Buzz!
Chaotic and disordered magic surged outward as Grindelwald's figure disintegrated into a single point of light, slowly fading into nothingness.
At that moment, Credence stood frozen, watching in disbelief.
Grindelwald—his lifelong enemy—was gone.
He had witnessed it with his own eyes, yet his mind refused to accept it.
No matter how powerful Lockhart was, even if he could obliterate Voldemort in a single strike—
Grindelwald would never simply commit suicide.
And yet, all of his magic had been released in a wild, uncontrolled storm, leaving behind undeniable proof.
Grindelwald was dead.
And he had taken his own life.
Confusion flickered in Credence's eyes.
Reason told him it was impossible—
Reality told him otherwise.
Beside him, Lockhart seemed to sense his turmoil. He placed a firm hand on Credence's shoulder, but said nothing.
Though he remained silent, Lockhart inwardly sighed.
As expected—once someone reaches the pinnacle of power, death is never truly the end.
Voldemort had his Horcruxes for resurrection.
Who was to say Grindelwald didn't have his own contingency?
These top-tier wizards always had backup plans.
Even while preparing to eliminate one another, they never forgot to secure an escape route for themselves.
Ironically, Lockhart momentarily forgot the fail-safes he had left behind in the Dream Realm.
As for why Grindelwald had chosen to take his own life so suddenly—
Lockhart already had an answer in his mind.
If you want to attract investment, you have to put on a show first.
Who would fund you if you didn't prove you were serious?
Just look at Voldemort—
Even Grindelwald himself wouldn't dare claim he could defeat this version of Voldemort.
At that moment—
"Teacher…"
Wanda's voice trembled as she closed her tear-streaked eyes.
"I… I feel like someone is watching me."
Her breathing was ragged, her hands shaking.
"It feels like an endless malice is surrounding me… stalking me…"
Hearing this, Lockhart stepped closer.
Gazing at Wanda's exhausted, panic-stricken face, he sighed.
With gentle movements, he wiped away the blood-red tears that stained her cheeks.
The warmth of his touch—so familiar—seemed to calm her.
The fear in her eyes dimmed slightly.
"Sleep, Wanda."
His voice was soft.
"When you wake up, everything will be back to normal."
As if enchanted by his words, Wanda's tense body gradually relaxed.
Her eyelids drooped.
Within moments, she fell into a deep slumber.
With a flick of his wrist, Lockhart sent her sleeping form into the safety of the Dream Realm.
Watching this, Ian took a step forward, concern evident in his eyes.
"Mentor… is Wanda going to be okay?"
Remy and Vera stood beside him, their expressions equally anxious.
They had trained together, fought together, lived together.
No matter what happened, they would always worry about one another.
Lockhart nodded calmly.
"Don't worry. Wanda will be fine—I'll make sure of it."
Though his words were steady, a sense of urgency pressed at the back of his mind.
Expelling world consciousness had come at a price.
You don't just kick someone out of their own home without consequences.
If it were him, wouldn't he be furious? Wouldn't he want revenge?
Apparently, in this Harry Potter world, Wanda had become the primary target.
The moment she revealed herself—
World consciousness had taken notice.
And now, all its malice was locked onto her.
More importantly—
Wanda wasn't originally from this world.
Though the system worked tirelessly to conceal her presence, she wasn't like Lockhart.
If world consciousness searched thoroughly enough, it would eventually uncover the truth.
After all—
No matter how well someone forged documents, created false histories, or built an identity…
A deep enough investigation would always find cracks.
And once she was exposed—
The consequences would be unpredictable.
Lockhart understood this all too well.
The world consciousness of Harry Potter never hesitated.
If the system hadn't been hiding his own presence—
He would have been the first target.
Instead, world consciousness had chosen to empower Voldemort as a countermeasure against him.
Because the system was shielding him, the world was blind to his exact whereabouts.
It could sense his interference—
But it couldn't pinpoint him.
And because world consciousness lacked a will of its own, it could only act on instinct.
Without a target, it couldn't attack directly.
It could only indirectly eliminate him—
Through Voldemort.
And yet—
Even that might not last much longer.
At that moment, a flood of warning messages flashed in Lockhart's mind.
[Warning: World consciousness is actively searching for the host. The system is being blocked…]
[Projected timeline: Estimated lock-on in 10 days.]
[Recommendation: Leave the Harry Potter world immediately.]
Lockhart sighed inwardly.
He had planned to stay in this world for ten years.
Now, he had ten days.
If he didn't leave soon—
Every ancient monster, every destroyer, every long-forgotten horror sealed within this world would be unleashed upon him alone.
Meanwhile, in France—Beauxbatons Academy of Magic
Deep beneath the school, in an ancient underground palace, silence reigned.
There were no people.
No sound.
Only darkness.
Then—
A faint, blood-red glow flickered to life.
A suffocating aura filled the chamber, primal and unsettling.
Suddenly—
A vast magic circle ignited in the center of the palace.
Scarlet runes glowed, pulsating like living veins.
Looking at them—
One would feel nauseated.
As though endless suffering and torment had been woven into their very essence.
The runes pulsed, feeding magic into the circle.
Slowly—
From the crimson mist, something began to emerge.
Tiny, invisible to the naked eye—
A Blood Abyss Worm.
Then another.
And another.
The mist thickened.
The magic circle's glow intensified.
And then—
A figure began to form.
From nothingness, white bones materialized.
Flesh wrapped around them.
But it was wrong—
Blood-red runes etched themselves into the surface of his skin.
Just looking at them would make one dizzy, as if staring into an abyss of madness and agony.
As time passed, the mist filled the underground palace.
Then—
His scarlet eyes snapped open.
A young Voldemort stood there—
Reborn.
And stronger than ever.
More powerful than before.
Even the Blood Abyss Insects had evolved.
He took a deep breath—
Power coursed through him.
A feral grin spread across his face.
Lockhart—
As long as I live…
You will be the one to die.
But first—
I have a puppet to deal with.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Support me at p@treon.com/goldengaruda and check out more chapter of this or more early access chapter of my other fanfic translation.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~