"Huh?"
"Huh?"
Two startled murmurs rang out at the same time.
One came from the voice echoing in his mind, and the other came from Tris.
Tris was astonished that someone had invaded his mind while he slept. This was Hogwarts. Surely all kinds of magic were subject to considerable restrictions here.
How had someone still managed this? Or was it only a dream?
A lucid dream?
The intruder, meanwhile, was surprised because the little brat whose mind he had invaded was clearly awake.
That was far beyond his expectations.
The one invading Tris's consciousness was, of course, Voldemort-or rather, Voldemort's Soul Fragment.
This was the power he had spent a long time accumulating after attaching himself to Quirrell. Originally, he had intended to use this move on Harry, annihilating his soul and taking over his body.
With the power his soul fragment currently possessed, Voldemort would be unable to annihilate the soul of an adult wizard, or even an ordinary adult, for the foreseeable future.
And he absolutely refused to house his soul in an ordinary Muggle. That might cost him his ability to use magic, something he could never accept.
A child from the Wizarding World was the best choice.
And the most perfect choice among them was undoubtedly Harry Potter, the one who had reduced him to this state.
But whether deliberately or otherwise, that fellow Snape always seemed to be near Potter, leaving Voldemort no chance to get close and make his move.
Moreover, although Quirrell, whom he currently possessed, had already been brainwashed, he was not yet completely obedient. He was actually reluctant to hurt Potter and showed little enthusiasm for approaching him.
Powerless as he was, Voldemort could not push too hard against the puppet he had finally managed to possess. He could only endure it. After all, if Quirrell refused to cooperate, there was nothing he could do in his current state.
What delighted him unexpectedly, however, was that he seemed to have discovered another equally promising target.
The boy came from the pure-blood Weasley clan, had extraordinary talent, and had even been sorted into Slytherin. What pleased Voldemort most was that the boy's handsome looks surpassed even his own in his youth.
And Quirrell had no aversion to this little fellow.
Though it would not give him the same profound satisfaction as possessing Potter, taking over such an exceptionally gifted body would still be an excellent choice.
So he instructed Quirrell to find an opportunity to obtain a strand of Tris's hair and prepare to cast Possession Magic.
Everything went smoothly. Quirrell's grasp of magic was quite good; Voldemort only had to teach him twice before he mastered this ancient magic. Using some items from Voldemort's old collection, they managed to connect his soul to the young wizard's despite Hogwarts' dark magic suppression wards.
But what happened afterward differed somewhat from what he had expected.
Why was the boy still conscious?
Possession Magic should have completely suppressed the target's consciousness. He was only a little brat. There was no way he could resist Voldemort's soul.
By now, Tris had recovered from his surprise and realized who the intruder was. At Hogwarts, at a time like this, who else would pull something like this except that lingering soul fragment of Voldemort?
But why was he coming after me?
Shouldn't he be trying this stunt on Harry? Could it be because of Harry's blood protection charm? Hmm, that was possible!
But if he's coming after me, he only has himself to blame for his rotten luck.
"What a rude guest. Still, although you've barged in uninvited, I suppose I should entertain you as your host." Tris chuckled.
The pitch-black sea of consciousness suddenly changed.
Towering gray-brown walls rose from the ground, transforming into a vast, boundless maze almost in the blink of an eye.
Tris's figure appeared within the maze. Opposite him, a figure gradually formed behind that pair of scarlet eyes.
Bald, noseless, and horrifyingly pale. He wore a jet-black robe and stood barefoot.
Yep, Old Voldy's classic look.
Looking at Voldemort's Soul Fragment and the astonishment on his face, Tris spread his arms. "Welcome to my mental world. Now, here's a little game: find the exit!"
As soon as he finished speaking, he vanished into the maze.
Voldemort stood where he was, his scarlet eyes narrowing slightly. This was a situation he had never encountered before.
This was his first attempt at taking over a body through its soul, but he had invaded other people's minds many times. Yet he had never encountered anything like this.
He had already tried to withdraw from this mental world, and failed.
He had lost contact with the outside world-or, more precisely, with the body of the follower he had temporarily attached himself to.
Did he really have to navigate this maze?
What a joke!
He was the most powerful dark wizard in history!
Voldemort's anger flared. He was intimately familiar with the world of souls! Here, as long as his soul and conviction were strong enough, he could do anything he wanted.
Even if he was only a soul fragment now, his strength could not possibly be compared to that of a little brat.
Even if this strange maze the boy had created looked intimidating, it could not possibly trap him.
Voldemort raised his hand, and his long-lost yew wand appeared in the hand of his spiritual form.
Though he existed as a soul, the sensation of holding a wand felt so real that it stirred a wave of emotion in him-but only for an instant.
The next moment, he swung his wand, and a powerful destructive spell slammed into the wall before him. The wall collapsed with a crash, sending dust billowing everywhere.
Voldemort gave a smug smile.
The dust cleared, and Voldemort's smile froze. Behind the ruined wall stood another wall just as tall.
"Let's see how big you can make this!" Voldemort sneered and swung his wand again.
Boom, boom, boom, boom!
Explosions rang out without pause. Wall after wall collapsed beneath Voldemort's magic, but behind every wall stood another just as tall.
Voldemort did not know whether he had blasted through dozens or hundreds of walls, but when he looked back, the "path" he had broken open was gone. Newly formed walls stood there again, as though nothing had happened.
"To think... such a thing exists." The expression on Voldemort's ugly face had grown even uglier.
"What is it? Tired?" Tris's voice seemed to come from every direction. "You really are remarkable, being able to display such power even inside my mental world. Unfortunately, you can't escape this maze through brute force."
"Hmph!" Voldemort snorted, but did not argue.
He had just tried forcing his way out, and it truly did not work. Reluctant as he was, he could only attempt to leave the maze by conventional means.
But this maze was far too large...
After wandering through the maze for an unknown length of time, Voldemort felt crushing exhaustion. He knew it was a sign that he had consumed too much of his soul's power.
He had passed through hundreds, perhaps thousands of junctions, trying hard to remember every route. But it was no use. Every junction looked exactly the same.
Even with Voldemort's astonishing memory, he lost track of the routes in a very short time.
He felt as though he had been walking for an eternity, yet he still saw no sign of a way out.
And this maze was not flat. There were stairs leading up and ladders leading down. Sometimes, as he walked, he even felt as though the entire maze had turned upside down.
Within this space, both time and space seemed chaotic and without any pattern.
Voldemort was an expert in soul magic. Otherwise, he would never have dared attempt its most forbidden soul-splitting art-Horcrux Magic. Yet he had truly never heard of a maze like this.
Tris, meanwhile, was experiencing something extraordinary.
He was high above, overlooking an almost boundless maze whose space constantly folded and shifted.
After completing the system's first twenty-eight-day task, his Memory Palace had evolved into a Thought Maze. But until now, Tris had not known its specific uses.
He had only learned, while wearing the Sorting Hat during the Sorting Ceremony, that ordinary probing magic could not peer into his consciousness.
Although he had thought that was impressive at the time, he had lacked a clear understanding of just how impressive it was.
Now, that understanding had arrived.
Even reduced to a mere soul fragment, Voldemort was certainly no ordinary opponent. Hadn't Ron's mind been affected simply by wearing the locket, while Ginny had been outright bewitched by the diary?
Now this soul fragment was firmly trapped within the Thought Maze, unable to escape. The effectiveness of this Thought Maze...
Come to think of it, if Voldemort stayed trapped here, how would he manage to resurrect himself?
That question occurred to Tris.
From his third-person perspective, he could see every change within the Thought Maze, and naturally, he could also tell that Voldemort was clearly tired. It was the result of his spirit weakening.
Voldemort's earlier attempts to destroy the Thought Maze directly had consumed too much of his soul's power. Although he could still maintain a stable form, there was no telling how long that would last.
If Voldemort remained trapped here, it was only a matter of time before he was completely drained away.
Then wouldn't that mean I'd killed Voldemort?
Tris was delighted. He even began considering how, if he really destroyed Voldemort here, he could later persuade Dumbledore or his own father to find Voldemort's Horcruxes and erase him for good.
If he could solve the problem so easily, that would naturally be ideal. His family would no longer be in danger, either.
But before he could continue enjoying that pleasant prospect, Voldemort, who had been searching for the almost impossible-to-find exit, suddenly stopped and raised his head.
For some reason, Tris felt as though his heart had skipped a beat.
For that instant, he actually felt as though Voldemort was looking straight at him from afar.
Of course, it was an illusion. He was not inside the maze, but observing Voldemort within it from a completely third-person perspective. There was no way Voldemort could detect his presence.
But because of his viewing angle, when Voldemort raised his head, Tris happened to be looking directly into his eyes.
Those scarlet eyes, filled with madness.
"Very good. An impressive trick. But do you think this is enough to trap me?" Voldemort's chilling voice echoed through the maze.
Just as Tris wondered what he was about to do, the body formed by Voldemort's soul projection began to swell.
It was not his entire body expanding. Instead, fist-sized lumps kept appearing across its surface. They multiplied and grew larger until they covered every inch of Voldemort's body.
The next moment, there was a bang.
All the lumps exploded at once, turning into countless flecks of silver light.
Ah!
Tris was startled. As the Thought Maze's absolute controller, he could clearly sense everything within it, and he distinctly felt Voldemort disappear from the Thought Maze.
He had actually escaped, using a method Tris had never anticipated.