Harry Potter and the Secret Treasures - H.P.S.T Chapter 1727: Carrying a Voldemort

“When Sirius took us to the Centaur Temple, the magic Voldemort left behind attached itself to Ron, and it’s been influencing him all these years,” Harry said, taking a deep breath. “No wonder he’s so easily controlled. Mad-Eye said that Dark magic has a deep impact on Ron’s soul.”

In simple terms, it was like carrying a Voldemort around with you.

He might not speak directly to your mind, but he would constantly, subtly influence you without you even noticing.

Of course, Harry was carrying one too — but his had not been activated.

Ron’s had. Over the past few years, his soul’s immunity had been steadily weakening.

Therefore, he was especially vulnerable to Dark magic and its influence. The fact that Ron had held on until now — without falling completely into becoming an irredeemable Dark wizard or a madman — was proof of how strong he truly was.

Aside from Ron, no one else had ever endured Voldemort’s influence for so long.

He was a brave wizard, but now, saying any of that felt meaningless.

“There must be a way!” Hermione suddenly said.

“Sirius is right, we have to learn to accept reality —”

Harry stopped, hearing Hermione sobbing.

Beside him, Hermione kept wiping her eyes with her hands, crying harder and harder.

Even though she kept telling herself not to cry, seeing Ron lying there, utterly motionless, made the tears spill uncontrollably. Then she thought of Evan —

Over these past days, nighttime had become what she feared most.

Every night, she cried alone beneath the covers, missing Evan.

Hermione couldn’t remember who had said it before — perhaps at Bill and Fleur’s wedding, or when she heard the news of Lupin and Tonks’ marriage, or perhaps when someone else announced their engagement — that in times like these, when life was so uncertain, people cherished everything more intensely. They did the things they wanted to do, because they didn’t want to leave regrets behind. That was why so many people chose to get married.

Even if Voldemort killed them the very next day, at least they would leave no regrets.

Hermione felt foolish. She hadn’t said anything before. She hadn’t done anything.

Seeing Hermione cry so hard, Harry didn’t know how to comfort her.

He was also heartbroken, watching his best friend lie on the brink of death.

Was there anything more cruel than this in the world?

Harry looked back at Ron on the bed. His face was deathly pale, devoid of any color, and the sight made Harry feel even worse.

His gaze drifted onward, finally settling on several items on the bedside table.

A silver lighter caught his attention; it was the Deluminator Dumbledore had left to Ron.

Harry couldn’t understand why Dumbledore had left Ron this thing!

It hadn’t helped them in any way, just like the golden Snitch Dumbledore had left him. Could this Deluminator really be nothing more than a simple lighter, a souvenir?

What was the point? Harry thought irritably, reaching for the Deluminator. With a soft click, he flipped it open, and a white orb of light drifted out — the light source stored inside.

The white orb slowly floated in front of Harry.

“The Deluminator is quite ingenious. Dumbledore made it himself. Besides storing light, it seems to have the ability to guide those who have lost their way,” Hermione said, choking back tears.   

“But it can’t help Ron. No one can help Ron out of the darkness…”

“Perhaps, I can help the boy!” Just then, a lazy voice suddenly rang out beside Harry and Hermione.

In the dimly lit room, the two were startled to see a blurry figure of a young boy appear beside them. He had black hair, dark eyes, a pale face, and was strikingly handsome. He looked well-behaved, gentle, and polite.

And yet, both Harry and Hermione felt a chill crawl up their spines.

This was fifteen-year-old Tom Riddle, Voldemort in his youth.

“Where did you come from?” Harry asked immediately, his right hand moving to the wand at his waist.

“I’ve been following you all along, you just didn’t notice,” Riddle said.

“How could that be…”

“With all due respect, Harry Potter, although Dumbledore chose you, you truly lack talent when it comes to magic. You may become a competent wizard someday, but never a powerful one — because you lack sufficient curiosity,” Riddle said politely. “Dumbledore gave you the Golden Snitch, yet you never once thought to open it and see what was inside.”

“You were inside the Snitch?” Harry asked in surprise.

“To be precise, the Resurrection Stone was inside the Snitch.”

“But why?”

“Dumbledore probably believed I could help you in the end.” Riddle said meaningfully.

“How can you help me?” Harry pressed.

“That’s hard to say. Dumbledore always had his own plans, and he was never in the habit of sharing them,” Riddle replied. “But given the current situation, I might be able to help you save this boy.”

“You can save Ron?”

“Don’t look at me like that. I’m just saying it’s possible,” Riddle pointed at Ron. “There is a fragment of Voldemort’s soul within this boy — a Horcrux. It is attached to his soul and cannot be removed, because removing it would be equivalent to erasing the boy’s soul. In plain terms, it would mean killing him. But I understand how a Horcrux works. Its power is of the same origin as mine. I can enter this boy’s soul and remove it without harming the soul itself.”

“Are you serious?” Harry exclaimed excitedly. “Ron can be saved!”

He could hardly believe it; Ron could actually be saved! Even if the one offering salvation was Tom Riddle, Voldemort in his youth, it didn’t matter.

“Pay attention to my wording: I said it’s possible, not guaranteed,” Riddle continued. “In fact, in my view, failure is far more likely. I’ve never attempted such magic before, and the biggest problem is this: the soul fragment inside him split from the main soul later than I did. You understand what that means, don’t you?”

After a brief silence, Hermione spoke.

“That means… it’s stronger than you?”

“That’s right. Our minds are connected, but it possesses far more knowledge than I do, and its power surpasses mine. It knows everything about me, while I know only part of what it knows. This battle will be extremely difficult — there is almost no chance of victory,” Riddle said softly.

“We can help you, whatever you ask us to do!” Harry shouted. He wouldn’t give up this opportunity no matter what.

Even if, as Riddle said, the chances were slim, he was willing to try. This was their last chance, and like a drowning man grasping at a straw, Harry was willing to try. Even failure was better than standing by and watching Ron die.

Translating_Wizard

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