Voldemort Addicted to Cross-Dressing

After the new Dementor appeared, the air in the Room of Requirement seemed to drop several degrees.

After all, they are a fresh force, and having been cooped up for so long, it's normal for them to be energetic.

"Pansy, Seamus," Harry gestured for the two to come forward, "It's your turn!"

The two walked to the center of the arena, and then the Dementor let out a silent roar.

Suddenly, an overwhelming sense of despair spread like ripples.

Pansy tries to maintain Slytherin's pride, but she finds that Pure-blood honor is powerless in the face of true despair.

She tried to use the Patronus Charm, but her wand only emitted a few scattered strands of silver.

Seamus once again showcased his unique style.

Faced with the overwhelming coldness, he did not back down; instead, a fierce determination rose within him.

"You want to suck my pleasure? I'll fucking blow you up!"

He unleashed his full magical power, and his Patronus instantly transformed into an extremely unstable mass of silver energy, seemingly crackling with lightning within, before "Boom!"

Another muffled thud!

The energy ball exploded in front of the Dementor!

Although it didn't cause any real damage to the Dementor, the intense silver flash and magical shockwave disoriented Dementor, temporarily halting its advance.

Flashbangout, right?

This Seamus learned some of the foreigners' shady tools and discarded the traditional methods passed down from his ancestors (dry pulling).

Harry didn't think much of it; after all, a cat is a good cat as long as it catches mice, regardless of whether it's black or white.

Isn't it just an explosive version of Patronus Charm?

You know what, it would actually be pretty good to create a Patronus of Explosive Barrel.

The Dementor was disoriented by Seamus's flashbang-like Patronus, and its previously solidified dark aura dissipated somewhat. It swung its hood, as if trying to get rid of the unsettling silver flash and magical turbulence.

Pansy seized this fleeting opportunity.

The chaos that Seamus had just created was like a crack that had been carved into the thick wall of her despair.

She stopped thinking about the pride of Pure-blood and subconsciously grasped an unexpected image deep within her heart—when she was very young, she was secretly teasing a Winky fairy with Draco in the garden of the Malfoy Manor.

Draco wasn't as arrogant back then, nor as dismissive of her, nor did he have such a vivid image of a red-haired Gryffindor girl on his mind. He was just a boy with a beautiful smile.

"Epecto Patronum (Patronus Charm)!"

She screamed, and the tip of her wand was no longer a tangled silver thread, but a small, thin, yet clearly defined silver shield!

The shield wasn't large, but it hovered steadily in front of her and Seamus, radiating a resolute light that kept the chill that the Dementor were spreading again at bay.

Seeing this, Seamus perked up. "Haha! It worked! Watch this!"

He gathered his magic again, this time trying to control the timing of the explosion. The unstable silver energy did not explode immediately, but instead, like a ball of lightning, spun around the Dementor, making crackling sounds and greatly interfering with its movements.

"Seamus! Control the direction! Force it back!"

Harry offered guidance from the sidelines, his tone tinged with surprise and encouragement.

He realized he may have underestimated the potential of Seamus's unconventional tactics.

Indeed, this explosive Patronus Charm is quite something.

"Parkinson, push forward! Compress its space!" Seamus shouted excitedly.

Pansy gritted her teeth, struggling to maintain the small silver shield as she slowly advanced.

Seamus, meanwhile, controlled his ball-shaped, lightning-like Patronus, moving back and forth around the Dementor.

For a moment, the scene became somewhat comical yet effective.

An elegant silver shield, paired with a silver bomb that could explode at any moment, actually forced the ferocious Dementor to retreat step by step, making it seem somewhat helpless.

Finally, the Dementor let out a silent, unwilling howl and huddled in a corner not far away, no longer moving.

This is fucking bullying!

How could anyone do such a thing? You could just summon a normal Patronus Charm, why create something so dangerous?!

Especially this shining Patronus, whose Patronus is like this!

"Very good, a very good Patronus Charm!" Harry nodded approvingly. "Charms should be like this—full of endless possibilities. Well done, Seamus!"

Seamus grinned, revealing a set of white teeth.

Next up was Hannah's group. They stumbled a bit, but ultimately managed to hold off the Dementor ' attack.

"Alright, guys," Harry said, clapping his hands. "Good job, at least I think so—but that's not enough. I hope you guys practice more when you get back, because—who knows when you'll be facing a dozen or so Dementor at once, and your current level is far from sufficient."

"So you're planning to give us a surprise this time, right?" Ron asked indignantly.

"If you want," Harry said with a grin.

Ron immediately shut his mouth. He had already been attacked by the spider once, and he didn't want to be attacked by the Dementor again.

"Next time," Harry said again, "You won't be facing one Dementor each, but one each. To avoid embarrassing yourselves in front of others, I still hope you can practice properly, lest a video of you being kissed by Dementor be circulated all over the internet."

They immediately fell silent.

"Alright, dismissed." Harry announced, "Go back and practice hard. I don't want to see you all looking pathetic when you face Dementor alone next time."

Even after the group disbanded, everyone still felt a sense of loss.

They ate the chocolates Harry had prepared and returned to their respective Common Room as a group.

But as Harry approached the door of the Common Room, he saw Professor McGonagall standing there.

"Professor," Harry greeted.

Professor McGonagall smiled gently and then said to him, "Dumbledore wants to see you in the Headmaster's Office. He needs to see you about something."

"Okay," Harry nodded.

He made his way to the Headmaster's Office, passing the Waterspout Gargoyle, and then pushed open the door to the Headmaster's Office.

In fact, he no longer needed the password, because the Waterspout Gargoyle was so well-behaved that Harry felt a little sorry for it.

In the Headmaster's Office, Dumbledore was sitting behind his desk enjoying sweets. When he saw Harry approaching, he smiled and handed Harry a candy with a filling.

Harry took the candy, unwrapped it, and popped it into his mouth.

"What's wrong?" he asked. "Is there something urgent? You could have sent me a message—"

"I couldn't get through to you on the phone, I don't know why," Dumbledore waved his hand and said, "So I asked Minerva to wait for you outside your Common Room, and it seems she successfully waited for you."

He paused, then said, "I called you here today because of Voldemort." "What's wrong?" Harry asked nervously.

Dumbledore sighed.

"The American Ministry of Magic —no longer exists," he said.

Harry's eyes widened.

"No, what's going on?" he asked. "Isn't the American Ministry of Magic quite enthusiastic? I remember they were obsessed with opposing us, thinking Voldemort wasn't a big threat—"

Dumbledore didn't speak, but instead took a small bottle from his pocket.

"This is the memory of a member of the American Ministry of Magic. Let's take a look at what happened together."

Having said that, he stood up and poured his memories into the Pensieve.

As silver threads spread through the liquid in the Pensieve, Harry and Dumbledore stepped into Pensieve together.

Harry felt as if his consciousness had been thrown into a cold, shaking vortex filled with screams. A moment later, he felt himself land on the ground, with Dumbledore beside him and the magnificent hall of the American Ministry of Magic before him.

Before Harry could even see what was happening, the bronze gate in the distance, carved with a Patronus sculpture, was blasted away by an irresistible force, crashing into the center of the hall and crushing the magical fountain below.

Amidst the smoke and dust, two figures stepped in side by side.

The image on the left is not Voldemort's snake-faced appearance, nor his young, handsome face, but rather the image he wore as Miss Merope during Harry's first year.

But the malice burning in those red eyes was exactly the same as that of Voldemort with the snake face.

He held his wand, walking with an air of composure, as if surveying his own territory. The icy magic emanating from him slightly distorted the images in his memory.

What's even more surprising is that Voldemort is no longer a spirit, but has a physical form.

He's resurrected?

With this question in mind, Harry asked it.

"It should be." Dumbledore nodded, his expression grave.

On the right is Runcorn.

This Goblin, who came from a hundred years ago and was driven by hatred, stood out from her surroundings with her enormous body and rock-like skin.

He gripped a Goblin Battle Axe in his hand, inlaid with a huge purple crystal that was radiating an Grim aura.

Those inhuman eyes were filled with pure hatred for wizarding architecture and order.

"It's very serious," Dumbledore said softly. "Do you see? These two have indeed come together—and are allies, an alliance to seek revenge against all wizards—"

The battle erupted the moment the words were spoken.

The Auror of the American Ministry of Magic reacted swiftly, unleashing a barrage of spells upon the invaders.

Voldemort didn't even bother to chant a spell; he casually waved his wand, and the deadly green light of the Killing Curse, like a venomous snake ready to devour its prey, precisely pierced through the Shield Charm, reaping the lives here.

He would occasionally summon Basilisk phantoms made of magical flames, which would rampage through the crowd, tearing the Auror ' formation to shreds.

"Looks like he hasn't forgotten Alfonso after all," Harry muttered to himself.

"What did you say?" Dumbledore didn't hear Harry's words.

"It's nothing," Harry said with a shrug.

On the other side, Runcorn displayed a completely different fighting style, letting out an earth-shaking roar as he slammed his Battle Axe heavily onto the smooth marble floor.

"Boom--!"

The entire hall trembled violently, the ground undulated like waves, and huge stone spikes suddenly appeared out of nowhere, hurling away any Auror who tried to approach, along with their spells, and then piercing them like skewers of meat.

He swung his Battle Axe, unleashing not light, but shockwaves that distorted space, easily tearing the Auror ' carefully constructed magical barriers to shreds like paper.

He could even manipulate the hall's metal decorations; the ornate bronze statues and railings were melted by Runcorn's twisted magic and reshaped into a sharp metallic storm that swept in all directions.

Although there were only two of them, the American Ministry of Magic was completely unable to stop their slaughter.

"Avada Kedavra!"

Voldemort was actually very skilled with the Silencing Charm, but there was one Charms he was unwilling to use the Silencing Charm for: Avada Kedavra.

He relished seeing the despair of those he slaughtered as they heard "Avada Kedavra" before their deaths.

After defeating the main resistance, the two ignored the remaining resistance and rushed straight into an archive deep within the hall, protected by heavy magic and exuding an ancient aura.

"They're not just destroying things aimlessly," Dumbledore analyzed. "You see, they're looking for something, something that can only be found in the American Ministry of Magic, something related to Ancient Magic, or perhaps even darker secrets."

The images of memory become extremely unstable here, filled with terror and flickering magical turbulence.

All that could be seen was Voldemort violently breaking through the ancient seals with his wand, while Runcorn shone the purple crystal on his Battle Axe at those seals. The light from the crystal seemed to neutralize or even absorb certain ancient energies within the protective magic.

Finally, amidst a blinding flash and a tremendous explosion, the innermost barrier of the archives, personally erected by the Founders the American Ministry of Magic, was blasted open.

The final scene of the memory is Voldemort and Runcorn emerging from the ruins of the destroyed archives.

Voldemort now held a box emitting Grim black light, while Runcorn's armor and Battle Axe shone even brighter and more eerily.

The surviving wizards huddled in a corner in terror, none daring to approach.

Voldemort coldly surveyed the ruins and survivors with his red eyes, a satisfied smile curving his lips. Combined with his handsome face, he looked as alluring as could be.

"He's become a bit addicted to effeminate roles," Harry commented. "I think she might also have a bit of a twisted side deep down."

"Is that so?" Dumbledore said noncommittally, though he did think Harry's words did make some sense.

but----

Are people like Voldemort really just addicted to cross-dressing?

Or perhaps, deep down, he harbors some far more sinister plan.