"Ugh—"
Fleur's retching echoed piercingly and awkwardly in the surrounding silence, the girl's idol facade completely gone—it was impossible to maintain. She felt as if her insides had been violently twisted during that dizzying spin.
The others felt no better, and Harry was no exception. Compared to the smooth transport during the World Cup, this portkey travel was sheer torture, as if being stuffed into a rubber hose, which then brutally tore open the space and squeezed them out.
Harry suppressed the surge from deep in his throat, his green eyes flickering with blue light, quickly sweeping the surroundings in the dim environment—they seemed to be still in a huge underground space, moving from one pit to another—but this place was completely different from the previous open medieval arena.
First of all, there was an overwhelming stench—
It was the earthy musk, the dampness caused by rock seepage, a sweet, rancid smell that seemed to be festering, mixed with a deep, cold aura that seemed to come from the depths of a tomb. The cave's air seemed stagnant, heavy to the point of being almost unbreathable, making one's chest feel tight.
Great, this fits everyone's stereotype of a black wizard...
Harry thought bitterly, though now he felt a little more confident, but... after all, this was a black wizard who had lived for two thousand years, even if he was willing to risk himself...
"Lumos!"
Cedric's spell echoed as if reverberating, then a stable but somewhat feeble light ball lit up at the tip of his wand. The boy had obviously been tormented by the recent "travel"—however, the light still dispelled a small area of darkness, allowing everyone to see the situation clearly.
They seemed to be standing on the edge of a space that resembled a natural cave, the ground beneath their feet was rough, uneven rock, covered with a layer of slick, dark moss.
With the glow from Cedric's wand, Harry could also see the condition of the people around him—
Fleur was propping herself up with both hands on her knees, her face ghostly pale in the luminescent light.
Krum clutched his wand tightly, his eyes warily scanning the depths of darkness like a frightened beast, ready to attack at any time, any place.
Daniel still held his hands over where his mouth should be, clearly Helbo had no intention of returning him to normal, the boy's eyes filled with terror and despair, letting out suppressed sounds of fear.
As for Helbo, the dark-skinned "witch" stood a few steps in front facing them, and Harry discerned a hint of excitement on his face.
"Welcome, little wizards."
Helbo curled his lips, his voice still carrying Abebe Hailu's chilly tone, "Welcome to my home, which hasn't had new guests for about three hundred years, truly sad—I've arranged it nicely here, at least it's a place where you can chat quietly."
"Ha, looks like we might have different definitions of 'chat'—"
Harry sarcastically quipped, his voice tinged with unavoidable dryness. He tried to observe everything around, but the place was too vast, the charm's light hardly reached the end, let alone above their heads, with looming shadows in the surrounding darkness—
Probably huge stone sculptures or... something worse.
"Perhaps, you probably don't understand, long life makes one question their existence. It took me close to three hundred years to escape that dilemma—"
Helbo chuckled lightly, the clear sound echoing in the cavern's cavity, sounding eerie, "And living too long, one always needs a comfortable place to hang around, darkness, death, and other messy things, don't mind these details, Mr. Potter—what's most important here is the quiet, very... quiet, undisturbed."
He added with a hint of intent, while Harry pursed his lips, making no comment.
Meanwhile, the boy's Occlumency whirred madly, recovering all chaotic thoughts from his mind, alternatively beginning to construct new ideas outside, to avoid his inner thoughts from being pried into...
Thus, Helbo's expression turned a bit peculiar, pointing to a dark branch path on the side, "The restroom is over there."
"Thanks, I can hold it."
Harry dismissed the other's "kindness," ignoring the strange glances from the others.
At this point, Fleur finally straightened up, suppressing her discomfort and fear, trembling as she looked at Helbo, "What... what did you do to Hailu? How is she now?" Despite previously being rivals—
But now, seeing a fellow traveler occupied by such an evil presence, the French girl's instinctual fear was mixed with intense anger and outrage.
"Ah, there I am, from beginning to end, Miss Veela."
Helbo glanced casually at his own arm, "Don't think I'm that evil. Lodging in someone else's body only makes one's soul fragments increasingly mixed up. I stopped doing that since Jesus' 236th death anniversary."
"Alright, you've brought us here—so, where's Voldemort?"
Harry looked around at his companions; aside from Fleur, the other three remained silent. Cedric was maintaining Occlumency, Krum was glowering, lost in thought, and as for Daniel... he had no choice but to be silent.
"I've mentioned before, I don't like that little lunatic, he's irritating."
Helbo's eyes showed obvious displeasure. He dug at his ear, as if even hearing that name made him feel his ears were unclean, "I only had a brief interaction with him, did a few mutually beneficial trades. As for his request to 'get close' to you—"
Helbo looked at Harry, his tone playful and ambiguous, "I've said it, now you intrigue me more—you don't even know how astonishing your existence is, Harry Potter, as for that damned lunatic?" He shrugged, "Perhaps he's hysterical in some dark corner? Who knows?"
At this moment, Daniel let out a hurried "hah hah" sound, still unable to speak, he animatedly gestured towards Helbo, then pointed to his own missing mouth, his eyes filled with pleading and helpless anger.
"Oh, poor little guy."
Helbo seemed to just notice Daniel's existence. His tone carried a hint of exaggerated sympathy, "Don't worry, that little trick just quiets the world momentarily. When we're done talking, I'll naturally return it to you—if I'm in a good mood then." The light words bore a threat more terrifying than any roar.
"So, what exactly do you want to do?!"
Krum finally couldn't bear Helbo's mysterious attitude any longer. He pulled out his magic wand—but the next moment, it melted into a bright yellow liquid. The boy clutched his burnt fingers and cried out.
"Sorry, I'm not interested in understanding your so-called 'astonishing existence.'"
Harry spoke again, his voice calm, "I only care about what you really intend to do. Don't tell me you brought us all this way just for a heart-to-heart?" He smirked, making a poor joke, "Besides, I'm not a free therapist."
"Oh, Mr. Potter, so ignorant..." Helbo exaggeratedly spread his arms wide, "Come with me."
Then, he turned around, walked toward the nearby cliff, and took a step into the void in the darkness. In the next moment, a pitch-black metal bridge rose from the darkness, supporting his body.
The group hesitated no longer; there was no choice but to follow him. They treaded on the somewhat unstable dark bridge, passing through the cavity of the underground cave, entering a rocky wall, where the sides of the cave were filled with all sorts of strange items—like jars containing deformed Dark Arts creatures, and crystal balls with black smoke and fog completely obscuring the scenes within—
Among them was even a mummy's sarcophagus Harry had only seen in a Muggle Museum—
"Consider this my little collection room, since moving to this place—although most of my collection is being kept by goblins, until recently, I found out goblins aren't reliable either, some damned thief visited my treasury."
Helbo shook his head, "But, thanks to that thief, otherwise I never would've found you—Harry Potter." His voice grew excited, though Harry found the excitement was strangely directed at himself.
Even if the other was presenting as a girl.
"You have the sweet scent of ancient magic flowing through you, and their sources aren't from just one person—there are three. First is the Black Wizard who infused you with the aura of death, then the great mother who infused you with 'love,' and... not counting William, I barely understand." Helbo honestly shook his head.
Indeed, William Richard's magic is especially unique, isn't it?
Following the principle of speaking less, listening more, thinking deeply, Cedric couldn't help but mentally gripe, though he always knew William was special, he hadn't expected him to be so special that even a being thousands of years old couldn't quite grasp it—however, thinking of a kill curse that can affect many, it wasn't surprising.
To satisfy the curiosity of this little Badger regarding "Unforgivable Curses," William had once demonstrated in front of him.
"A being that has escaped from the Killing Curse, you carry its residue, Harry, you and Voldemort are interconnected, you'll make a great key."
Helbo's excitement rose, "For opening the door there, thanks to someone's cleverness, otherwise I could never have uncovered that world-ending energy beneath Hogwarts Castle, and you, Potter, you're just one key that can open it—
"Relax, Mr. Potter, I'm not going to kill you now, the 'Gatekeeper' is alive and well. I don't intend to take risks, plus, what I lack least is time. Likewise, a key must function while alive—"
He smiled strangely, "So, for you to survive till then, I need you to create your own Soul Artifact." He waved his hand, and a short knife suddenly appeared in Harry's hand. Helbo pointed to the others—
"Take your pick, who would you like to be your Soul Artifact's first sacrifice?"