"Harry~ Potter! Which one is Harry~ Potter?"
A cold, eerie voice echoed through the dark, damp cavern. Just before Hagrid could crush him, Quirrell, who had fallen to the ground, transformed into a cloud of black smoke and flew to the side, quickly retrieving his Alder wand from the rubble.
Hagrid crashed heavily onto the large rock, shattering it and wincing in pain.
Dudley's expression darkened. Voldemort was too fast, and the wand wasn't affected by the Summoning Charm. He hadn't had time to retrieve it.
By then, the black smoke had reformed on another rock.
The figure was still cloaked in black, but now it was facing away from them, the wand held backward in its right hand.
Even more bizarre, the hood on the back of the figure's head had a large, perfectly oval hole, revealing a grotesque, hairless face with crimson eyes, no nose, and thin, cracked lips. It was horrifying.
Dudley, familiar with the original story, knew this was Quirrell's back—and the current appearance of Voldemort's main soul.
"Roar—"
The dragons roared as the goblins of Gringotts finally arrived on the scene.
"Drop your weapon! Surrender! You're surrounded!"
A goblin riding a dragon amplified his voice with a Sonorus-like spell, issuing a warning to the intruder.
At the same time, the three dragons breathed fire in unison, creating an intimidating display.
"You're disturbing me!"
The grotesque face let out a harsh screech, waving Quirrell's wand without turning around.
A wave of malevolent blue flames erupted, instantly forming a massive firestorm that surged toward the hovering dragons and goblins.
"Merlin's beard! It's Fiendfyre!"
The goblins shouted in panic, retreating and firing yellow beams of light to counter the flames, but to little effect.
The Fiendfyre grew fiercer, quickly coalescing into a giant blue serpent.
The serpent opened its fiery maw, baring its flaming fangs, and lunged at the goblins.
"Now, no more interruptions!"
Quirrell stepped backward as Voldemort stepped forward, his movements strange yet menacing. "Tell me, who is Harry~ Potter?"
"You... you're You-Know-Who... Voldemort?!"
Hagrid's voice trembled. Even for the half-giant, the name carried a heavy shadow.
"Tell me, you oaf!"
Voldemort roared. His current state was far from ideal. He had berated Quirrell as useless, but he didn't realize his own mind was also slipping.
His hatred for Harry had consumed part of his sanity. At this moment, he wasn't focused on killing or retrieving the Philosopher's Stone. He only wanted to capture his prophesied nemesis and torment him.
Faced with Voldemort's approach, Hagrid realized he had said too much in his earlier anger and clamped his mouth shut.
"Calm down... calm down..."
From behind Hagrid, Harry, ignoring the tense atmosphere, stuck to Dudley's original plan. He extended his hands, casting the Calming Charm from a distance.
A strange force gradually reached Voldemort's current body, and a sense of peace washed over him.
But Voldemort's malice and madness were far beyond what Harry could influence. In less than a second, Voldemort shook off the effects of the charm.
"So, it was you who influenced my servant's mind! Impressive wandless magic! Such talent—you must be Ha—"
"Ventus!"
Hidden behind a boulder, Dudley suddenly launched an attack on Voldemort. The wand he had taken from Diggle glowed blue as a magical sandstorm, carrying chunks of rubble, surged toward the grotesque figure silhouetted against the blue flames.
Dudley poured his powerful magic into the wand, sustaining the swirling sandstorm, while shouting angrily, "Idiot! I'm Harry!"
He hadn't been able to cast the spell earlier because spells like Ventus, which were moderately difficult, required some practice to master.
Dudley hadn't systematically studied spellcasting, and relying solely on his Muggle-era book knowledge and self-taught practice, he had managed to cast the spell quickly only thanks to his enhanced magical talent after fusing with the Philosopher's Stone.
"Another prodigy!" Voldemort's voice suddenly echoed in Dudley's ear. "You're Harry~ Potter's... cousin, aren't you?"
Dudley's heart skipped a beat. Somehow, Voldemort had transformed Quirrell's body into black smoke again, slipping through the gaps in the sandstorm and appearing beside him.
Dudley swung a punch, but Voldemort's spell, fueled by Quirrell's life force, was faster.
"Crucio!"
The Cruciatus Curse struck Dudley without mercy, sending him flying in agony. He landed on a pile of rubble, and the sandstorm spell dissipated.
Dudley hadn't touched Voldemort—or rather, Quirrell's body—and the Cruciatus Curse wasn't a killing curse.
The weakened version of Lily's protective charm didn't activate.
"Cousin—"
Seeing Dudley hit by the curse and thrown aside, Harry could no longer stay calm. He cried out in desperation.
Now, his identity was completely exposed.
Harry tried to run to Dudley, but Hagrid stepped in front of him, shielding him.
"You oaf! You're as stupid as ever! Your secrets are either written on your face or spill out of your mouth.
When I spoke earlier, your anxious expression and the way you glanced back told me everything!
Thinking back, framing you was almost too easy. It's almost nostalgic!"
Voldemort stepped closer to Hagrid and Harry, his words cutting deep.
"You... it was you?!" Hagrid's jaw dropped. "Of course, I should have known. No one else could be so evil!"
"Hahaha! You oaf! Get out of the way! Stop making me laugh with your stupid face!"
Voldemort laughed maniacally, like a villain on the verge of victory.
Feeling his face—Quirrell's back—beginning to wrinkle and age, he wasted no more time. "Diffindo!"
Hagrid's striped coat and the shirt underneath were instantly shredded, revealing a pile of scattered items, including the fake Philosopher's Stone wrapped in brown paper and twine.
"Hahahaha—"
Voldemort let out another maniacal laugh, waving his wand to send the package flying into Quirrell's now-aged hand.
"That belongs to Dumbledore! Ah—give it back!"
Hagrid, his upper body exposed, roared with a fury that even overcame his fear of Voldemort. His umbrella-wand shot out a bright white light.
But Voldemort casually deflected the spell with an invisible shield, sending it into a nearby stalactite, which transformed into a festering, pus-filled dead rat.
"Reducto!"
While deflecting Hagrid's spell, Voldemort fired a Blasting Curse at him.
Hagrid's massive body was thrown backward, landing heavily and bleeding profusely.
Meanwhile, Dudley, struggling to endure the excruciating pain of the Cruciatus Curse with his two lifetimes' worth of resilience, finally regained his senses.
But as he looked up, he saw Voldemort's wand glowing with the Cruciatus Curse again—this time aimed at his cousin.
"No—"
Dudley let out a roar of pure rage. He knew the weakened protective charm wouldn't block the Cruciatus Curse. His emotions surged violently.
With overwhelming anger and desperation, a burst of powerful golden magic erupted from Dudley, engulfing Voldemort and the surrounding area.
This time, it was a true magical outburst!