A magical journey that begins in Azkaban

Once the word Elder Wand was mentioned, it seemed to possess some mysterious magic power, instantly attracting the attention of everyone present. The air was filled with a tense and curious atmosphere, and even the sound of breathing became inaudible.

Buck couldn't help but whispered: "Legend has it that the Elder Wand was made by the god of death himself. In a duel, it can allow the user to release unimaginable magic power, making its owner invincible and unbeatable." There was a trace of awe in his voice and a strong desire in his eyes.

"However, it has disappeared for many years. No one knows where it is now, or whether it really exists. Unexpectedly, Dumbledore originally occupied it."

Dumbledore gently waved the wand, and a soft light enveloped his body, stopping the wound on his body.

He shook his head slowly: "It's not the Elder Wand." His tone was firm and calm, as if stating an indisputable fact.

Then, a strong magic gushed out from the tip of the wand. The snow around seemed to be summoned by something, and quickly melted into clear water, sweeping towards Voldemort like a rushing river.

In the blink of an eye, the water flow gathered into a huge transparent sphere, wrapping Voldemort tightly in it.

Voldemort was like a trapped beast at this moment, struggling hard in the water ball. Through the constantly surging water and waves, his face became blurred and terrifying, like a twisted nightmare.

"Master!" The Death Eaters were terrified and shouted in panic.

Their voices were full of fear and anxiety, and they obviously did not expect the situation to reverse so quickly.

In the chaos, Bella's voice was as conspicuous as her loyalty. Her eyes were burning with rage, and her hateful eyes stared at Dumbledore, as if she wanted to cut him into pieces.

"Attack him! Help the master untie the water ball!"

The Death Eaters rushed towards Dumbledore like wild beasts whipped by whips.

However, a strong wave of magic came from Dumbledore, and everything that tried to approach was repelled.

The skeletons also received some invisible instructions, and strangely rotated their heads 180 degrees, aiming their empty eye sockets at Dumbledore, slowly and firmly approaching him.

Voldemort in the water ball was extremely painful, his snake-like face twisted into a hideous face, and his scarlet eyes were full of rage and unwillingness.

No matter how he waved his wand or how powerful the spell he chanted, the water prison built by Dumbledore remained motionless. Through the twisted water flow, he saw Dumbledore approaching him step by step, with determination flashing in his blue eyes.

As if sensing the approach of death, Voldemort mobilized all the magic power in his body and finally stretched his pale hand out of the water ball.

Then, Lily suddenly pounced on her son Harry, and her slender but powerful hands tightly strangled his neck.

Harry looked at his mother in confusion. The strong feeling of suffocation made him suddenly dazed, and his whole face turned visibly crimson purple.

"Lily? Quick, let Harry go!" Lupin and Sirius's screams cut through the sky. They ignored the attacks of the Death Eaters and rushed over shouting.

However, at this moment, hundreds of Dementors suddenly appeared on the battlefield, rushing towards everyone without distinguishing between friend and foe.

These terrifying creatures formed a suffocating black ocean, exuding a biting cold and endless despair. Their existence seemed to be a ball of black ink that devoured everything, instantly wiping out all the colors and hopes around them.

The air was filled with fear and despair, and even breathing became weak.

Dumbledore caught this scene, and a trace of worry flashed in his eyes. As a last resort, he temporarily suspended the control of the water ball, and waved his left hand quickly, and a dazzling silver light gushed out from his palm.

The silver light instantly transformed into a majestic phoenix. Dumbledore's patronus spread its silver wings and hovered in the air lightly and gracefully.

Every flap of its wings sprinkled countless crystal light spots, like seeds of hope blooming in the darkness.

The Dementors not far away seemed to see some kind of terrifying natural enemy, and those expressionless black hoods revealed silent fear.

The next second, as if receiving some kind of silent order, they all turned around and fled at an astonishing speed, not daring to stay for a moment.

"A bunch of trash! Damn traitors!" Voldemort's roar exploded like thunder, and his scarlet eyes burned with endless anger and hatred.

Taking advantage of Dumbledore's distraction, he finally found a breakthrough and broke through the restraints of the water ball.

Under his control, the falling water curtain instantly condensed into countless crystal clear ice flakes. These ice flakes were suspended in the air, flashing with a cold light, like pieces of razors, ready to harvest lives at any time.

He smiled grimly and swung his wand violently.

The sharp ice flakes shot out like arrows from a bow, whistling towards Dumbledore and others. The ears were filled with sharp sounds of breaking through the air, as if the god of death was whispering to him.

Lupin and Sirius finally controlled the mad Lily. Harry knelt on the ground, covering his burning throat with both hands, coughing continuously. His green eyes were full of sadness, looking at his mother who was controlled by the Imperius Curse, his eyes flashed with tears.

"Found it." Roger stood on the valley, looking at the Department of Mysteries not far away, with a little joy in his eyes.

He knew clearly that there was not only a cabinet of time-space converters inside, but also countless props collected by the Ministry of Magic.

He looked back at the principal's patron saint and gently pressed his palm on the black door.

"This is..." Rogge's expression suddenly changed, and a trace of surprise flashed in his eyes.

In my mind, the panel that had been silent for a long time suddenly became active: [An independent space is found and can be connected to the system. 】

"Independent space? Is it because the Department of Mysteries separated from the Ministry of Magic?"

He recalled his first experience with the Room of Requirement. At that time, the same prompt appeared on the panel. Unfortunately, there is not enough energy, and there are other forces to stop it.

Although he later recharged the panel with energy through the Philosopher's Stone, he never attempted to explore the secrets of the Room of Requirement again.

After all, Dumbledore's blue eyes always made people uneasy, and he didn't want to risk arousing the principal's suspicion.

"Department of Mysteries or the Room of Requirement?" Rogge murmured to himself, gently rubbing his chin with his fingers.

If you have enough energy, you will naturally need both. But so far, only the magic stone can replenish energy for the panel. The Magic Stone disappeared or was destroyed, so he had no time to look for the second one.

"Why should I struggle?" He clapped his hands suddenly, and a flash of understanding flashed in his eyes: "The Room of Requirement can change its shape according to the user's thoughts. This flexibility is unparalleled. And the Department of Mysteries, said It’s just a gorgeous warehouse after all.”

"As long as you take away the goods inside, the empty shell outside doesn't matter at all. Moreover, you can also give the pot to dear Voldemort." A sly smile appeared on the corner of his mouth.

Rogge looked down at the battle in the valley, the light of magic flashing continuously. He turned to Maria and said softly: "Let's go back to Hogwarts first."

The Department of Mysteries can be explored at any time, but the chance to take away the Room of Requirement might just be this one.

Although Voldemort claimed to be the most powerful dark wizard, in Rogge's eyes, he had never been Dumbledore's opponent. Maybe the next second, he will be beaten to pieces by the principal.

However, he is stronger than Roger imagined.

Voldemort possesses many rare and powerful dark magics, which not only can flexibly avoid Dumbledore's attacks, but can also cause him some minor troubles.

He swam quickly and cautiously over the cemetery, like a deadly snake. Whenever he got the chance, he would bite him hard and force Dumbledore to guard against it.

At the same time, he would use Kandel's bones as a shield, forcing Dumbledore to redirect the spell.

At this time, Hogwarts Castle was particularly peaceful, the students were still on the Hogwarts Express, and the number of professors was only half of the usual number.

The mischievous Peeves floats face down along the ceiling, laying new prank traps everywhere.

In the tapestry on the eighth floor, a group of trolls kept waving sticks, beating the poor wizard in the middle endlessly.

Roger walked back and forth three times across from the tapestry, focusing on his own needs. As he wished, a familiar door appeared out of thin air on the stone wall.

Rogge took a deep breath, gently opened the door, and saw a spacious and bright potion room.

The panel in his mind flashed again: [An independent space was found and can be connected to the system. 】

Rogge's heartbeat quickened and he gave the command "Connect in" without hesitation.

He stared at the panel closely and saw that the energy bar below was reduced by two-thirds in an instant.

[Start accessing...]

Suddenly, a warning message popped up: [Warning! warn! Being protected by exception, do you want to continue accessing? 】

He fired the bow without any intention of turning back, and said decisively: "Continue."

Following this command, the remaining energy bar disappeared directly. Rogge's heart was in his throat, fearing that his adventure would end in failure.

After the panel was silent for a few seconds, it finally gave new feedback.

[Successful access, 1%...5%...]

Seeing the rising progress bar, Rogge breathed a sigh of relief, and a trace of joy flashed in his eyes.

Dumbledore, who was in the middle of a fierce duel with Voldemort, suddenly changed his expression. As the recognized headmaster of Hogwarts, he can sense that the castle is being invaded by some mysterious and powerful force.

"Dumbledore, you still look down on me so much!" Voldemort roared angrily, "When I applied for the position of Professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts, you rejected me with this look in your eyes."

Before he finished speaking, his body suddenly began to disintegrate, turning into wisps of black smoke and dissipating in the air. This sudden change caused everyone on the battlefield to fall into a brief sluggish state.

People were either surprised, happy, or scared, looking at the place where the black smoke disappeared, wondering what Voldemort was going to do.

Dumbledore turned suddenly, his voice filled with unprecedented urgency: "Stay there and don't move, Harry!"

However, it was too late.

Harry felt a sudden burst of pain from his scar, as if someone was branding his forehead with a red-hot iron. Every inch of his nerves fell into indescribable pain, and the whole world twisted and spun before his eyes.

Professor McGonagall looked at Harry who was bound by the match rope and asked in confusion: "Albus, what is going on? Why are you tied up?"

A painful breath came from Harry's throat, but when he spoke, his voice changed completely. The tone and tone were like another Voldemort speaking: "Old guy, you lost."

"Harry..." Dumbledore called softly with a flash of pain and remorse on his face.

"You made the choice, Dumbledore! If death is nothing, then kill this kid." His words were cold and ruthless.

"Is that weakness in your eyes?" Harry's body was like a puppet controlled by a string. He jumped up suddenly, and his legs swayed weakly in the air.

His movements were as fast as lightning, and he easily avoided the interception of others like a ghost. In the blink of an eye, he was in front of Lily, and his wand was firmly pressed against her soft chin.

"If you are given another chance, will you choose this child again?" Harry made a series of strange cries, and his voice was mixed with Voldemort's grin: "Then, I will choose Harry as my opponent as you wish."

The wand stabbed upwards like lightning, ruthlessly piercing Lily's chin. Then, it was pulled out again, bringing out a stream of bright red blood.

Lily's body quickly collapsed, like a flower about to wither: pale and sad.

"No!"

Two heart-wrenching shouts sounded at the same time, one far and one near. One was Harry, and the other was Snape, who was not far away.

Harry finally felt his limbs, but then he fell to the ground in extreme pain.

He looked at his mother's green eyes, which were exactly the same as his own, and felt as if his heart was being trampled back and forth by tens of thousands of mammoths. The pain almost tore him apart.

Snape rushed to Lily like a black whirlwind. He held her in his arms with trembling hands, and frantically used various potions and healing magic to try to block the wound.

Fortunately, the wand did not pierce the carotid artery. Under his treatment at all costs, Lily's breath was weak, but it did not disappear.

"You promised me!" Snape's eyes were red, tears and anger intertwined, he roared hysterically at Harry, "You and James can only bring her misfortune forever!"

Harry was hunched in pain, and his soul was in a fierce duel with Voldemort.

In his spiritual world, an invisible mirror blocked his soul, but it reflected Voldemort's face.

His consciousness struggled in pain and confusion, and past scenes kept flashing in his mind: the firm eyes of his mother in the nursery, the fantasy of family reunion in the Mirror of Erised, the protection of his parents in the flashback spell...

Memory, like a sharp knife, cut his heart.

Dumbledore squatted down, his beautiful blue eyes full of worry and regret.

"Harry." He called gently, no longer caring about the changes in Hogwarts, "It doesn't matter who you look like, what matters is that you are you."

Harry struggled to support himself with both hands and tried to stand up, but every movement made him painful.

The blood on the ground and the murder weapon in his hand kept reminding him of the terrible fact: he hurt his mother with his own hands.

The truth was like boiling magma, roaring at him.

Strong hatred ignited in Harry's heart, and the scar on his forehead became more and more painful, as if someone was stabbing it hard with a needle.

"Is it over?" A fire shadow flashed, and Roger returned to the Department of Mysteries again.

He looked around, his eyes swept across the quiet valley, ready to push the door open and enter.

Suddenly, a strong wave of magic came from the air. A wizard who was not tall but had a straight and elegant figure appeared out of thin air on the edge of the cliff.

"Who are you?" Roger held his wand and stared at the newcomer vigilantly.

The man moved his feet little by little and turned to face Roger. His gray-blue eyes, like Dumbledore, flashed with wisdom.

"Hello, my name is Nicolas Flamel." A friendly smile appeared on the other's pale face, and his voice was gentle and calm.

"The maker of the Philosopher's Stone? Dumbledore's beloved (crossed out) relatives and friends?" Roger was startled and felt his throat dry.

His brain was working fast, thinking secretly: "Why did this legendary alchemist appear here? Could it be that he was the rescuer invited by the old bee?"

Nicolas Flamel smiled and walked slowly down the mountain without saying a word. It seems that this is his first time in Godric's Hollow, so the apparition is not accurate.

"Maria, go back to the Crystal Castle and rest first." Roger looked back at the gate of the Department of Mysteries and trotted a few steps to catch up.

Harry in the cemetery was experiencing a violent shock of the soul. He was panting heavily, his nostrils and mouth were opening and closing violently, and his eyes were staring blankly ahead.

"You will never understand love and friendship." His voice regained the upper hand.

The hatred in Harry's heart was completely different from Voldemort's. His hatred came from deep love, while Voldemort's hatred came from his inner dissatisfaction and fear.

This essential difference became the biggest gap between them, and it was also a power that the Dark Lord would never know.

"You are the truly pitiful person, I feel sorry for you." Harry whispered, his eyes revealing incomparable determination.

He punched the mirror in front of the soul, shattering Voldemort's snake face. In an instant, the warm sunlight penetrated the darkness and dispelled the coldness in his heart.

He turned over violently, and clouds of dark smoke spurted out of his chest. The smoke condensed into shape, and Voldemort's figure appeared in front of Harry out of thin air.

Strangely, the actions of other people around him were frozen in the last second, as if time had frozen at this moment.

Harry looked up at the sky, his glasses were nowhere to be found, and his unfocused pupils looked a little helpless.

Voldemort's voice rang in his ears, but he could not hear it clearly, as if there was a thick layer of frosted glass between the two.

Suddenly, there was a noise outside. Voldemort turned his head alertly, only to meet Roger's eyes that seemed to be smiling but not smiling. Next to him, there was a thin old wizard.

Roger raised his hand in a familiar manner, as if greeting an old friend he hadn't seen for many years: "Long time no see, Mr. Voldemort."

At the same time, Nicolas Flamel lightly tapped his wand, and an almost invisible ripple spread in the air. In an instant, the frozen time and space in the cemetery began to flow again.