Harry Potter and the Secret Treasures

The green and red lights wanted to merge. At least Voldemort wanted to do so, Harry could clearly feel it.

But the statue he now embodied, or the monster hidden inside the statue, was in a confrontation with Voldemort and Harry.

It had its own will and did not want to be fused with Voldemort.

This resistance wouldn’t last long, as it was too weak, as if it had suffered a severe blow and had not recovered.

It possessed powerful strength, but it wasn’t in this space, and it was bound by an inexplicable force, unable to come.

What could reach this world was just a trace of its will, nothing more.

Fusion was a matter of time, and Harry could clearly feel its reluctance and impending victory.

Harry didn’t know why Voldemort wanted to fuse him with this statue. What was the purpose of doing so?

But there was no doubt that this was an evil magic that made him feel extremely uncomfortable.

Just then, a man walked out of the shadows and came to Harry.

Harry spotted him immediately because he actually smelled the other person’s scent.

It was strange, but it was true. He discovered the person ahead of time by relying on his nose rather than his eyes.

“The smell of food!” a strange voice sounded in Harry’s mind. “I’ve changed my mind, give him to me, and the thing related to him, we will cooperate, and I will help you get the power you need to achieve immortality.”

It was not him speaking, but the weird statue he had turned into, and Voldemort agreed!

In the blink of an eye, Harry felt that he and the statue were completely integrated. He became a part of the statue. The monster disappeared but did not leave.

The moon once again emerged from the thick dark clouds. Through the moonlight, Harry saw that this was a man wearing elegant black wizard robes and a stern face.

It was the vampire, the guy named Caresius.

Absolutely … Harry had seen his picture in the newspapers many times, and he was still wanted by the Ministry of Magic.

Evan had said that this vampire was not a bad person, or at least not as bad as the rumors said.

Caresius held a wand in his hand and looked at the statues that Voldemort and Harry had turned into with a cautious expression.

He seemed to be hesitating, but his eyes became more and more determined.

Caresius said something that Harry didn’t hear clearly, but Voldemort didn’t move.

After a few seconds, Caresius seemed to have made up his mind about what he was going to do, but no matter what, Harry hoped he wouldn’t come any closer.

Because he felt that the dormant beast in his body had awakened. After the complete fusion, Harry had accumulated some strength. It was looking forward to the other party’s approach. It regarded this vampire as food. The first food after the fusion was far more attractive than the ordinary hollow flesh on the surrounding ground.

As long as he got closer, just a little closer, then it could devour him, making itself stronger.

Caresius walked over, carefully avoiding Voldemort, the tip of his wand flashing a dark red glow.

The accumulated magic power became stronger and stronger. He raised his wand high and swept it through the air.

The wand tip shook gently, making a complex and profound movement, and a magic rune appeared.

From the magic rune, a powerful and terrifying power surged out, a power that was enough to destroy everything.

The next second, he brought the wand down onto Harry, onto the statue. A dark light flashed…

A sky-high light flashed, and Harry’s forehead hurt terribly… It was aching fit to burst! He didn’t know what was happening, and he didn’t see clearly.

As the light flashed, he only saw Caresius being thrown backward, with a look of disbelief on his face. The right hand holding the wand still maintained the same position as before.

The vampire’s body was bleeding, and the essence of magic and life flowed out with the blood and was absorbed by this terrible monster.

He struggled to get up, but the blood-red light immediately enveloped Caresius. He could not break free, and his life was gradually fading.

He must be helped, but Harry couldn’t do anything. The scar on his forehead was getting more painful!

Blood slowly flowed away, and this vampire was being devoured by him, by the demon he had turned into. Everything was about to end…

“Harry! Harry!”

He opened his eyes. Every inch of his body was covered in icy sweat; his bedcovers were twisted all around him like a straitjacket…

He felt as though a white-hot poker was being applied to his forehead, unbearable.

“Harry!”

Ron was standing over him looking extremely frightened. There were more figures at the foot of Harry’s bed.

Harry couldn’t distinguish who they were. He clutched his head in his hands; the pain was blinding him… He rolled right over and vomited over the edge of the mattress.

“He’s really ill,” said a scared voice. “Should we call someone?”

“Harry! Harry!”

“Go and call Evan, hurry up!” Harry took great gulps of air and pushed himself up in bed, willing himself not to throw up again, the pain half-blinding him. “Something happened. I can see it. Voldemort and that vampire … he’s being eaten alive, he’s dying!”

“What are you saying?” Ron didn’t understand.

“Go find Evan and Dumbledore, hurry up, if it’s a little later, he’ll die!”

“I’m going for help,” said the same scared voice, and Harry heard footsteps running out of the dormitory.

“Harry, mate,” said Ron uncertainly, “you … you were just dreaming. There is no You-Know-Who, no vampire, and no one is going to die.”

“No!” said Harry furiously. “It wasn’t a dream … not an ordinary dream… I saw it, I was there, my scar hurt, do you understand?! I saw Voldemort cast an evil spell, I saw the completion of that spell, and the life of that vampire slowly fading away… it was me … I did it.”

Harry could hear Seamus and Dean muttering but did not care. He had to hurry up and do something.

Evan had said that Caresius and his vampire clan were very important; he couldn’t let him die like this. And Evan had also told him that if he saw anything, he must inform him immediately, because of the connection between him and Voldemort, these absurd dreams were likely to be true.

Of course, it was possible that it was fake and Voldemort showed it to him on purpose, but Harry didn’t think it was.

The only strange part was why he ended up turning into a statue. What was Voldemort planning to do?

And that devilishly cold voice, whom was it? Where did it end up? It needed to obtain something related to Caresius, but what was it?

And the final magic … it could actually defeat a powerful vampire in one fell swoop, absorbing his life force to strengthen itself.

Harry thought of the scene he’d seen last term, in that house in the mountains, in that black room without any light. The terrifying statue placed in the middle of the room, twisted like roots, emanating a red glow that seemed to choose its prey.

It was the statue of the evil god that Voldemort had obtained from the fallen Centaurs in the Albanian forest.

Harry had a feeling that he had just turned into this statue, fully fused with it, and become a new Horcrux.

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