Voldemort's words sent Harry plunging into an icy abyss, as if the floor had opened beneath him and he was falling through infinite darkness.
Clearly, Voldemort had already detected the soul fragment hidden in his forehead.
Adrian had specifically instructed him that this was a secret that must never, under any circumstances, be revealed to Voldemort. He could never know what he'd accidentally created.
A chill crawled up Harry's spine and shot straight to the top of his head. It filled him with a terror greater than any spell could inflict.
"What are you talking about?" Harry said, forcing himself to sound calm and confused despite the panic screaming through his mind.
"Are you afraid?"
Voldemort keenly caught the flash of panic that appeared across Harry's face before he could fully suppress it.
His red eyes narrowed slightly with satisfaction as he recovered that composed, controlled demeanor as though it hadn't been him shouting in desperate fury and pain just moments ago when Harry had grabbed him.
"It seems my guess was correct." Voldemort's voice was low but filled with certainty. "How delightful."
He slowly took a step forward. His cracked left hand hung beneath his torn sleeve, fingers were twitching, yet his wand remained steadily pointed at Harry's chest without wavering. "My soul fragment is inside you, isn't it? It seems to have fused quite deeply with you over all these years..."
He couldn't let him continue! He had to break his rhythm, disrupt this line of thinking!
Harry's head snapped up sharply, deliberately displaying an expression that mixed contempt with reckless provocation to distract, to throw Voldemort off balance.
"Is that so?" He let out a scornful laugh that rebounded with false boldness, gripping his wand even tighter. "If you want it back so badly..."
"Then come and take it yourself!"
"Expelliarmus!"
The moment the defiant words left his lips, Harry's spell had already shot forth with explosive force.
Perhaps it was the desperate power of being driven into an absolute corner, cornered like a wounded animal with nothing left to lose. But this Disarming Charm was completely different from all his previous attempts, it seemed to be transformed by pure will and terror and determination.
The red beam of light emerged like an enraged dragon breaking free from chains, carrying far greater speed and concentrated power than any previous attempt. It shot straight toward Voldemort's heart!
However, the ultimate outcome would be no different, no matter how much power Harry poured into it.
The gap between them was simply too vast.
"Protego!"
A silver barrier instantly appeared in the air between them, shimmering like molten mercury.
Harry's full-force strike, everything he had left in him, collided with the barrier like a pebble dropping into an ocean. It created only the smallest ripple across the surface before dissipating into nothing. The chasm of power between them could not be bridged by a momentary burst of desperation, no matter how intense.
Voldemort didn't even give Harry the opportunity to gather his strength for a second spell, didn't allow him a moment to recover.
In the same instant he casually blocked the Disarming Charm, his wrist gave a slight flick. Another spell had already flown across the distance to Harry's unprotected face.
This time, there was no cover to dive behind, nothing to use as a shield.
"...!"
Harry's vision went completely black as his legs gave out beneath him. He collapsed to the ground, unconscious before he hit the floor.
The last thing his fading eyes captured was Voldemort's young face drawing steadily closer, wearing a cruel smile of absolute victory.
And those terrible red eyes that seemed capable of devouring all light, all hope, all resistance.
A cold sensation pressed against his forehead. It was Voldemort's wand tip pressing against his scar.
"Let me see..." Voldemort murmured with anticipation, "where exactly you've hidden it."
Harry's consciousness sank completely into the abyss, drowning in darkness.
When Adrian returned to Hogwarts Castle after his urgent meeting with Sirius and Remus, his heart was filled with an unsettling, growing unease that he couldn't shake.
Something felt wrong.
The campus was utterly silent in a way that felt unnatural and oppressive.
Night had fallen completely while he'd been away, the last traces of twilight having vanished behind the mountains. The sky was a deep, starless black.
Aside from a few students still lingering outside in small clusters, talking in hushed voices, most should have already returned to their respective common rooms for the evening.
John was a Slytherin student, he reminded himself.
If he wanted to check on John's condition immediately, to verify the disturbing implications of what he'd learned, he would probably need to make a trip to the Slytherin common room in the dungeons.
But going alone to another house's common room, barging in without permission, was clearly inappropriate.
Forget it, he should go find Snape first instead.
Although that continuously stubborn man always wore an expression as though someone owed him a large sum of money and had no intention of repaying, he should still be able to locate a specific student, especially a student from his own house.
This matter didn't concern only Adrian alone anymore, not if his suspicions were correct.
Or he could go directly to Dumbledore with this information, though their headmaster had frequently been absent from school lately on business. His whereabouts were difficult to track.
Adrian set off immediately toward the dungeons.
Just as he was passing through the first-floor corridor, he heard other footsteps approaching from ahead.
Two familiar figures appeared around the corner at a near-run, nearly colliding with him in their haste.
It was Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley.
"Good evening, Professor Westeros." Hermione hurriedly offered a greeting, slightly breathless. She appeared somewhat agitated.
Adrian glanced at the two of them with quick assessment and casually said, "Good evening. Where's Harry? Not with you tonight? Oh..." He paused lightly. "I suppose you're on a date."
Ron opened his mouth to refute something indignantly, but Hermione immediately cut him off with a sharp gesture.
She ignored the second half of Adrian's statement, focusing on what mattered. She quickly answered, "Harry should be in the Room of Requirement. We just tried to find him there, but for some reason, the door won't open."
"The Room of Requirement can only open one room at a time," Adrian explained patiently. "If Harry went in first, you must think of exactly the same room in your minds to enter the same space he's occupying."
"We tried that already," Ron interjected with frustration. "We agreed to meet in the Room of Requirement's lounge—we always use the same one. The door did appear just like normal, but it just won't push open no matter how hard we try."
Strange.
Very strange indeed.
Adrian's eyes narrowed with sudden sharp focus; his earlier unease was now rising.
His instinct told him this wasn't a simple matter.
"We're worried about Harry," Hermione said, her voice was filled with concern. "He's been gone for hours. He said he was just going to study."
"I'll go check on the situation immediately." Adrian's voice was grave and clipped as he turned and headed toward the stairs with urgency.
The best method was to confirm things on site.
Hermione and Ron exchanged glances, communicating silently, and immediately followed close behind him. Their earlier argument was forgotten in the worry.
The three of them rushed up the staircases, taking them two at a time. They navigated through the castle's corridors until they reached the eighth floor, finally stopping before that ridiculous tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy being clubbed by trolls.
Under Adrian's concise instruction, Hermione immediately followed the standard procedure they'd used countless times. She walked back and forth three times in front of the tapestry, concentrating hard on the familiar lounge.
Soon, just as Ron had described, a smooth door appeared on the previously blank wall.
Hermione explained quickly, "It was exactly the same earlier when we tried. The door appears perfectly normally, but it just wouldn't open no matter what we did. Even the Alohomora unlocking charm didn't work, the lock won't respond."
They could have used a forceful method to break the door down, Ron and Hermione both knew, but that might damage the Room of Requirement's delicate magic permanently. So, they'd restrained themselves and come to find help instead.
Adrian said nothing in response. He stepped forward decisively and pressed his hand flat against the smooth door panel, feeling the wood's texture and the magic thrumming beneath.
"Finite Incantatem!"
He hadn't drawn his wand, yet the counter-spell still took immediate effect.
An invisible wave of magic instantly spread out from his palm like ripples across a pond.
"Crack!"
The sharp sound of something shattering rang out clearly in the silent corridor as the magical aura lingering on the door panel, sealing it shut, completely dissipated into nothing.
Adrian didn't hesitate for even a moment. He immediately pushed the door open with force.
A mixture of pungent burning smells, choking dust, and some indescribably cold aura rushed out from inside like a wave.
The scene beyond the door came into full view, and it was worse than Adrian had feared:
The once clean and comfortable lounge, the safe space where Harry and his friends had spent so many hours, was now in complete disarray. Its walls were covered with scorched black marks and impact craters, evidence of powerful spells striking stone. The floor was scattered with shattered wood fragments and torn clothes; the furniture was completely destroyed.
And in the center of the devastated room, Harry lay motionless on the ground. His face was pale, drained of all color. His eyes were tightly closed, and his wand had rolled away to the side.
Apart from Harry's unconscious form, the room was completely empty. There was no sign of whoever had done this.
"Harry!" Hermione and Ron cried out in unison, their voices were cracking with panic. They immediately moved to rush inside.
"Wait!" Adrian said sharply, his commanding voice stopped them in their tracks. He threw his arm across to physically block them. "Don't move yet."
He swept his gaze around the room at the fastest speed possible, checking corners and shadows for threats, analyzing the magical signatures still lingering in the air.
Only after confirming there was no danger, and no hidden enemy waiting to strike, did he step aside and lower his arm. "Be careful. Don't touch anything after you go in."
"Harry!?"
Only then did Hermione and Ron rush in frantically. They threw themselves down beside their unconscious friend, their hands were hovering uncertainly, afraid to touch him.
Adrian followed closely behind them, moving with urgency.
He could sense the lingering magical fluctuations still resonating in the room like echoes, along with the unmistakable strong aura of dark magic that made his skin crawl.
This clearly wasn't magic left behind by Harry.
He quickly walked to Harry's side, crouched down beside the boy's unconscious body, and reached out to check Harry's breathing and carotid pulse.
Still alive, thank everything. But his pulse was very weak.
In fact, he had already had the Tree of Wisdom silently analyze Harry's physical condition while standing at the door, conducting a thorough scan the moment he'd laid eyes on the boy.
[Status: Soul Integrity (99%)]
So, this is the result...
Adrian furrowed his brow deeply, his mood becoming heavy with grim understanding.
Harry's soul was also missing a piece now—it was exactly the same condition as his sister's illness. Just to a much lesser degree, only one percent rather than the catastrophic loss she'd suffered.
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