Voldemort was dead. Just like that.
The Dark Lord who had cast a shadow over the wizarding world for decades—
Had been unceremoniously smashed to death by the massive green figure that had suddenly appeared.
Dumbledore stood there, dazed. Harry Potter was equally stunned. The crowd of professors and students standing at the castle entrance—all of them had the sa blank, vacant expressions.
The scene was utterly silent.
So silent, it felt as if they were waiting for a priest to step forward, erect a cenotaph for Voldemort, and solemnly declare his passing: An, may your sins be buried with you.
Hmm.. Do they believe in Jesus or rlin?
The evening wind howled across the grasslands, whipping their wizard robes like fluttering cloaks.
They stood in the wind, draped in their flowing black garnts, blending seamlessly into the twilight—
Like mourners at the onset of a funeral.
How fitting. Voldemort had just died, and Hogwarts had, quite conveniently, held a funeral for him on the spot.
Only, this was a funeral filled not with grief, but with barely restrained laughter.
"Voldemort… is dead?"
In the hush of the wind, a young wizard hesitantly asked.
His voice trembled—not just with excitent, but with fear, afraid that this was all too good to be true.
"He… he's dead, right? That big guy smashed him to dust." The Weasley twins stood shoulder to shoulder, arms draped around each other.
"But… wasn't the prophecy supposed to say that Harry would be the one to defeat Voldemort?" Ron asked, puzzled.
"Maybe… just standing there counted as taking part in the battle? So technically, that ans he did defeat Voldemort?"
The young wizards looked at each other, uncertain. None of them dared to outright declare that Voldemort was truly dead.
They had grown up hearing about the Dark Lord's terrifying legend, his na whispered in fear.
And yet, this man—whose na they had been too afraid to even speak—
Had just died in the most abrupt, unceremonious way possible, right in front of them?
It was almost unbelievable.
"You're right. He's dead. Completely, utterly dead—not even a trace of him remains."
A voice suddenly ca from the side.
They turned their heads and saw Dumbledore.
He had been transported to the castle entrance by the Sorcerer Supre's golden portal.
Dumbledore smiled slightly. "Go see for yourselves. Witness the death of Voldemort. And more importantly—don't forget to cheer for the hero who made it happen. His na is Hulk."
…
anwhile, Hulk was still standing there, looking around in confusion.
Hulk even flipped over a few stones, searching for the surprisingly durable Voldemort.
But no matter where he looked, he couldn't find him.
It wasn't until Lyon walked over and told him that Squidward had already turned to dust that Hulk finally realized.
The punching bag from earlier was dead.
"Too weak!" He pouted in disappointnt, clearly unsatisfied.
His eyes shifted, scanning for a new target—And landed directly on Snape.
"…!"
Cold sweat instantly broke out on Snape's back.
He took a step backward, hurriedly declaring, "I—I'm on your side!"
"ROAR!"
Hulk wasn't stupid. That guy had clearly been standing with Squidward earlier.
But before things could escalate, Lyon pulled him back.
"Hulk, you can't only think about smashing things." Lyon patted Hulk's arm. "Look over there—you just helped them in a big way."
"Hulk?"
Confused, Hulk turned to where Lyon was pointing.
A swarm of tiny wizards was rushing toward him.
Their cheers were deafening, a mixture of high-pitched young voices and cracking adolescent ones, buzzing like a swarm of bees returning to their hive.
Hulk's eyes flashed with confusion, and he instinctively clenched his fists.
"Relax. They're here to thank you. Maybe you could even ask them for so food?"
Lyon pried open Hulk's fists and stepped aside.
The next second, the towering, two-ter-tall Hulk was completely sward by young wizards.
The little ones chattered excitedly around him—one saying he was incredible, another praising his amazing Transfiguration.
So even bounced up and down, gushing about how cool his move against Voldemort had been.
For the first ti, Hulk was utterly overwheld.
He still didn't fully grasp the gratitude of these tiny humans. But their wide, sparkling eyes and sheer excitent radiated an undeniable joy that sohow reached deep into his heart.
With both hands raised, he awkwardly looked left and right, suddenly worried that he might accidentally hurt these fragile little human cubs.
"OHOHO! My friend, you are absolutely incredible! That was Voldemort—and you actually killed him!"
At that mont, the massive three-and-a-half-ter-tall Hagrid squeezed into the crowd like an overgrown child—
And wrapped Hulk in a giant bear hug.
Hulk was clearly stunned. Since the mont of his creation, he had never seen anyone that much taller than himself.
In Hagrid's embrace, he suddenly looked like a green dwarf.
Lyon chuckled from the side and spoke to Banner's floating soul, "See? Hulk is just like you—deep down, he's a kind soul."
"Well, they are technically the sa soul," Tony analyzed. "So of the mories must overlap. He's really just another side of you, Banner."
Banner's expression grew complicated.
Every ti Hulk erged in the past, he would lose consciousness and all mory of what happened.
He had never truly understood the being lurking within his own soul.
All he had ever seen were the ruins of collapsed buildings and the endless bounty notices that followed each transformation.
So, for the longest ti, he had believed that Hulk was nothing more than a monster—and had spent years searching for a way to kill that monster.
But now, watching Hulk standing among the young wizards, grinning foolishly as they surrounded him, for the first ti, he wondered if Hulk's existence wasn't entirely a bad thing.
Because that was who Bruce Banner was—always kind, always empathetic.
"…Maybe you're right," Banner murmured, pressing his lips together. "I should try to communicate with him."
On the other side, the professors had surrounded Snape and the Malfoy mother and son.
At first, they intended to imdiately subdue the three Death Eaters.
However, after Dumbledore's explanation, all three were successfully redeed and cleared of suspicion, achieving a rather tidy resolution.
Narcissa and Draco Malfoy broke down in tears, having endured endless humiliation and suffering under Voldemort's rule.
As for Snape, who had always been a double agent, he felt a deep sense of completion—his long, arduous journey of redemption had finally co to an end.
He stood in the wind, gazing up at the clouds, silent tears trailing down the deep lines of his face, lost in thought.
In the end, Dumbledore led the professors toward Lyon and his group, expressing their deepest gratitude and their anticipation for future magical exchanges.
And amidst it all, a rather clueless Hulk—still standing among the young wizards—joined them in bowing toward Lyon's group, simply following the crowd.
"Hey, big guy! You are with us, rember?"
"Bhahaha"
After that ca the grand celebration of Voldemort's defeat.
That night, the Great Hall of Hogwarts was brightly lit, with every long table packed with the finest dishes the house-elves could prepare.
Lyon and his companions were invited to sit at the professors' table, dining together with everyone.
anwhile, Hulk sat with the young wizards, who kept handing him entire roasted chickens, eagerly watching as he devoured them in a single bite—then cheering in amazent.
Eventually, a full-blown line ford around him, as students took turns feeding him in what had beco an impromptu ga.
For the first ti, Hulk felt like he had friends and plenty of good food.
Hulk was happier than ever.
anwhile, Banner's floating soul hovered nearby, constantly muttering, Stop eating. You're going to get sick.
Unfortunately, the only response he got was Hulk's impatient, giant hand waving him away.
_________
Read 15 Chapters ahead at my Patreon: LiveLifeLove
Reviews
All reviews (0)