"Automatic release?" Cedric looked at his hand, which shimmered faintly like a diamond in the sunlight streaming through the window.
He could feel how strong it was; it could easily crush even the skull of Troll.
But compared to himself in heavy armor, he only felt weak and his sense of crisis was constantly increasing.
Is that posture what liberation is?
The heavy armor on his body did not feel cumbersome to him; on the contrary, it felt as natural as his skin. Although he was completely covered, he felt a sense of shame as if he were naked.
The chilling sensation that enveloped his entire body, the intense destructive urge, and the instinct to devour and ravage everything were what he found most captivating.
Was that really my liberation?
In that state, he was more like a Beast.
"Of course, there's often a big difference between your self-perception and your true self," Draco shrugged.
Cedric hesitated, only he himself knew that the Magic Immortal Artifact was Tom Riddle, the young Voldemort, and not exactly a silhouette of himself, or rather, not entirely.
Draco mistakenly believed that Cedric was somewhat resistant because his ability to unleash power was relatively weak.
"The abilities born from Magic Immortal Artifact are the ones that best align with our personalities, habits, and instincts."
"No spell learned later can compare to it."
"Even if the initial state is weak, it is just a seed. As long as we persevere and keep investing resources, it will eventually bloom into a flower that satisfies us."
Cedric forced a smile.
Draco's words of comfort should have moved him, but as he looked at that face, a voice kept echoing in his mind—a voice that sent chills down his spine, made him stop breathing, and was cold and vicious.
"Stop pretending to be a good person... You mere son of Death Eater... Let me tear you apart... rip you apart... kill you..."
("His eyes!" Ron exclaimed, "There seemed to be a glint of red in them.")
(Dumbledore rubbed his temples. "Something seems to have happened with Cedric that we don't understand at all.")
(Voldemort, having run into the home of an unfortunate dark wizard and carried out his double-cross, cackled, "The 'snake' has awakened.")
(Ginny frowned. "Harry and his friends' chances of winning are getting smaller and smaller.")
(Snape encouraged, "It's still early!")
(He still pinned his hopes on the upcoming White Magic classes, expecting Harry to shine in them.)
Harry, whom Snape was looking forward to, was not idle either.
He sat in the lounge, next to Krum and Phoebe.
"Krum, what did you hear?"
Krum closed his eyes, focusing his attention on his other self eating in the Great Hall, and on the Golden Snitch hovering above Cedric and the others.
"I heard that Edward Cullen's Magic Immortal Artifact has automatically activated. And I've never seen such evil eyes before. Edward Cullen must be that Dark Magic Fairy, I'm sure of it!"
Phoebe's face turned serious. "So, we've fallen behind again?"
Harry frowned. "Magic Immortal Artifact? Those are creations of true gods. I can't even imagine the power they would have after awakening."
"Phoebe, did you find out how to use the Dark Magic Fairy's methods—"
Krum was interrupted by Phoebe halfway through his sentence, "I couldn't find it. The access level for us Magic Fairy Apprentice is still too low. We can't even watch some of the videos on the forum. All I know is that the tutorials on Magic Immortal Artifact are taught in Dark Magic class."
"Is that so?" Harry stood up. "Let's hurry to the Dark Magic classroom. We must get a good spot this time."
Ten minutes later, in front of the room at the end of the corridor on the 4th floor.
("Harry must have been terrified," Ron remarked. "We were so young back then, just 11-year-old kids. Hermione almost cried when she saw it.")
(Hermione was struggling to cut the sausage in her hand, not even looking up, "As if you don't have one.")
"Is this the classroom?" Harry looked at the navigation in his encyclopedia, somewhat uncertain.
The location here is clearly the same as the room where he hid the Trapdoor with the Three-Headed Dog when he was in first grade.
The hand gripping the brass handle seemed to freeze.
He always had a feeling that what would appear was a Three-Headed Dog that would take up the entire room and reach the ceiling, and he could vaguely smell its saliva.
Phoebe and Krum behind them did not urge them on.
Another Krum is heading their way, and they stand there waiting.
Harry opened the door anyway.
A spacious room appeared before him.
Inside, flickering torches burned, a row of wooden bookshelves lined the wall, and while there were no chairs on the floor, there were large satin cushions.
On the shelf at the other end of the room were various instruments of unknown purpose, as well as a large mirror against the wall.
"Oh, someone's here?"
A gentle male voice suddenly rang out.
"Professor?" Harry asked tentatively.
"You could say that. I'll be responsible for teaching you how to use Magic Immortal Artifact and Dark Magic."
As soon as he finished speaking, ripples appeared on the mirror, and a man dressed in a black robe stepped out from it.
(Voldemort looked at the man with a strange expression, "I miss him. I envy him, and I feel disgusted.")
(It's hard for him not to feel disgusted looking at that face that looks just like his Muggle father.)
(Dumbledore's expression softened for a moment, "If I were here...")
(Even now, he still attributes part of Voldemort's descent into evil to himself.)
(Grindelwald, having changed out of his prison uniform, straightened his makeup while sizing up the man. "Tsk, Doxy.")
"Did I scare you?"
He smiled at Harry and the two men who followed Harry in.
Judging by his appearance alone, he was just a very handsome young man with dark hair.
It's hard to imagine that beneath that handsome and youthful appearance lies a man in his sixties, a rare and Great Magic Immortal, Spell-Speaking Magic Fairy.
Harry and his two companions unconsciously slowed their breathing.
"No."
"We just wanted to get here as soon as possible."
"Learn something useful."
"Oh, learn something useful?" Riddle was intrigued by Phoebe's words and looked her up and down for a while.
"You must be that humanoid fairy child. You possess impressive magic, a profound intellectual aura, and love. No wonder you're a natural-born White Magic Fairy in human form?"
Upon hearing the word "the taste of thought," Phoebe instantly tensed up. Memories of being entangled by the tentacles of thought within her body at the Mysterious Office were instantly rekindled, along with Dumbledore's domineering, fiery love that forcibly healed her body, burying thoughts containing countless knowledge into her wounds and flesh.
"You want to become powerful as quickly as possible? That's rare, such a sense of urgency."
Riddle's eyes seemed to possess a penetrating magic, seeing through Phoebe's deepest desires with crystal clarity.
He smiled again.
"If it were you, you would have three choices."
"First, we will use the method of the Dark Magic Fairy to maliciously refine the Magic Immortal Artifact to awaken the Magic Immortal Artifact."
"Second, apply to Flitwick for a pact with the pillar. There are many valuable things in your magic."
"Third, become a fanatic; the power of love will help you go far."
Phoebe gritted her teeth, "I choose the first one."
"A wise choice." Riddle chuckled. "The most important thing for a fairy is herself."
"A fanatic who completely abandons himself can never be a pillar."
"Making a contract with a pillar too early will result in the pillar reading too much of your information. The most important thing on the ship of ascension to the Cloud Realm is the proportion of your own information."
"That's why Blue Magic Fairy is the hardest path to become a pillar."
"However, this is not something you need to worry about. Most of the magical fairies, even if given countless hours, will not be able to become pillars of society."
"Then when will you—" Phoebe somewhat anxiously.
"So this is the lesson for today, child." Riddle blinked. "Remember what I said at the beginning? I'll be responsible for teaching you how to use Magic Immortal Artifact and Dark Magic."
"Let me sit down and rest for a bit, then wait—"
As he spoke, the undiminished insight in his eyes swept across Harry's forehead.
His body stiffened.
In Harry's eyes, it was this 'young' professor who was about to lazily sit down cross-legged when his expression suddenly changed drastically and he appeared in front of him.
His dark brown pupils were instantly tinged with silver.
His gaze fell upon the location of the scar that did not exist on his body.
The next second, Harry trembled all over, covered his forehead with his hand, and collapsed to the ground as if he had been electrocuted.
("Harry!" Hermione, Ginny, Ron, Mrs. Weasley, and others all wanted to jump into the frame.)
("Potter!" "Potter!" These were Snape and Malfoy, unwilling to admit their true feelings.)
("Harry." Dumbledore's expression was calm; he seemed to have guessed something.)
Just as Phoebe and Krum were about to make their move, Riddle, who had his back to them, gave a slight twitch, and the two of them were completely incapacitated.
It stopped in place like a bee encased in amber.
Harry felt as if he were back in that carriage blocked by Dementor; the green light, his mother's weeping, and Voldemort's shrill laughter flashed through his mind like a slideshow.
Click.
It was as if something had melted.
A small, palm-sized stag with silver fur emerged from his body. The Winky silver hooves faded, replaced by black flames, and he ran as if treading on black clouds.
"Done." The silvery-white light in Riddle's eyes faded, and he wiped away non-existent cold sweat.
"What did you do to me?" Harry looked at the fawn with heartache over its 'dirty' hooves, while staring fiercely at Riddle with its deer eyes as if it wanted to kill him with its gaze.
"Horcrux," Riddle said apologetically, "You seem to be another Horcrux I created."
"It seems that before he was sealed away, he created another Horcrux, escaped to the world of ordinary people, and created you."
"I'm Horcrux?" Harry asked incredulously.
He had only heard Fred and George of this world mention this term; it was a kind of immortality magic with extremely severe side effects. At first, he thought this magic only existed in this world.
A thought flashed through his mind—could it be that Voldemort in his world also created Horcrux, and thus became immortal through Horcrux?
"Am I the reason Voldemort is immortal?"
(The entire Wizarding World was astonished; the Chosen One was actually the key to Voldemort's survival.)
(Almost everyone had the same terrifying idea—only by killing the Chosen One could Voldemort truly be killed!)
(Voldemort was furious. "It must be Dumbledore! No wonder he deliberately sent this brat in front of me in the first year! He wanted me to kill him and destroy one of my precious Horcrux!")
(Snape rejected the idea. During his years teaching at Hogwarts, although he didn't say it, he had come to regard Dumbledore as a father figure, one of the only two sources of light in his deep and dark soul. He looked at Riddle in the picture almost pleadingly, hoping that he would deny Harry's guess.)
Riddle blushed slightly. "Could you please not use that name? That magical name is utterly disgraceful."
"I never imagined I had such a crazy side."
"But you don't need to worry about your connection with Voldemort anymore. I've already digested this soul for you."
(Snape's expression froze, then turned to madness and hatred. "Albus Dumbledore! I've been your spy, slew lies for you, and risked my life for you. All supposedly to ensure the safety of Lily Potter's son. And now you tell me you've raised him like a pig to be slaughtered—")
(Everyone in the Great Hall was stunned by Snape's words.)
(However, since Lily had previously descended Heroic Spirits, they already knew some of the love and hatred involved, so they weren't too surprised.)
(Most attention was focused on Dumbledore.)
(Does this greatest White Wizard, the current Minister for British Ministry of Magic, actually know this secret, or is it true, as Snape said, that the so-called the Chosen One Harry is just a pig waiting to be slaughtered?)
(Dumbledore looked at his fingers. "I did intend for Voldemort to kill Harry with his own hands, but I also found a way to make it possible for Harry to survive.")
("Maybe! Maybe!" Snape roared as he walked out of the Great Hall, but he didn't attack. "Dumbledore, I'm no longer your spy! Don't even think about ordering me around anymore.")
(Professor McGonagall pursed her lips. "Albus, why didn't you tell Harry? The boy should know this himself.")
(Dumbledore's gaze remained fixed, his head bowed. "I will tell him, but it is far too early. He is too young, too impulsive, and should be enjoying his student life without worries, instead of living in constant fear until his death.")
(Ginny stood up. "Dumbledore! You underestimate my boyfriend!")
(Ron straightened his back and said, "Harry defeated Voldemort twice in his first and second years. He's a true Champion.")
(Hermione's lips moved, "Dumbledore, you—")
(Everyone has drifted a step Dumbledore; they can rationally understand it, but emotionally they cannot accept it.)
Harry had no idea what was happening in the Great Hall. He just touched his forehead in disgust. "Voldemort? He's been here the whole time? Couldn't we just destroy him?"
"I'm not disgusted by you, Professor. I just hate Voldemort."
Riddle blinked. "Don't worry, I hate him too. He's so stupid."