Watching the black smoke slowly dissipate into the crimson-tinged air above the ruins, carried away on winds that seemed to mourn its passing, Voldemort felt a fury so intense it tried to literally tear him apart from the inside out.
A Horcrux!
Nothing in all the world could possibly be more precious than this treasure he had just lost. It was the key to his conquest of death, his path to immortality, the foundation of his invincibility!
Each Horcrux he created had cost him dearly. And now one was simply... gone. Burned to nothing by Watson's flames.
Yet despite the absolute rage boiling inside him like lava, Voldemort merely stared coldly at Watson across the distance separating them. Watson's slightly furrowed brow indicated puzzlement and incomprehension, not triumph or knowing satisfaction.
Voldemort did not dare reveal any rage that exceeded what would be reasonable under the circumstances.
'Does Bryan Watson actually know about Horcruxes?'
The thought flashed through Voldemort's mind, only to immediately dismiss the possibility.
'Impossible! Absolutely impossible!'
Bryan Watson couldn't possibly know about Horcruxes and their true nature. Otherwise, he would never have spouted that foolish, idealistic drivel earlier about how all things must inevitably decay, how death was natural and unconquerable, and how no one—not even the most powerful wizard could be an exception to mortality's final rule.
If Watson knew that Lord Voldemort had conquered death, had made himself immortal through Horcrux creation, those words would have been meaningless hypocrisy.
Moreover, and perhaps if Bryan Watson actually knew about Horcruxes and understood their power, he surely couldn't possibly resist the overwhelming temptation of true immortality. What wizard could?
He would have tried to create a Horcrux himself by now—someone with Watson's power and ambition wouldn't hesitate. And if he had created one, if he understood the magic involved, he should have immediately recognized another wizard's Horcrux when he saw it, rather than appearing so confused and uncertain about what had just occurred.
Only Albus Dumbledore—that ridiculous, sanctimonious relic who had lived for over a century, spent decades moldering away at Hogwarts, and fancied himself a paragon of morality and righteousness might have even a one-in-ten-thousand chance of knowing about such magnificent magic and still stubbornly regarding it as an evil creation to be avoided at all costs!
At least—
Watching his most precious Horcrux destroyed before his very eyes, at close range where he could do nothing to prevent it, feel the exact moment the soul fragment died screaming...
The combined psychological and magical pain this inflicted on Voldemort was second only to what he had suffered fourteen years ago, on that terrible Halloween night when he had been struck by his own Killing Curse rebounded by the infant Harry Potter—that indescribable agony of having everything stripped away from him in a single instant, of being reduced from the most powerful wizard alive to less than a ghost.
The combined assault on both body and soul, the physical pain mixing with the psychological trauma caused Voldemort's left eye to twitch despite his control.
He immediately realized one critical thing.
'I cannot stay entangled here any longer!'
His Horcrux which he had hidden in Bellatrix's vault beneath Gringotts, had been destroyed by Watson's Fiendfyre through what appeared to be unfortunate accident.
There was no point in remaining here on this battlefield any longer. The objective that had drawn Voldemort to reveal himself was now impossible.
And if Dumbledore who was currently stationed at the Ministry of Magic just a short distance away, suddenly arrived here now, combined with Bryan Watson who clearly still had strength and magical reserves to spare—
Voldemort's gaze turned sinister as he faced Watson across the scorched earth.
He didn't want to admit it but had to admit it nonetheless to himself.
Facing these two powerful wizards simultaneously, fighting both Dumbledore and Watson at once would indeed be quite taxing for him.
However—
Voldemort's crimson serpentine pupils flickered with calculating malice, his gaze drifted momentarily toward the fields beyond the ruins where small figures stood watching.
While Voldemort carefully weighed his options, running through scenarios and possibilities; Bryan who was externally maintaining an expression of suppressed confusion wore a completely different face internally.
'Will Voldemort notice something amiss?'
Bryan felt an unusual nervousness coiling in his stomach.
Last year, when he and Dumbledore had worked together to destroy that locket Horcrux in the cave, the two of them had spent considerable time discussing whether Voldemort might have entrusted his other Horcruxes to Death Eaters who were fanatically loyal to him, aside from the diary and the locket they'd already dealt with.
If so, to whom specifically would he give such precious objects, and where exactly would these trusted Death Eaters place the Horcruxes that Voldemort had personally entrusted to them for safekeeping?
Gringotts, universally known as the most reliable and secure place in Britain for safeguarding precious possessions had immediately drawn Bryan's suspicion as a probable hiding place.
That was precisely why, after Voldemort's resurrection in that graveyard, even though Bryan had known with certainty that the mass breakout from Azkaban was inevitable and could have taken steps to prevent it, he had maintained his silence and made no attempt to intervene or warn the Ministry.
Bryan had needed a legitimate unquestionable excuse to forcibly open the vaults belonging to the Death Eaters imprisoned in Azkaban, to search through their possessions and see if any of them contained Voldemort's hidden Horcruxes!
On the very day he had publicly announced this punishment to the seizure of Death Eater assets, Harry's scar pain and the disturbing visions Harry had witnessed and reported confirmed for Bryan that there was indeed a Horcrux somewhere in the depths of Gringotts.
Two or three days ago, when Lucius Malfoy and a group of Death Eaters, along with a cunningly disguised Bellatrix Lestrange had attempted their infiltration, their desperate actions had allowed Bryan to pinpoint the exact location of that Horcrux.
Still, even then, Bryan had shown tremendous restraint by not immediately opening Bellatrix's vault to seize the cup despite knowing it was there and within his grasp.
He had to make it all look like a genuine, unfortunate accident of war!
If Voldemort realized even for a moment that Bryan's destruction of the Horcrux in the vault was calculated and intentional, things would become extremely complicated and dangerous.
'Will Voldemort suspect the truth?'
When Bryan had first suggested to Amelia that they strategically use Gringotts' underground vaults to constrain and manipulate the escaped Death Eaters, Dumbledore had immediately grasped his true underlying purpose.
"I don't believe he'll suspect you, Bryan—"
During their private discussion of the plan's feasibility, after significant thought and consideration, Dumbledore had looked at Bryan with cautious, serious eyes.
"Or rather, Tom might harbor a sliver of doubt deep down in some corner of his mind. But he will ultimately convince himself that the very notion of you scheming against his Horcruxes is laughable and impossible."
Looking at Bryan, who was listening intently to his assessment with attention, Dumbledore continued speaking in a solemn tone:
"When you destroy that Horcrux, Bryan, you need to perform absolutely flawlessly—You cannot let Tom see even a hint that your magic was aimed specifically at his Horcrux rather than being a random effect of battle. You know what serious consequences it would bring if your true purpose were exposed to him."
Bryan nodded firmly, then leaned back into the sofa with a light exhale of understanding.
"Don't worry, Headmaster Dumbledore. I'm quite good at acting."
A single thought, a single moment of suspicion on Voldemort's part, could lead to two completely different outcomes!
If Voldemort showed any clear sign of having seen through the deception—
Bryan's heart turned cold at the thought—Dumbledore would immediately appear here and the two of them would work together to trap Voldemort first, no matter the cost!
Gazing intently into Bryan Watson's eyes across the scorched battlefield, searching for any tell or hint of deception, Voldemort perceived the faint tension beneath the surface confusion visible in those brown pupils.
This small sign pleased him greatly, easing his suspicions.
"It seems your heart is not as confident as you appear, Watson—"
A cold, superior smile curved Voldemort's thin lips.
"Since you've clearly realized you cannot possibly defeat me, then I'm willing to give you one final chance to reconsider, as long as you're willing to submit—"
"If I must submit to anything, Riddle—"
Bryan's form of address made Voldemort's expression darken once more.
"I will only ever submit to my own heart."
Bryan responded solemnly, though inwardly he breathed a heavy sigh of relief.
'It worked!!'
Voldemort hadn't suspected even for a moment that the destruction of his Horcrux was the result of careful conspiracy and calculation rather than the random chaos of battle!
"How disappointing—"
Voldemort's black robes rustled ominously in the wind that whipped around them both. His eyes, devoid of any warmth or human feeling stared grimly at Bryan with the flat gaze of a serpent.
"I genuinely thought you might be somewhat more astute and practical than those other fools who oppose me. But if that's truly the case, then—"
As his tone rose with building menace, Voldemort slowly raised his wand-bearing arm in a threatening gesture.
BANG!
The very next second, Voldemort vanished absolutely abruptly from Bryan's sight.
In that single instant of Voldemort's disappearance, many different thoughts flashed through Bryan's mind at incredible speed, finally settling on the most likely target.
'Harry!!'
Bryan turned around instantly, his sharp gaze were locking onto Sirius and the others in the fields far beyond the ruins, where they appeared as mere dots in the distance!
Bryan immediately moved to follow, but just as his body was about to phase into the void, he hesitated for a moment—
Harry's sudden, unexpected collapse to the ground with agonized screams tearing from his throat left the Order members utterly bewildered and at a complete loss for what to do.
Only Sirius and Remus reacted immediately with understanding.
"What's wrong, Harry! Talk to me!"
Sirius crouched down urgently, his hands were supporting Harry's trembling back. Through his palm pressed against the boy's spine, he could feel with alarm that in just a few seconds, Harry's entire body had been drenched in sweat that soaked through his clothes.
"Is your... is it hurting again?"
Remus also looked deeply alarmed, his question was deliberately vague and euphemistic, not wanting to speak openly about the scar connection in front of others who might not know.
But Harry couldn't possibly respond to Sirius and Remus's concerned questions or reassure them in any way.
Sweat fell from his face in large drops, running down his neck. Harry's teeth ground together audibly. His fingers, pressed desperately into the ground for support, dug deeply into the soil.
His entire body trembled violently, continuously, as waves of extreme agony tore viciously at his consciousness like claws. With every ounce of strength he possessed, Harry struggled desperately to keep his blurred vision from going completely dark and losing consciousness!
BOOM!
A crushing pressure suddenly descended from above without warning, like an invisible mountain weighing directly on everyone's hearts and chests, rendering them completely immobile!
The oppressive presence of malicious power was unmistakable.
Harry Potter, still lying on the muddy ground wailing continuously made Voldemort's vertical pupils flicker slightly as he suddenly appeared hovering in the air above the clustered Order members.
But he had no time to delay or investigate further. His raised arm swept down mercilessly, the sickly green light of the Killing Curse bloomed dazzlingly from his wand tip and filled everyone watching with despair!
In that life-or-death instant, with the green light already streaking toward them, Harry still on his knees with both hands pressed into the earth for support suddenly raised his wand-bearing right hand.
He didn't even glance upward at the sky, didn't look at his target, yet somehow his wand pointed with precision directly at the cold-faced, gleeful Dark Lord hovering above!
Whoosh!
The soft golden-red radiance that surged from Harry's wand tip was far less dazzling and fierce than Bryan Watson's Fiendfyre had been. It didn't blaze with the same intensity or heat.
But the beautiful wave of golden-red light that swept up across the sky effortlessly destroyed the incoming green light of the Killing Curse, shattering it like glass. The radiance continued rising, instantly engulfing the Dark Lord suspended above them.
When the golden-red radiance dissipated, the Dark Lord whose terrified roars had echoed across the fields just moments before had completely vanished from everyone's sight.
Driven away by the same magic that had defeated him fourteen years ago.
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