CH 89: Explosion

"Protego——"

Voldemort raised his hand to block it, but unexpectedly, a sharp knife cut through his eyes, plunging his vision into darkness amidst the blood-red.

Mage's Hand - Visual Deprivation·Physics

Seeing the bloody marks on Voldemort's eyes caused by the invisible wizard's hand, Harry dropped the sword in his hand without hesitation.

However, the belt appeared again and violently strangled his throat.

Above Voldemort's scratched eyes, two extra thin lines appeared, then suddenly a pair of brand new green eyes filled with malice opened.

"You really took my breath away! But that's it for now!!"

Harry's wrist was twisted by the band, as if his muscles and bones were breaking, and the second sword fell to the ground.

Thinking quickly, he let go of his hand and threw away the wand. He couldn't afford to have his hand broken again.

He panted, his hot breath turning into white mist in the air.

Or...is it too far off?

His eyes scanned the surroundings, searching for opportunities.

Then, he noticed the scar on the back of Voldemort's right hand, seeming to be burning.

When did the flames start? !

Impossible…

The mark of that scar... the palm...

Voldemort's belt hoisted Harry in front of the huge mirror.

Harry didn't know the relationship between this mirror and the Sorcerer's Stone. Obviously, Voldemort wouldn't give him the same answer as before.

His head was forcibly turned, and he stared into the mirror.

The self in the mirror was flushed and angry.

Everything seemed like an ordinary mirror.

But the next moment, the man in the mirror smiled strangely. He reached into his pocket, took out a bright red stone, then blinked and put the stone back.

Suddenly, Harry's pocket felt heavier, and the Sorcerer's Stone fell into his corresponding pocket!

"This…"

"Hand it over. I've sensed the emotional fluctuations in your mind, and you already know where the Sorcerer's Stone is," Voldemort's cold voice echoed in Harry's ears.

"Won't you look inside my head yourself?" Harry scoffed.

It seems Voldemort is no longer capable of such a thing...

"Untie my hand, and I'll give it to you," Harry said.

The band released his left hand.

"The other hand, this one has been broken by you and can't do anything at all," Harry said.

The band bound his left hand again and then released his right hand.

Harry reached into his pocket, took out a blood-red stone, and handed it over.

When Voldemort saw this, his eyes suddenly lit up, and he raised his hand to receive it.

However, at the next moment, a huge dragon head appeared on Harry's hand and bit into Voldemort's hand.

Voldemort attempted to turn into black mist again, but Harry stopped him with his hand, and the invisible mage's hand struck Quirrell hard on the face, which was Voldemort's back.

He staggered towards Harry uncontrollably, but his body was about to turn into black mist! !

At this moment, Harry's index finger and thumb intertwined.

Snap——

"Petrificus totalus!!"

"Casting a spell without a wand? How is it possible!!"

Voldemort's body turned into black mist and froze for an instant. At this moment, Harry's hand suddenly grabbed his face.

There was a sizzling sound of a red-hot iron on flesh, and burning smoke and various blisters exploded on Voldemort's face.

Voldemort's wail and Quirrell's scream suddenly echoed throughout the empty classroom.

The little dragon Norbert completely released the seal, biting Voldemort's hand that was reaching out to take the Sorcerer's Stone, not allowing him to break free.

Sure enough, the burns on Voldemort's right hand originated from the injury when she grabbed his hand for the first time and turned back to draw the sword! !

The palm that touched his face this time was even more powerful, penetrating directly into his soul.

At the same time, the stinging pain on his forehead became even worse, almost making him lose his mind. Various images kept flashing back in his mind.

The flash of green light, the red-haired woman standing in front of him, her hair fluttering, then landing.

That ferocious smile, that wanton and loud laughter...

Harry's other hand had already broken free, and he threw himself directly onto Quirrell's body. He disregarded the bone-piercing pain and pressed his severed hand against Voldemort's face.

Various sensations continued to assault his mind. Gradually, his consciousness began to blur, and Voldemort's wails in his ears faded.

In a haze, he saw Voldemort's face beginning to detach from the back of Quirrell's head.

"No!!"

He roared, but when he came to, he only saw a shadow dragging the black mist, attempting to escape.

Quirrell, pressing down with his palm, was already unconscious.

Beside him, an old man in gray robes appeared. He extended a hand and helped Harry up.

"Breathtaking," he admired, his voice carrying a soothing magic that swiftly revived Harry's fragile spirit.

"Sir... Voldemort!!"

"Don't worry," Dumbledore reassured, his hand automatically retrieving the fallen magic stone.

Harry raised his hand slightly, and Norbert swiftly shrank, returning to a ring.

Then, he raised his hand again, and the ring on his index finger glimmered slightly.

"The magic wand is flying - the sword is flying -" His voice was weak, but the spell was skillful.

Soon, he retrieved everything.

Dumbledore watched, his eyes shining. Suddenly, his gaze shifted.

"Felix!"

"What's wrong?!" Harry tensed.

Dumbledore placed a hand on Harry's shoulder, and a bright red shadow appeared outside the door.

The next moment, they vanished from the scene.

In an instant, they materialized in the castle office. Harry looked bewildered, but observed Dumbledore heading to the window with a solemn expression.

Harry rushed over and noticed a black shadow resembling sesame seeds.

"It's Voldemort, sir!" Harry exclaimed.

But Dumbledore remained silent.

Confusion clouded Harry's mind. Suddenly, the clouds and mist in the sky swirled, forming a giant hand that extended downward, while mist rose from the ground, shaping into claws!

In mid-air, a figure emerged.

Felix gestured with his hands, gradually closing them, enveloping the black shadow.

"Felix Perrreeegrrrinnnneee!!" Voldemort's soul screamed. "How do you possess such power? Are you aiding Dumbledore willingly?!"

"Aiding?!" A smile graced Felix's lips, his hair billowing as he drew nearer to Riddle's soul.

"I merely have some unfinished business with you!"

"We have no quarrel!" Riddle protested. "With your power, we can forge a new world! We are fundamentally different from them, you understand! ! "

Riddle struggled, but the invisible hand restrained him. He was too feeble.

"We are all merely human." Felix smiled. "Riddle, you are a tad extreme!"

"Release me! Felix Peregrine, do not compel me!!" Riddle bellowed.

Felix remained silent, tightening his grip as the world around them began to fade. Riddle was already under his control.

"Then resist it!" Riddle ceased his pleas, his soul stirring.

In the next instant, a violent explosion erupted.

Dumbledore stood at the window, lightning-fast. With a flick of the Elder Wand, a silver gleam enveloped the castle, shielding it from the violent shockwave.

The Forbidden Forest trembled, tiles flew from Hagrid's hut, and windows shattered! !

After the tumult subsided, a skull remained, its golden runes flashing rapidly among the bones before flesh and blood regenerated.

Felix coughed up blood, feeling drained.

Touching his head, he confirmed it remained feline.

Next, he teleported to Dumbledore's office.

Dumbledore regarded Felix's form, still seeing the skeletal figure.

"The human body is malleable..." he marveled.

He continued to marvel at the twisted beauty unique to magic.

"Self-destructed," Felix disclosed, lying back in the chair.

"How dare you detonate what's left of your soul like this..." Dumbledore pondered.

"It implies he possesses more than this soul." Felix revealed, "Horcrux!"

Dumbledore's eyes darkened. He knew Riddle survived the rebounding curse, but now he understood why.

Horcruxes weren't seeds, but anchors.

As long as a Horcrux existed, even if the body perished, it would return.

But it also posed a problem.

No one knew when Voldemort would return.

"At least I have time to locate his Horcrux," Felix stated lazily, spreading his hands.

Dumbledore nodded. "Indeed."

Their gazes shifted to Harry, who looked disheveled, his spirit diminished, and one hand broken.

Upon catching their gaze, Harry hastily reported: "Uncle Felix, sir, Quirrell remains in the basement. And there's the Ministry of Magic——"

"Well done, lad," Felix nodded.

Harry's words were cut off, his eyes moistening slightly.

This was the first time Uncle Felix had praised him so seriously and solemnly!

"Perhaps it's time you took a proper rest," Felix suggested. "Resting is the wisest choice now."

"Yes," Harry agreed, his voice trembling as he bid farewell to them. Exhaustion washed over him at the suggestion, and he couldn't recall how he left the headmaster's office or reached the infirmary amidst his classmates' discussions about the peculiar phenomena outside the window.

All he remembered was waking up three days later.