"Anyway, we have to get out of here... let's go."
Harry hoisted Hermione onto his back and pulled Neville's arm.
Luna dragged Cedric while Ginny hopped along behind.
But with terrible timing, several more Death Eaters came running toward them, and Harry instinctively dove through the nearest door.
Which room was this? Was it finally the exit?
Looking around with that hope, Harry realized he'd drawn another dud.
No, worse than that—this was the worst possible outcome.
This was—of all places—the Arch room!
"Alohomora!"
While he hesitated, the door was breached again and Death Eaters poured in.
Luna tried frantically to close the door, but a red flash struck her chest and sent her flying.
Crashing into the ground, Luna stopped moving just like Hermione, pushing Harry even further into a corner.
Five Death Eaters entered... but now only Harry could fight them.
Harry desperately fought back with Body-Bind curses, using nearby objects as shields, but couldn't land hits.
Harry was definitely being cornered—defeat was imminent.
"This is the end, Potter."
Lucius Malfoy spoke in an affected voice and removed his mask.
No one remained to protect Harry.
Smirking with certain victory, Lucius addressed Harry:
"Now then, the Dark Lord awaits. Don't worry, we won't kill you... not until after we obtain the prophecy."
Lucius approached slowly, like a predator toying with prey.
No escape... was this the end?
Steeling himself, Harry gripped his wand tightly.
But luck hadn't abandoned him yet—Sirius, Kingsley, and Lupin burst through the door.
They scattered Death Eaters one after another, rushing to Harry's side.
"Come on, Harry! Take everyone and run!"
Harry's face brightened at the reliable reinforcements.
But the tables wouldn't turn so easily—that was the terror of Death Eaters.
More Death Eaters followed Sirius's group inside, lining up before Lucius.
Among them was that witch called Bellatrix.
"Will you fight me for precious little Potter? You disgrace to pure-bloods!"
"No need to ask. I'll be the one to finish you, Bellatrix!"
Light flashed from both Sirius and Bellatrix's wands as they cast magic with intent to defeat each other.
This was combat to kill—completely unlike normal dueling.
Bellatrix's curses assailed Sirius while his magic grazed her cheek.
"Come on! Try to aim better this time!"
Sirius taunted Bellatrix while dodging her spells, but sweat gleamed on his forehead.
He had no real advantage. His face formed a smile, but it was mere vanity.
Yet he was drawing her attention so the witch's fangs wouldn't turn toward Harry and his friends.
But this worsened the situation once again.
A red flash from Bellatrix's wand finally struck Sirius square in the chest, sending him flying.
His blown-back body arced through the air, drawn toward that ancient, terrible Arch.
He couldn't go in there! Harry thought, but couldn't reach.
And just as his godfather was about to pass through the Arch with a face mixing fear and surprise—
"I won't let you!"
"Just in time, I'd say."
—Edith and Mirabel Apparated, grabbing Sirius and leaping away from the Arch.
"Edith! Mirabel!"
Harry cried out joyfully as the two girls landed before him and set Sirius down.
He was damaged enough to barely move, but safe. Alive.
And better still, Dumbledore—their most reliable ally—arrived on Harry's side.
Dumbledore and Mirabel... the most powerful formation Harry could imagine.
Those two now stood shoulder to shoulder, facing the Death Eaters.
"You came as well, Headmaster Dumbledore."
"Ho ho, as did you."
As the two conversed without looking at each other, two Death Eaters aimed their wands.
Rodolphus and Rabastan... Bellatrix's husband and his brother.
But by the time they aimed, the counterattack was already finished.
Mirabel and Dumbledore drew their wands at invisible speed, fired spells, and slammed them into the wall.
"I wish you'd come faster. Then I wouldn't have had to bring Edith back to this battlefield."
"..."
Dumbledore looked down at the irritable Mirabel as if viewing something heartwarming.
It was like a grandfather rejoicing in his grandchild's growth—a gaze full of affection.
"...What?"
"Mirabel... I am pleased."
"Huh?"
"Do you remember? Three years ago, I told you 'friends are treasures beyond compare.' But you responded with 'mind your own business.'"
Dumbledore was talking about Mirabel and Edith's falling out in second year.
Back then, Mirabel hadn't valued friends and took the stance of discarding those who couldn't keep up.
She'd been a cold young devil.
But the Mirabel here was different.
She valued friends, protected them, and stood on this battlefield for her sake.
Dumbledore couldn't be happier about this growth.
"Let us fight together, Mirabel... for the future of the wizarding world."
"I don't care about the wizarding world... but I'll lend my hand for a future where my friend lives happily."
"Ho ho ho, I see, I see. How delightful."
Mirabel smiled gently, Dumbledore laughed cheerfully.
Then their expressions transformed into those of hunters exterminating enemies, sharply piercing the foes before them.
"Let's go!!"
Mirabel swung her wand!
Dumbledore flourished his wand!
Golden lightning burst forth, and countless red flashes brightly illuminated the Department of Mysteries.
Beating attacking Death Eaters with her vampiric wand, while Dumbledore shot down Lucius Malfoy aiming at Mirabel's back.
Golden statues animated by Dumbledore's magic restrained Death Eaters one after another, and Mirabel's lightning pierced through Rookwood targeting his back.
It was truly one perfected dance.
Beautifully executed wandwork released countless vivid flashes.
Striking enemies, blocking enemy attacks, and covering each other's openings.
A duet impossible for ordinary people, only achievable because both were supreme-level wizard and witch.
Finally, they whirled around and fired magic at Harry and Edith.
No, correction—it wasn't aimed at them.
It targeted the Death Eater Mulciber, who'd been aiming his wand at them.
Hit by two spells simultaneously, Mulciber rolled across the floor and stopped moving.
"...A-amazing..."
"Y-yeah..."
Edith and Harry stood gaping, mesmerized by the performance.
Just two people's magic unilaterally routed over ten Death Eaters.
Ancient sage and young genius of the new generation—the two generations' power dancing like clearing dark clouds from the era gave more hope than ever before.
And when they noticed, only Bellatrix Lestrange remained.
Defeat her, capture everyone, and it would be over.
Dumbledore and Mirabel charged side by side, closing the distance with Bellatrix.
"No, stay back!"
Bellatrix fired a green flash in apparent fear, but Dumbledore's animated golden statue blocked it.
And seizing that opening, Mirabel's lightning seared Bellatrix's arm and knocked her wand away.
Checkmate—game over.
They raised their wands to bring down Bellatrix!
"Get her!"
Harry shouted.
They could win! Bellatrix had no weapon or allies left to protect her!
They'd be freed from this Department of Mysteries nightmare!
"...We can win!"
Edith was also certain of victory.
Her anxiety had been needless worry.
No, she'd had no reason to come along in the first place.
Those two could smash through any obstacle.
—We've won.
Everyone was certain.
But events moved further from there.
The moment they struck the finishing blow on Bellatrix, Mirabel spotted 'it' in her peripheral vision.
It was a man appearing there by Apparition.
The moment the man aimed his wand at Harry... and at Edith nearby.
Belatedly, Dumbledore noticed.
"—!"
"Oh no..."
Mirabel and Dumbledore saw a pale-faced man releasing magic from his wand with a triumphant expression.
Eerily glowing red eyes, slit-like nostrils, a mouth torn to the ears.
Unmistakably, this was the Dark Lord Voldemort.
They screamed internally: Of all times, he'd target Harry now!
No, precisely because of this timing!
"—!"
In this moment where one second determined everything, Mirabel moved first.
Using short-range Disapparition, she leaped in front of Harry and Edith.
No time for defensive spells!
But at this rate, it would pierce through her body and kill Edith behind!
Instantaneous thought.
The answer Mirabel reached was to use her own body as a shield.
Pure magical power, not even a nonverbal spell. She wrapped it around her body, spread both arms, and resolved to receive all the destruction. And then—
The flash exploded.
"...Mm."
When the vision-searing light ended, Edith slowly opened her eyes.
What happened?
Was she still alive? No, why was she alive?
Seeking answers to those questions, she raised her face.
And she saw. She saw something she wished she hadn't.
"...Ah."
A voice dyed in despair leaked from her lips.
She couldn't believe what lay before her. Didn't want to believe.
"Ah, ahhh, ah..."
What stood before her, protecting them, was her friend's back.
Hair that had always been beautifully golden was now soot-covered, clothes burned, skin terribly scorched and torn.
And Mirabel's back, dyed in blood enough to make one want to cover their eyes.
"No... this is a lie..."
Through tear-distorted vision, Mirabel's body slowly tilted.
Like slow motion, she weakly collapsed to the ground and didn't move a single finger.
"Nooooo!! No! No, no! Mirabel! Hang on, Mirabel!!"
Screaming frantically, Edith held Mirabel.
But she was appalled at how lifeless that body felt.
The body devoid of vitality made her sense that no healing magic could save her now.
She tried to speak but only red blood spilled vainly forth.
Watching this, Harry's face turned ashen, and Dumbledore's eyes gleamed with fury and grief.
In contrast, Bellatrix cackled with laughter.
"Ha, hahahahaha! Magnificent, absolutely magnificent, my lord! She's dead, she's dead! The hateful Beresford brat is dead! Oh, she's not dead yet? She's dying now!? Ahahahahahaha! Ahhhahahahaha!!"
Bellatrix's insane laughter of genuine joy didn't even register in Edith's ears.
Her mind was blank, her throat terribly dry.
She couldn't believe the scene before her was real. Her brain refused to accept it and throbbed painfully.
Mirabel moved her mouth weakly like a dying insect, trying to say something.
It was so faint, she'd miss it without concentration.
"...E...dith... are you... hurt?"
"N-no! No! Because... Mirabel protected me...!"
"I see... thank... goodness..."
"It'll be okay... it'll be okay, so don't talk anymore!"
"...No, I'm... beyond... saving... so I must... say this... at the end..."
Painfully, breathing shallowly, Mirabel wouldn't stop talking.
She weakly gripped Edith's hand and squeezed out words:
"I'm not... her... not Lady Mirabel..."
"What?"
Edith's mind went blank for a moment.
Mirabel wasn't Mirabel? What did that mean?
But thinking back, this past year she'd been like a different person.
"This body is... an imitation created by her. I was transferred... as just a soul, ordered to spend time at school... as her double. I'm... sorry... this whole year... I deceived you..."
"—! You don't need to apologize for that! Being fake doesn't matter! You're... my... precious friend!"
Mirabel—no, the girl in Mirabel's form—smiled gently.
As if just hearing those words left no regrets.
With a kind face the real one would never make, she stroked Edith's cheek.
"Thank... you... I also... came to treasure... you... before I knew it. This year... with you... was truly... truly... wonderful..."
Smiling, tears overflowing, the double girl spoke words of gratitude.
Because this was the end.
Because this was her final selfishness... so please, master.
Just now, permit her to abandon her role as double and be her true self.
"Thank you... I love you, Edith... my one... and only... friend."
"—...Mirabel?"
Edith called out to her friend, who'd stopped moving while still smiling.
But the girl didn't move.
No matter how she called, how she shook her, not a single finger moved.
"H-hey... you're joking, right? It's a lie... right?"
She shook, shook, shook.
Over and over, unable to accept reality, she shook.
It was a lie—she was just sleeping.
Like a broken machine, she shook over and over and over—until Lupin stopped her hands.
"Stop, Edith... she's gone. She'll never... come back..."
Tears overflowed from Edith's eyes.
Endlessly spilling transparent drops ran down her cheeks and fell upon the deceased girl.
But the girl no longer moved. Wouldn't speak, wouldn't smile.
Edith Reinagel had just lost her best friend.
"——!!"
Edith screamed soundlessly.
She'd tried to call her name.
But couldn't. Of course she couldn't.
Because Edith didn't know her name.
"Ahahahaha! Dead, dead! The impudent brat is dead! Don't be sad—I'll send you to the same place soon!"
Face twisted in ecstasy, Bellatrix picked up her wand.
And aimed it at the grief-paralyzed Edith to finish her off.
No need to grieve. She'd send her to the same place immediately.
They could get along as much as they wanted on the other side.
But here, she noticed something strange.
Wrong... no wand.
No, not just the wand—from the elbow... down was... gone.
"—Yes, I'll send you immediately. To a place befitting you."
A voice echoed.
Quiet, elegant.
A familiar girl's voice.
In the voice of "Mirabel, who'd just fallen here"!
Everyone's eyes turned toward the voice's source.
And they saw it. The figure of something behind Bellatrix.
An arm dyed in blood, protruding from Bellatrix's chest!
"...Huh?"
"Nice to meet you, Lestrange... and goodbye."
Behind the uncomprehending Bellatrix, the voice's owner spoke.
It was a small shadow wrapped in crimson robes.
From the robe's edge peeked golden hair, with fangs growing from the mouth.
"Die."
She withdrew her arm from Bellatrix, then slashed the witch's neck with her other hand!
In that instant, the black-haired witch lost everything above her neck and collapsed like a puppet with cut strings.
An utterly gruesome sight.
And the person who created that sight leisurely removed her robes before Harry and the others' watching eyes.
"Well now... what a nostalgic gathering of faces. I'm relieved you all seem well."
First noticeable was hair like spun golden thread, shining brilliantly.
Golden eyes holding a mysterious gleam that seemed to see through everything.
Skin white and translucent.
Features too perfect—and overwhelming charm and presence that captivated others like a curse, never letting go.
"It's been so long... and you've all changed remarkably. There's a Japanese saying: 'If you haven't seen someone for three days, look at them with fresh eyes'—indeed, to change this much in just one year."
It was the same appearance as a year ago.
Unlike the fallen Mirabel here, truly the exact same appearance as a year ago.
Unmistakably, this was the master and original of the girl who'd just fallen—Mirabel Beresford herself.
***
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