Harry Potter and the Secret Treasures - H.P.S.T Chapter 1556: Voldemort Transformed

The black mist swirling around Voldemort’s body churned violently. After devouring the spells cast by Evan and Sirius, it suddenly surged upward, closing in around Sirius as he fell from the sky.

Enshrouded by the fog, Sirius could no longer Apparate, nor could he use any other magic. He struggled within the black mist, pain twisting his features, but in moments he could no longer resist.

Meanwhile, another portion of the mist split off and attacked Evan.

The rolling fog blended seamlessly with the night, vast and endless.

It took the shape of a skull, then morphed into a giant serpent with its jaws wide open, as if to swallow Evan whole.

“This spell…” Evan had no time to think. He swerved his broom, circling rapidly around Voldemort to evade the attack, shooting upward past the windows of Muggle buildings. He could hear Voldemort’s bone-chilling laughter, and behind him, the deadly threat that pursued him without pause.

The black mist shifted again, like a surging tidal wave, rushing at him from all directions.

Gripping his Firebolt in his left hand, Evan dodged at top speed — it was, without doubt, the best flying he had ever done in his life.

The scene before him swirled and whirled so fast he felt he might pass out.

Forcing himself to stay focused, Evan caught sight of Mad-Eye Moody lying motionless on a ledge.

He lay there motionless, and it was impossible to tell if he was unconscious or dead.

Anxiety gnawed at him — Moody, Sirius, Ron — if more Death Eaters appeared while this fight dragged on, it would be disastrous.

Glancing back, he saw that everything around Voldemort had been swallowed into pure darkness.

This darkness, woven from black mist, was far deeper than the natural night — like a black hole that devoured all light, yet roiled and twisted like a hurricane.

The magic Voldemort was using was strange, unlike any Dark magic Evan remembered.

This black mist was more powerful than any Dark magic he had ever known.

There was no more time to waste. Whatever this magic was, Evan decided to take his shot.

He stretched his right hand, gripping the wand, back, and golden sparks emanated from the tip.

The light grew brighter and brighter, golden flames burning and leaving a blazing trail behind Evan.

The fire was not consumed by the black mist — it burned on, the golden trail converging, coalescing into a single fireball.

It radiated a blazing heat, the air around it trembling and crackling as though it, too, had caught fire.

With a sweep of his wand, Evan sent the massive fireball roaring toward Voldemort.

He followed in its wake, banking sharply toward Voldemort. By the glow of the golden flames, Evan saw his snake-like, pale, and terrifying face, those crimson eyes locked on him. Fixing his gaze on those eyes, Evan sped forward — faster and faster, and faster still.

As Evan neared Voldemort and the churning black mist, he flicked his wand upward. The fireball exploded with a deafening blast.

The world shuddered. Buildings trembled, the air seemed to twist, and the shockwave tore through the darkness, ripping apart the mist that clung to Voldemort like a shroud.

“Weak magic. Pitiful flames. Evan Mason — your power is nothing beside mine. All you do is flail before the inevitable!”

Voldemort’s icy voice rang out again. Black mist surged in from all sides, encircling Evan, leaving him with nowhere to escape.

“Surrender the Twin Serpents Staff, and I will spare your life. Submit to me, and I will grant you greater power, the true understanding of magic.”

As the black mist surged forward, Voldemort’s voice echoed directly into Evan’s mind.

The moment he was surrounded, every hair on his body stood on end, and an unprecedented sense of creeping terror surged through him.   

And then he saw it — through the roiling blackness — something worse than Voldemort. A glimpse of a warped, alien silhouette: the shadow of an evil god!

No doubt. No mistaking it. Even a fleeting sight of that twisted shape sent a wave of frost through his veins.

His magic was bleeding away — fast. This would be his last spell.

If it failed, there would be nothing left but death!

“Expecto Patronum!” Evan shouted, raising his wand.

His Patronus burst from the tip of his wand, its silver radiance scattering more of the black mist as it charged straight toward Voldemort.

The light dispelled the mist. Strength flooded back into Evan. He saw Voldemort raising his wand, ready to strike —

But Evan gave him no chance. Right after casting the Patronus Charm, he swung his wand forward, gathering the lingering flames. They merged once more into a blazing line that wound tightly around Voldemort, golden fire climbing upward to engulf him.

The next moment, Voldemort was struck by the Patronus, and Evan heard a sharp, piercing cry.

The sound emanating from Voldemort, from his left hand, wasn’t human, but rather like a cat’s shrill wail in the dead of night.

“Evan Mason…”

Evan couldn’t catch the rest of what Voldemort said. The oppressive darkness was rapidly dissolving, and Sirius and Ron were both plummeting from the air.

He cast a Levitation Charm, and they began to drift gently downward. Sirius was still conscious. Evan flew over to his side.

“Are you all right, Sirius?”

“I’m fine. Get out of here, Evan!” he gasped, flicking his wand upward. “Accio broom!”

The broom flew toward him, and he mounted it.

“You take Ron, I’ll go find Moody,” said Evan, looking up.

Voldemort seemed to be caught in some kind of trouble. The golden flames that could burn through anything had done him no harm, but he still couldn’t deal with Evan’s Patronus, locked in a fierce struggle with it.

Voldemort’s body was now connected to the evil god; he had undergone an evil god-like transformation. So naturally, the Patronus would harm him.

However, hoping to destroy Voldemort with this power was undoubtedly wishful thinking. A black mist swirled, and the Patronus’s light dimmed.

Evan flew to the building’s platform at top speed, grabbed Mad-Eye Moody’s arm, and Disapparated on the spot.

In the blink of an eye, they reappeared on the steps of Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place, the rendezvous point he’d arranged earlier with Sirius.

Looking around at the dilapidated houses and scattered garbage on the ground, Evan breathed a sigh of relief.

He felt a burning pain all over his body, weakened by the drain on his magical power.

Those few spells hadn’t consumed him as much, but the moment he was enveloped by the black mist had consumed most of his magical power.

It felt like falling into an icy cave: horrible, cold, dark, and Voldemort’s voice could be heard inside his head.

It was as if he had entered Evan’s body, able to see everything in his mind.

The feeling was truly terrifying!

Translating_Wizard

Hey there! Translating_Wizard here! Chapter 1781 just dropped on Patreon! If you've enjoyed reading and want to read more, I'd greatly appreciate your support ♡

•