✨ 300 gems = 1 bonus chapter
✨ 500 gems = another bonus chapter
***********
His body was falling fast. Aiden landed hard on the Devil's Snare, its tentacles writhing and trying to bind him.
"Ding, starting bondage play."
"Not bad, System, you're getting fancy," Aiden commented dryly.
Then he cast Deterrence. The Devil's Snare recoiled and scattered, fleeing from his power. Aiden continued to fall.
Just as he was about to hit the ground, Aiden cast Arresto Momentum to halt his descent.
After making his way through the corridor, he spotted a door covered in keys. Aiden cast a Disillusionment Charm on himself, then quietly opened the door and slipped inside.
Harry, Ron, and Hermione were too focused on their game of chess to notice the door had opened behind them.
"Ron, are we really playing 'real' Wizard's Chess?" Hermione asked nervously.
Ron didn't reply. He moved a chess piece to the D5 square.
The opposing chess piece guarding that space drew a long, thin knife and shattered Ron's probing piece.
"Yeah, it seems we are playing 'real' Wizard's Chess," Ron swallowed, his voice a bit shaky.
Aiden covered his mouth, stifling a laugh.
In fact, Harry and the others were too stressed to realise that if this chess game was purely for defense, there was no need to set up opposing chess pieces.
The gaps in the defensive formation were deliberate, but the three were too focused to notice.
Aiden also felt a magical connection to the chess pieces, which meant someone was remotely controlling them. Who at Hogwarts possessed such impressive Transfiguration skills?
Professor McGonagall must be furious. These three are in for a world of trouble, Aiden thought, stroking his chin with an amused smile.
As the chess game continued, a flaw appeared in the King's protective circle. The enemy chess piece moved toward Ron.
"Harry, we know. You have to move on. Not me, not Hermione."
Ron made the decision to sacrifice himself. The chess game ended, and they won. Harry moved forward.
A selfless sacrifice? No wonder Hermione ends up with Ron. A man willing to sacrifice himself is definitely attractive, Aiden mused from the sidelines.
But he couldn't just watch anymore. After all, Ron was now lying on the ground, "seriously injured."
Clap, clap, clap. A burst of applause echoed through the chamber. Hermione spun around, wand raised to protect Ron.
Aiden materialized from thin air. He looked at Hermione standing protectively over Ron and sighed softly at the strange ways fate worked.
"Aiden! What are you doing here?" Hermione asked, surprised.
"In the Far East, there is an ancient saying…. uh, never mind, wrong story," Aiden shook his head, clearing away the rogue thoughts. "A good chess player plans his strategy. I didn't expect Ronny to have this much talent for strategy. But it doesn't make sense that he couldn't see through this game. Is he really still that clueless?" Aiden gave Ron a look.
"Okay, stop being mean. What's going on?" Hermione said impatiently.
"Episkey."
Aiden waved his wand and simply healed Ron's injury.
"Wait for the Professor to explain. I have to go ahead and watch Harry, or Snape might kill me and turn me into a potion ingredient later."
Aiden waved goodbye to Hermione and vanished once more.
Up ahead, as Harry moved deeper into the chambers, his forehead tingled slightly. It felt like some force was trying to penetrate the protective amulet on his body.
At the end of the staircase, a tall, thin man stood in front of a large, ornate mirror, a turban wrapped around his head.
"It's you. This is impossible. It should have been Snape."
Harry was shocked.
"Yes, he does seem like a bad guy. With him around, who would suspect poor Professor Quirrell?"
Quirrell had finally stopped stuttering. But that was terrible news for Harry.
Quirrell then explained his actions, giving Harry the whole story.
Aiden sighed from the sidelines. The villain really does die from talking too much.
Quirrell's question hung in the air, the silence broken by a chilling whisper that seemed to slither through the chamber: "Use the boy."
Before Harry or Quirell could react, Aiden appeared as if from nowhere. A swift snap of Aiden's fingers, and Harry crumpled to the ground, unconscious. Aiden caught him, effortlessly lifting Harry and propping him against the cold stone wall.
"Harry, consider this a lesson. Always watch your back." Aiden's voice was soft, yet it cut through the heavy atmosphere.
Quirrell visibly recoiled, his face contorted in a strained grimace. "Aiden Prewett," he strained.
The chilling whisper slithered through the chamber again, seeming to emanate from Quirrell himself, yet distinctly separate. "Is this the Ravenclaw genius you mentioned? Let me see him."
Quirrell flinched, his hand instinctively going to his turban. "Master, you aren't strong enough yet," he pleaded, his voice a strange mix of deference and fear.
"Enough to deal with him," the voice rasped, dripping with ancient malice.
With trembling hands, Quirrell slowly, deliberately, began to unwind his turban. The heavy fabric fell away, revealing not the back of a normal head but something utterly grotesque. A face, pale and snake-like, with glaring red eyes, was embedded in Quirrell's flesh. Its lipless mouth twisted into a semblance of a smile.
Aiden's expression shifted from cool composure to open disgust. He wrinkled his nose, a subtle but clear indication of his revulsion. "Ugh, disgusting."
The parasitic face's eyes, glowing with an unnatural light, fixed on Aiden. "Look at you," Voldemort's voice echoed, stronger now, resonating with a chilling power. "Young, full of ambition, just like I used to be. Join me. I will share eternity with you." The offer was a silken trap, laced with promises of power.
Aiden tilted his head, a flicker of amusement in his eyes. "Don't you even have a second set of lines for recruiting people?" he asked, his tone genuinely curious, as if discussing a poorly written play.
Voldemort's red eyes narrowed, a flicker of recognition within them. "It's you! The man at the Quidditch pitch last time. What did Dumbledore give you to make you work so hard for him? Gold? Power? Secrets?"
Aiden's lips curved into a slight, beautiful arc, a smile that held no warmth for the Dark Lord. "Friendship, courage, and love."
The air crackled. Voldemort's grotesque face contorted, the pale skin stretching taut over bone. A low, guttural snarl ripped from his throat, the sound of pure, unadulterated fury. The temperature in the chamber seemed to plummet.
"Do you think Dumbledore will mourn for you?" Voldemort shrieked, his voice a raw nerve of rage. "KILL HIM!"
Quirrell, his own face a mask of terror and subservience, jerked into motion. With a sharp snap of his fingers, not unlike Aiden's earlier, tongues of violent, unnatural fire erupted from the stone floor, instantly sealing every archway, every potential exit, bathing the chamber in a hellish, flickering orange light. The roar of the flames filled the sudden, suffocating silence.
Then, he lunged at Aiden, hand outstretched, aiming to strangle him.
Still has some strength left. He can cast spells without a wand, but it's a pity he's unwilling to teach us properly.
Aiden's eyes widened as he cast Deterrence, pushing Quirrell backward.
Surprised by the force of the spell, Quirrell took out his wand and fired a blasting curse at Aiden. Aiden casually deflected the spell.
Suddenly, Aiden felt a mental shock. But unfortunately, it had no effect.
"You've already lost your body, and you can still launch Legilimency, capturing thoughts over a large area without even eye contact?" Aiden was surprised.
"Yes. Do you want to learn? Join me, Aiden Prewett. I am willing to share my glory with you. You can become my disciple and wield power far beyond those expendable talents."
Voldemort tempted Aiden again.
But he didn't stop his own attacks.
"Avada—"
"Rampage(Frenzy)." Aiden's dragon eyes flared, instantly detonating Voldemort's negative emotions.
"You never learn," Aiden rolled his eyes.
The Rampage ability was very effective against Dark Wizards. They needed negative emotions to use Dark Arts. Aiden figured to give them a Rampage and let them explode themselves, and there goes their resistance.
"Voldemort'shad been taken offline, leaving the weak Quirrell lying on the ground, barely alive.
So, Aiden drawled, his gaze fixed on the prone form of Quirrell, "Now that the entertainment's concluded, what exactly do you plan to do, Headmaster?" though the question hung in the air unanswered by his previous vacant look. Then beside Aiden, a silver-haired figure with half-moon spectacles materialised, the faint magical aura around him shimmering like moonlight on snow.
"Whoa, careful now with the implications, Aiden," Dumbledore said, smiling as he took off the Invisibility Cloak.
"Maybe," Aiden said casually, not wanting to discuss it too much.
Dumbledore sighed, his shoulders slumping slightly. "Quirinus is beyond help. And as for Tom… well, he's always been elusive." He spread his hands in a gesture that was either of resignation or carefully calculated theatre. "What a waste," Aiden replied tonelessly. "So with all that power, all you can do is just watch a show?"
"My dear boy, even an old man can appreciate a well-staged performance. However… that protective item you gave to Harry seems very interesting. It is unlike anything I've seen before." Dumbledore's eyes twinkling with curiosity, he extended his hand out in anticipation, "Can you make one for me too later?"
Aiden ignored him and went to check on Quirrell, whose body was crumbling to dust.
Voldemort's soul flew out of Quirrell's remains, trying to pass through Aiden's body.
Then, he slammed into Aiden and bounced back.
During the collision, Aiden saw a glimpse of the truth about Voldemort: a shattered soul and a completely twisted mind.
***********
Get access to advanced chapters at my P@treon.
[email protected]/meowthtl