A magical journey that begins in Azkaban.

Chapter 571 Reconnection (5K)
As soon as the word Elder Wand was mentioned, it seemed to possess some mysterious magic power, instantly attracting the attention of everyone present. The air was filled with a tense and curious atmosphere, and even the sound of breathing became barely audible.

Buck couldn't help but murmur in a low voice: "Legend has it that the Elder Wand was made by the god of death himself. In a duel, it can allow the user to release unimaginable magical power, making his owner invincible." There was a hint of awe in his voice and a strong desire in his eyes.

"However, it has been gone for many years. No one knows where it is now, or if it really exists. Unexpectedly, Dumbledore originally occupied it."

Dumbledore waved his wand gently, and a soft light enveloped his body, stopping the wounds on his body.

He shook his head slowly: "It is not the Elder Wand." His tone was firm and calm, as if he was stating an indisputable fact.

Then, a powerful magic gushed out from the tip of the wand. The surrounding snow seemed to be summoned by something and quickly melted into clear water, sweeping towards Voldemort like a rushing river.

In the blink of an eye, the water gathered into a huge transparent sphere, wrapping Voldemort tightly inside.

Voldemort was like a trapped beast, struggling in the water ball. Through the surging water and waves, his face became blurred and terrifying, like a twisted nightmare.

"Master!" The Death Eaters were terrified and shouted in panic.

Their voices were filled with fear and anxiety, and they obviously did not expect the situation to reverse so quickly.

In the chaos, Bella's voice stood out like her loyalty. Her eyes burned with rage, and she stared at Dumbledore with hatred, as if she wanted to cut him into pieces.

"Attack him! Help the master to free the water ball!"

The Death Eaters rushed towards Dumbledore like wild beasts being whipped.

However, a powerful wave of magic emanated from Dumbledore, and anything that tried to approach was repelled.

The skeletons also received some invisible instructions and strangely rotated their heads 180 degrees, with their empty eye sockets facing Dumbledore, slowly and steadily approaching him.

Voldemort in the water ball was in extreme pain. His snake-like face was twisted into a hideous look, and his scarlet eyes were filled with rage and unwillingness.

No matter how he waved his wand or how powerful the spell he chanted, the water prison built by Dumbledore remained motionless. Through the twisting water, he saw Dumbledore approaching him step by step, with determination flashing in his blue eyes.

As if sensing death approaching, Voldemort mobilized all the magic power in his body and finally stretched his pale hand out of the water ball.

Then, Lily suddenly pounced on her son Harry and strangled his neck with her slender but powerful hands.

Harry looked at his mother in confusion. A strong feeling of suffocation made him suddenly dizzy, and his whole face turned visibly crimson purple.

"Lily? Hurry, let Harry go!" Lupin and Sirius' screams cut through the air. They ignored the attacks of the Death Eaters and rushed over shouting.

However, at this moment, hundreds of Dementors suddenly appeared on the battlefield, rushing towards everyone without distinguishing between friend and foe.

These terrifying creatures formed a suffocating black ocean, exuding a biting cold and endless despair. Their existence was like a ball of black ink that devoured everything, instantly wiping out all the colors and hopes around them.

The air was filled with fear and despair, and even breathing became weak.

Dumbledore caught this scene, and a trace of worry flashed in his eyes. As a last resort, he temporarily suspended his control over the water ball, waving his left hand quickly, and a ball of dazzling silver light gushed out from his palm.

The silver light instantly transformed into a majestic phoenix. Dumbledore's patronus spread its silver wings and circled lightly and gracefully in the air.

Every flap of the wings sprinkles countless crystal points of light, like seeds of hope blooming in the darkness.

The Dementors not far away seemed to have seen some kind of terrifying natural enemy. Under those expressionless black hoods, they revealed silent fear.

The next second, as if they had received some silent command, they all changed direction and fled in all directions at an alarming speed, not daring to stay even a moment longer.

"A bunch of trash! Damn traitors!" Voldemort's roar exploded like thunder, and his scarlet eyes burned with endless anger and hatred.

Taking advantage of the moment when Dumbledore was distracted, he finally found a breakthrough and broke through the restraint of the water ball.

Under his control, the falling water curtain instantly condensed into countless crystal clear ice flakes. These ice flakes were suspended in the air, flashing with a cold light, like razors, ready to harvest lives at any time.

He smiled grimly and waved his wand violently.

The sharp ice flakes suddenly shot towards Dumbledore and the others like an arrow from a bow. The ears were filled with the sharp sound of breaking through the air, as if the god of death was whispering to him.

Lupin and Sirius finally controlled the crazy Lily, and Harry knelt on the ground, holding his burning throat with both hands, coughing continuously. His green eyes were full of sadness, and tears flashed in his eyes as he looked at his mother who was controlled by the Imperius Curse.

"Found it." Rogge stood on the valley, looking at the Department of Mysteries not far away, with a hint of joy in his eyes.

He knew clearly that there was not only a cabinet full of time-space converters, but also countless props collected by the Ministry of Magic.

He turned to glance at the principal's patronus and gently placed his palm on the black door.

"This is..." Rogge's face suddenly changed, and a hint of surprise flashed in his eyes.

In my mind, the panel that had been silent for a long time suddenly became active: [Independent space found, can be connected to the system. ]

"Independent space? Is this a change caused by the separation of the Department of Mysteries from the Ministry of Magic?"

He recalled his first experience with the Room of Requirement. At that time, the same prompt appeared on the panel. Unfortunately, the energy was insufficient and there were other forces preventing it.

Although he later recharged the panel with energy through the Philosopher's Stone, he never tried to explore the secrets of the Room of Requirement again.

After all, Dumbledore's blue eyes always made people feel uneasy, and he didn't want to risk arousing the headmaster's suspicion.

"Department of Mysteries or Room of Requirement?" Roger muttered to himself, rubbing his fingers gently under his chin.

If the energy is sufficient, he would naturally want both. But so far, only the Philosopher's Stone can replenish the energy of the panel. And the Philosopher's Stone disappeared or was destroyed, so he had no time to find a second one.

"Why should I bother?" He clapped his hands suddenly, a glimmer of enlightenment in his eyes: "The Room of Requirement can change its form according to the user's thoughts. This flexibility is unparalleled. And the Department of Mysteries, after all, is just a fancy warehouse."

"As long as the goods inside are taken away, the empty shell outside is not important at all. Besides, the pot can be given to dear Voldemort." A sly smile appeared at the corner of his mouth.

Roger looked down at the battle in the valley, the magic light flickering. He turned to Maria and whispered, "Let's go back to Hogwarts first."

The Department of Mysteries can be explored at any time, but this might be the only chance to take the Room of Requirement away.

Although Voldemort claimed to be the most powerful dark wizard, in Roger's eyes, he was never a match for Dumbledore. He might be beaten to a pulp by the headmaster in the next second.

However, he was stronger than Roger thought.

Voldemort possessed many rare and powerful dark magics, which not only enabled him to dodge Dumbledore's attacks flexibly, but also caused him some minor troubles.

He moved quickly and cautiously in the graveyard, like a deadly venomous snake, and if he got a chance, he would bite hard, forcing Dumbledore to be on guard.

At the same time, he would use Kendel's bones as a shield, forcing Dumbledore to change the direction of the spell.

Hogwarts Castle was exceptionally peaceful at this time, the students were still on the Hogwarts Express, and the number of professors was only half of the usual number.

The playful Peeves floats face down along the ceiling, setting new mischievous traps everywhere.

In the tapestry on the eighth floor, a group of trolls kept waving sticks and beating the poor wizard in the middle endlessly.

Rogge walked back and forth three times across the tapestry, concentrating on his needs. As he wished, a familiar door appeared out of thin air on the stone wall.

Roger took a deep breath and gently pushed open the door, and what came into his sight was a spacious and bright potion room.

The panel in my mind flashed again: [Independent space found, can be connected to the system. ]

Rogge's heartbeat quickened, and he gave the order without hesitation: "Access."

He stared at the panel and saw that the energy bar below was reduced by two-thirds in an instant.

【Start accessing...】

Suddenly, a warning message popped up: [Warning! Warning! Protected by abnormality, continue to access? ] The bow has been shot and there is no turning back. He resolutely said: "Continue."

Following this command, the remaining energy bar disappeared. Rogge's heart was in his throat, fearing that his adventure would end in failure.

After a few seconds of silence, the panel finally gave new feedback.

[Access successful, 1%...5%...]

Seeing the progress bar rising continuously, Rogge breathed a sigh of relief, with a hint of joy in his eyes.

Dumbledore, who was fighting fiercely with Voldemort, suddenly changed his expression. As the headmaster recognized by Hogwarts, he could sense that the castle was being invaded by some mysterious and powerful force.

"Dumbledore, you still look down on me!" Voldemort roared angrily, "When I applied for the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, you rejected me with this look."

Before he finished speaking, his body suddenly began to disintegrate, turning into wisps of black smoke that dissipated into the air. This sudden change caused everyone on the battlefield to fall into a brief stagnation.

People were either surprised, happy, or afraid, looking at the place where the black smoke disappeared, not knowing what Voldemort was going to do.

Dumbledore turned suddenly, his voice filled with an unprecedented sense of urgency: "Stay there, Harry!"

However, it was too late.

Harry felt a sudden burst of intense pain from his scar, as if someone was branding his forehead with a red-hot iron. Every nerve in his body was in indescribable pain, and the whole world was twisting and spinning before his eyes.

Professor McGonagall looked at Harry who was bound by the fire rope and asked in confusion: "Albus, what's going on? Why are you tying him up?"

Harry made a painful sound in his throat, but when he spoke, his voice was completely different. The tone and intonation were like another Voldemort speaking: "Old man, you lose."

"Harry..." Dumbledore called softly, a trace of pain and self-blame flashing across his face.

"It's your choice, Dumbledore! If death means nothing, then kill this boy." His words were cold and ruthless.

"Is that weakness in your eyes?" Harry's body was like a puppet controlled by strings. He jumped up suddenly, and his legs swung weakly in the air.

His movements were as fast as lightning, and he easily avoided the interception of others like a ghost. In the blink of an eye, he was in front of Lily, with his wand firmly pressed against her soft chin.

"If you were given another chance, would you choose this child again?" Harry let out a series of strange cries, his voice mixed with Voldemort's grim smile: "Then, I will choose Harry as my opponent as you wish."

The wand shot up like lightning, mercilessly piercing Lily's chin. Then, it was yanked out, bringing out a stream of bright red blood.

Lily's body quickly went limp, like a dying flower: pale and sad.

"No!"

Two heart-wrenching shouts rang out at the same time, one far away and one near. One was from Harry, and the other came from Snape not far away.

Harry finally felt his limbs, but then fell to the ground in extreme pain.

He looked into his mother's green eyes, which were exactly the same as his own, and felt as if his heart was being trampled back and forth by tens of thousands of mammoths. The pain almost tore him apart.

Snape rushed to Lily like a black whirlwind. He held her in his arms with trembling hands and frantically used various potions and healing magic to try to stop the wound.

Fortunately, the wand did not pierce the carotid artery. With his treatment at all costs, Lily's breathing was weak but she did not disappear.

"You promised me!" Snape's eyes were red, tears and anger intertwined, he roared hysterically at Harry, "You and James can only bring misfortune to her forever!"

Harry was hunched over in pain, his soul engaged in a fierce battle with Voldemort.

In his spiritual world, an invisible mirror blocked his soul, and what was reflected was Voldemort's face.

His consciousness struggled in pain and confusion, and images from the past kept flashing in his mind: his mother's firm eyes in the baby's room, the fantasy of family reunion in the Mirror of Erised, and his parents' protection of him in the flashback spell...

Memory, like a sharp knife, cuts his heart.

Dumbledore squatted down, his beautiful blue eyes filled with worry and regret.

"Harry." He called gently, no longer caring about the changes in Hogwarts. "It doesn't matter who you look like. What matters is that you are you."

Harry struggled to support himself with his hands and tried to stand up, but every movement was painful for him.

The blood on the ground and the weapon in his hand kept reminding him of the horrible fact: he had hurt his mother with his own hands.

The truth was like boiling magma, roaring towards him.

A strong hatred burned in Harry's heart, and the scar on his forehead became more and more painful, as if someone was poking it with a needle.

"Is it over?" A flash of fire passed by, and Rogue returned to the Department of Mysteries again.

He looked around, his eyes sweeping across the quiet valley, ready to push open the door and enter.

Suddenly, there was a strong wave of magic in the air, and a wizard who was not tall but had a straight and elegant figure appeared out of thin air at the edge of the cliff.

"Who are you?" Roger held the wand and stared at the person who came vigilantly.

The man moved slowly and turned to face Roger. His gray-blue eyes, like Dumbledore's, sparkled with wisdom.

"Hello, my name is Nicolas Flamel." The other person showed a friendly smile on his pale face, and his voice was gentle and calm.

"The maker of the Philosopher's Stone? Dumbledore's beloved (crossed out) relatives and friends?" Roger was shocked and felt his throat dry.

His brain was working rapidly, and he was thinking secretly: "Why is this legendary alchemist here? Could he be the reinforcement invited by Old Bee?"

Nicolas Flamel smiled and walked slowly down the mountain without saying a word. It seemed that this was his first time in Godric's Hollow, so his Apparition was not accurate.

"Maria, go back to the Crystal Castle and rest first." Rogge looked back at the gate of the Department of Mysteries and trotted after her.

Harry in the cemetery was experiencing a violent shock in his soul. He was gasping for breath, his nostrils and mouth were opening and closing violently, and his eyes were staring blankly ahead.

"You will never understand love and friendship." His voice regained the upper hand.

The hatred in Harry's heart is completely different from that in Voldemort. His hatred comes from deep love, while Voldemort's hatred comes from inner dissatisfaction and fear.

This essential difference became the biggest gap between them, and a power that the Dark Lord would never know.

"You are the truly pitiful person, and I feel sorry for you." Harry whispered, his eyes revealing great determination.

He smashed the mirror in front of his soul with a punch, shattering Voldemort's snake face. In an instant, the warm sunlight penetrated the darkness and dispelled the coldness in his heart.

He turned over violently, and clouds of dark smoke gushed out of his chest. The smoke condensed into shape, and Voldemort's figure appeared in front of Harry out of thin air.

The strange thing is that the movements of other people around were frozen in the last second, as if time had frozen at this moment.

Harry looked up at the sky. His glasses were nowhere to be found and his unfocused pupils looked a little helpless.

Voldemort's voice rang in his ears, but he could not hear it clearly, as if there was a thick layer of frosted glass between the two.

Suddenly, there was a noise outside. Voldemort turned his head alertly, only to meet Roger's smiling eyes. Next to him stood a thin old wizard.

Roger raised his hand in a familiar manner, as if greeting an old friend he hadn't seen for many years: "Long time no see, Mr. Voldemort."

At the same time, Nicolas Flamel tapped his magic wand lightly, and an almost invisible ripple spread in the air. In an instant, the frozen time and space in the cemetery began to flow again.

(End of this chapter)