The Locket's True Destination
Apart from Ryan, no one knows what happened the moment Harry destroyed the Locket.
At that moment, as Harry's holy magic collided with the dark, chaotic magic of the Horcrux, a slender, fair hand grasped the Locket.
And then, in the next second, an identical Locket appeared in the Black House's Boiler Room.
Even from Harry's own perspective, he believed that he had already purified the Locket.
That was three hours earlier, in Nottingham Forest, at the Smith family's castle.
"You'll regret this!" A hissing voice came from Ryan's hand.
"I'm alive! The great Dark Lord is alive!" The eyes behind the two small glass windows of the opened Locket were filled with a sense of relief at surviving a catastrophe.
"Hey, are you Voldemort?" This voice jolted the Horcrux from its blissful near-death experience.
He turned his gaze toward the direction from which the voice came, and saw a short little witch. He breathed a sigh of relief.
However, her eyes are silver, which are quite pretty.
This little witch's magical power may not be at the level expected for her age, but it's only at the level of a student.
As for why he escaped, it may be related to areas that the Wizarding World has not yet explored.
After all, that kid named Harry Potter was also his Horcrux, and an unprecedented living Horcrux at that.
The collision of two opposing yet homogeneous magical forces may result in this sudden manifestation.
As for why he couldn't read the little girl's mind like he could read Weasley and Malfoy, it's very likely a lingering effect of the recent incident.
The fact that he had inadvertently called himself the Dark Lord and the memory of Voldemort that he heard from the little girl were as if they never existed, as if they had never happened.
"Hello, my name is Tom, and who are you?" the Horcrux said.
"My name is Kate, what are you?" the little girl said.
"I am not a thing—I mean I am a memory," the Horcrux said, suppressing its rage.
"Oh, so that's how you got here."
"This is my home," the little girl asked curiously.
"Because there are always people who don't want others to know the secret inside this box."
"I was banished during a fight by Apparition," the Horcrux said in a seductive voice.
He believed that, under the magic of his words, the little girl would inevitably reach out to him, eventually opening her heart and succumbing to his charm.
He easily stole the heart of Ravenclaw's daughter—a thousand-year-old ghost—let alone this little girl.
He only needs to absorb the little girl's life force to gain a physical form and eventually replace the main body to become the sole Dark Lord!
"What secret?" The little girl's big silver eyes were full of curiosity.
"Maybe, maybe I can absorb the lives of other people later. This kid is quite cute." The Horcrux thought to itself, feeling it had everything under control.
He felt everything was stable, and even considered switching to another person to smoke.
"Come here, hold this Locket, and I'll show you," the Horcrux said.
"Alright, Kate's having too much fun." A voice suddenly rang out.
It was a boundless, unfathomable magical energy.
And he was in the hands of that energy master.
Why?
Why did he forget these things?
Why did you forget that you introduced yourself when you first appeared, and that the little girl clearly asked you if you were the Dark Lord!
The Horcrux wanted to look back, or at the hand that held up the Locket, but its soul and even its entire body were resisting.
It was as if just one glance at him would cause him to crumble!
How could that be!
The Horcrux of the world's greatest wizard would be afraid of a wizard whose voice doesn't even sound loud!
Impossible!
Absolutely impossible!
"Is this the food that will make Jerry grow up?" the little girl asked innocently.
"Yes, Kate," said the owner of the energetic voice.
"Hello, I am Voldemort's Horcrux."
"I know most of the magical knowledge in this world."
"No matter who you are, or what kind of Care of Magical Creatures that Jerry is."
"I think none of those things are as important as my knowledge."
"If you spare me, I will tell you everything I know, without holding back any information," the Horcrux said obsequiously.
As Voldemort's Horcrux, he also inherited Voldemort's fear of death.
Faced with a wizard as powerful as Ryan, he dared not risk his life to demonstrate the dignity of the Dark Lord.
"No, I think Jerry is more important," the voice said coldly.
Then, a cat's meow suddenly rang out.
The Horcrux sensed the threat of death from this voice, as if it had encountered a natural enemy.
He looked toward the source of the meow, where a tiny kitten, no bigger than the palm of his hand, was coming from.
No, that's not a cat!
It's a flame that devours everything!
The spirit of Fiendfyre!
This is definitely not a life form that could be born naturally!
No, don't come any closer!
Don't come any closer!
The Horcrux wanted to beg for mercy from the owner of the flame.
But to his surprise, he found that he could no longer 'speak'!
The black cat drew closer and closer, and what finally came into his view was a tongue covered in barbs.
From Ryan and Kate's perspective, Jerry the kitten approached the Locket, licked it, and the eyes in the two glass windows inside the Locket disappeared.
Jerry the kitten had grown a little bigger. Jerry meowed contentedly and rubbed his little head against Ryan's leg.
"Ryan, is this Voldemort?"
"Why not let him stay and play with us?" Kate said disappointedly.
"What do you think Voldemort is?" Ryan picked up Jerry and lay him in mid-air, as if there was an invisible sofa behind him.
"The most dangerous and terrifying Dark Wizard of the nineteenth century, no, of all time," Kate said.
"What about Grindelwald?" Ryan asked, dissatisfied.
He felt that Voldemort's soul in the Locket died too easily.
"Is Grindelwald Dark Wizard?"
"He just failed, didn't he?" Kate said, looking puzzled.
"Well, Kate, you should be able to see how ignorant, audacious, and cowardly Kate was just by Horcrux Voldemort."
"Especially since he actually made more than one Horcrux."
"To tear your own soul to pieces," Ryan said sarcastically.
As a descendant of Bleach, Tom Riddle was born into royalty in the Afterlife.
Although the Afterlife is said to be equal, there are classes wherever there are people.
Tom, who has the surname Gaunt —the first generation of the Bleach Reaper—is afraid of death?
Moreover, Tom initially had the right to inherit the throne, although in Ryan's 'thinking,' Potter, the direct descendant of the second-generation Potter Bleach, had the best chance.
In Ryan's 'Thoughts', the Afterlife is determined by will and soul.
There is not much difference between wizards and Muggle. Wizards are simply able to linger between life and death and have the right to refuse death and remain in the world as ghosts.
Tom Riddle, however, cut off one of his own feet in the Afterlife —his soul—while he was still alive. How ignorant! He'll understand when he's dead.