Flames flashed. Wizette returned to Ravenclaw Tower.
The copper ring beneath the eagle statue trembled and released a melodious question. "Shadow and light—which cannot exist without the other?"
Wizette spoke softly, smiled and answered. "Without light, shadow cannot be born."
"Beautifully answered." The ring acknowledged. Bronze door slowly opened.
"Tergeo!" Wizette entered the common room, each step extremely slow, gradually calming his current mood.
Maintaining the same state as usual helped face various duels—a small technique Flitwick had taught him.
According to Serpentsong Whistle feedback, Harry was still moving through pipes. Wizette still had time to adjust.
Outside the window appeared faint roars, then thundering footsteps. These sounds rapidly intensified and gradually converged into incredibly noisy rumbling.
Wizette walked to the window. The Forest edge had a magical layer—surroundings looked brighter than usual.
Trees at the Forest edge began shaking and made violent friction sounds. Friction quickly became breaking sounds, accompanied by various creature roars, like a wild rock concert.
Wolf packs, bear groups, and boar herds first charged from the Forest. Grass ruthlessly trampled, quickly rose as dust clouds.
Large shadows suddenly appeared in the dust. Devil's Snare roots emerged from underground, launched extremely swift entanglement, and intercepted charging beast groups.
These ordinary animals stopped—various magical creatures also burst through dust.
Inferi, Grindylows, Kneazles, Fwoopers, Red Caps, man-eating trolls, forest trolls, river trolls, Acromantulas, Hippogriffs...
Using the Forest's biodiversity, driving Acromantulas to cause chaos, thereby plunging Hogwarts into disorder...
Just as Dumbledore said, as Wizette finally concluded—Tom Riddle excelled at conspiracies, knew how to frame others, knew how to set traps...
But unfortunately, Dumbledore saw through this, foresaw what Tom Riddle might do, and made full preparations.
Those suddenly erupting magical plants—McGonagall controlling armor and statues—Flitwick maintaining magical barriers—plus students on the lawn—best proof.
After such arrangements, perhaps this massive chaos would evolve into rich practical lessons to broaden students' horizons and accumulate experience.
Wizette raised his hand. Phoenix mark became vivid. Like a flash of inspiration, he looked toward one corner of the lawn—there stood a white-haired old man plus a phoenix spreading wings.
Wizette clenched his fist. "I should move too."
Through Serpentsong Whistle, he sensed Harry finally stopped moving, staying in the Chamber hall.
Harry woke from unconsciousness and looked around bewildered.
This was a spacious dim hall. Through surrounding green haze, he vaguely saw distant firelight plus an approaching figure.
"Sss..." He cried out in pain. Scar transmitted burning sensations.
He'd experienced this feeling once last year.
"What's wrong?" A gentle voice sounded.
Harry looked toward the sound, then glasses were placed on him.
Before him appeared a young man who looked very tall, surrounded by a hazy glow, seemed somewhat illusory.
"Who are you?" He asked warily. "Where is this? Why am I tied up?"
He looked into the distance, saw the cloth-wrapped person, and suddenly realized. "Lockhart! You framed Headmaster Dumbledore!"
Tom Riddle smiled slightly, tone full of mockery. "How unfair... Why does Dumbledore always discriminate?"
"Seems besides always guarding against me... He's good to everyone else... What are you like? A good baby just waking up..."
Harry felt his mind much more active. Facing this familiar scene, he suddenly thought of someone. "Guarding... You're Voldemort!"
"Mm... Not bad. A clever good baby." Tom Riddle nodded. "To realize this... Already exceeded my expectations."
"But I still don't understand..." He bent down, brushed aside Harry's forehead bangs, and slender fingers explored the scar. "It shouldn't be..."
Harry instinctively wanted to avoid but was still touched on the scar. He thought burning would intensify but unexpectedly—only bone-chilling sensation, like an ice cube sliding across the scar.
Tom Riddle said puzzled. "A not-so-special baby who only paid the price of one scar..."
"Actually defeated the greatest wizard in history... How was my future self destroyed? Why so pathetic?"
Harry gritted his teeth and growled. "Your future self? What are you..."
He struggled to move his arm and tried finding his wand in his pocket.
"You're quite rude!" Tom Riddle raised a wand. "Are you looking for this?"
"That's my wand!" Harry used all his strength and lunged forward violently.
"Gryffindor... Just like this... Should I say you're admirably brave?" Tom Riddle stepped back two steps.
His face wore mockery. "Or should I say you're reckless... Too reckless... Which do you think is better?"
Harry missed and fell to ground but eyes became more resolute. "What are you planning?"
"Let me think..." Tom Riddle spoke softly and while helping Harry up, said. "Probably replace my future self and put everything back on track?"
"At least I won't be like him—actually defeated by a baby... Like now, you want to get up and even need my help."
Harry bit his teeth and fell to the other side.
This was his final defiance and resistance. Even without wand, even bound—whether Voldemort or Tom Riddle, he didn't want either to succeed.
"I seem to understand... What Dumbledore was thinking!" Tom Riddle's expression became stern. "Then continue your futile resistance!"
"Everything will end soon!" He turned toward the cauldron. "Lockhart, how much longer?"
"Already done." Lockhart responded and first tossed unicorn blood into the cauldron. "Pure mother-child blood, freely extracted, can rebirth the soul..."
The moment he spoke the incantation, Harry suddenly wailed. He felt his head splitting in two, scar drilling with pain.
The instant unicorn blood merged into the cauldron, it immediately boiled and liquid inside became crimson, like lava shooting sparks...
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