Hogwarts doesn't need a savior

Voldemort suddenly thought that this was not a bad idea.

But the increasingly chaotic consciousness suddenly had a flash of inspiration, and this was not the so-called sight at all.

This is magic!

Not Fiendfyre, but magic of destruction and purification.

A calm and leisurely voice sounded in his ears, like a thunderclap, piercing through the last bit of defense in his heart.

"Do you think you can drag my brother to be buried with you?"

The magic melted away silently like the remaining snow under the warm sun. The light golden magic barrier flashing with electric current was like a freshly cooked egg, wrapping up Voldemort and his final counterattack.

The magic power was fading, and the soul was becoming silent. Voldemort collapsed on the spot, his soul shaking violently. He looked up at Lynn and Dumbledore who seemed to have appeared out of thin air.

One is as young as myself who just graduated, and the other is as old as if he is about to be buried.

As for Grindelwald and the hateful traitor in the distance, he no longer had the energy to observe them.

"You two won't always be able to stand together." He used a mocking tone to hide his unwillingness, "Dumbledore, sooner or later you will die in his hands, just like me today, in such a miserable and miserable state."

"At least now we have the same goal." Dumbledore said calmly, "You can't see my future, but I can see your destination, Tom."

"My...end?"

Voldemort's soul had begun to disintegrate, and countless wronged souls that had been forcibly fused into his body by Bellatrix's magic fled.

There was also the afterimage of a soul that was extremely dark and even more evil than his own.

Voldemort himself didn't know whether he should gloat over other people's misfortunes or feel sorry for himself, but he suddenly understood a lot of things.

"You have indeed seen my end, but I will soon see yours as well... We will meet soon."

The pale face was severely distorted, but one could still see the sarcastic smile and the cruelty in those blood-red eyes.

Batty's eyes changed, and he quickly changed back to human form, leaning close to Lynn's ear and whispering.

Lin En's relaxed brows furrowed again.

"Riddle, did you also encounter something strange when you killed that octopus?" he asked directly.

"Heh... who knows? Even if I knew, why would I tell you, my enemies?"

"Because if you don't tell me, it will be hard for you to die." Grindelwald raised his right hand, and a small flame ignited. "I can do more than just kill people. It won't be difficult for me to plunder your soul."

“Do you think I’m afraid of these?” Voldemort laughed contemptuously. “I know who you are. Grindelwald, you are just a loser from the last era. I didn’t expect that you have become their watchdog.”

Grindelwald remained calm: "I did fail, but someone will continue and iterate my ideals, and you will only become the dust of history along with your unrealistic fantasies, and no one will remember you."

"..."

Voldemort was silent.

To be exact, his defense was broken.

He lost everything that night, not only his life, but also all he believed in.

Even death itself becomes ridiculous - because of the monster lurking deep in the soul.

He knew what the other party was going to do, and he also knew what else he could do.

He stared closely at the old man who brought him from the orphanage into the magical society. It was the first time he looked into the eyes of his teacher like this since he learned the magic of Legilimency.

"Dumbledore, you are also a loser, a complete loser. You failed to stop anything and you failed to accomplish anything. You are more pathetic than me."

"I am indeed pathetic." Dumbledore was not angered by his words, but looked at Voldemort with a gentle and compassionate look. "The saddest thing for me, besides Ariana's death, is to let you go to this point."

"Hypocrisy!" Voldemort shouted. "Who do you think you are?!"

"Of course it's not all my fault that you are what you are today, but I do have a major responsibility that cannot be shirked."

Dumbledore turned his head and looked at Grindelwald. "As the one who introduced you to the magical world, I think I have more important things to do during the most important years of your growth." He turned his gaze to Lynn again. "And I have too many expectations and goodwill towards human nature, which has allowed evil to grow and proliferate under the seemingly peaceful surface."

Finally, his gaze returned to Voldemort.

"I won't make the same mistake again, Tom. But I won't torture you either. You are my student after all."

Dumbledore raised the Elder Wand in front of him, closed his eyes, and was about to cast a spell when he felt resistance from the shaft of the Elder Wand.

"I promised Salazar that it would be better for me to take action at this time." Lynn said, "Besides, he and I still have some personal grudges. Even if he has a backup plan, it should be me who handles it."

The crown and the golden cup have become dim, but the magic book is still shining.

The reddish light illuminated the night sky, contrasting with the pale white of the distant skyline.

"……Ah!"

Voldemort's hazy face made it impossible to identify his facial features, leaving only a pair of flickering red eyes.

He looked at Lynn and the hawthorn wand in his hand, regret and relief mixed in his eyes.

"I'm a wizard too."

Voldemort's voice became very calm, without any anger or hatred, or even any displeasure, in it.

After saying this, he stopped talking and looked at Lin En leisurely.

After more than ten years of fighting openly and secretly, he has lost everything and only has this last chance.

His soul was being destroyed every moment, and it was irreversible.

It is for this reason that, in this final game, time is on his side.

Lin En was silent for a moment, and finally took the initiative to speak: "The problem is with the monster you are leaning over. It is not completely dead. Is that right or wrong?"

“Yes, and no.” Voldemort smiled with satisfaction, and his soul condensed into a human form again. “How can something that has never really lived talk about being completely dead? I will let you see this bizarre fool.”

The boiling soul and magic power completely solidified at this moment, and time and space seemed to be frozen for a moment.

Under the gaze of Lin En and the other three, a tiny black shadow was forcibly "pulled" out from the briefly solidified soul.

It was an octopus that had been shrunk countless times, but its appearance was no different from the dead false god Baal.

Sensing this sudden change, it began to struggle violently, shattering Voldemort's remaining soul into pieces.

"…Why are you waiting for this if you don't control it quickly?"

The last burst of energy just now seemed to have exhausted Voldemort's energy. Before he could finish his words, his soul, which had been barely condensed, completely collapsed.

Dumbledore raised the Elder Wand again and waved it gently. The struggling shadow froze in place and was put into a jewel-inlaid wooden box amidst a silent scream.

"Tom Riddle, although you are an incorrigible scum and villain, you are at least still a wizard." Lynn said softly, "For the sake of Salazar Slytherin, I will give you a death worthy of your status."

"All curses come to an end."

The deep red light dispelled all the layers of magic, and Voldemort's soul was completely exposed to the sunlight.

Without its carrier, it began to burst and disintegrate.

Rowena and Helga also appeared in the morning light, witnessing the end of another bloodline of their old friend.

"Just use the magic you are best at."

Lynn raised her wand and pointed it directly at Voldemort.

"Avada Kedavra."

The hawthorn wand flashed an emerald green light and hit him squarely.

There was no struggle and resistance when the Horcrux was destroyed, nor was there the earth-shattering death of the devil in fairy tales. The dark wizard who had wreaked havoc in the British Isles for decades and became the nightmare of countless people met with destruction.

He was like a puff of smoke slowly dissipating towards the end of his life, in the manner of a wizard.

Meanwhile, in the distance, at Hogwarts Castle.

Harry, who had tossed and turned for most of the night before falling asleep, woke up from his dream and covered the scar on his forehead.

He vaguely felt that he had lost something, but as a result he gained unprecedented ease and peace.

Chapter 555: Secret Conversation at 10 Downing Street (Part )

Voldemort was dead, and he couldn't be more dead.

The Dark Marks that only appeared on the arms of the most core Death Eaters disappeared overnight.

There was no trace of the curse that had lingered on Hogwarts Castle for decades.

The smoke of gunpowder that has not yet dissipated in London and Paris tells of the suddenness and cruelty of the war, but this is only for a few people.

In the eyes of the silent majority, they just took a nap. The devil who was suddenly announced to have returned not long ago was reduced to ashes overnight, along with his unidentified followers, returned to dust.

Compared with the previous long war that lasted for more than ten years, this memory is really too insignificant.

In the words of Rita Skeeter, newspaper sales are not even half of what they were thirteen years ago.

But no one thought this was a bad thing - on the contrary, the name of "Voldemort" appeared in the streets of the wizarding world in a vengeful way, and they were no longer afraid of this name.

The title "The One Who Must Not Be Named" has completely become history.

There were crowds of people paying respects to many tombstones.

A lone figure also appeared outside the ruins of Godric's Hollow to pay tribute.

Where some are rejoicing, others will be nostalgic, but no matter what the mood is, people will believe that an era has finally ended.

Except for a very few insiders.

-----------------

London, 10 Downing Street.

In the evening, the Prime Minister, after a busy day, sat alone in his office with a one-page memo at his side.

There isn't much on it, but it's a huge reading challenge for the restless Prime Minister.

He gave up quickly.

He casually threw an effervescent tablet into the cup of water, then lay on the table, looking at the rising bubbles, and his irritable mood eased a little.

He forgot for a moment the trouble outside London, the parliamentary inquiry, and his gloating over the French.

At this moment, a voice came from the wall above his eyelids, the voice was clear and the speed was fast.

"To the Muggle Prime Minister. Minister Amelia Bones has requested a meeting at an agreed time. Please respond immediately. Office of the Minister of Magic."

He knew where the sound came from, it was from the oil painting that had been hanging there for who knows how many years, the creation on "the other side".

He was somewhat resistant, but he also knew he couldn't refuse, so he said vaguely, "I understand."

"Please reply immediately and inform Her Majesty the Queen." The man in the painting said without hesitation, "Time is running out."

"...Okay, I get it." The Prime Minister pressed a hidden bell under the desk. "She will know soon. Now you can ask Ms. Bones to come over."

He straightened up, took a sip of water, and adjusted his clothes to make himself look less tired and anxious.

Soon, he saw bright green flames suddenly bursting out of the empty marble fireplace - this was not the first time he had witnessed it, but it still surprised and frightened him.

People are always afraid of unknown and incomprehensible things. This is instinctive and has nothing to do with courage and experience.

The Prime Minister tried hard to conceal his emotions.

The tall witch appeared in the flames, then walked onto the antique and valuable carpet, gently brushing the ashes off her hat and clothes.

He knew this witch - the one who succeeded the previous Minister of Magic, who looked serious, but not as domineering as her short and stocky predecessor, at least not when they first met not long ago, and was very patient.

"Hello, Bo-!"

"bang"

He was about to stand up and say hello, but was surprised to find that there was more than one person coming this time.

The previous round of flames had just gone out, and the second round followed.

A well-dressed wizard came out. He looked very young, but a little listless and sickly.

This was someone he didn't know.

Thinking of the button he pressed for the first time to inform the Queen, an idea suddenly occurred to him:

Something happened again?

"Hello, Mr. Prime Minister, excuse me for bothering you." Amelia's expression was serious, with faint shadows around her eyes.

The observant Prime Minister realized that the other party had not had enough rest like himself.