It seemed that Voldemort had finally made up his mind because he began talking again.
Dumbledore's face smiled crookedly, and Harry had to admit that it was very creepy.
'That expression shouldn't ever be on the old man's face.'
That brought into question whether there was anything of the old man left in his body anymore. Harry tried to search with his senses if, behind Voldemort's soul, there was anything left of Dumbledore.
"Now, now, Harry. We don't want any of that here, do we?" the old man said quickly, and Harry felt a sort of magical forcefield surround him.
'Huh. A soul shield? That's intriguing,' Harry thought whilst he tried grasping how that particular piece of magic worked.
It wouldn't stop anything material from going through, nor would it stop spells. However, it somehow managed to stop his senses from penetrating inside it, and would stop most soul attacks from passing through.
'Maybe if I try pushing my magic harder, I can break through,' he mused, but wisely chose not to act with haste. After all, Voldemort was right. He didn't want to fight the Dark Lord… yet.
"Right, where were we before you interrupted me so rudely. Seriously, my boy, one would think that you weren't taught any better," Voldemort said with an air of superiority, trying and failing to act like Dumbledore.
'I bet if he imagined having a stick up in his ass, he would have done a lot better.'
Seeing as Harry didn't have anything to say back, Voldemort continued this monologue; probably the happier for it.
"There are magicks, boy, which are far beyond your little mind—magicks that you apparently know of but can't possibly comprehend and that make you immortal. I should not digress, though. I had a most significant item hidden away in my family's home, and the old man, the hypocrite that he was, tried to steal from me," he said and glanced at Harry.
Harry leaned forward, very interested in what was going to be said.
After all, if the evil megalomaniac was going to voluntarily give away anything that might help him find and destroy his horcruxes, Harry would be nothing short of thankful.
'Why is the bastard smiling?'
Seemingly satisfied, Voldemort continued talking.
"As I was saying, Dumbledore raided my ancestral home and stole one of my possessions. The old fool, though, had the audacity to wear my ring—MY RING—and called out a name. I don't understand what he hoped to achieve by doing that, but it gave me an opportunity to hijack his body. If he had taken off the ring as soon as I started attacking his soul, which I honestly expected, he'd have easily managed to fend me off. As we can both attest to, here and now, the old man did no such thing," he finished melodramatically.
Harry was intrigued.
Voldemort might think that Dumbledore had lost his marbles all he wanted, but Harry knew the man hadn't totally gone off his rocker just yet.
'Funny. There's probably something about the ring that this bastard doesn't know about,' he thought, amused, and wondered whether he could see this ring that managed to bring the Dark Lord back to life.
Without too much thought, Harry glanced at Dumbledore's hands and sure enough, there was a new ring there.
"Is that the ring?" he asked Voldemort, feeling like the man wouldn't lie needlessly, and would probably boast about it as well.
"Yes. It doesn't look threatening, does it?" he answered, looking at it wistfully.
Getting the confirmation that he wanted, Harry felt like doing something stupid.
'Ah, to hell with it. It's surprising, really, that we managed to talk civilly as much as we did anyway,' he thought and opened his mouth to say something, before immediately flaring his magic and attacking Voldemort's soul shield.
There was a gong-like bang, and sure enough, in the next moment, the shield fell.
Voldemort probably thought that Harry wouldn't be able to penetrate the shield, not so fast, at least, and he was caught off guard. He was also right in thinking so, but Harry had long since managed to overanalyse and learn the spell and its single weak spot.
As soon as the shield fell, Harry pushed his senses towards the ring on Dumbledore's ring finger.
He wasn't surprised when he found a withering curse, amongst many more protections, having been cast on the ring.
At first, he thought that the Dark Lord was right, and Dumbledore had gone insane, what with mumbling random names for no reason.
However, he suddenly felt a chill run down his spine.
For an instance, he feared that Death had come to the mortal world again.
Thankfully, after a quick glance at his surroundings—with magic—he realised that wasn't the case.
By the time Voldemort finally started reacting, he managed to find the source of that dreadful, and oddly familiar, feeling.
It sang to him, and he felt it calling for a master.
There was something else to it, as well…
When Harry finally focused all of his attention on the black stone that adorned the piece of metal, something clicked in his head.
He realised that the song he was hearing wasn't just your simple song… no.
The first thing he noted was that there were some kind of lyrics. 'Someone is singing. '
'Wait. It's not just one person,' he realised as he heard more and more of the song.
At first, Harry thought it was just two people… then four…
By the time Voldemort raised his wand and sent a spell at Harry's direction, he realised just who was singing to him.
'A hundred billion human souls.'
Every person who has ever died.
Trying his best to not let the horror he felt show, Harry allowed himself a fraction of a second to analyse the Dark Lord's spell and then batted it away.
Needless to say, more spells were already flying in his direction.
'A bone-breaker, blood-boiling curse, and two Avada Kedavras,' Harry counted.
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Chapter 131: It's Finally Over