Chapter 771: Chapter 771

"Oh, Harry, you can't expect an old man at the end of his days to love this world more than those of your generation. I did dream of changing it; I left all my passion, longing, fervor, and desire in that summer, in the era that belonged to me. You are more willing than I to make the world a better place, and I—look, they are waiting for me!"

Harry raised his head, finding himself somehow at the place where the white light was. Before, he couldn't see anything, but now his eyes caught some figures: they were Dumbledore's father, mother, and sister, holding hands with gentle gazes.

"Is this real? Are they real?" Harry asked eagerly, wanting to remind Dumbledore in this way. Perhaps his family, like the other illusions he had seen before, existed because of Dumbledore.

"I know I must go alone, but I won't refuse to fill my belly before stepping into a new adventure," Dumbledore said softly, and Harry knew then that Dumbledore was awake and determined. He watched Dumbledore walk towards the white light, towards his family.

"Good health to you, Harry," Dumbledore said finally, and then the white light engulfed him.

In the headmaster's office, Felix saw Harry open his eyes in the mirror, his face returning to its usual self. Felix breathed a sigh of relief; he knew Dumbledore had succeeded. Fawkes let out a short, mournful cry. Felix stood up, dragging his 'damaged' arm, and approached Dumbledore. It seemed like he was sleeping, with the Resurrection Stone ring on his hand flickering, as if breathing.

A clear cracking sound. A crack appeared on the surface of the Resurrection Stone, like a black gem, and then there was a series of dense, rustling sounds, cracks spreading like spider webs. In an instant, the Resurrection Stone turned into fragments.

A wand fell from the sleeve.

Felix hesitated for a moment, then placed the wand back into Dumbledore's hand.

"Harry," he turned to the mirror, speaking clearly.

At the same time, Fawkes spread his wings, glanced back at Dumbledore sitting quietly, and flew into the mirror. The mournful cry echoed in Felix and Harry's ears. Harry struggled to sit up; he was aching all over, but upon hearing the professor's shout and Fawkes's cry, he grabbed his askew glasses and looked up at the phoenix hovering above.

Professor Hagrid's voice seemed to come from the entire sky:

"Harry, Dumbledore left Voldemort to you. Can you handle it?"

Harry looked towards Voldemort, who was about to wake up not far away. He murmured, "Leave it to me." He remained in place, quietly watching Voldemort rise from the ground, observing the expression on his face change from shock to realization, then to hatred, and finally to panic.

"You took the form of Snape and destroyed my last Horcrux?" Voldemort shrieked, gripping his wand, nervously looking around, shouting into the air, "Dumbledore! Hagrid! Where are you? Show yourselves!"

Harry watched the hysterical Voldemort, lowering his eyes.

"Don't bother shouting; it's just me here."

"Just you?" Voldemort looked at him in astonishment, then suddenly realized, "They sent you to kill me? You, they dared—" He abruptly stopped, a hint of pity appearing in his eyes as he looked at Harry. ɴᴇᴡ ɴᴏᴠᴇʟ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀs ᴀʀᴇ ᴘᴜʙʟɪsʜᴇᴅ ᴏɴ novｅlfire.net

"Voldemort, you are alone, but behind me stand all those who love me," Harry said, but his words only made Voldemort angrier.

"Harry Potter!" Voldemort spat out the name with utmost venom.

"Tom Riddle," Harry said calmly.

There was nothing more to say. At this moment, everything became clear. They both had the same thought in their minds: only one would leave here alive. Red light clashed with green light, and where the spells met, golden flames burst forth. Both exerted all their strength.

The phoenix let out a loud cry, like the drumbeat of war, boosting Harry's confidence. The red light completely overwhelmed the green light, casting a ghastly green hue on Voldemort's face. Fear shone in his eyes; the green light was forced back into the wand, and Voldemort's body stiffened, his face frozen in fear.

His wand flew into the air, spinning towards Harry, but instead of reaching out to catch it, Harry let the wand fall to the ground. He gazed at Voldemort, knowing that it was all over.

Felix closed his eyes. After a while, he opened his light blue eyes and said, "You're tired, Harry. Fawkes will take you to the school hospital to have Madam Pomfrey check on you. And—"

He hesitated for a moment. "Don't disclose Dumbledore's death to anyone yet. Keep it strictly confidential. I will explain it to you tomorrow."

The reflection in front of him disappeared, and Felix remained in the darkness. For him, tonight was far from over. He continued to dismantle the magic lingering in his arm, the spells resisting passively but yielding under Felix's suppression.

A gray-green hue began to appear on the horizon, signaling that dawn was approaching in a few hours.

A stiff body was thrown into a cell.

Grindelwald fell heavily to the ground like a sack, his body showing no signs of movement.

"Is he dead?" a member of the law enforcement team questioned.

Then, Grindelwald heard the scraping sound of shoes against the ground, followed by footsteps stopping beside him, and then a finger probing under his nose. Grindelwald emitted shallow, even breaths.

"He's just unconscious."

The footsteps moved away completely, and Grindelwald waited quietly. The door was locked, followed by a sizzle sound— the sound of the cell's defensive magic activating. Then the footsteps and voices became faint, but he kept waiting, holding his breath, not missing any small echoes—finally, from a distant place came the sound of a door closing.

Grindelwald lifted his head with hollow eyes. No one was in front of him.

He grinned silently, then let out a sound, laughter growing louder, echoing in the narrow cell, until he began to retch. He coughed, retched, his expression contorted in pain, tears streaming uncontrollably down his face. Finally—

A bloody Pensieve was vomited out, spinning on the ground.

"Thank you for your kindness, Longbottom, for not destroying that strand of hair."

Grindelwald's voice was hoarse as he took out Tales of Beedle the Bard from his robes, placing it in the furthest corner. Now was not the time to read it. He returned, picking up the Pensieve from the ground. Threads of magic poured out from it, then turned into blazing blue flames, engulfing him in a burning torch.

A suppressed groan emanated from the cell.

After who knows how long, a low chanting came from within the blue flames, and a blue phoenix soared into the sky.

Tonight was destined to be a long night.

You can access more chapters from HERE by joining my community. You'll gain exclusive early access to the COMPLETE NOVEL.

As a member of my community, here is what you'll get: