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Chapter 111: Young Soul from Fifty Years Ago (Part 2)
🕑 Added 2025-04-09 12:38:48 +0000 UTCRiddle recruited himself?
Noah looked bewildered.
This guy’s serious? That’s hilarious.
He didn’t spare it much thought. After all, he was a Wizard with a bright future. Even without the Ancient One, his path ahead was bright. Why would he throw it all away to join some underground rebellion like a street rat?
Even if they somehow succeeded in Britain with his help—what then?
Would he just wait around to perish alongside them?
Or be hunted down like vermin, living each day in fear and solitude until he withered away?
That’s not the life I want, Noah thought. Trying to trick me into joining? Not happening.
His expression turned solemn. He wasn’t going to waste more time talking with Riddle.
Who knows if he’s just stalling for time? Because the longer we wait, the closer he gets to full resurrection!
But Noah wasn’t overly worried about Riddle’s revival. In fact, maybe it was better this way.
Because a young Voldemort wasn’t nearly as dangerous as the dark overlord he’d later become.
As long as Noah could act quickly—and with precision—to destroy the remaining Horcruxes, it would mean this was the final one.
But once this Horcrux completed the resurrection ritual… it would cost Ginny her life.
Noah and Ginny had no personal connection. They hadn’t exchanged a single word. But Noah couldn’t just stand by.
He could be ruthless toward his enemies, yes—but he wasn’t heartless toward the innocent.
Especially when the life at stake was that of a child.
“It seems I’m not cut out to be a hero,” Noah muttered to himself, smiling bitterly. “But at the very least… I’m a proper Wizard, right?”
Noah didn’t have the cold detachment of a true hero. But as a Wizard? He had standards—and he had pride.
And if a Wizard disliked something? They didn't argue—they responded with magic.
Noah was no different.
I just don’t like you, you bastard.
So what if you're handsome now? You’ll end up noseless, bald, and look like a damn snake anyway.
Noah didn’t waste another second. His wand erupted with golden light, and a glowing magical ring etched with ancient runes spun at its tip.
He chanted rapidly—at near-inhuman speed—and slashed his wand through the air. A sharp gust of golden-tinged wind blades exploded toward Riddle!
Riddle had been watching closely. He wasn’t foolish enough to let these students roam free—especially not a Ravenclaw.
Yes, he had considered recruiting Noah. But he also knew the boy was Muggle-born.
Which doesn’t fit my ideals, Riddle thought coldly.
So the moment Noah acted, Riddle was ready. He drew his wand instantly and cast Protego Maxima, surrounding himself with protective layers of enchanted armor.
The golden wind blades collided violently with Riddle’s shield, triggering a shockwave that sent both Harry and Draco tumbling backward.
“Stay out of this!” Noah barked, eyes fixed on Riddle. “This is not your fight.”
Honestly, Noah hadn’t expected Riddle to even have a wand.
Didn’t he show up empty-handed in the book?
Back then, Harry had just used a basilisk fang to stab the diary. That was the end of it.
But now? The diary had passed from Professor McGonagall to—likely—Dumbledore.
Ginny’s condition seemed more serious than expected, and now this diary-Horcrux Riddle had a wand?
You’ve got to be kidding me.
“Prepared, are we?” Noah narrowed his eyes.
“Of course,” Riddle replied with a smile. “This wand belonged to Miss Weasley. It’s not perfect, but it’ll do.”
And even as he spoke, Riddle didn’t pause. The tip of his wand flashed silver—and in the next instant, he launched a powerful spell toward Noah.
“Fiendfyre!”
Riddle wasn’t pulling punches. He went straight for advanced Dark Magic.
Within seconds, cursed flames erupted in all directions—blazing toward Noah like a wave of hellfire.
The Fiendfyre Curse was infamous among black magic users. It was easy to learn but incredibly difficult to control—so much so that many dark wizards avoided it entirely.
But not Riddle. His prodigious talent allowed him to both summon and control Fiendfyre with precision.
He won’t survive this, Riddle thought smugly.
But his confidence lasted only seconds.
The Fiendfyre surged toward Noah—then stopped cold.
The cursed flames hovered mere inches from the Ravenclaw boy—unable to move forward.
What? Riddle’s eyes widened.
Only then did he notice it—the shimmering golden barrier surrounding Noah.
An almost invisible Elemental Shield pulsed gently under the flickering flames. If not for the glow from the Fiendfyre, Riddle might have missed it entirely.
“Elemental magic? Who are you?” Riddle said slowly, his expression tightening.
He now realized he might be in serious trouble.
Elemental Magic wasn’t taught in wizarding schools. Magic, broadly, had three tiers.
The first was Academic Magic—taught at places like Hogwarts. Simple, practical spells that most wizards spent their entire lives mastering.
But that was the problem. The vast majority never advanced beyond Hogwarts-level magic.
Unless… they were lucky enough to be discovered by powerful magical organizations—places like Kamar-Taj.
Unlike Hogwarts, Kamar-Taj didn’t take many students. But those they did take were taught Advanced and Elemental Magic from the start.
And that made all the difference.
Above elemental magic was High Arcana—spells invented by elite Wizards that aligned perfectly with their own magical philosophy.
The problem was, most magical advancement depended on chance. Without the right teacher, most wizards never evolved.
Noah, however, had been incredibly lucky to meet the Ancient One.
Then again… I have a system, Noah thought. Even without her, I’d have found a way.
“You talk too much,” Noah said coldly. His magic surged.
Chanting lowly, he began shaping the very elements around him. The magic became so dense it warped the air, visible even to the naked eye.
“You like fire, right? Then feel it.”
Noah’s wand gleamed. The ancient ring of runes spun faster and faster.
The temperature spiked. Waves of heat rolled outward in all directions.
Harry and Draco stumbled farther back, struggling against the rising heat.
Draco stared in awe and fear. He’d been terrified when he learned this was Voldemort—but now?
Now he feared Noah more.
Twelve-year-old Noah… facing a sixteen-year-old Voldemort head-on?!
And Voldemort’s magic wasn’t even working on him!
What did that say about Noah’s future?
Not to mention his mysterious teacher—a Wizard so powerful that even the professors avoided talking about her.
“Noah is terrifying,” Draco muttered, unable to hold it in.
“You’re worried about Voldemort?” Harry glanced sideways. “Seriously?”
“I—” Draco faltered, then shut up.
“Hmph. You Death Eaters… your fate was sealed long ago. Just like Noah said,” Harry added, his wand still drawn—ready for anything.
“BOOM!”
Noah finished his incantation and flicked his wand.
The golden ring at its tip expanded rapidly—like a magic portal opening mid-air.
From the center of the ring, a deafening roar echoed.
In the blink of an eye, countless fire dragons burst forth, roaring as they soared straight at Riddle.
The searing inferno bore down on him like an unstoppable tide, ready to burn everything in its path.
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