hadn't walked on her own two feet in a long time.
"I have to take you to your mother." Ian didn't just want to get away from the sweltering volcano; he was also worried that Helena Ravenclaw would be left alone there when his time was up.
It's really unpleasant when a well-intentioned act turns into a bad thing.
"Thank you, but I think we can just stay here and wait." Helena Ravenclaw didn't break a sweat; she must be a cold woman who doesn't know the hardships of a hot man.
"Perhaps the Ravenclaw ancestors will come looking for you, but no one can be sure. My understanding of this place is actually not much better than that of other wizards."
Ian quickened his pace.
The surrounding mountains and land were utterly desolate, with only dark rocks and no plants or animals. This was a barren land that even the dead would not dare approach; not even the smallest insect or plant could be found. There was no human clamor, no whispering of souls.
There was only a depressing, undulating landscape to watch the lava eruption.
To avoid the atmosphere becoming too quiet, Ian sighed softly to Helena Ravenclaw, "To be honest, I don't even know why we're here. According to the theory my teacher taught me, my inner desires will guide me to the land corresponding to the Mystic Realm."
"This theory now seems obviously unreliable. How could I possibly want to come to such a godforsaken place?"
"Ian suddenly remembered something as he was talking."
He immediately pulled the golden box Grindelwald had given him from his purse. "Tell me! It was you two devils who longed to live in this godforsaken place!"
Inside the golden box were Voldemort's two Horcruxes: the Resurrection Stone ring and Slytherin's locket. Just as other wizards with obsessions could choose their final resting place after death, the desires of two lingering souls might indeed be greater than those of a mere wizard like him. No one knew what kind of judgment criteria the Mystic Realm had.
Faced with Ian's questioning.
The two remnant souls were curled up in the deepest part of the Horcrux—of course, they wouldn't respond; before being triggered, the remnant souls existed in a state like wild beasts.
"You actually brought something like this in here!" Helena Ravenclaw gasped in disbelief as she saw the Horcrux in Ian's hand.
"I was just taking Tom home, I never expected him to want to be the Dark Lord Sauron. This must be his dream Mordor. Tom must have read The Lord of the Rings when he was making Horcruxes!" Ian insisted that all the trouble he was going through was because of Tom Riddle. His rant was actually much more reasonable than "ignoring the facts."
Aside from the presence of wizards, this world is largely similar to Ian's original world in its development, while *The Lord of the Rings* was published between 1954 and 1955. It is not only very famous in the Muggle world,
It is rare in the wizarding world to be a story or biography that is based on history.
There is a significant amount of fictional content.
However, it certainly contains more truth than Lockhart's "I Am Magic".
"Perhaps we could just throw them into the volcano," Helena Ravenclaw suddenly suggested, her voice carrying a subtle hint of gritted teeth.
It's clear that this woman has been very restrained in controlling her emotions.
"This is the Resurrection Stone, the Earth Goddess, and the Slytherin locket. I just want to get Tom out of there." Ian was reluctant to part with the two ancient treasures.
"That guy is such a despicable and shameless scoundrel! He tricked me out of my mother's crown back then, and I never imagined that the Horcruxes he chose for himself would be such renowned treasures!"
Helena Ravenclaw was also somewhat surprised. She recognized the Slytherin locket, but she didn't expect that the gem on the other ring was the even more significant Resurrection Stone.
The Three Deadly Relics!
A legend that has drawn wizards for thousands of years!
"Damn bastard! How come he has such good luck!" Helena Ravenclaw hated Voldemort to the core and was extremely resentful that Voldemort was able to obtain the Deathly Hallows.
"It's okay, his good luck has run out."
Ian shook the object in his hand vigorously a few times, trying to wake up all the dormant remnants of the soul within. He was still trying to grab Voldemort's remnants with his bare hands, but he still couldn't reach where they were.
"Perhaps you should pray to the master of this place?" Helena Ravenclaw lived a thousand years ago, when wizards were far more reverent towards the gods than modern wizards, and her hatred for Tom Riddle made her desperately want him to be punished by the gods.
"Fools who don't belong to this era, mysterious rulers of the gray fog, lords of yellow and black who hold good fortune---Here's a gold pound, quickly help me catch those two Toms in here!" Ian's mumbled "prayer" was obviously just nonsense, an attempt to lighten the mood; he had never learned how to pray properly.
Besides, even if he could pray, who would he pray to for help?
"I think it would be better to ask your mother. She once demonstrated for me how to catch Tom with her bare hands. Yes, the Tom that was hidden in your mother's crown."
Ian's words shocked Helena Ravenclaw.
however.
Before she could even vent her anger, she spoke.
"If you study the soul thoroughly enough, you will find that what I do is not difficult at all."
Suddenly, a gentle voice rang out from not far away.
A woman with long hair, dressed in a plain-colored robe, crossed the Black Sea and climbed over high mountains, walking gracefully towards us. Her long hair, shimmering with silver light, was even more dazzling in this dark and sunless place.
"Mother!"
Helena Ravenclaw gasped, her voice a complex mix of unease and joy. Almost instinctively, she wanted to hide behind Ian. However, Ian's size and physique were simply too much for her to conceal, and the thousand-year-old ghost could only crouch behind him.
Feeling Rowena Ravenclaw's gaze, Ian wisely jumped to the side. Without any cover, Helena Ravenclaw stood up like a frightened bird.
She squatted down, looking up at Rowena Ravenclaw who had walked up to her, at her mother who was far more radiant and younger than she remembered.
This perspective.
It's like going back to the time when I was a child and looked up to someone.
"Mother—it's you—you've always been here." Tears welled up in Helena's eyes; how could she not know why a soul would linger in a dreamlike illusion?
"Helena, my child, of course I'll wait for you here. You're even afraid to walk alone at night, how can I let you walk the rest of the way alone?" Rowena's voice was gentle yet powerful, as if it could penetrate all obstacles and reach the depths of Helena's heart.
She opened her arms to Helena, her smile incredibly warm, devoid of the sternness and reprimands Helena remembered, only a gentleness and apology that seemed to dispel all worldly grievances.
"I'm sorry, Mother, I was too willful."
Helena rushed into her mother's arms.
At this moment, Helena had a thousand words in her heart, and all kinds of emotions were surging and overlapping, but in the end, she simply let go of her thousand-year-old stubbornness and arrogance with a trembling voice.
"It was because I was too harsh on you in the past that all the misfortunes that followed occurred. Books taught me how to raise children, but they didn't teach me how to be a good mother." Rowena gently stroked Helena's hair, setting aside her pride and frankly admitting her past mistakes.
"Of course I know you mean well, but I'm still too rebellious and want to..." Helena said in a trembling voice, hugging her mother tightly.
She was like a little girl again.
"What happened before death is now history, child. We stand at a new beginning." Rowena interrupted Helena, gently wiping away the tears from the corners of Helena's eyes.
The mother and daughter embraced tightly.
In this hazy, dreamlike realm caught between life and death, fate brought them together again, allowing them to find inner peace and connection. The bond between mother and daughter will continue on their new journey.
The scene was very warm and inviting.
The visuals are also very beautiful.
It would have been much more harmonious if there hadn't been a random passerby lying on a rock nearby, constantly banging on Slytherin's locket with a stone, trying to knock out the remnant soul of Tom inside.
"Clang clang clang~"
The sound of knocking echoed in my ears.
Rowena Ravenclaw turned to Ian with a sigh, "Kid, what you're doing is useless. It can't separate the soul from the Horcrux."
Both mother and daughter looked at Ian, who was lying on the rock.
"Dumbledore actually told me this before, but right now I'm just torturing the Tom inside." Ian banged on Slytherin's Horcrux again.
Neither of the two Ravenclaws knew how to respond. They exchanged a glance, both feeling a vague sense that Ian might have been assigned to the wrong house.
"It's all this guy's fault for bringing us to this godforsaken place! Ravenclaw lady, look at me, my skin's turned black from the heat. In your day, I'd definitely be risked being forced to plant cotton." Ian's tone was full of indignation as he complained, having already drunk several cups of lightly salted water.
"When we were alive, there were no cotton plantations for black slaves yet," Helena couldn't help but remind her, even though she hadn't noticed any signs that the little wizard was turning black.
"But there are still black slaves," Rowena Ravenclaw added solemnly from the side, then stepped forward and took the locket and resurrection stone ring from Ian's hands. Of course, she could see what Ian's lingering kiss was up to; the little guy's thoughts were still as easy to guess as ever.
All I saw was...
Under Ian's watchful gaze, Rowena Ravenclaw reached out another hand and pulled out a dark, twisted object from each of the two treasures.
They were filled with all sorts of negative emotions, constantly rolling and twisting, trying to escape, but in Rowena Ravenclaw's hands, they could only be kneaded together and turned into a big lump of mud.
"You lowly vermin! You damned creatures! How dare you offend the great Dark Lord! I will tear your entire families to shreds!"
"No one can stop my return! You may find one—"—two of me! But there are many more of me in the world! I have laid the foundation for my immortality!"
Just like the remnant soul of Voldemort we encountered last time, this time the combined remnant soul seems to have a higher level of intelligence.
However, there's still a sense of madness, like someone's mind is completely out of control.
It howled and roared, its venomous curses sharp and piercing, like claws tearing at a blackboard.
"Shut up!"
Helena angrily berated Voldemort's remnant soul. Ian glanced at Rowena Ravenclaw.
This time, the founder did not intend to hand over Voldemort's remnant soul to him.
"I think this will bring peace to both you and it." Rowena Ravenclaw threw the combined remnant soul directly into the scorching, churning lava beside her.
"Gurgle gurgle~"
It sounded like the sound of brewing a magic potion.
"No! Where am I?! My magic! Why has my magic disappeared?!"
Voldemort's remnant soul struggled to break free from the lava, but the Dark Lord, who had once wreaked havoc in the wizarding world, appeared exceptionally small and helpless amidst the boundless hellfire.
There's no way!
The once invincible dark power has now been completely stripped away, leaving only a faint consciousness intertwined with resentment and fear, struggling to survive in the endless molten lava. The lava seemed to sense the existence of this remnant soul, churning even more violently, and tongues of fire, like greedy tentacles, mercilessly coiled around this weak soul.
"Aaaaaah!!"
"It shouldn't be like this! It shouldn't be like this!!" The remnant soul of the Earth Demon let out a silent lament in this extreme pain. It was a scream that transcended the pain of the mortal world. It was the despair and wailing from the depths of the soul, yet it echoed in this closed hell, with no one to listen and nowhere to escape.
It could only desperately watch itself being swallowed up by the lava bit by bit, until finally its hand was completely engulfed, and not even a wisp of black smoke rose from the lava. Its existence, along with its ambition and evil, was utterly burned away by the hellish lava, turning into nothingness.
All that remained was a sea of molten lava, blazing and churning.
It continues its eternal boiling.
"Wow! My darling! It's a really useful darling!"
Ian had hoped to increase his magic power by burning two Voldemort remnants, but Rowena Ravenclaw didn't give him that chance at all.
Who dares to stop the mother of the man who burned will-o'-the-wisp in a fit of rage to avenge her daughter?
Ian now only regrets telling Rowena Ravenclaw that Voldemort was a scumbag who cheated on Helena when they first met.
"A rotten remnant soul has no use whatsoever; even within the realm of alchemy, it would become a festering sore." Rowena Ravenclaw was clearly unaware of Ian's extraordinary abilities; she simply watched Voldemort's remnant soul burn to ashes before turning to Ian with a smile.
"This is your precious little one."
Rowena Ravenclaw held up what she was holding in her hand.
"You were brought here not because of that laughable Dark Lord of your human realm—he doesn't have that power—but because of this thing you brought with you, which brought you and my child to this place—"
In her hands.
The resurrection stone ring shimmered with a deep luster.
"The place where it was truly forged."