Chapter 181 - Chapter 181 - What the Hell is This?

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Voldemort was dead—at least, that's what the entire British magical world believed. This time, it seemed he was truly, completely dead.

After a round of discussion between Dumbledore and the others, Sirius flung Voldemort's body at the gates of the Ministry of Magic. The entire magical community was thrown into a frenzy.

Not to mention, a large number of Death Eaters had surrendered.

It was hard to believe that the Dark Lord—who had supposedly died twelve years ago—had come back.

Even more shocking was that he had been discovered by Dumbledore the very night he returned.

When the Ministry officials arrived at the battlefield the next day, they were completely horrified by the scene. Many who witnessed it later swore they'd never eat barbecue or similar dishes again.

At least for the time being, they couldn't stomach it.

Public opinion in the British magical world exploded following Voldemort's brief return and sudden downfall. News outlets published bizarre stories like mushrooms sprouting after a rainstorm.

The Daily Prophet especially stirred controversy with headlines like: "Voldemort Is Immortal—He Failed This Time, But What About the Next?"

Frankly, the idea was terrifying, and the editor-in-chief was promptly "invited for tea" by Cornelius Fudge himself.

Due to that article, the magical community began losing trust in the Ministry of Magic—particularly in Minister Fudge's leadership.

The pressure on Fudge was immense. Even uncovering the corpse of Barty Crouch Jr. was of no use.

Many wizards began to believe that Fudge would stop at nothing to crush his political rivals. After all, Barty Crouch Sr. had suffered enough disgrace. Though his son had committed heinous crimes, he was already dead. Was it really necessary to drag his name through the mud just to shift attention?

Most importantly, Professor Dumbledore stepped forward. He openly questioned the Ministry's competency and even stated that he "would not rule out running for Minister if things continued this way."

The British magical world had fallen into chaos—albeit a chaos still under control.

But it was clear: as Fudge's approval ratings plummeted, Dumbledore's chances of taking over were on the rise.

All of this, however, had little to do with Noah—especially since he had already left after completing his third year.

Even if he hadn't, it wouldn't have mattered whether McGonagall or Snape became headmaster.

The plot itself had been completely derailed by Noah, and he was now simply enjoying the moment.

From the way things had gone last summer, life in Kamar-Taj wasn't going to be easy—but if he wanted comfort in the future, he had to endure it now.

That said, while enjoying his last days at Hogwarts, Noah made sure to properly "finish off" Voldemort.

Voldemort had died at the hands of Professor Snape's magic—a death filled with suffering. Snape hadn't given him a swift end; instead, he watched silently as Voldemort died in agony.

Magic like the Shadowless God was dark, dangerous, and caused irreversible damage.

Only Snape and Noah could remove it.

Unless a higher-tier magician appeared with superior magic, it was unbreakable. Unfortunately for Voldemort, he had no such ally.

The person who truly pushed Voldemort into despair was Noah.

After casting Fire Storm—which transformed into a blazing phoenix that ravaged the battlefield—Noah began watching the duel between Snape and Voldemort with great interest.

The blazing storm was terrifying. Noah halted its output after only a few minutes, not because he couldn't maintain it—but because doing so would have drained him dry.

He wanted to conserve his magic. So instead of elemental spells, he resorted to the Shadowless God's techniques to deal with the stragglers.

By chance, he discovered the one target he had longed to capture—Nagini.

Unlike traditional magicians, the magicians of Kamar-Taj made a conscious effort to integrate with ordinary people, rather than separate themselves.

This carried significant risk of exposure, yet they rarely were discovered.

Why? Because they always pulled their opponents into the Mirror Dimension when fighting.

Inside the mirror realm, they could twist reality, unleash devastating power, and no one in the real world would be the wiser.

Even though Noah had only trained in Kamar-Taj for two months, under the brutal guidance of the Ancient One, he had learned these essentials.

Though he wasn't proficient enough to warp space like Doctor Strange, opening a Mirror Dimension to trap an enemy? That much he could do.

If he wanted to, he could even let Voldemort experience infinite free fall.

When Voldemort attempted to Apparate, he was trying to send Nagini away—hoping to revive himself again one day.

But when he realized Nagini hadn't moved an inch, couldn't even bite, and was utterly trapped—he fell into despair.

Then, he rolled his eyes and died.

"At least he didn't have to die as disgustingly as in the books," Noah muttered, gazing at the snake flicking its tongue. "Nor did he fade away like someone snapped by Thanos. Honestly, he should be thanking me."

It had been days since Noah caught Nagini. But he hadn't acted yet.

Despite multiple attempts in the system space, the results were 50/50.

Sometimes he expelled Voldemort's soul. Sometimes he knocked Nagini's soul away.

That uncertainty made him uneasy. To be blunt, it was a matter of control—and his wasn't perfect yet.

Now it was all about gambling on luck, because both souls were unstable.

"How's your preparation going, Noah?" asked Professor Snape, sitting beside him with his daughter in his arms, eyeing the snake curiously.

"Both souls are unstable. It's tricky," Noah replied, scratching his nose. "Also—are you sure it's okay for your kid to be watching this at her age?"

"You mean Lily?" Snape chuckled disdainfully. "Don't forget—I'm head of Slytherin. My daughter might be a Slytherin too."

"What if she ends up in Gryffindor? Don't forget her mom."

"Shut up. I'll teach her how to manipulate the Sorting Hat. But you—aren't you going to try? Don't worry, if you fail, Albus has something ready to wake Harry."

"I'll do my best. But pulling their souls out is mentally draining. Then I have to control my magic carefully to decide which one to keep. It's a hassle."

Noah grumbled. Extracting souls wasn't hard. Doing it like the Ancient One—forcefully ejecting a soul and optionally putting it back—was the hard part.

After a moment's thought, Noah decided to try again.

The odds might be 50/50, but he had learned from his past attempts. It was worth a shot.

Poor Nagini. If she died, Noah would dig a proper grave and honor the legacy of Newt and this beautiful, tragic serpent.

"I'm doing it. Are you sure the future 'Little Slytherin Princess' can handle the scene?"

"Are you crazy? She's not even one!"

Noah sighed and drew his wand.

A golden ring formed at its tip. Magic flooded the room. Oddly, the baby in Snape's arms wasn't afraid—she looked up with innocent curiosity.

Noah focused, channeling his power through the wand. Suddenly, two souls emerged behind Nagini.

One was serpentine and tightly coiled—the snake's own soul. The other was humanoid—clearly Voldemort's.

This part was simple.

The difficult part? Keeping both souls stable and erasing one of them.

Noah tightened his control over the wand. This stage was critical—and exhausting.

Slowly... carefully... Noah worked to ensure neither soul escaped.

He remembered one ridiculous failure in the system space—Voldemort had dragged Nagini's soul with him.

This time, he would stabilize both, then remove Voldemort for good.

Whether he let him evaporate in sunlight or destroyed him after restoring Nagini—it didn't matter.

But the more he focused, the harder it became. Something was wrong.

The snake's soul felt heavy. Unnaturally heavy.

His wand trembled.

If this kept up, he might experience his first real-world failure.

"What the hell! What's going on!?"

Sweat rolled down Noah's forehead. Snape could see his struggle.

But there was nothing Snape could do. He had no idea how to perform such an operation.

He could only pray Noah succeeded.

The baby, however, showed no tension—only a curious little smile...

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