Harry Potter: I Am Big D

Chapter -103.

At this moment, Voldemort's instinct was to flee, to escape far from this place.

But he quickly regained his composure.

He couldn't do that!

After spending eleven long years dragging around his fractured soul, hiding and struggling to survive, he simply couldn't turn back now.

Do you know how he spent those eleven years?

He lived as a tiny rodent in Albania, slowly gathering energy by feeding on small animals, existing in worse conditions than a stray dog.

He didn't dare to reach out to his once-loyal followers who had once cowered at his feet.

Hide and struggle once again?

He couldn't bear the thought of living like that for even a moment longer.

He had to regain his physical form.

And then...

'Kill both of them!'

'Whoever fulfills that original prophecy, once they're gone, the prophecy will fade away.'

With this thought in mind, his murderous intent flared as he lightly raised his hand, binding Neville in countless ropes, turning him into something resembling a dumpling.

Watching the two young wizards writhing helplessly on the ground like helpless worms, Voldemort's fear lessened significantly.

Now he was in charge of the situation.

What was there to worry about?

Even if Quirrell faltered, he was still the most powerful wizard, and he was the one calling the shots; how could two little wizards change the outcome?

"Hand over the Sorcerer's Stone!"

First, he needed the Sorcerer's Stone; he had to reclaim his body and return to his former glory.

It was essential.

With a wave of his wand, Harry's body was pulled involuntarily toward 'Quirrell'; Voldemort was convinced the Sorcerer's Stone he desired must be in Harry's possession. He knew the traps on the ground were set by Dumbledore, and he understood this former Transfiguration professor better than anyone.

He believed in the prophecy more than Dumbledore did.

Then he grasped Harry's shoulder.

Take the Sorcerer's Stone, eliminate Potter, eliminate Longbottom.

But unexpectedly, that simple action instantly turned his advantage upside down.

As soon as his hand made contact with Harry's body, it felt like he had touched 'something hot and corrosive'; his palm, wrist, and arm began to dissolve.

Quirrell let out a painful cry, and Voldemort felt an intense discomfort.

A curse!

There was a protective charm around Potter!

That charm was defending him!

The target was now himself!

At that moment, Voldemort suddenly grasped how he had met his demise.

Unfortunately, even with this new understanding, it was already too late.

The body he shared with Quirrell couldn't handle casting spells any longer.

Ding.

Just before his body completely dissolved, he caught a glimpse of it—the child of the Longbottom family, holding a bright red stone in his hand.

The real Sorcerer's Stone!

It appeared fate was having a laugh at his expense once again.

He had made the wrong choice again!

"Harry Potter! Neville Longbottom!"

Voldemort shouted with the last of his strength, filled with unwillingness, as his body turned into a foul-smelling puddle.

Then, a shadowy figure emerged from the puddle, black mist swirling together to form a twisted face.

It was Voldemort, the remnants of his soul; he abandoned Quirrell and attempted to escape.

Screaming, cursing, and unleashing a barrage of insults, he sped toward the door.

"It seems I arrived just in time."

At that critical moment, Dudley's voice rang out.

Unbeknownst to anyone, Dudley had appeared at the door, right in Voldemort's escape path.

Then, to everyone's surprise, he raised his hand and gave a hefty slap to the gaseous remnants of Voldemort.

A golden light suddenly illuminated the room.

Faced with the incoming slap, the already gaseous Voldemort wasn't worried at all; instead, he expressed delight, as if waking up to someone presenting him with a pillow.

He recognized Dudley instantly; he was the wizard who had squared off with him not long ago in the Forbidden Forest, and his impressive physical strength had left quite an impression.

Yes, he aimed to possess Dudley, and thus charged straight at him.

A mere slap, regardless of his strength, couldn't harm him since the soul wasn't physical, and there was nothing to fear.

As long as he acquired a new body, he would have another shot.

This time, he wouldn't go near Harry; he would find another way to eliminate him, and that Longbottom kid, he would snatch the Sorcerer's Stone from him.

Victory was within reach.

The very next moment,

Voldemort found himself regretting this once again.

He had no idea how many times this had happened today.

Dudley's palm gleamed gold, sparkling with energy.

"Ripple, rapid movement!"

The ripple was a golden wave, a sophisticated use of ripple energy that could further amplify one's strength and awaken the body's potential.

It was also highly lethal against dark creatures like vampires.

The ripple created a golden shield around Dudley's hand, instantly brightening the entire room.

Then, with a solid strike, he hit Voldemort's residual essence.

A look of astonishment crossed Voldemort's previously contorted face.

Before he could recover, he was abruptly sent flying.

He crashed hard against the wall, and the black mist was instantly scattered.

Then, the wisps of black mist struggled to regroup, trying to revert to their original form, but Dudley's golden ripple had inflicted serious damage on his residual soul, preventing him from succeeding after several attempts.

In the world of JoJo, ripple energy affects only vampires, but here, things were different.

Ripple energy could inflict significant damage on anything with negative or dark properties.

This included Voldemort's residual soul.

It was comparable to the light and dark energies in "Jackie Chan Adventures"; ripple energy represents righteous energy while the dark properties signify dark energy.

After some time, the black magical energy slowly reassembled, but its color was much lighter than before, as if it could vanish at any moment.

"You dare, you dare."

The Dark Lord, reduced to being swatted against the wall like an insect by a brute like Hagrid.

What a disgrace, an utter humiliation!

A raspy voice emerged, and Voldemort's residual soul glared at Dudley. Yet, he was hesitant to act rashly; Dudley had shown he could inflict harm. That slap had at least diminished the vitality he had absorbed over five or six years in Albania, and another strike could completely obliterate him.

However, while Voldemort remained cautious, he felt a strong craving for Dudley's body. That ripple energy not only enhanced Dudley's muscles but also endowed him with extraordinary life force—precisely what Voldemort yearned for. If he could take control of Dudley, he could quickly regain strength.

Dudley had his left hand slightly open, less than five millimeters away from his face, with his waist turned at a 50-degree angle, facing Voldemort in a unique stance, as the silver moonlight streamed through the room's top window.

The imposing figure of his 2.3-meter height and bulging muscles conjured a visually stunning effect; Behind him, it felt as if a faint background melody played softly in the air.

'Auntie, press down~'

This is the Dursley under the moonlight!

***

Taking a small break...

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Note : Guys, some power stones will be really motivating.