Chapter 132: 132: That’s All for Now, See You Next Season

For one terrifying moment— Harry hesitated. — The hesitation was brief— But it existed. — A tiny, insidious thought had slipped into his mind— A thought that whispered: "Maybe... just maybe... this is the only way to stop Voldemort." — But NO. His common sense—his moral compass—his Gryffindor heart—all screamed in protest. This is Neville. A fellow Gryffindor. A friend. How could he even consider such a thing?! — Harry's breath caught— His heartbeat pounded in his ears— Then, with all his might, he kicked Nolan's dagger away. — The blade clattered across the stone floor. Harry turned, fury blazing in his emerald eyes, and shouted at Nolan: "I WON'T DO IT! NEVILLE IS INNOCENT!" — Nolan exhaled sharply, shaking his head in frustration. "Idiot." — Without hesitation, he pulled out another dagger—its edge gleaming under the dim light. And this time— He looked fully prepared to do the job himself. — "I WON'T LET YOU!" — Harry lunged forward, throwing his weight against Nolan in a desperate attempt to stop him. He might not have been as strong as Nolan— But he had to try. — The two collided, Harry pushing against him with everything he had. Nolan didn't even budge. — "Harry Potter, are you trying to protect Voldemort?" Nolan's voice was icy. — "No! I'm protecting Neville!" Harry's voice shook, but his resolve didn't. — For the first time, true impatience flickered across Nolan's face. — This fool... Did he truly not understand what was at stake? Did he not realize that letting Voldemort go free would bring devastation upon the wizarding world? — Voldemort was a monster. If he escaped, he would return—stronger, more ruthless than before. And hundreds, thousands of wizards and Muggles would die. — All because of Harry Potter's childish sense of morality. — "Harry Potter..." Nolan's blood-red eyes darkened— His patience snapping. — "Move." — His voice dropped to a cold whisper. And the next words chilled Harry to the bone: "If you get in my way again, I will kill you." — Harry's breath hitched. His stomach twisted. — He shook his head, whispering: "No... you wouldn't..." — But Nolan's grip tightened around his wand. His lips curled. And he spoke the words. — "Avada Kedav—" — "PETRIFICUS TOTALUS!" — A thunderous blast erupted behind them— And Nolan was sent flying across the room. — He crashed against the stone wall—his body locking up as a familiar golden glow spread over his limbs. — "Professor Dumbledore!" Harry gasped in relief. — The elderly headmaster strode forward—his piercing blue eyes scanning the scene before him. His expression was grave—his wand still raised. — And in his other hand— He held the Elder Wand. — Even Nolan had to admit— That wand held terrifying power. — Dumbledore's gaze moved swiftly—taking in the chaos: Harry, looking shaken but determined. Neville's unconscious body on the floor. And Nolan, still stiff from the Full Body-Bind. — Finally, the headmaster spoke. His voice was calm, but firm. "What exactly is happening here?" — "Professor!" Harry rushed forward, desperation in his eyes. "It's Voldemort! He's inside Neville's body—he possessed him! We have to save Neville, please!" — Dumbledore's gaze hardened. — But before he could respond— A dry laugh echoed through the room. — Nolan was struggling to his feet, his movements stiff—his muscles still sluggish from the spell. Yet, even in his weakened state, his eyes burned with icy determination. — "He is innocent, Potter?" His voice was hoarse, but still carried that mocking edge. "Then tell me..." Nolan's gaze locked onto Harry—his words razor-sharp. "When Voldemort returns—when war breaks out—when thousands of witches and Muggles are slaughtered..." He stepped forward. "Will they not be innocent?" — Dumbledore's sharp blue eyes flickered between them. — Nolan's cold logic. Harry's desperate morality. And the Dark Lord's looming presence, even now—within Neville's unconscious form. — A choice had to be made. And time was running out. Nolan's eyes burned crimson, his face utterly cold, his pupils locking onto Dumbledore like a predator watching its prey. And then, he spoke— Slowly. Deliberately. Dangerously. — "I don't care about the lives of wizards or Muggles." "But you, Dumbledore—" "You'd better remember one thing—" "Me and my people are still in Hogwarts." — A tense silence filled the room, thick with unspoken threats. Then— — Dumbledore let out a sigh. — "Oh, Nolan... I do apologize for my actions just now." His voice was gentle, carrying an undeniable weight of wisdom. "You must understand—I was truly startled." "Especially when I saw Voldemort lying on the floor..." His eyes flickered toward Harry. "And one of my students attempting to cast an Unforgivable Curse on another." — He was trying to ease the tension. Trying to calm Nolan down. But that was easier said than done. — Nolan's lips curled into something that wasn't quite a smile. His voice was icy. "Enough nonsense, Dumbledore." "Make a choice." — His gaze swept toward Neville's unconscious form. And then— A bloodthirsty smirk crossed his lips. — "Either do as I say—" "Cut off this fat kid's limbs, bind him, and trap Voldemort forever." "Or—" His eyes flicked toward Harry. "Follow your little hero's delusions—" "Try to drive Voldemort out, struggle to save everyone—" "And let this war spiral out of control." — Silence. And then— Dumbledore let out a slow, weary chuckle. "Oh, Nolan..." His blue eyes twinkled with sad understanding. "You put me in quite the difficult position." — But Nolan only raised an eyebrow, sneering. — "Is it really that hard?" His tone was mocking, his eyes sharp as knives. "Anyone with a brain should know the right answer." "And let me make something very clear—" "I don't care what you choose." — He crossed his arms, his expression full of disdain. "But if you let Voldemort escape today—" "Don't expect me to lift a finger next time." "Your war between Light and Dark has nothing to do with me." "My family is already busy dealing with hunters and werewolves—" "We don't have time for this nonsense." — The words echoed in the chamber, heavy with finality. And then— Nolan flicked his wrist. The two daggers that had been cast aside soared back into his grasp. With a single smooth motion, he concealed them once more. Then, without another glance— He turned to leave. — ...But then— He stopped. Slowly, he looked back. And his lips twisted into a sharp smirk. — "Oh, right—" "Petrificus Totalus." — A spell shot through the air. And before Dumbledore could move— It hit him directly. — The great Albus Dumbledore— The legendary wizard— Was frozen in place. — Harry's eyes widened in shock. He knew— Dumbledore could have dodged. But— He didn't. — Harry's throat went dry. And before he could react— BOOM! — A spell slammed into his chest— And he was sent flying. — His body hit the ground hard, pain jolting through his limbs. He gasped, his vision swimming. — And then— From the corner of his eye— He saw Nolan bend down. And casually, as if it were nothing— Pick up the Philosopher's Stone. — "YOU CAN'T TAKE THAT!" — Harry's voice was hoarse, but his outrage burned through the pain. — Nolan turned, amused by the defiance. He twirled the stone between his fingers. — "Actually, I can." — His blood-red eyes glinted in the dim light. "The Philosopher's Stone... quite a fascinating alchemical artifact." He let out a low chuckle. "If Nicolas Flamel is still alive in a few decades—" "I might pay him a visit." "It's always enlightening to converse with someone who isn't a stubborn fool." His gaze flicked toward Dumbledore. "Wouldn't you agree, Professor?" — The frozen Dumbledore said nothing. But his silence said everything. — Nolan smirked. And then, his gaze shifted— Landing once again on Harry Potter. — For a moment— They just stared at each other. — And then, Nolan spoke. His words—sharp. Cold. Final. — "Harry Potter—" "You should be grateful you live under this old man's protection." — His crimson eyes glowed dangerously. — "This will be the last time we cross paths." "Your stupidity and naïve idealism disgust me." "Pray that you get a good ending, Potter." — And with that— He turned and left. — Harry lay there— Stunned. Disoriented. And yet— One thought pounded in his mind: — Nolan Von Draugr... He was terrifying. Not just powerful— But terrifying. — He was only one year older than Harry. And yet— His presence was just as suffocating as Voldemort's. — A shiver ran down Harry's spine. And then— Dumbledore moved. — The spell had worn off. The old wizard sighed, rolling his shoulders as he glanced at Harry. — "Professor Dumbledore!" Harry scrambled to his feet, frantic. "We have to stop him! Von Draugr took the Philosopher's Stone!" — But Dumbledore— Didn't move. — Instead— He merely smiled. And shrugged. — "It doesn't matter, Harry." — Harry froze. "What—?! But—" — "Nolan has no interest in using the Stone to create the Elixir of Life." "He has no use for such things." Dumbledore's gaze was calm, almost contemplative. — "Perhaps in Nolan's hands—" "The Philosopher's Stone will be safest." He chuckled softly. "After all, there are very few who have truly comprehended both life and death—" "And grown weary of both." — He sighed, pushing his half-moon glasses up his nose. Then— He turned toward the bigger problem. — His gaze landed on Neville Longbottom's unconscious form. — ...Inside of whom... The Dark Lord still lurked. — And so— The real battle was only just beginning.