Harry Potter and the Secret Treasures - H.P.S.T Chapter 1730: Ron's Crushing Strike

“I don’t know what to do,” Ron said in a panic.

“Use any magic you can think of, anything at all. This is your soul, as long as…” His voice cut off abruptly as a beam of green light shot from the tip of the taller Riddle’s wand, striking him squarely between the eyebrows.

His eyes stared blankly ahead, filled with resentment. His expression froze, his pale face drained of color, and he collapsed backward, his body disintegrating.

Ron couldn’t believe it. The powerful Riddle was dead just like that!

Then again, considering that the one who killed him was also a Riddle, perhaps it wasn’t all that surprising.

Had he really just… died?

The thought barely had time to form before Ron lost the leisure to dwell on it. His body began to tremble as he saw the Riddle with the cruel smile turn towards him, green magical light gathering at the tip of his wand.

“The nuisance is finally gone. Now it’s your turn, Ron,” Riddle said with unsettling civility.

He was smiling, but there was nothing pleasant about it.

“I wanted to deal with you long ago, but you hid yourself. This being your soul, it was truly hard to find you when you were intent on hiding. Whatever I said, you wouldn’t listen. I should thank that other me — he dragged you out and allowed us to meet like this.”

“You were the one who spoke to me before?” Ron asked.

“Yes, I was trying to lure you out,” Riddle smiled, raising his wand. “Now then, goodbye, Ron. I’ll make good use of your body, drain your life force, and thank you properly for everything you’ve contributed to Lord Voldemort!”

A green light flashed, but it didn’t hit Ron. His body vanished, Apparating to the side, the curse missing and falling to the ground.

Ron stared blankly at Riddle, as if he understood something.

He hadn’t cast a spell. He hadn’t prepared an Apparition. He had simply thought about dodging the Killing Curse — and his body had moved.

He had indeed Apparated, but only because he wanted to.

Ron seemed to understand why this place was considered his domain, why he was its master, and why Riddle had allowed him to use any magic he could think of — anything at all. It was because he could use any spell he could conceive of.

This was his home turf!

Empowered by his soul, every force here belonged to him.

In other words, no matter what magic he used, it would succeed.

Excitement and exhilaration surged through him. Ron immediately swung his wand towards Riddle, his mind filled with a single thought —

Kill him.

He would use the Avada Kedavra!

The thought had barely formed when a green spell appeared, shooting towards Riddle.

Riddle’s smile vanished, and he disappeared instantly, dodging Ron’s Killing Curse.

He rapidly chanted an incantation, unleashing Fiendfyre. Riddle swung his wand, fully aware that he had to kill Ron quickly and end the battle before Ron truly adapted to the power of his soul; otherwise, he had no chance of winning.

The moment Ron learned how to wield his own power, the balance of the battle had already begun to turn.

The Fiendfyre burned ever more fiercely, nearly consuming the entire platform. The flames twisted into terrifying creatures that closed in on Ron from all directions.

In a panic, Ron tried to extinguish the Fiendfyre — but simply thinking about putting it out wasn’t enough.

He didn’t know how to counter the Fiendfyre magic; soul power couldn’t be conjured out of nothing.

As the Fiendfyre roared, the flame-formed beasts shrieked and lunged. Riddle’s relentless attacks kept coming, shrinking Ron’s room to dodge with every second.   

This couldn’t go on. Ron racked his brains for the most powerful spells he knew. He immediately remembered a spell Evan had used before — a Transfiguration. He hurriedly tried to cast it.

With a rumbling sound, the ground rapidly rose, lifting Ron upwards.

Amidst the deafening roar, a colossal stone giant emerged from the ground, rising higher and higher — more than a hundred feet tall.

Ron sat atop the stone giant’s head. As it rocked back and forth, Riddle and the frightening monsters transformed by Fiendfyre beneath him became nothing more than small black dots, no longer able to pose any threat.

With a tremendous crash, Ron directed the stone giant to stomp down towards Riddle.

Fiendfyre, having lost its target, began to backfire on Riddle.

Ron controlled the stone’s transformations to limit the attack on Riddle. He had never used Transfiguration so effortlessly before; whatever form he imagined, the stone obeyed, changing accordingly.

It was a sensation of absolute control. With every moment, Ron grew more skilled.

For the first time in his life, he felt power — truly and unmistakably.

“So this is what it feels like to wield power?” Ron waved his hand, and dozens of spells formed in the air, hurtling towards Riddle.

He gradually realized that movements weren’t even necessary anymore.

Where his thoughts went, power followed.

He controlled everything here. And Riddle below was nothing more than a perfect target.

Once Ron fully grasped how to wield his soul power, an astonishing spectacle unfolded. Magic poured forth like a raging blizzard, carrying overwhelming force as it swept down upon Riddle.

Riddle had nowhere to hide; he took the hits head-on. Under the dense storm of spells, his form quickly became battered and broken, his presence growing weaker and weaker.

No matter how powerful Riddle was, within Ron’s soul, he was no match for Ron.

If the remainder of the battle needed a single description, utter crushing defeat would be the most fitting.

Ron had experienced firsthand what it felt like to use magic to smash Voldemort!

Riddle lay defeated on the ground — so easily it was almost unbelievable.

Even though Riddle was only a soul fragment without a true physical body, under such terrifying magical assault his soul power was rapidly exhausted, with no way to replenish it.

Tom Riddle, the mighty Tom Riddle!

The young Voldemort!

Gone in such humiliation!

Ron destroyed Voldemort’s Horcrux, but didn’t stop, continuing to cast spell after spell. He had never felt such unrestrained satisfaction in his life.

Then, just as he was enjoying it most, a massive wave of dizziness surged through him. An unprecedented exhaustion followed. His vision blurred, the world before his eyes beginning to fade.

Before Ron could react, everything went black, and he lost consciousness, plunging straight down from the stone giant.

……………………………………………………….…

Inside the room, many people were staring nervously at Ron on the bed, their expressions grave and tense.

When Harry and Hermione explained that the fifteen-year-old Riddle might be able to save Ron and resolve Voldemort’s Horcrux magic, the entire Weasley family and the members of the Order of the Phoenix still at Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place, had all rushed over. Everyone wanted to know what was happening.

In the end, because there were simply too many people, only Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Bill, Fleur, Ginny, Harry, Hermione, Sirius, and a few others remained in the room.

Translating_Wizard

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