Hogwarts Raven (Harry Potter)

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Every inch of space was covered. 

The air was filled with the pungent smell of dust and the fluctuations of magical energy. As the saying goes, "When in doubt, unleash overwhelming firepower." Ian fully demonstrated what it meant to not worry about the direction of the threat when you had vast magical power. 

"You damned magical creature! A product of biological alchemy!" Voldemort was forced out of his hiding spot, his body surrounded by an invisible shield that protected him from the blades. 

Of course. 

Since Ian's magic had been unleashed so rapidly, Voldemort's face and body bore wounds of varying severity, which was likely the reason for his rage. 

"So you think I'm a product of biological alchemy?" Ian realized what Voldemort had been trying to say earlier. He sneered and raised his wand again. 

Voldemort's expression immediately tensed, and he chose to strike first, casting a spell at Ian. 

"Flesh Stripping!" 

It was a vicious dark spell. 

The increasingly dormant magic power in his body made Voldemort dare not engage in a magical duel with Ian. He realized that the substance Ian had thrown at him was far more troublesome than he had imagined. An invisible force had penetrated deep into his body, suppressing his magic power with an unstoppable momentum. 

"Finite Incantatem!" Ian flicked his wand. 

Voldemort's magic dissipated into the air, he had learned the version modified by Dumbledore, which could even disrupt the time and fate magic of Slytherin. 

A mere dark magic was nothing in comparison. 

"Become my nourishment once more!" 

Ian swung his wand forcefully, and the fire on the ground transformed into the deep red of the "Soul Furnace," the soul-burning fire dancing dangerously. 

Voldemort, who had a deep understanding of souls, immediately became alert. 

"Damn you! Where did you learn all this?" Voldemort was shocked and tried to cast another spell, but he sensed that something was increasingly wrong within his body. 

The magic power he used to cast spells had completely stagnated, no longer possessing any activity, like stagnant water, or like the Squibs he despised. 

The weakening of his magic power made Voldemort struggle to deal with the blades in the space. 

His black robe had been set ablaze, emitting a pungent burning smell. He tried to continue using his shield to block the surrounding attacks, but the increasingly uncontrollable magic power was causing him to deteriorate once more. 

The shield crackled, as if it could collapse at any moment. 

"As you said, perhaps it's the magic Dumbledore refuses to teach you?" Ian also began playing psychological games, making Voldemort even more furious. 

"Dumbledore is just a fool I've been toying with! Damn you! You and Dumbledore will both taste the consequences of opposing me!" 

"I'm not losing to you! I'm losing to that damned thing you threw at me! We'll meet again! And when we do, you will die the most horrific death!" 

Voldemort had already realized he had been outsmarted by Ian. Seeing his magical shield weakening, he gritted his teeth and cursed, trying to make a quick escape. 

Suddenly. 

Voldemort transformed into a cloud of black smoke and rushed toward the ceiling. 

"You should've run earlier. Unfortunately, you couldn't escape the moment I entered." Ian's words left Voldemort bewildered, and a sense of foreboding made him charge upward frantically. 

"Look, you've only delayed your death..." Ian gently twisted his wand, and Voldemort, who had halfway merged into the ceiling, suddenly froze. 

The black smoke he had transformed into contained a trace of a different color. 

"Boom!" 

As if he had lost control of his body, Voldemort fell from the sky, unable to maintain his magic, and reverted to his human form, covered in wounds. 

"No!" 

Before he could get up. 

Sharp spikes pierced through Voldemort's body, not only immobilizing his wand-wielding hand but also pinning him to the ground as if nailed there. 

"What have you done to me!" 

Voldemort's eyes were bloodshot as he roared, lifting his head. 

"A little transfiguration magic, how about that?" Ian glanced at the Mirror of Erised for a moment before turning to Voldemort. 

"I told you earlier, victory would only be on my side. I don't like to lie." Ian's wand twitched slightly, and the spikes protruding from Voldemort's body turned into chains. 

They emerged from Voldemort's flesh, binding his hands, feet, and head, allowing Ian to choose to dismember and kill Voldemort at any time. 

"This can't be transfiguration! It violates Gamp's Law of Elemental Transfiguration!" Voldemort's blood-red eyes widened in disbelief, his voice filled with incredulity. 

"You see, I told you you didn't learn the real stuff at Hogwarts. You must not have attended Professor McGonagall's classes. She told me herself that wizards are like gods." 

"If you're a god, why bother with laws? It's the limitations of your thinking that hold you back, Tom!" Ian stepped toward Voldemort, who was pinned in the center of the room, surrounded by deep red flames. Voldemort's wand had already turned to ash in the fire, though it was unclear if it was Quirrell's original wand or someone else's. 

"What kind of magic is this?" Voldemort suddenly seemed to calm down. 

"It's magic I created myself... my path." Ian walked as if on a carpet woven from flames, yet he felt no heat and was unaffected by the fire. 

"Do you think defeating and killing me will make you a hero? Dumbledore won't let you go... and I'm the one who truly understands you!" 

Voldemort struggled to lift his head and look at Ian. 

"I don't think you understand anything." 

Ian smirked. 

"You're just a product of alchemy, created by Dumbledore with false memories. When you're no longer useful, our Headmaster will destroy you." 

Clearly. 

Voldemort's misunderstanding of Ian continued. He seemed to realize that the situation was hopeless, and all his previous hysteria and rage had vanished. 

"You're the biological weapon, and so is your entire family." Ian delivered a hard slap to Voldemort, causing half of his face to cave in. 

This guy had clearly sacrificed a lot of flesh to forcibly increase his magic power. 

"I must say, if your plan was to step on me to rise to power, you've certainly succeeded... using some underhanded tricks." Voldemort gritted his teeth, continuing to speak in a hoarse voice. 

"If you have ambition, as long as you don't kill me, I can assist you in becoming the new Dark Lord... I think I would enjoy such an achievement." 

"After all, I'm not getting any younger; it's time to find a successor." Voldemort was clearly speaking nonsense, trying to save the life he had just regained. 

However. 

This method of temptation was indeed unique. 

"??????" 

Ian felt that Voldemort likely regarded the title of Dark Lord as something very prestigious. 

"Your mind is definitely different from normal people. How could you think I would want to become a Dark Lord? Don't you know I hate it when others fear me?" 

He slapped Voldemort again. 

Now both sides of Voldemort's face were symmetrical. 

"If you want to be like Dumbledore, I can help you. You certainly deserve flowers and applause, becoming the White Wizard basking in the sunlight." To Ian's surprise, Voldemort was surprisingly tolerant. Despite the anger burning in his eyes, he suppressed his rage and attempted to negotiate with Ian. 

One could only say that the scope of his thinking determined the value of the temptations he could offer. 

"Dear senior... you've lived for so many years and seem to have made no progress." Ian kicked Voldemort, who was trying to prop himself up to meet his gaze. 

"The Dark Lord? The White Wizard? What a narrow ideal! It's simply too evil! I wouldn't even want to dirty my foot by kicking you, influencing my grand ambitions for the future." Ian looked down at Voldemort, who was back on the ground, tightening the chains emerging from his body. 

"In terms of evil, your magic is far more sinister than mine, treating other wizards as food... Tell me, do you think our White Wizard could tolerate the existence of your kind of magic in the world?" 

"He can't even tolerate me learning some dark magic." Voldemort's knowledge and insight were not weak; he looked at the vast sea of flames around him with a mocking tone. 

"You will definitely die, and die worse than I will, and you won't have a chance to return like I do. You might even be treated as a dark creature that he needs to deal with to further establish his greatness." Voldemort spoke with conviction, his eyes filled with malice and a hint of schadenfreude. 

"Just die already and say less." Ian conjured a gun using transfiguration, intending to let Voldemort die by the very Muggle weapon he despised, after all, in Voldemort's eyes, this method of killing was indeed humiliating. The anger on Voldemort's face resurfaced. 

"I will return! When that time comes, I hope to see you again, rather than having to dig up your grave, spit on your ashes, and mock you for becoming another glorious achievement of the great White Wizard Dumbledore!" 

Voldemort sneered, lowering his head as if waiting for death to come again. 

"Unfortunately, your family has no grave left to dig." Ian aimed the gun at Voldemort's forehead and, without hesitation, pulled the trigger. 

(To Be Continued…)