MTL - 94 Diagon Alley-Chapter 261 Festival

He touched his face and lost his glasses.

A sound came to his ears from the unformed nothingness around him: the tiny thumping sound of something constantly flapping, swinging, and struggling. The voice was pitiful, and at the same time made him feel very uncomfortable.

At this time, he wanted to wear clothes.

This idea was formed in my mind, and a robe appeared not far away. He took it and put it on: the robe was soft, clean, and warm. How peculiar, it just appeared like that, he just had the idea...

He stood up and looked around. Is he in a big room of requirements? The more he looked, the more he realized that there was so much to see. A huge round glass roof gleamed in the sunlight high above his head. Maybe it's a palace. There was silence all around, save for the strange thumping and whimpering from the nearby mist...

Harry turned slowly in place, and the surrounding scenery seemed to be transformed in front of his eyes. A large expanse of space, bright and clean, a hall much larger than the Great Hall, with that clear glass dome above. The hall was empty, he was alone, except—

He flinched. He saw the thing that made the sound. The thing was in the shape of a naked child, curled up on the ground, with rough red skin, looking like it had been peeled, lying shivering under a seat, discarded, and stuffed indiscriminately There, struggling to breathe.

Harry was scared. Although the thing was petite, weak, and wounded, he was reluctant to approach it. However, he still moved over a little bit, ready to withdraw at any time. Soon, he was close enough to touch it, but he didn't have the courage to do so. He felt like a coward. He should have consoled it, but the thing disgusted him.

"You can't help it."

Harry turned sharply, and Sirius Black was walking toward him, straight and brisk, dressed in a flowing and sophisticated dark blue robes. He was tall and handsome, much younger than when Harry had met him at fourteen. He walked slowly and easily, his hands in his pockets, a smile on his face.

"Harry." He opened his arms. "You wonderful boy. You brave, brave man. Let's go."

Sirius strode away from the red-skinned child lying there whimpering, and Harry followed dazedly. Sirius led the way to the two chairs, which were parted under the high, shiny roof that Harry had not noticed before. Sirius sat down in one chair and Harry in the other, staring blankly at his godfather's face. Black curly hair, handsome gray eyes, a careless sly smile: everything was as he remembered it, yet…

"But you're getting smaller," said Harry. "I mean, it's different after you fall into the veil."

"Yes." Sirius said lightly. "A part of my soul has stepped into the realm of death."

"So...I'm dead too?"

"Ha," the smile on Sirius' face became more pronounced, "that's a problem, isn't it? Overall, dear boy, I I don't think so."

The two looked at each other, his godfather still smiling, with a somewhat teasing expression.

"No?" Harry asked.

"No," he said.

"But..." Harry instinctively touched the lightning scar with his hand. The scar seems to be gone. "But I should be dead - I didn't resist! I was going to let Voldemort kill me!"

"I think that," said Sirius, "changed the whole thing. Dumbledore and I had a lot of fights about it. He shrugged. "Until he convinces me there is no other way to end this."

Then happiness radiated from Sirius like light and fire.

"Tell me more," said Harry.

"Actually you already know," said Sirius. He twirled his thumbs. "You're as smart and brave as James."

"I let Voldemort kill me," said Harry.

"Yes," Sirius nodded, "Go on!"

"Then that part of his soul in me..."

Sirius nodded his head more vigorously, and with an encouraging smile on his face, he urged Harry to continue.

“…it disappeared?”

"Yes!" said the dark-haired wizard, "yes, he ruined it. Your soul is whole, your own, haha profit."

"But..."

Harry turned his head to look at the injured little life trembling under the chair over there.

"What is that, Sirius?"

"It's something we can't do anything about." Sirius said with disgust, "I strongly advise you not to touch it."

"But if Voldemort used the Killing Curse," Harry asked again, "no one's going to die for me this time—how could I be alive? "

"I think you know," said Sirius. "Look back and think about what Voldemort did out of ignorance, greed, and cruelty."

Harry thought. He let his eyes scan the surrounding scenery. If the place where they were sitting was really a palace, it was also a strange palace, with some chairs all over the place and some railings erected. But apart from him, Sirius, and the little creature under the chair, there was no other creature. Then, effortlessly, the answer flocked to his lips with ease.

"He took my blood," said Harry.

"Exactly!" Sirius whistled, "He took your blood and used it to reshape his flesh! Your blood is in In his veins, Harry, Lily's spell lives in both of you! As long as he doesn't die, your life won't end!"

"As long as he lives...I live? But I thought...I thought...the other way around! I thought we both had to die, didn't I? Or? , is this actually the same thing?"

The painful life behind him kept whimpering and colliding, making Harry uneasy and turning his head to look again.

"Do you really think we can't do something?"

"It doesn't help." Sirius was a little indifferent, "I'm even trying to control myself not to step on it."

"Then...more on that," said Harry, his godfather smiling.

"Harry, you are the seventh Horcrux, made by him unintentionally. He made his own soul extremely unstable, and when he committed Those horrific crimes—murdering Lily and James, and trying to kill a child—split his soul. But he escaped from that house less than he knew. Not only did he leave the child's body, A part of himself is still attached to you, the boy who survived." Sirius said excitedly.

"Sadly, he never knew, Harry! Voldemort never took the time to understand what he didn't value. About fairy tales, about love, loyalty And innocence, Voldemort knows nothing, knows nothing. In fact, they all have a power greater than him, a power beyond any magic, but he has never grasped this fact." Sirius looked at Distant, "These are what Dumbledore told me, right after you came back from Little Hangleton in fourth grade. Of course, he also reminded me to face up to house-elves—I think I paid for it."

"Back to the point, when he took your blood, believing it made him strong. He took a small part of your mother who died for you The spell left behind. His body kept Lily's sacrificial talisman from dying, and as long as that spell lives on, you won't die, and Voldemort's last ray of hope for himself won't be gone."

Sirius smiled at Harry, who just stared blankly at him.

"Dumbledore knew it long ago? You always—have known?"

"He guessed. But Dumbledore's guesses are generally not that bad." Sirius looked away. "But I've always been against this plan, Harry. No matter how likely Dumbledore judged you not to be killed by him, it's an absolute danger to me. I won't allow you to suffer any harm." Then they sat in silence for what seemed to be a long time, the life behind them still whimpering and trembling.

"I don't know if I can ask you, Sirius. Maybe it's better to ask Dumbledore," said Harry, "like why my wand beats The wand that Voldemort borrowed?"

"You really should ask Dumbledore." Sirius showed a deflated expression for the first time.

"Then guess," said Harry, and Sirius laughed loudly.

"You have to understand, Harry, Voldemort is a coward, but at the same time he is extremely conceited. If he understood the terrible power of Lily's sacrificial amulet, maybe he would not Dare to touch your blood... But, if he can understand this, he can't be Voldemort, and he won't kill people." Sirius mocked. "Voldemort entwined your fates more tightly than any two wizards in history, and then he attacked you with a wand that had the same core as yours. So, we all know , something very strange happened. The two wand cores reacted beyond Voldemort's expectations, he had no idea that your core was twinned with his."

"He was more frightened than you that night, Harry. You have admitted, even embraced, the possibility of death, which Voldemort could never have done. . Your courage wins, your wand beats his. Meanwhile, something happens between the two wands