Harry Potter and the Secret Treasures - H.P.S.T Chapter 1634: Voldemort, Who Has Gone Farther Than Anyone Else

Voldemort paced among the corpses, gradually calming down.

That Weasley boy — he would be Voldemort’s trump card.

Voldemort was certain of it, not merely because the boy carried one of his Horcruxes within him.

He needed the boy’s help to complete a far greater task, the most crucial step on his path to true immortality.

Aside from the Elder Wand, he still required another item to finish that spell, and the boy would help bring it to him…

Voldemort grew calmer at the thought. Yes — the situation was still under his control.

Regardless of whether the two boys truly knew something, or whether Dumbledore had left behind any plan, one thing was certain: the two Horcruxes in his possession had not yet been destroyed.

Even if one of them were ultimately to be sacrificed, that too would be by his own choosing — for to complete the final Dark Magic, Voldemort would have to make that sacrifice. In the name of the evil god, he would transform himself into a new deity; when the statue was at last destroyed, that would be the moment of his true greatness.

As for the other Horcruxes, Voldemort was confident they were still intact.

But to be sure, to be utterly sure, he must return to each of his hiding places, he must redouble protection around each of his Horcruxes. … A job that he must undertake alone; second only to the search for the Elder Wand and that magical object.

Before truly achieving immortality, the Horcruxes were Voldemort’s greatest reliance, and he couldn’t afford any negligence or mistakes.

Voldemort knew the difficulty and madness of the magic he sought to accomplish, and he wasn’t completely sure.

Now that Dumbledore had been killed, the trouble caused by the two boys wouldn’t stop him. Ahead of him lay an even greater challenge.

Voldemort also knew that his great ancestor, Salazar Slytherin, seemed to have left behind some magic or clue to stop him. Just as Slytherin had left behind the magic for becoming a god, so too had he left behind the method for defeating such an evil god. That, Voldemort understood, was why the two boys had entered Gringotts Vault One. But Voldemort didn’t care. He was confident that when he truly became a god, he would be unbeatable.

He would become powerful, even more powerful than the evil god that Herpo the Foul had become.

Just like the Horcruxes he had created, Herpo the Foul had invented them but ultimately only dared to create one. He, Lord Voldemort, had created seven. He had intentionally split his soul seven times, something no other Dark wizard could even dream of. He had advanced further on the path to immortality than any wizard before him. He had accomplished unprecedented Dark magic, and he could still do it.

When he became a god, he would be far more powerful than Herpo’s pitiful half-finished form.

Even his great ancestor would be no match for him.

Voldemort was certain of this. Now it was a race against time to see who could be faster.

Despite the loss of two Horcruxes, Voldemort still had the upper hand in this battle.

He was thinking, and Harry was trying hard to think as well.

Or rather, to be more precise, he was concentrating on sensing Voldemort’s thoughts.

Harry could not fully perceive his thoughts, even though he was, at that moment, inside Voldemort’s head.

As Voldemort’s emotions fluctuated, only fragmented snippets of thought reached him intermittently.

Voldemort seemed to be worried about his Horcruxes; Harry could sense that he was thinking about them; and then his thoughts turned to the statue of the evil god.   

Yes, that statue was a Horcrux, too!

Harry had heard Evan talk about it, so he already knew that much.

But what startled him was that Voldemort’s mind soon turned to another Horcrux, one different from all the others, one that had been made from something belonging to Godric Gryffindor himself, and it seemed that someone was currently carrying it.

That couldn’t be right. The only items left by Gryffindor were his sword and scabbard, and Voldemort had not made a Horcrux out of them.

Could it be that Voldemort had found some other Gryffindor item and made it into a Horcrux? If so, what was it?

And who was currently carrying that Horcrux?

Harry tried harder to sense more, but received no clear information.

Then, even more shocking images flashed through Voldemort’s mind, and Harry understood his ambition.

He wanted to become that creature — the one called the evil god — and he was about to succeed!

Evan had mentioned before that Voldemort harbored such an idea, but Harry had never truly grasped what it meant, nor how powerful that so-called god actually was, having never faced it directly. That was until that night in Azkaban, when he saw the brain of the evil being, transformed from the once-Dark wizard Herpo the Foul.

Seeing the monster with his own eyes, Harry was deeply shocked. Even the Dementors, the creatures he once feared most, were nothing more than creations of that being.

Along with his horror, Harry gained a more vivid understanding of what Voldemort sought to become.

To him, the thought of transforming into such a horrific creature was pure madness.

He had never imagined that Voldemort could actually entertain such a mad idea.

As Voldemort’s turbulent emotions gradually calmed, Harry’s vision began to waver.

Harry’s connection with Voldemort was about to be severed, and he had to concentrate even more to hold onto it.

Just then, a soft sound of footsteps approached the door.

Voldemort, startled, turned his red eyes towards the door, and Harry looked there too.

The scene before him swayed more and more violently. He could no longer discern the intruder’s features, only a dark shadow. The intruder was completely shrouded in a black cloak, seeming to blend into the darkness of the room, all light seeming to bend around her.

This was a profound form of Dark Magic, one Harry had once seen performed by Elaine’s uncle, Caresius.

Although her features were unclear, he immediately recognized the intruder’s identity.

Not a Death Eater, but that woman, the Dark witch!

Harry had seen her before, in that room in the Department of Mysteries at the Ministry of Magic, and she had appeared exactly like this then, too.

“The bodies of wizards and goblins — excellent magical material,” she said in a low, raspy voice, surveying the corpses in the room.

“They paid for their stupidity!” Voldemort’s voice was still icy, devoid of any warmth. He lifted his wand to his chest. “I hope you have brought good news; otherwise you’ll soon learn the consequences of appearing before Voldemort at this moment. Tell me — have you found that incantation?”

Translating_Wizard

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