days at Hogwarts

Chapter 751 The Night Rain Gradually Stops
A flash of green light passed by.

The sturdy middle-aged man's eyes had lost their luster, but he still maintained the motion of leaping forward with his hands raised high. His legs had already left the ground, and his body hanging in the air had become nothing more than a corpse, and the speed of his fall seemed to have become very slow.

Inertia still supported the body as it crashed into Voldemort. The pure physical impact interrupted the magic he had been brewing for a long time.

Voldemort staggered slightly, his shame and anger almost making him lose his mind, but facing the critical moment of life and death crisis, he still endured it and ignored the remains of the savage and despicable beast. He let old Crabbe hold his waist with his torn hands and looked up at the sky.

The young wizard floated in the air, facing the ground with his wand stretched out. The wand was unusually long. In front of him was a whole piece of golden rainbow light with unimaginable high temperature. Behind him were thick clouds under the night sky. The drizzle was still continuing, but the rain evaporated before it got close.

The brilliant rainbow light suddenly fell, pressing down like a falling star.

The blockade of Apparition still exists, and there is nowhere to hide from the impending fiery magic. The counterattack is interrupted by old Crabbe...

In a hurry, Voldemort only condensed a shining silver shield.

The next moment, the sky above was completely obscured by the magical sun.

A half-circle of dazzling sun roared in, and the scorching flames covered all areas outside the silver shield. Voldemort's pale cheeks turned red, and he seemed to hear the sound of old Crabbe's remains drying up and cracking as they could not withstand the high temperature.

Voldemort's face was ferocious, but he held his wand high, making the silver shield shine even more dazzling.

"Zheng..."

The fireworks hit the silver shield with a loud and piercing roar. Powerful magic power poured into the silver shield, and the silver light suddenly surged, becoming brighter and brighter.

The blazing rainbow light was fierce and magnificent, as if the entire star was falling and crashing. The high temperature continued to scorch the ground, gradually melting into flowing magma, and the air gradually became thinner.

Every inch of skin was suffering from unimaginable burning, the blood in the body was surging and boiling, and the heart was emitting sharp pains... It seemed like a long time had passed, and it seemed like only a few seconds had passed. When the pain reached a certain critical point, the senses became dull, the figure on the other side of the rainbow light became blurred, the pain eased, and there was only the whistling of gas convection in the ears, and a choking and pungent smell lingered around the tip of the nose.

That's... the smell of death.

Voldemort's snake eyes widened, but his pupils shrank into a slit, and he suddenly woke up: "Loren Morgan!"

The thin air distorted the sound, making the dark wizard's roar even more shrill, almost breaking through the barrier of space and echoing in Loren's ears. The pale snake-like face had been burned, with some parts burnt black and some parts revealing pink flesh, which was soon stained red with blood.

Maintaining the tremendous magic power and pouring it into the silver shield, the metal vibration sound became even more piercing.

The slender pupils in Voldemort's red eyes began to roll up, and the anger and unwillingness on that snake face gradually faded away, becoming empty and dazed. The whole body made a slight shattering sound as if it could not bear the burden, and tiny cracks spread from the mouth and nose to the other facial features.

The inside of the body seemed to have been ignited, and inconspicuous black smoke rose from the orifices and cracks. The fine black mist vaguely formed another face.

This is a sign that the ghost is abandoning the body and trying to escape on its own.

Voldemort's ghost is very unique. It is different from those ghosts in Hogwarts, and it is also different from the souls summoned by the Resurrection Stone. Horcruxes can be destroyed by several things and magic. Although that kind of ghost is weak, it is almost unaffected by the real environment.

But Voldemort could never have imagined that his seven Horcruxes had all been destroyed. Without the indestructible and miraculous connection between souls, his main soul had lost the qualification to roam the world.

Loren was not in a hurry. He controlled the falling rainbow light step by step, destroying the silver shield bit by bit.

Wisps of black smoke floated out of the mouth, nostrils, ears and eyes, but could never leave the body. A face condensed from black smoke covered the originally pale snake face, as if a demon was parasitizing it. Voldemort's voice came from the ghost and throat at the same time, overlapping and intertwining.

"Damn Morgan! Hypocritical Dumbledore! Do you think you can win by killing me?"

"You will regret this, Slytherin has foreseen it!"

"..."

Fine cracks spread across the silver shield, and it shattered quietly after a few seconds.

It was just a moment, and the overwhelming rainbow light enveloped Voldemort's body. In an instant, surging flames rose up, and the perfect body created by the resurrection ceremony was ignited in the blink of an eye. The skin, muscles, blood vessels, organs, and even the inside of the bones were spewing flames. The blood dried up before it could evaporate, and carbonized and burned.

The hot wind raged across the tarmac, and the body turned into scattered sparks and hot ashes.

The rainbow light gradually dimmed. The wizards hiding in the distance looked up, but did not see the figure of the young wizard. Instead, they found that the rain curtain had once again covered the entire airport, dripping, cold and wet.

The rain extinguished the burning ground. The humid summer night wind continued to blow, but it was much softer. The broken ground was pieced together again. The reinforced concrete grew and covered like plants. The melted and cooled obsidian flowed like liquid and turned into glass and walls again.

The Aurors of the U.S. Ministry of Magic were stunned, and Scrimgeour stared at the airport that had been restored to its original state, in a daze.

"Dumbledore..."

Scrimgeour closed his eyes and the scene just now emerged in his mind. The almost magnificent rainbow light enveloped the entire airport like a shield covering the sky and the sun. The high temperature that burned the world almost brought hell into reality. The Dark Lord who once suffocated the entire Ministry of Magic, and the indestructible silver shield that simultaneously blocked dozens of spells, shattered as the rainbow light fell, and the mysterious man who defeated death was burned to ashes and disappeared into the empty night.

All that was left was a slightly cool rainy night, an ordinary airport, and many British wizards who had been fighting Voldemort for decades, as if they were experiencing a long nightmare.

Colleagues burst into a roar like a tsunami, ignoring the unconscious and bound Death Eaters, and rushed to hug each other to celebrate. After sixteen years, they once again experienced the joy of Voldemort's fall. This deafening cheering and the patter of raindrops intertwined and spread, making Scrimgeour a little dazed.

He felt a figure approaching, and turned around to see that the person in charge of this operation of the Magical Congress of the United States of America had come to his side at some point. This Samuel G. Kohaug was a powerful figure in the Magical Congress and a candidate for the next president of the Magical Congress. At this moment, his expression was a little dazed, and he looked at the airport that had been restored to its original state and murmured in a low voice:
"Are all wizard duels over there of this scale?"

"This is no ordinary wizard duel."

"To be honest, I never understood why you people in the Ministry of Magic could never trust Dumbledore and even excluded this legendary wizard at the International Wizarding Conference. Now I understand a little bit. If such a powerful wizard were in my country, I would not be at ease."

Scrimgeour was stunned for a moment, then replied dryly, "We don't distrust Dumbledore. He has been doing his job as the headmaster conscientiously over the years. He has no ambitions and has not done anything to harm the Ministry of Magic."

"You mean Dumbledore is old?"

"..."

"If I'm not mistaken, the one who just fought the mysterious... Voldemort was a young wizard." Colehaug smiled mischievously, "After tonight, the Ministry of Magic will have to live in fear again. According to my estimate, this period will last for a hundred years."

Scrimgeour's expression was rigid.

……

The terminal corridors are brightly lit.

The falling raindrops splashed on the glass of the floor-to-ceiling windows, gathering together and flowing down in streams.

Loren sat on a chair in the VIP lounge. The headlights of the ground handling vehicle in the distance were still flashing, illuminating the road near the apron. The airport had returned to its original order. The passengers and staff who had been tricked by the American Aurors into hiding in the secret room returned to their original positions. A few of the smarter No-Majs were given fake memory charms, hoping that it would not affect their brains.

Voldemort was completely eliminated, and the Death Eaters were basically captured. The wizarding world was about to usher in a period of rapid development and peace. However, when he saw the Aurors hiding among the Muggles, holding cans of beer and celebrating with each other, it was as if the familiar world suddenly became unfamiliar, and he felt lost and didn't know where to start. Six years ago, when he was at the alpine ranch, it was also about summer when he received the Hogwarts acceptance letter from Professor McGonagall in the mountains.

He knew very early that Voldemort would be resurrected and the Death Eaters would stir up unrest again. He also knew that all of Voldemort's Horcruxes would be destroyed and he would eventually die at the hands of Dumbledore. The Battle of Hogwarts, in which almost all wizards participated, heralded the arrival of peace.

Time and space seemed to be distorted and changed. The final battle did not take place in Hogwarts, not in the Ministry of Magic, and not even in the UK. Instead, it was inexplicably set at the New York airport... There was always a feeling of trance and surprise.

"What are you thinking about, the warrior who defeated the devil, sitting here?"

A familiar voice came from beside me, followed by a faint fragrance.

All the trance and unreality disappeared instantly, and Loren couldn't help but smile: "What about you? Aren't you listening in on the extradition negotiations between the Ministry of Magic and the Magical Congress? How did you find yourself here?"

"There is no point in sitting in on the trial. There is almost no dispute between the two sides."

Hermione sat down next to him, her shoulder against his, exchanging body temperature with him: "Is Voldemort really destroyed? He won't pop up again, right?"

"I think so."

"What about Harry, how is he?"

"He was taken away by Fox. He should be lying unconscious in some bed, talking to his mother."

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"Mrs. Potter?"

"Harry was hit by the Killing Curse, and there is a hazy illusion between life and death..."

"I see."

Hermione tilted her head and moved closer to him, as if trying to read his thoughts from her eyes. The light from the window was reflected in her eyes, and her eyes were slightly bright: "You still haven't answered my question. What were you thinking about just now? You seem to be worried about something."

"Only a little bit. I haven't figured out how to say it yet."

"Then tell me when you've made up your mind."

"Ah."

Loren took her hand, interlocked their fingers, and stared into the distance in a daze.

The world is peaceful under the night sky, as if victory has been won. In fact, it is like a certain cycle in the long history, with ups and downs. A period of peace will be followed by a new crisis. In the past, people always thought that this was something that Dumbledore and others worried about, or the son of prophecy like Harry. Now that Voldemort's problem has been solved, he needs to worry about the more distant future.

Without Voldemort, I feel a little regretful.

"Woo..."

In the distant sky, a thunderbird rushed into the sea of ​​clouds, spread its huge and wide wings, suddenly rose high, then turned around and plunged into the boundless sea of ​​clouds. It was the thunderbird summoned by the Magical Congress of the United States of America, and it helped bring today's rain.

The thunderbird flew away, the clouds dispersed, and the drizzle gradually stopped.

On the rooftop opposite stood a white-bearded old man, who looked vaguely like Rolf. He looked at the soaring Thunderbird with a smile on his face, then turned around and asked, "Niedander, are you sure that no wizard has seen a white basilisk?"

"I'm sure." Niedander looked helpless. He was an expert on magical creatures in the Magical Congress of the United States of America and was responsible for liaising with Mr. Scamander. After all, no wizard in the Congress could command the Thunderbird.

"it's a pity……"

Newt Scamander was disappointed.

In the past, when the Death Eaters and Aurors fought, there were always basilisks. This time, I specially prepared a lot of mandrakes, but it seems that I can only ask the Magical Congress of the United States for reimbursement. What excuse should I use? Just say that it is food for Thunderbirds. Anyway, these guys don’t understand Thunderbirds, and they look stupid.

……

It was late at night, with only a few hours left until dawn.

“They should still be busy.”

Loren stretched and yawned: "I'm sleepy, let's go and find a place to rest."

Hermione looked him in the eyes, her expression calm: "Return to Ilvermorny Castle."

"It's so late, I don't want to climb the mountain."

"The magic that blocks Apparition can't block you. You don't have to climb."

"I don't understand what you're saying..." Loren took her hand and walked out.

There are hotels everywhere outside the airport. Choose one with a well-designed signboard, with all the light tubes that can be lit up, and a small fountain in front of the door that sprays water. It looks very high-end.

The two left the airport and came to the hotel next door. The lobby was brightly lit and the waiters in the front hall were all beauties in uniforms with big wavy blonde hair, but Loren didn't look away.

"How can I help you?"

"Is there any room left?"

"Yes, what kind of room do you need?"

"Couples' suite."

"Okay, here are your room cards."

"..."

Hermione turned around and looked silently at Loren beside her.

Loren pursed his lips, but still couldn't help but grin and cleared his throat in a serious manner: "It's so late, I don't want to trouble others. It's more convenient to get one room than two rooms, and it can also save money, don't you think?"

"I don't think so."

Hermione rolled her eyes and turned to walk back to her room.

(End of this chapter)