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Becoming Grindelwald's Descendant and The Next Dark Lord

In a post-war wizarding world, where the Alliance Party—an organization that once stood for unity between magical beings—has fallen into obscurity, a young wizard named Wentworth emerges with a determination to resurrect its ideals. Wentworth's efforts to revive the Alliance Party are met with skepticism and resistance as old prejudices and grudges run deep within the wizarding community. However, his unwavering determination and ability to inspire hope gradually draw a diverse group of supporters to his cause. With Cedric by his side, Wentworth navigates through political intrigue, magical battles, and personal sacrifices. Ultimately, Wentworth’s journey is a testament to the enduring power of hope, resilience, and the belief that a united front can overcome even the darkest of odds. The Alliance Party’s revival becomes a symbol of progress, reminding all magical beings that their shared future is worth fighting for. This is a translated work with over 480 chapters The chapter will be updated every day on 23:00 GMT+7 You can read future 40 chapters ahead at [p][a][t][r][e][o][n].com/Scaramousse !

Scaramousse · Tranh châm biếm
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374 Chs

Chapter 314 "Fiendfrye"

Then, they watched in horror as Ron grabbed his hair with both hands, tearing at it in anguish.

"Ah! Hermione... Hermione is my friend... but... who is she? How can I not remember?" Ron cried out in torment.

The moment when Ron was fighting for control over his own body, but the soul residing inside his heart was doing everything he could to stop him. No one could see Ron for more than a second without them feeling sorry.

Harry couldn't bear to see his friend in such distress. "Ron! It's me, Harry! Harry Potter!" he exclaimed desperately, hoping to break through to Ron.

Ron paused, his frantic movements coming to a halt as he raised his head to look at Harry, "Harry?" Ron asked with a confused look.

Recognition flickered in his eyes, and a glimmer of surprise crossed his face. "Harry! You're here, Harry! Come on! I'll show you my pet! You never know what my pet is! I tell you, it's a basilisk! It's a huge basilisk! Haha! Are you scared of me?" Ron exclaimed with manic excitement.

Harry's heart broke at the sight of his friend's delusions, "Ron... This is not you..."

"Stop right there! Don't follow him!" Cedric forcefully pulled Harry.

If it weren't for Cedric holding him back, Harry would have rushed to Ron's side.

Instead, he sank to the ground, tears streaming down his face as he pleaded with Ron, "Ron, snap out of it! That's not your pet! The Basilisk almost killed Hermione, don't you remember?!"

Ron's excitement evaporated, replaced by a somber demeanor. "It was just an accident. The Basilisk was hungry, so it attacked Hermione! Give me that girl, and after I feed the Basilisk, it won't harm anyone! It's my pet!" he declared gloomily, his words chilling Harry to the bone.

"Tom Riddle has almost taken full control of Ron's soul; the moment he slip and lets Tom a bit more of a space inside his heart, then he would be gone..." Hearing Wentworth's grim assessment of Ron's condition, Harry's heart sank with a sense of urgency and worry.

Turning his gaze back to Ron, he called out desperately, "Ron, you need to listen to me! Come with me, we'll find Dumbledore! He'll help you, I promise!"

But Ron remained unfazed by Harry's plea, his eyes gleaming with a disturbing fervor as he continued to assert his ownership of the Basilisk, "What are you talking about, Harry? Why would I need help? I am doing fine! Come here and let me show you a trick or two this Basilisk could do."

Cedric, who had been observing quietly, stepped forward and placed a reassuring hand on Harry's shoulder.

"We need to get Ron out of here, Harry. He's not himself," Cedric said softly, his voice tinged with concern.

Harry nodded, his resolve hardening as he turned to Wentworth. "We have to do something, Wentworth. We can't just leave him like this," he insisted, his voice trembling with emotion.

Wentworth nodded in agreement, his expression grave. "I'll try to find a way to reverse the effects of the Horcrux on Ron. But for now, our priority is to get him to safety," he replied solemnly.

With a determined nod, Harry, Cedric, and Wentworth approached Ron cautiously, ready to intervene and lead him away from the Chamber of Secrets before it was too late.

Hearing Harry's desperate plea, Ron remained indifferent, his demeanor unsettlingly composed. "I'm sober! Why would I go to Dumbledore? I'm perfectly fine," he retorted dismissively, his wand already in hand.

"Harry, get away from him! He'll harm you!" Green yelled.

Sensing the tension escalating, Cedric and Green instinctively aimed their wands at Ron, ready to intervene if necessary.

But Harry, standing between them, urged restraint. "Don't do it! He won't harm me," he insisted firmly, refusing to yield.

Cedric reached out to pull Harry away, his concern evident in his voice. "Harry, please, be careful! Move aside!" But Harry stood his ground, convinced of Ron's restraint.

To everyone's surprise, Ron approached the stone statue, wand in hand, and uttered words in the parseltongue. As he did, a hidden door beneath the statue opened, revealing the looming presence of the Basilisk.

Reacting swiftly, Wentworth, Cedric, and Green cast spells simultaneously, unleashing bright flashes of light to deter the advancing Basilisk, "Lumos!"

Their coordinated effort momentarily halted the creature's advance, buying them precious time to strategize.

The Basilisk, caught off guard by the sudden onslaught of blinding light, recoiled in pain as the explosive spells detonated around it, engulfing the secret chamber in a radiant glow akin to broad daylight.

Accustomed to the perpetual gloom of its subterranean abode, the Basilisk struggled to adjust to the intense brightness, its eyes rendered useless in the dazzling illumination.

Agitated by the assault, the serpent thrashed violently, its massive form writhing in disorientation.

Witnessing the creature's distress, Ron erupted in fury. "How dare you hurt my pet?!" he bellowed indignantly, his anger palpable.

Harry, his gaze alternating between Ron's enraged form and the frenzied Basilisk, felt a sudden weight in his hand. Glancing down, he discovered a sword hilt nestled within the Sorting Hat that Wentworth had entrusted to him.

A surge of realization coursed through Harry as he grasped the significance of the weapon's presence.

Without pause to ponder Wentworth's foreknowledge, Harry swiftly withdrew the longsword from the hat's depths, brandishing it defiantly before the thrashing Basilisk.

"It's because of you that Ron's like this! I'll save Ron from your control!" Harry roared, his voice reverberating with righteous fury.

With Gryffindor's sword gripped tightly in his hand, Harry charged fearlessly toward the Basilisk, his determination unyielding.

Cedric, initially inclined to intervene, found his hand stayed by Wentworth's meaningful intervention. "Let him go. It's Harry's destiny, and Tom Riddle's as well," Wentworth advised with a solemnity that brooked no argument.

As Harry closed in on the thrashing Basilisk, Ron's voice rang out in a furious command. "Stop! You're not allowed to harm my pet again!" Ron's wand rose threateningly, aimed squarely at Harry.

But before Ron could unleash any hex, Wentworth interjected with a dire warning. "I suggest you cease, whether you're Ron or Tom Riddle. If you move, I'll destroy this," he declared, brandishing the golden crown of Ravenclaw.

Ron's scoff was swift. "You? You can't destroy it!" he retorted derisively.

With a disdainful smirk, Wentworth directed his wand at the ground, inscribing arcane symbols as he uttered a spell in a strange, ancient tongue. "Fiendfyre!" he pronounced with authority, invoking a potent magic.

Ron, momentarily puzzled by Wentworth's actions and incantation, furrowed his brow as he attempted to decipher the cryptic language. "Ancient magic pattern? Cataclysmic pyro magic? Fiendfyre?" he murmured, his curiosity piqued despite his skepticism.

In the wake of Wentworth's invocation, a faint blue flame materialized seemingly out of nowhere, igniting the empty, sodden ground. Despite the absence of fuel, the flame blazed with an ethereal intensity.

Wentworth, undeterred by Ron's skepticism, positioned Ravenclaw's crown directly above the mystical blaze. Fixing Ron with a steely gaze, he issued a challenge. "What did you just say? I can't destroy it? I'll give you a chance to reconsider!"

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