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His hands trembled.
After casting the spell, he nervously glanced at Dumbledore, having noticed a chilling look in the Headmaster's eyes beneath his crescent-shaped glasses. As one of the few who understood Dumbledore well, Snape acted decisively to prevent Dumbledore from losing control.
"Damn it! How dare you attack a Ministry official! You're all insane!" Umbridge shrieked as she struggled to rise, her voice piercing.
However, the expected support from Minister Fudge didn't come. He remained silent, not even reprimanding Snape for his attack.
Fudge could sense the tension; he hadn't come to provoke Dumbledore but to find leverage, not to anger him and seek death.
"What do you want...?"
Umbridge realised that Dumbledore had somehow appeared right in front of her, his expression unreadable, but his eyes sharp like an eagle's.
"You shouldn't be asking me what I want; you should be asking yourself what you want. My respect for the Ministry is not something you can use to speak freely in front of me."
"If you don't know what dignity means... I think I can teach you." Dumbledore picked up Umbridge's wand, which had fallen to the ground.
He calmly handed the wand back to Umbridge.
"It was you who attacked me first!"
Umbridge's tone was furious, but she didn't dare reach for her wand, realising Dumbledore was also holding one.
At that moment, feeling the overwhelming pressure emanating from him, Umbridge feared he might challenge her to a duel in the name of family. She finally remembered who stood before her.
Albus Dumbledore was not the timid figure she usually faced, but the most respected and powerful wizard in the magical world today.
"Is that so?"
Dumbledore stared at Umbridge.
In an instant, she felt her buried memories resurface, including those she thought she had forgotten.
"I give you one more chance to say it again."
It was both a reminder and a warning.
The Aurors kept their heads down, the Minister of Magic remained silent, and "Professor Lockhart" was grinning. Snape and Professor McGonagall exchanged glances, both with complex expressions.
The atmosphere was tense.
Umbridge wanted to seek help from Fudge, but he and the Aurors pretended to be examining Quirrell's body, offering no response. She felt a sense of isolation and fear.
"No, I accidentally bumped into the wall."
Finally, Umbridge couldn't withstand the pressure and chose to back down, she knew what she had just experienced and understood that everything she had buried would bury her if exposed.
"Well, be more careful next time."
Dumbledore's tone remained gentle.
He returned Umbridge's wand to her and turned to approach Quirrell's body, leaving her with a back that seemed full of vulnerabilities and opportunities for a sneak attack.
However, Umbridge couldn't muster the courage.
"Have you received news that someone is trying to use Quirrell's life to perform a resurrection ritual?" Dumbledore squatted in front of Quirrell's body.
"No, no, no, someone is trying to use Quirrell's corpse for some kind of resurrection ritual." Fudge, no longer able to hold back, quickly revealed what he could.
He was an extremely clever politician, and politicians needed keen observation skills. Thus, even though his authority was compromised, he didn't dare to speak up for Umbridge.
After all, he had discovered a deeply unsettling issue: Albus Dumbledore, who usually valued his reputation, was no longer concerned about it. The implications of this were enough to stir an uncontrollable anxiety within him.
As the commotion in the basement began to settle, Ian had already reached the door of the Headmaster's office. The guardian statue was never a barrier for him; he just needed to lift his foot slightly, and the path to enter the office would be clear.
"What exactly do you want me to do? Is Tom hidden here?" Ian pushed open the heavy wooden door, only to find the quiet office occupied solely by the Phoenix, Fawkes, tending to its feathers.
"Fawkes, when you have a moment, could you visit the Room of Requirement? My Phoenix seems to be hatching, and I'm sure your experience with young Phoenixes is far greater than mine."
Ian pulled out a rare herb, attempting to bribe Fawkes, but just as his hand reached out, the Phoenix suddenly took flight without warning.
It grabbed hold of Ian's robes, and in an instant, both he and the creature vanished from the Headmaster's office. When Ian's vision cleared again, he found himself in a vast room, its floor littered with shattered stones, and ahead stood a half-open door.
The flickering candle flames illuminated the ground, revealing that the broken stones were actually life-sized chess pieces of wizards.
Stone soldiers, knights with broken heads, and kings whose bodies were nowhere to be found. This scene stirred some long-buried memories within Ian.
"Wow! Are you serious?"
Ian turned around.
The Phoenix that had brought him here had vanished, leaving behind a note written in Dumbledore's familiar handwriting.
[There will be no danger.]
It was a short sentence, with no further explanation. Ian felt a bit helpless, drew his wand, and pushed open the door ahead.
As expected.
On the other side of the door was a small platform, with black flames burning in front of it, and the ground around it inscribed with numerous complex and powerful runes.
"Am I actually playing the role of Harry Potter here?"
Ian stepped onto the platform, his gaze falling on a table in front of the flames, where seven glass vials containing liquids of various colours were clearly visible.
In addition, a piece of yellowed parchment stood out prominently.
[Danger lies ahead, safety is behind.]
[Two among us can provide you help.]
[Drink them; one will help you pass through ahead, the other will return you to your original position.]
...
A classic logic puzzle.
Ian didn't finish reading.
Instead, he pulled a potion from his pouch, drank it, and headed straight for the flames. The black fire did not harm him at all.
"Without Quirrell, can Voldemort still function?"
Ian's doubts were answered as he crossed through the sea of flames, he found himself in a room with twelve massive pillars, at the centre of which stood a mirror he recognised very well.
The Mirror of Erised.
In front of the mirror stood a wizard dressed in black robes and a black hat. He seemed to sense someone's presence, stretched his neck, and slowly turned around.
"The magic of sacrificing to the Death God has allowed me to temporarily escape death, and the rewards I now reap have completely freed me from death, allowing me to once again savour the beauty of breathing!"
The dark-robed wizard raised his hand and slowly removed his hood, revealing a face that was pockmarked like cement, with no nose and a snake-like visage.
"I admire your courage and commend Dumbledore's boldness... However, he certainly did not anticipate that a wizard as remarkable as you would have to face what lies ahead."
His raspy voice dripped with malice.
"Ian Prince, now, in a fair duel, you will truly see what a Dark Lord like me is." A dull stone fell from his hand, shattering into pieces.
Having regained his magical power, Voldemort raised his wand.
"Avada..."
Voldemort began to chant the spell.
Ian also held up his wand.
However, he didn't cast a spell. Instead, he threw a dozen vials at Voldemort.
Voldemort was alert, and although he dodged quickly, he couldn't avoid Ian's barrage entirely, and several vials struck him one after another.
In the next moment, Voldemort's aunts, uncles, grandfathers, and great-grandfathers exploded on his body.
"Damn! What is this?!"
Voldemort felt his magical power waning, his face filled with terror as he screamed in rage as green light erupting from his wand and shooting toward Ian.
"It's the magic of love."
Ian's wand also glowed green.
The two Avada Kedavra curses collided violently in mid-air.
At the same time, in the Room of Requirement, the black-purple eggshell quietly shattered.
(End of Chapter)