A surge of magic, sharing the same origin as Bellatrix's curse but more concentrated and violent, shot forth.
It collided mid-air with Bellatrix's black-green death curse.
There was no explosion, no sound.
That curse, potent enough to kill any top-tier Wizard, simply vanished into thin air.
As if it had never existed.
The crazed grin froze on Bellatrix's face.
Sirius stood there, wand raised, momentarily stunned, but quickly recovered and sent a spell that blasted Bellatrix away.
The instigator on the other side paid no mind to what she had just done.
She only knew that after she released that burst of magic, the scent of death in the air dissipated.
Now her mission, her target, from the very beginning, had only ever been one.
Lucius looked back. That beast was still chasing him!
"No—!"
He let out a despairing howl of agony.
Fortunately, Lia had been distracted for a few seconds by her friends' safety.
It was during this brief gap.
He finally reached the end of the corridor.
There, standing tall, was an ancient stone Archway draped with tattered Curtains.
Lucius stood before the Archway, raised the Prophecy Orb high in his hand, and gasped out an incantation filled with reverence and terror.
"My Lord! Your loyal servant offers to you—"
Before he could finish his words.
A pressure, more terrifying than the combined dark magic of everyone present multiplied a thousandfold, descended like a tsunami from behind that stone Archway!
The air in the Department of Mysteries instantly turned icy and piercing.
A figure, black as ink, slowly emerged from behind the Curtains.
It was a noseless, wax-white, serpentine face.
Vertical pupils, flickering with madness and brutality, swept across the room.
All the Death Eaters instantly ceased fighting, dropping to their knees with a 'thud,' their bodies trembling violently with fear and excitement.
"My Lord!"
The Order members instantly formed a defensive formation, shielding Harry and his friends tightly behind them. Every face was etched with unprecedented gravity. He saw his kneeling, subservient servants, saw the Order of the Phoenix on high alert, saw the terror and hatred on Harry Potter's face.
Finally, his gaze fell upon the white-haired girl who remained in a slightly crouched, low-to-the-ground attack stance.
Lord Voldemort's gaze lingered on Lia for a long time.
He could sense that within that seemingly fragile, slender body lay a chaotic, powerful force that even he found astonishing.
More importantly, he smelled something... familiar.
The scent of his own soul fragment.
"So it's you."
Voldemort spoke. His voice, hoarse like a serpent's hiss, resonated directly within the soul of every person present.
"The little thing... that devoured a piece of my soul."
His words sent a chill to the bone of all those in the know—Harry, Hermione, Lupin, Sirius.
He knew everything!
"A fascinating form of life."
Voldemort didn't seem in a hurry to act. He circled Lia like a connoisseur, examining her with interest. "A pure magical creature, yet deeply bound to a human soul. You are far nobler than those filthy mudbloods and blood traitors."
A bizarre "appreciation" flickered in his crimson eyes.
"You should not consort with these insects. Your power, your uniqueness, destines you to stand in a higher place."
Voldemort's voice was full of temptation, seeming to bypass Lia's brain entirely and resonate directly with the black crystal deep within her soul.
"Submit to me, little thing."
"I will grant you supreme glory. You will no longer be anyone's pet or appendage."
"You will share power with me, become the Queen of the new world. Everyone will prostrate themselves at your feet, kiss the tips of your shoes. Everything you desire, Dried Fish, or the entire fishing grounds of Scotland, will be yours."
Queen... power... Lia's body stiffened for an instant.
Deep within her sky-blue pupils, a faint, eerie green halo uncontrollably surfaced.
It was Tom Riddle's will, stirred and tempted by the power of Voldemort's true self!
A craving born from the soul, a yearning for absolute power, began to stir restlessly within her.
She could even see the illusion Voldemort painted for her—herself sitting on a high throne, Hermione... no, everyone looking at her with awe, offering their most precious treasures.
That feeling... didn't seem bad.
If it were before, Lia might have been directly taken over by Tom's consciousness.
But now, the tempting words fell on deaf ears. Her eyes remained clear and vigilant as she stared directly at Voldemort.
"I refuse."
[Treasures, please send some reminders to update!]
[Seeing people urging for updates, whether genuine or not, makes me really happy, meow!]
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