"So it really was you, Richter. You've got some nerve!"
Hearing Dawn's mocking words, Voldemort could no longer suppress the fury surging within him.
Without hesitation, he raised his wand and opened with the sickly green flash of the Killing Curse.
Bang!
Dawn answered with the exact same spell.
The two streams of emerald light collided.
Green sparks scattered in all directions, driving back the darkness and illuminating the calm eyes behind Dawn's mask.
At that moment, he felt almost nothing.
Not anger.
Not tension.
If anything, there was only a trace of impatience born from sheer repetition.
Every encounter with Voldemort seemed to unfold exactly the same way.
The next step should be Fiendfyre.
Dawn thought to himself.
Even while engaged in a duel where a single mistake meant death, he still had the spare attention to entertain such irrelevant thoughts.
However— What happened next completely surprised him.
After the Killing Curses canceled each other out, Voldemort did nothing.
He simply stared at Dawn.
His eyes were cold. Yet beneath that coldness, if one looked carefully enough, there was also fear.
And something else.
A strange kind of resolve.
Dawn narrowed his eyes. The fear was easy enough to understand. Tom Riddle was afraid of death. That was beyond dispute.
Discovering that his Horcruxes had disappeared would naturally terrify him.
But determination? That was harder to explain.
"Tom," Dawn asked, "what exactly are you thinking about?"
"Your death."
Voldemort sneered.
Unfortunately, the threat lacked any real impact.
Dawn merely pointed his wand at him. "Then why aren't you attacking?"
Voldemort narrowed his eyes.
He offered no answer. Nor did he cast another spell.
'There was no point.' Silently, Voldemort repeated those words to himself.
Fighting here served no purpose. Even if he defeated Dawn, it would accomplish very little.
What mattered now was the great undertaking that was nearing completion.
The achievement that would allow him to return completely.
To be reborn.
Tonight, the reason he had appeared in Draco's body was simple.
He wanted confirmation.
An answer he already knew deep down. Something that would sever the final thread of hesitation within him.
The shadows on Voldemort's face shifted strangely in the darkness.
Then suddenly— He lifted his head.
His eyes locked onto Dawn's. And he spoke words that sounded almost like a prophecy.
"Richter."
"I shall await the day we meet again."
"Meet again?" Dawn laughed. "I can't think of anything less exciting."
He had no interest in continuing the conversation.
He was about to attack.
But then Draco's body suddenly went limp. With a thud, the boy collapsed onto the floor.
When he looked up again, the gaze in his eyes had completely changed.
"Ah...? What happened?"
"Brr... it's cold. So cold!"
Draco rubbed his arms, thoroughly confused. He seemed to think he had simply rolled out of bed.
Bracing himself against the mattress, he tried to stand.
Then he glanced upward.
And froze.
There, standing within the shadows cast by the furniture, was a dark-robed figure.
Draco rubbed his eyes.
Perhaps he was imagining things. But every flash of lightning outside revealed the same sight.
A white mask.
Floating within the darkness like a ghostly face.
"..."
"AAAAAHHHHHHH!"
After a brief pause, another scream shattered the night.
This one was even louder.
Draco's face turned deathly pale. He scrambled backward frantically until his back slammed into the bed frame.
Only then did he stop.
Dawn, however, paid him little attention.
His thoughts remained on Voldemort's final words.
Tom had certainly been afraid after discovering the disappearance of his Horcruxes.
But nowhere near as afraid as Dawn had expected.
Not hysterical.
Not desperate.
Tom seemed strangely confident. That was Dawn's conclusion.
A new thought began forming in his mind.
Unfortunately, Draco's increasingly frantic screaming made concentration impossible.
Shaking his head, Dawn stepped across the expensive carpet and prepared to deal with the boy first.
Then—
"You... you're Dawn Richter?"
Draco suddenly pointed at him in horror.
"Huh?"
Dawn blinked.
He genuinely hadn't expected to be recognized.
He was wearing a hood.
A mask.
The only visible feature was a pair of eyes currently belonging to Fred Weasley.
Thinking back, he reviewed every interaction he had ever had with Draco.
Could it be...
That incident?
The one where he had burned Draco's clothes off and hung him naked from the ceiling?
Had it left such a profound psychological scar that Draco could identify him from his eyes alone?
Dawn rubbed his chin thoughtfully.
For a moment, he actually reflected on his past behavior. Had he truly gone too far?
No.
The more he thought about it, the more convinced he became that Draco had deserved it.
Dawn nodded to himself.
Clearly he had done nothing wrong.
Across from him, Draco swallowed nervously. For some reason, under that gaze, he felt colder than ever.
His fingers tightened around his clothes.
"What... what do you want?"
His voice trembled.
Then, finally realizing the danger he was in, he hurriedly blurted out, "Wait! I don't know who you are!"
Any remaining emotion vanished from Dawn instantly.
He raised his wand.
°Stupefy°
A flash of red light streaked through the room.
Draco's eyes rolled back. He collapsed unconscious.
Dawn walked over and grabbed his shoulder.
Crack!
A loud report echoed through the room.
Both figures vanished.
Moments later they reappeared outside Hogwarts.
Thump.
Dawn dumped Draco face-first into the mud.
Glancing around, he noticed that the pile of students near the gates had shrunk considerably.
Fawkes had probably already transported many of them back into the castle.
Taking out the parchment list, Dawn traced a finger across it.
Under the influence of magic, the final entry—Draco Malfoy's address—vanished.
That was it.
Every household on the list had been visited.
Only seven names remained. Seven students who had disappeared under Voldemort's influence.
Dawn let out a long breath.
Finally.
The tedious work was finished.
He folded the parchment and tucked it away. At last, he could relax and shift part of his attention elsewhere.
To another body.
Blaise Zabini's.
...
Jerusalem.
The shared capital claimed by both Israel and Palestine.
Two hours ahead of Britain.
While darkness still lingered there, the first hints of dawn were already appearing.
The Church of the Holy Sepulchre.
A white stone church recognized throughout the Christian world as sacred ground.
According to tradition, it stood upon the site where Jesus was crucified and buried.
Blaise was here.
Ever since being removed from Hogwarts, Dawn had taken control of him almost immediately and traveled to Jerusalem.
Hidden from sight, he had spent the entire time observing.
If his theory was correct—
If Voldemort truly intended to use a resurrection ritual—
Then this place would inevitably become important.
And when Tom arrived, Dawn intended to provide him with a very unpleasant surprise.
After all, relying solely on Nicolas Flamel to obstruct Voldemort seemed unwise.
Watching the sun slowly rise, Dawn eventually left the church and entered a nearby shop to buy something to eat.
Incidentally, he had used the same method as Voldemort when leaving home.
A Confundus Charm.
Blaise's parents remained blissfully unaware.
A short while later, bread in hand, Dawn settled onto a set of stone steps.
Stretching his tired back, he sighed.
He had spent the entire day wandering through Jerusalem.
Without his ability to perceive magical mist or trait patterns, even distinguishing wizards from Muggles required effort.
Finding Voldemort—
Who could easily hide beneath Polyjuice Potion or a Disillusionment Charm—
was even more difficult.
He took a bite of the disappointing bread.
Then sighed again.
Watching the increasingly crowded streets, he wondered whether he should simply cast a massive Muggle-Repelling Charm over the entire church and see what happened.
---
Outside Hogwarts.
Realizing nothing was likely to happen in Jerusalem anytime soon, Dawn shifted his attention back to his current location.
He intended to return to the castle and see how Flamel's preparations were progressing.
The remaining students lay scattered across the muddy ground. Dawn didn't bother transporting them himself.
Fawkes would handle it.
Instead, he headed toward the school alone.
Though dawn was approaching, thick clouds still blanketed the sky. The world remained dim.
Step by step, he climbed the muddy slope leading toward Hogwarts.
Then—
The moment he reached the steep cliff path, something felt wrong.
Dawn frowned.
Looking up, he realized the rain had stopped.
Completely.
The endless downpour had vanished without him noticing. Silence filled the world.
A thin mist emerged from the forest.
Slowly spreading.
Everything grew hazy.
Beneath what seemed like a suddenly appeared moon, the castle atop the distant cliffs became faint and indistinct.
Beautiful. Mysterious. Unsettling.
Dawn frowned deeper.
Crunch.
The sound of shoes against wet earth echoed loudly through the stillness.
He stopped.
No longer willing to continue forward.
What is this?
Unable to understand what was happening, he immediately turned around.
Better to leave first... Then investigate later.
But at that moment—
Thud!
A red-haired boy suddenly fell from the sky. He landed heavily in the mud. Water splashed everywhere.
George?
Dawn narrowed his eyes. The sight only increased his sense that something was deeply wrong.
Taking several steps closer, he examined the boy.
Then he hesitated.
No.
Not George.
Looking more carefully, subtle differences emerged. This looked more like—Fred.
The absurd thought surfaced in Dawn's mind.
Then his pupils contracted.
A puddle nearby reflected a familiar face. Two scarlet eyes stared back at him.
Instinctively, Dawn touched his own face. The reflection mirrored the motion exactly.
How...
How was this possible? Without realizing it, he had somehow regained his original appearance.
Dawn surveyed the strange landscape surrounding him.
For the first time, he felt as though he had wandered into some bizarre dreamlike tale.
"Don't doubt it, child." A familiar voice spoke behind him. "This is the world of thought."
"Or if you prefer..."
"The world of dreams."
Dawn immediately turned around.
And saw something profoundly disturbing.
Floating through the air was a brain. A giant brain covered in writhing tentacles.
As it drifted closer, Nicolas Flamel's voice emerged from it.
Dawn's face twitched.
Even he felt a shiver crawl across his scalp. Not from fear, but pure discomfort.
"A Brain in a Jar."
His expression remained blank.
The brain seemed offended by the title.
It spun around.
Transparent tentacles rubbed against its folds with unpleasant squelching noises.
"Oh, certainly, child."
"You may call me that...Though I would be far happier if you called me Nicolas."
The brain floated to within a meter of him.
It looked even worse up close.
Dawn immediately stepped backward. "Where's the real Nicolas Flamel?"
"Oh, the other me?" The brain emphasized the distinction carefully. "He left the castle not long ago."
"He's in Jerusalem."
Dawn frowned.
He had never noticed Flamel through Blaise's senses. The old alchemist was likely concealed as well.
After checking, Dawn confirmed that he could still perceive everything through Blaise.
Then he pointed at the transformed surroundings.
"Enough."
"What exactly is going on? You said this is the world of thought. Then why did I suddenly end up here?"
"Oh, that?"
The brain answered leisurely.
"After using the Joining Draught to transform myself into jelly, I ground the result into powder and dispersed it throughout the castle.
To ensure every student consumed some.
You inhaled a little after entering. And so, without realizing it, you arrived in the world of thought."
The explanation sounded absurd.
Worse, the brain spoke casually about being eaten. As though such a thing were completely normal.
Dawn's face twitched.
The entire process sounded strangely familiar.
"Wait."
"You neglected to mention that part."
Dawn had never imagined that Flamel's copied consciousness would drag him into an experience resembling another Thought-Link.
Inside, the brain quietly thought: 'Of course I didn't tell you.'
Because most of that was a lie.
Its folds quivered faintly. Almost like laughter. Yet its voice remained perfectly serious.
"An unexpected outcome."
"After all, this was my first attempt. I never anticipated things would develop this way."
'Was that really true?' Dawn felt something was off. Yet he couldn't identify the problem.
Eventually, he pointed toward the unconscious red-haired boy.
"So Fred appeared here because this is the world of thought? And because his mind and mine are separate?"
"Exactly."
The brain sounded pleased.
"On the level of thought, the two of you are entirely different people."
Dawn took a deep breath. "What about reality? What's happening in the actual castle right now?"
"Hm."
"No idea." The brain rubbed its folds again. "Probably a castle full of sleeping children."
Sleeping.
That actually made sense.
After all, every Thought-Link involving Resurrection Stone powder had required the body to remain asleep.
Dawn lowered his head.
His curiosity about thought, memory, and consciousness grew stronger.
Anything connected to the mind seemed to manifest through remarkably similar mechanisms.
"All right, child." The brain interrupted his thoughts. "You can ponder the mysteries of consciousness later."
"For now..."
Its tentacles pointed toward the distant castle shrouded in mist.
"We need to remove Voldemort first."
___________
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