The chill was fiercer than it looked.
Fawkes, caught unprepared, had his feathers dim significantly. He flared up in fla to prevent both himself and Dumbledore from being frostbitten.
But—
When fire t frost, thick steam rose, worsening visibility.
"Oh no, Fawkes." Dumbledore lifted his hand and waved his wand.
He cast a Weather Charm.
Instantly, the weather cleared. The fog and steam vanished, and the wind halted. But the hoarfrost remained, as fierce and heavy as when Dumbledore had first arrived.
This...
Dumbledore paused, surprised.
At his level, a Weather Charm should never work partially.
That ant—this was no ordinary frost.
Hoarfrost.
The word erged in his mind.
Only sothing as mysterious and powerful—sothing he'd once seen in a glimpse—could resist the effects of a spell cast with the Elder Wand.
The Wild Hunt?
Or Voldemort?
He couldn't say for sure. But he didn't need to know exactly who it was.
Despite the snowstorm, the brilliant blue magical thread was clearly visible—greedy, hungry, draining power from Hogwarts.
Whatever lay beneath that hoarfrost was only growing more terrifying.
Dumbledore raised his wand.
When it counted, he never hesitated.
Fiendfyre erupted—searing blue fire surged toward the hoarfrost, but had little effect. This was a power that could consu entire worlds, bring about the end—it devoured the Fiendfyre's magic as well.
Swallowing. Multiplying.
The hoarfrost grew even wilder.
Dumbledore changed tactics, waving his wand again.
Evanesco.
Part of the frost vanished instantly.
Though hoarfrost was formidable, it was still a material thing—hard to understand, but not immune to magic. And under the force of wizards' irrational belief—"I believe you don't exist, so you don't"—it complied. A portion disappeared.
But hoarfrost was a catastrophe, a world-ending plague. The vanishing spell only triggered sothing deep within it—causing it to surge madly once more.
Still—
Dumbledore could now see what lay hidden beneath it.
Like a scarecrow, arms stretched out, head drooping, stood Voldemort, encased in frost.
A link of magic tied Hogwarts to him.
"Repello Inimicum!"
Dumbledore pointed his wand. The blast struck Voldemort, who didn't dodge. He took the hit head-on, his body flying backward, landing on the thick ice of the lake. The magical tether stretched long and thin.
Dumbledore waved again.
The tether was severed.
He looked up cautiously.
He couldn't identify the ritual Voldemort had used.
But perhaps—
He had interrupted it?
Halfway through his fall, Voldemort stopped midair.
His arms dropped. His head lifted.
White magic gathered on him, forming a simple white robe.
"Dumbledore," he said, opening his eyes. His new voice, young and clear, matched his youthful face. "You ca quickly."
Voldemort stretched lazily.
"Feels good to have a body again."
"And this ti—young."
The ritual had not been interrupted.
In truth, it had ended the mont his body was re-ford.
And Voldemort had let it continue only to absorb more magic.
Hogwarts was a rare thing—a pure, side-effect-free source of magic that he could drain freely.
Dumbledore watched him, voice calm. "This is Hogwarts. I am its headmaster."
"Birth, aging, illness, and death—this is the fate of all."
Voldemort tilted his head, mocking. "Dumbledore, we are wizards."
"Not filthy Mudbloods."
"How could their fates compare to ours?"
"Tom, Muggles and wizards alike are still human," Dumbledore said gently.
But he didn't finish.
Voldemort's face turned cold. "Dumbledore, call Voldemort. Not that wretched na."
"Tom, don't run from your past," Dumbledore shook his head. "Voldemort?"
He raised his wand.
Golden script burst forth from it, spelling "Voldemort." With a flick, the letters reshaped into "Tom Riddle."
Voldemort didn't speak. He lifted a finger.
Hoarfrost surged like a wave.
Fawkes cried, fla swirling around Dumbledore. Pop!—they disappeared, reappearing beneath Voldemort on the frozen lake.
Dumbledore cast a spell.
The ice rose into giant hands, grasping for Voldemort.
He didn't move.
The massive hands clutched him—but that was it. They went still, inert. From the fingertips, thick frost crystals began to spread.
"Dumbledore," Voldemort smiled, "I'm not the sa as before."
"You're still you."
"That weak, aging wizard."
"But I—"
He grinned and tapped the ice with a finger. Crack! The sculpture shattered into ice blocks.
Amid the flying snow—
Voldemort's pale face and white robe nearly blended with the surroundings. His voice echoed from all directions:
"I've evolved—I'm beyond human now."
"Harry must've told you about Hoarfrost?"
"It's a world-ending calamity."
"Now, Hoarfrost is . And I am Hoarfrost."
He flung his arm up.
Torrential magic surged, and waves of frost swept the sky.
"Tom," Dumbledore stood below, wand raised high, "this isn't evolution. You've rely discarded the last piece of your humanity."
Voldemort laughed madly. "The human body is too weak—too limited!"
"Dumbledore, I don't want to be human anymore."
"Now, I am a disaster."
"A being greater than humanity."
"Greater even than the ancient wizards—a true god."
Inside the castle—
The disturbances from the Black Lake drew the attention of every professor.
They realized instantly—
Hogwarts was under attack.
The enemy was terrifyingly powerful.
Professor McGonagall hastily assigned her students self-study, cast her Patronus to notify the others, and rushed outside.
All the professors capable of combat acted as one.
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For 20 advance Chapters: /michaeltranslates
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