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Chapter 112: Young Souls from Fifty Years Ago (Part 3)
🕑 Added 2025-04-09 12:43:08 +0000 UTC
“Damn it!”
Tom Riddle’s face darkened. He never imagined that this young Ravenclaw could wield such terrifying magic!
Elemental magic. Riddle wasn’t even sure if he’d learn such spells in the future, but based on the knowledge he had now—definitely not!
His path didn’t involve high-tier elemental magic. Though the Unforgivable Curses held considerable power, they were still considered low-level in comparison.
That disparity made Riddle’s heart stir with resentment. Recalling their earlier battle, he quickly realized something.
“Those blade-like spells before… They weren’t ordinary magic. They were elemental attacks! Damn it—why didn’t I believe it then?”
A rush of thoughts surged through Riddle’s mind. He hadn’t believed Noah could perform elemental magic before—mainly because he hadn’t seen it firsthand.
Despite rumors circulating among students, he was too arrogant to think anyone at Hogwarts could truly master such advanced magic.
But now, facing a roaring fire dragon conjured from pure elemental force, he had no choice but to believe.
His chest sank. Noah hadn’t learned this on his own. That could only mean—he had a mentor. A terrifying one.
“Damn it… a teacher like that came to Hogwarts? With nothing better to do?”
Riddle cursed internally, but his hands moved quickly.
He had already cast defensive spells well before Noah began his incantation. Even during their clash the previous night, he’d launched preemptive attacks when Noah showed signs of chanting again.
But all his spells were useless—they dissipated upon touching the elemental shield, not even leaving a ripple.
Riddle now realized his previous magical preparations were utterly insufficient. He could not die here—not now.
“Heavy Obstruction! Superior Armor!”
Riddle fired off two defensive spells in quick succession. A silver halo encircled his body just as the fire dragon collided with him.
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
Explosions echoed one after another as the fire dragons struck. Searing heat surged through the hall, flames raging wildly in every direction. In Riddle’s furious gaze, the storm of fire dragons devoured him in a torrent of blazing destruction.
The blast wave was so strong that even Harry and Draco, who had hastily raised their own defenses, were flung away like rag dolls!
Under such terrifying magical power, could anyone really survive?
Draco had his doubts. But just as he thought it, fear crept in.
This was Voldemort. Even as a teenager, he wasn’t ordinary.
Still, the sight of Noah’s fire dragon made Draco gulp. He had a strong feeling that even Lucius Malfoy would have been reduced to ashes by that attack.
There was no doubt—Noah was terrifying. Far beyond imagination.
“Maybe… Noah could kill Voldemort alone someday…”
Draco muttered as he sat on the floor, unaware Harry had heard him while slowly standing up.
Harry adjusted his broken glasses. The lenses were cracked from the explosion, but he could still see.
And surprisingly, he agreed with Draco.
Noah gave off an overwhelming presence—so much so that Harry felt like he couldn’t even compete.
Sure, he was glad Noah was strong… but deep down, something twisted inside him.
Back when Harry entered the magical world, he was hailed as the Boy Who Lived—the one who had defeated the Dark Lord.
Even though Harry himself didn’t understand how he had done it, he had enjoyed the reputation and the respect.
But now, with Noah’s arrival, everything seemed off.
Everyone called Harry the savior—but compared to Noah, he felt like a fraud.
He’d been fighting Voldemort since his first year, traveled to America, and gotten tangled in things he still didn’t fully understand. And now, here he was… fighting the young version of Voldemort from fifty years ago!
It was absurd. Was he really the savior?
The more he thought about it, the more convinced he became that the wizarding world had gotten it wrong. In front of Noah, he felt insignificant.
“Forget it… what does it matter who the savior is?” Harry laughed at himself.
After all, being the savior only really meant saving the British wizarding world. And in truth, defeating Voldemort did equate to saving that future.
Harry now saw Noah as his most trustworthy friend, even if he knew that, in Noah’s eyes, he might never be as close as the boys in his dorm.
But he didn’t care. Even Dumbledore couldn’t treat everyone as his top priority—he was only human.
Unconsciously, Harry had come to regard Noah as someone just as important as Dumbledore in his heart.
“I’d better keep an eye on this Malfoy, just in case he tries anything,” Harry thought, gripping his wand tightly.
As both boys stood lost in their own thoughts, the flames in the chamber finally began to die down.
And that’s when they saw—Riddle wasn’t dead.
He was barely alive though, coughing violently. His body was covered in soot and burns, his previously handsome face blackened and blistered. His Slytherin robes were in tatters.
“Didn’t think you could actually use elemental magic…” Riddle gasped, slowly getting to his feet with a twisted expression.
“You didn’t expect a lot of things,” Noah said coolly. “It’s laughable that anyone said you’d become the greatest wizard of all time.”
He smirked.
“A frog trapped in a well thinks the sky is only as wide as the hole above it. That’s you, Riddle.”
Noah didn’t attack further—not because he didn’t want to, but because he was low on magic power. He needed to recover.
Riddle’s level was impressive—definitely at least Third Tier. He had simply underestimated Noah.
Had Riddle taken Noah seriously from the start, things might have been different. But resisting elemental magic—one of the academy’s most advanced branches—was no easy feat.
“Maybe so… but I still want to thank you,” Riddle hissed. “You taught me never to underestimate others. Unfortunately for you, you were just one step away from killing me.”
He smiled viciously.
“But now you won’t get another chance. It’s my turn!”
Even though he was injured and nearly out of magic, Riddle no longer cared. He knew full well that elemental magic came with a heavy cost—and Noah had just unleashed something massive.
“Avada Kedavra!”
Without hesitation, Riddle raised his wand. A flash of green light burst forth—the Killing Curse, the deadliest of the Unforgivable Curses—aimed straight at Noah’s chest.
Noah’s eyes narrowed. With a flick of his wand, a golden shield shimmered into existence.
The green curse slammed into the shield—and shattered it entirely.
“Crucio!”
When one curse failed, Riddle didn’t stop. He launched the Cruciatus Curse, draining his already-depleted magical reserves.
He didn’t care. If he didn’t act now, he’d die here. He was certain of that.
Noah cursed under his breath. Riddle’s desperation was terrifying.
Though Riddle relied on Horcruxes for survival, and even tried to cheat death through dark resurrection rituals—these methods weren’t flawless.
If Noah defeated the current manifestation of Riddle, all of his preparations—including his Horcruxes—could unravel completely.
That’s why he’d hidden himself here, calculating that Professors McGonagall and Dumbledore wouldn’t interfere in time.
He’d planned everything meticulously—but he hadn’t expected three students to uncover the Chamber of Secrets.
And worse—one of them could use elemental magic on par with a sixth-year wizard.
A miscalculation he might not live through.
Riddle now fought with the desperation of a man clinging to life. After all, the difference between gambling on survival and surrendering to death is everything.
“Guess I have to go all out too,” Noah muttered.
Had this been a standard duel, he would’ve taken his time, chipped away at Riddle’s stamina—but now wasn’t the time.
Who knew how much longer Ginny Weasley had?
“Disgusting pest. Why resist when you could just lie down and die?” Noah muttered darkly.
A cruel line—but one born out of the situation’s urgency.
He blasted Riddle’s weakened Unforgivable Curse with a fireball, scattering it in a fiery burst.
Then he began gathering his magic once more.
Suddenly, the entire Chamber of Secrets rumbled with power. A torrent of magic surged through the air—thick, heavy, and deadly.
The real fight was only just beginning.
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