After walking for just a few minutes, Harry saw a bright light in front of him. Yaxley and Dolohov came to a clearing. Harry knew that the terrible Aragog once lived here.

Its giant, incomplete web was still there, but the offspring it had bred had been driven off by the Death Eaters to fight for them.

A bonfire was burning in the center of the clearing, and the flickering light illuminated a group of silent and alert Death Eaters.

Some were still covering their faces and wearing hoods, while others had their faces exposed.

Two giants sat on the periphery, casting huge shadows on the surroundings. Their faces were as cold and rough as carved in rock.

Harry saw Fenrir nibbling on his long nails furtively, and the blond man Roll gently wiped his bleeding lips.

He saw Lucius Malfoy looking downcast and trembling, and Narcissa's eyes were sunken and filled with fear.

Every pair of eyes was fixed on Voldemort.

He stood there with his head bowed, his two pale hands clasping the Elder Wand in front of him, as if praying or counting silently. Harry was still standing at the edge of the clearing, absurdly thinking of someone counting in a hide-and-seek game.

child.

Behind Voldemort's head, the giant snake Nagini still floated in its sparkling magic cage, like a giant halo, spinning and coiling constantly.

Dolohov and Yaxley walked among the group of people, and Voldemort looked up.

"There is no trace of him, Master."

Voldemort's expression did not change, and his red eyes seemed to be burning in the firelight.

He placed the Elder Wand between his long fingers and twitched it slowly.

"Owner--"

It was Bellatrix speaking.

She was sitting closest to Voldemort, with disheveled hair, a little blood on her face, and no injuries on her body.

Voldemort raised a hand to silence her, and she stopped talking, staring at Voldemort with fervent and adoring eyes.

"I thought he would come," Voldemort looked at the dancing flames and said in his high, clear voice, "I thought he would come."

No one spoke. They all seemed as scared as Harry. Harry's heart beat hard against his ribs, as if he was determined to escape the body he was about to abandon. He took off the invisibility cloak with sweaty hands and put it with him.

The wands were stuffed together under his robes. He didn't want to be tempted and struck back.

"It seems...I was wrong."

Voldemort said.

"you're not wrong."

Harry gathered all his strength and raised his voice to the loudest. He didn't want others to hear that he was afraid. The Resurrection Stone slipped from his numb fingers, and he stepped into the firelight. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw his parents, Sirius and

Lupine had disappeared. At this moment, he felt that no one else mattered except Voldemort. There were only the two of them.

The hallucination was fleeting. All the Death Eaters stood up, the giant roared, and there were shouts, gasps of surprise, and even laughter. Voldemort stood there frozen, but his red eyes saw Harry

, watching Harry approaching him step by step, with only the bonfire between them.

Then a voice shouted——

"Harry! No!"

Harry turned around and saw that Hagrid was tied to a nearby tree, struggling desperately, his huge body shaking the branches above his head.

"No! No! Harry, you want-?"

"Shut up!" Roll yelled, waving his wand, and Hagrid fell silent.

Bellatrix had already jumped up. She looked eagerly at Voldemort and then at Harry, her chest rising and falling violently. The only things still moving around her were the flames and the snake, which flashed behind Voldemort's head.

The cage was constantly coiling and uncoiling.

Harry could feel the wand on his chest, but he did not reach out to take it. He knew that the snake was too tightly protected, and even if he aimed the wand at Nagini, he would be hit by fifty spells first. Voldemort and

Harry was still looking at each other, and then Voldemort turned his head slightly to the side, looking at the boy standing in front of him, his lipless mouth twisting, revealing a strange and gloomy smile.

"Harry Potter," he said, his voice as soft as a hissing flame, "The Boy-Who-Lived."

None of the Death Eaters moved, they were all waiting, everything was waiting. Hagrid was struggling, Bellatrix was panting, but Harry thought of Ginny for no reason and her radiant appearance.

And the feeling of her lips against his lips——

Voldemort had already raised his wand. His head was still tilted to one side, like a curious child, wanting to know what would happen next. Harry looked directly into those red eyes, hoping that that moment would come immediately, as soon as possible, while he

Still able to stand, not yet losing control, not yet showing fear—

Harry saw the mouth move, and with a flash of green light, everything disappeared.

But no one noticed that as the green light flashed, another light came from the side and came into Harry's mind.

Jon closed his eyes.

Harry lay face down, listening to the silence. He was completely alone. No one was looking at him. No one else was around. He wasn't quite sure he was here.

After a long time, maybe no time at all, he realized that he must be there, must be more than just a disembodied thought, because he was lying, absolutely lying, on the surface of something. He was therefore tactile,

And the thing under him also exists.

As soon as Harry came to this conclusion, he almost immediately realized that he was naked. He believed that he was the only one here, so he didn't feel embarrassed, but just felt a little curious.

He had a sense of touch and wanted to know if he still had vision. He tried to open his eyes and found that he still had eyes.

He was lying in the bright mist, but it was different from the fog he had seen before. It was not that the surrounding scenery was enveloped in cloud-like vapor, but that these cloud-like vapor had not yet formed the surrounding scenery. What he was lying on

The ground seemed white, neither hot nor cold, just a presence, a flat, empty thing.

He sat up and his body seemed uninjured. He touched his face and found that his glasses were gone.

A sound came to his ears from the unformed nothingness around him: a small banging sound made by something constantly flapping, swinging and struggling. This sound was pitiful and a little obscene at the same time.

He had a very uncomfortable feeling, as if he was eavesdropping on something secret and shameful.

Only then did he wish he was wearing clothes.

As soon as this idea took shape in my mind, a robe appeared not far away.

He took it and put it on: the robe was soft, clean, and warm.

How strange, it just appeared like that, he just had this idea...

He stood up and looked around. Was he in a large Room of Requirement?

The more he looked, the more he discovered that there was much to see.

A huge circular glass roof shone in the sunlight high above his head.

Maybe this is a palace.

It was quiet all around, except for the weird banging and whimpering sounds coming from the mist nearby...

Harry slowly turned around on the spot, and the surrounding scenery seemed to be transformed in front of his eyes.

A vast space, bright and clean, a hall much larger than the auditorium, with the clear glass dome above it. The hall was empty, and he was the only one, except for——

He flinched.

He saw the thing that made the noise.

The shape of the thing was a naked child, curled up on the ground. The red skin was very rough and looked like it had been peeled off. It was lying shivering under a seat. It had been abandoned and stuffed indiscriminately.

There, struggling to breathe.

Harry was scared.

Although the thing was petite, weak, and injured, he was unwilling to get close to it. However, he still moved over little by little, ready to retreat 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 comforted it, but the thing disgusted him.

"You can't help."

Harry turned around suddenly, and Albus Dumbledore was walking towards him. He had a straight back, brisk steps, and was wearing a flowing dark blue robe.

"Harry."

He opened his arms, both hands white and intact: "You are an outstanding child.

You brave, brave man.

let's go."

Dumbledore strode away from the whimpering red-skinned child, and Harry followed him dizzily.

Dumbledore led the way to the two chairs, which were spread apart under the high, shiny roof, which Harry had not noticed before.

Dumbledore sat down on one chair, and Harry sat on the other, staring blankly at the old headmaster's face.

Although, he was played by Jon, Harry obviously couldn't discover this.

Dumbledore's long silver hair and beard, his sharp blue eyes behind his half-moon glasses, his crooked nose: everything was just as he remembered, and yet...

"But you are dead."
To be continued...