I became Voldemort

Chapter 271: Avada Kedavra

"He won't tell you what sustains my magic, what kept me alive even after I lost my body. Cyrus certainly hasn't told you how he was revived and why he opposes me. Neither of them will explain why you're sometimes so... special. Why I needed your blood for my resurrection. Why, in your first year, Quirrell couldn't even touch you..."

Harry's breathing grew heavier. He realized that anything Voldemort said next was something he shouldn't believe, shouldn't hear. He wanted to cover his ears, block out every word.

But he couldn't control himself. Voldemort's voice seemed to have a magnetic pull, compelling him to listen.n/ô/vel/b//in dot c//om

"Let me tell you—"

Voldemort leaned closer, whispering softly in Harry's ear, "You are one of my Horcruxes!"

As he spoke, his finger pressed deeper into Harry's scar, piercing it. Blood oozed out from the lightning-shaped wound.

"Inside this very scar lies a piece of my soul!"

The revelation shocked everyone. Ginny and Hermione exchanged worried glances, their faces pale as they looked at Harry.

Finally, Harry reacted, shouting, "You're lying!"

"Lying?"

Voldemort sneered, a cold laugh escaping his lips. "In the past, I've made some poor choices, which led to this situation. You don't believe me? Then answer this: if not for my magic, how else do you explain your ability to speak Parseltongue?"

With that single statement, Voldemort shattered Harry's resolve.

He recalled his second year, when he had demonstrated his Parseltongue ability in the Duelling Club and was even suspected of being the Heir of Slytherin. Now, Voldemort was telling him that he had not inherited Slytherin's power but rather Voldemort's own power!

What an absurd and revolting revelation!

But Voldemort seemed oblivious to Harry's disgust. Instead, he adopted a mockingly sympathetic tone:

"Look at you, poor Harry Potter. Orphaned at such a young age, unloved and neglected. Then you came to Hogwarts, thinking that dear Dumbledore had a special affection for you, and believing you had found friendship in Cyrus..."

Voldemort's voice cut into Harry's heart like a knife.

"But in reality?"

"It's nothing but an illusion..."

"A lie, Harry!" Voldemort said with feigned warmth.

"No one in this world is colder or more ruthless than Dumbledore. And I would know—he made me what I am!"

Voldemort placed a hand on his chest, speaking with dramatic emotion. "Once all the Horcruxes are destroyed, and then you are killed, I will no longer be immortal!"

"He let you live, only so that one day, he could send you to your death!"

C-Could it be true?

Harry couldn't help but feel a deep sense of desolation.

Could the truth really be as Voldemort described?

"This is indeed a grand endeavor, Harry, don't you think?" Voldemort said, his tone mocking.

"And as for Cyrus—did you truly believe he sees you as a friend? Let me remind you, he is my Horcrux, born from the fragments of my soul. He kept you alive only to digest you later, to consume your soul when the time is ripe."

"Of course, I will handle that first, just as I have done in every timeline." Voldemort toyed with Harry cruelly, as though he were nothing more than a puppet devoid of soul or will. "Don't worry—it will hurt just a little, but it will all be over quickly, because you will—die."

When Voldemort uttered the word die, his voice was so soft and gentle that it sounded less like a condemnation and more like a kindness.

And that word, die, seemed to break the spell of fear binding everyone else in the room.

Harry still felt his limbs numb, but in that moment, Fleur lunged toward her unconscious sister, while Cassandra activated an ancient enchantment on her wrist, sending a bolt of lightning hurtling toward Voldemort!

Crack!

The electric light streaked through the air like an arrow, aiming straight for Voldemort's head!

However, Voldemort didn't even turn his head. He caught the lightning bolt with a single backward motion, gripping it tightly as his fingers closed. The electric light scattered instantly.

Boom!!

A tremendous wave of magical energy erupted from Voldemort, blasting everyone in the room backward. Cassandra was thrown headfirst into the mountain-like heap of clocks, her entire body buried beneath the chaos.

Then, Voldemort lifted Harry high into the air by one hand. Harry suddenly noticed that the wand in Voldemort's other hand looked exactly like Dumbledore's wand.

Voldemort was now pressing that wand into Harry's scar.

"Don't worry," Voldemort said with mock gentleness, "you won't be alone for too long. Many others will join you soon. You can wait for them at that white King's Cross station. All those you love will come one by one. Well, except for Cyrus—his soul belongs to me!"

"You won't win!" Harry shouted defiantly. "You're nothing but his defeated opponent! If he killed you once, he can do it a second time, and a third!"

This time, Voldemort wasn't angered. He simply shook his head.

"Times have changed, Harry. I've grown stronger, while Cyrus—well, I suspect he's grown so old now he can barely hold a wand anymore."

"Well then, I think we're done talking." Voldemort's tone was laced with boredom. The wand in his hand seemed to have plunged halfway into Harry's scar. By all logic, it should have pierced right through Harry's head.

But it didn't. Instead, the lightning-shaped scar split open, revealing an intense, radiant light shining from within.

"Ahhhhhhhhhhhhh—!"

Harry screamed in agony, feeling as though his body was being torn apart, piece by piece!

"Harry!" Cedric, bloodied and battered, crawled out of the chaotic pile of clocks. His voice calling out caught Harry's attention, and Harry couldn't help but crack open his eyelids to look in his direction.

Harry struggled to open his mouth. He couldn't make a sound, but Cedric could tell what he was trying to say.

He was saying: "Run!"

Take the others and escape, tell the Aurors, tell the judges and the professors...

That was what should have been done, but Cedric knew he couldn't take that many people with him. He also knew that even if he brought the Aurors, it would be of no use. The only ones who could stop Voldemort were already in the Ministry of Magic.

What he needed was to buy Harry a little more time!

Even if it meant risking his own life!

"Voldemort!" Cedric screamed in desperation!

It was the first time he had spoken the terrifying name, but surprisingly, he didn't feel any fear in his chest.

Perhaps it was because he had become numb, or maybe it was the surge of courage urging him to stand firm before Voldemort!

He raised his wand high, both arms shaking as though they were carrying a thousand-pound weight, but still aimed directly at Voldemort's head.

"Let Harry go!"

"Look, here's a brave little boy." Voldemort sneered, then turned to Harry and said, "See, Harry, someone else is willing to sacrifice themselves for you. You're such an unlucky person, having killed your own parents, your friends..."

"Run... Cedric, run!" Harry cried out in desperation, tears streaming down his face.

But Cedric's feet seemed rooted to the ground.

"What a touching bond... Avada Kedavra!"

In an instant, a flash of fire erupted!

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