The atmosphere grew deathly silent. Whether it was Voldemort, the Death Eaters, or the Nordic team, at that moment, all eyes were fixed on the towering cloud-like structure in the center of the graveyard. It was as if a monstrous creature with three heads and six arms was about to be born from within.
At the center of the glowing tower, a dazzling crystal-like door appeared. From the void, a slender figure stepped out gracefully, seemingly walking on air. Clad in a voluminous black robe, with radiant golden hair and cool silver eyes, the youth descended from midair like a regal king upon his throne, stepping steadily toward the ground.
"Augustus!" Voldemort's crimson eyes revealed an unprecedented wariness. A faint smile followed. "What a pleasant evening. It has been three years since we last met, young friend. To attend my birthday celebration—such an esteemed guest gracing this humble place truly elevates the occasion."
A faint smile appeared on Augustus's lips. "A fine evening indeed. For Lord Voldemort to regain life anew—it must be fate's design and worth celebrating. I came all the way from Hogwarts to witness your grandeur. Walking the path of legends alone seems far too lonely. With you and Dumbledore as company, sharing the scenery and honing truth and skill, it might even be a fascinating journey."
Voldemort sighed lightly. "On the path to immortality, I've traveled farther than anyone. Yet, in hindsight, perhaps I've been too preoccupied, neglecting the perseverance needed for exploring the eternal truths of magic. Compared to you, Dumbledore and I fall short."
Augustus casually waved his hand. "In any era, reaching the realm of legends comes with unparalleled gifts and talent. There's no need for such modesty, my lord."
Voldemort chuckled bitterly. "Talent is but an illusion, like the moon reflected in water or flowers in a mirror. This world is full of gifted individuals, but how many persevere in chasing their dreams?" He paused momentarily before his tone shifted. "As for your intentions tonight, I believe I can guess. This so-called golden boy, so celebrated by the world, is honored to warrant your personal presence. I don't mind granting you a favor. But before that, I must resolve an unfinished duel.
"Voldemort's life has been one of triumph, never submitting to anyone. But to have been defeated by a charlatan—it leaves a scar on my heart. Tonight, I must personally erase the shame of these fifteen years."
"Now, Potter," Voldemort said, turning to Harry. "Raise your wand."
Harry, trembling with fear, raised his wand and glanced at Augustus, seeking help.
"Face forward," Voldemort commanded impatiently, waving his wand. "Your opponent is me now!"
"Kneel. Imperio!" Voldemort's wand pointed at Harry, his gaze cold and ruthless.
Harry immediately felt his thoughts slipping away. For the third time in his life, he experienced this eerie sensation—how peaceful it was not to think! He felt as if he were floating, dreaming.
"Kneel," a soft voice urged in his ear.
No, came a stronger voice from the depths of his mind. I won't.
"I won't," Harry shouted. The words burst from his lips and echoed through the graveyard. The dreamlike state vanished abruptly, as if a bucket of cold water had been poured over him.
Augustus nodded slightly, impressed. Harry's will was surprisingly strong. To resist the Imperius Curse, even among adult wizards, was a rare feat.
"You refuse?" Voldemort said softly. "You won't kneel? Fine. Let me make you more compliant. Crucio!"
"Expelliarmus!" Harry suddenly shouted, summoning every ounce of courage, with a determination born of desperation.
A jet of purple light shot from Voldemort's wand, while a red light erupted from Harry's. The two beams collided in midair, and suddenly Harry's wand vibrated violently in his hand, as though electrified. He gripped it tightly, unable to let go even if he wanted to. A thin golden thread connected the two wands, neither red nor purple, but a radiant gold.
Harry stared in astonishment at the thread and then at Voldemort's pale, slender fingers clutching his trembling wand.
The golden thread linking Harry and Voldemort's wands suddenly split apart, but the wands remained tightly connected. Above them, a thousand golden arcs of light crisscrossed and intertwined, forming a glowing dome, a cage of light. The Death Eaters gathered outside the cage, their voices eerily muffled.
"Priori Incantatem?" Augustus murmured, recalling a magical effect he had once read about, his eyes filled with wonder. If Harry's wand core was indeed identical to Voldemort's, then this duel was undoubtedly a grave error. Two wands sharing the same core should never meet in battle.
A celestial melody rang through the air, emanating from the vibrating strands of the golden light web surrounding Harry and Voldemort. Harry recognized the sound. Though he had only heard it once before, he knew it was the song of a phoenix.
A bead of light trembled, hovering mere inches from the tip of Voldemort's wand. Harry, unsure why, focused all his energy on forcing the bead of light toward Voldemort's wand tip… slowly… slowly… the bead crept along the golden thread, trembled for a moment, and finally merged with the wand.
Augustus activated his mystical eye, detecting the brilliance of a legendary magical phenomenon. Among countless magical effects, Priori Incantatem ranked among the rarest.
Suddenly, ghostly forms began to emerge from Voldemort's wand, starting with an old man Harry had only seen in dreams. A woman followed—a smoke-gray figure. Then another: her ghostly form landed gracefully, her gaze falling on Harry.
Bertha Jorkins's spirit stood among them, wide-eyed, witnessing the scene.
A long-haired woman's spirit appeared next, mirroring Bertha's descent. Harry's gaze locked onto her face—it was his mother. His arms trembled violently as he gripped his wand.
"Your father is coming…" she said softly. "He wants to see you… It'll be alright… hold on…"
And then he appeared. First his head, then his body—a tall, messy-haired man. James Potter's spirit rose from Voldemort's wand, landing beside his wife and standing upright.
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