Harry Potter and the Secret Treasures

As the ghost Marcus began to tremble all over, at the ruins of the Veil of Death in the center of the lake, the Dark Witch’s magic reached its crucial moment. Countless ghosts howled and swirled in the air, emitting terrifying sounds. The surrounding phantoms became increasingly realistic, and the Veil of Death had fully materialized, as if it truly existed, its patterns and designs incredibly clear.

Harry’s scar was burning with unbearable pain. He tried his best to stay conscious, staring wide-eyed at the statue of the evil god before him.

Under the Dark Witch’s control, this terrifying statue, resembling an ugly tree stump, seemed to come alive. Its rootlike tendrils writhed wildly, devouring the souls, magic, and all traces of vital essence from the surrounding air, its ghastly green light growing increasingly blinding.

As the statue twisted and writhed, unintelligible whispers began to echo in Harry’s mind.

The deep voice grew increasingly ethereal — and increasingly frantic.

Harry tried to discern what the voice was saying, but he could make out nothing at all. He couldn’t understand a single word. It didn’t seem to belong to any language of this world. He tried to give up, to ignore the sounds, yet the whispers somehow remained terrifyingly clear.

Every word echoed in Harry’s mind, branding itself into his flesh, engraving itself into his soul.

Harry was on the verge of being driven mad by these voices. The light before his eyes grew dimmer, black shadows flickering in and out of view. Harry felt he had reached the limit of his endurance; the pain in his scar was so intense it felt as though his head were about to explode.

At that moment, the Dark Witch screamed wildly, snapping his attention back.

“Master, help me! Let the magic of yesteryear return! Let the evil of yesteryear see the light of day again!”

“No — you cannot do this!” The voices of the Ravenclaw ghosts grew ever fainter and more insubstantial. Entwined together, they clung tightly to the stone pillars, resisting the Dark Witch’s magic, preventing the spell to open the Veil of Death from manifesting, but their resistance grew weaker and weaker.

“Foolish witch, you would unleash Death once again!”

“Get out of here!”

“The ancient evil will destroy everything!”

“It cannot be allowed to return to this land!”

“Shut up!” the Dark Witch shouted, waving her wand. “Master, help me banish them!”

“I need more — more souls!” The cold, deep voice echoed again, this time exceptionally clear, a voice Harry could understand. He heard it distinctly say, “I will devour all of you!”

“Ah —!”

Suddenly, a shrill and terrible wail rang out across the square.

Harry turned his head with difficulty and saw a Dark wizard below howling in agony.

The man threw away his wand and clutched his ears with both hands, screaming for the voices to stop, to be silent. He flailed wildly, as though trying to drive off something invisible. Before long, he collapsed to his knees, sobbing and begging for mercy.

No matter how much he pleaded, the evil god did not spare him. Driven mad by the evil god’s whispers, the man clawed his own throat open with his bare hands. Death seemed to be a release for him.

After he died, a milky-white soul was swiftly pulled from his corpse.

Still dazed and barely aware of its surroundings, it was seized by the tendrils stretching out from the statue of the evil god and devoured.

Light and shadow twisted, the radiance of the statue of the evil god grew stronger and ever more uncanny, and the whispers in Harry’s mind quickened once again.

A series of wails echoed across the square as more and more Dark wizards were driven mad by the voices in their heads. Their souls were quickly devoured by the statue of the evil god. The Dark wizards who remained wore solemn expressions, ignoring their crazed companions and letting them die.

It was a horrific nightmare!

One Dark wizard after another died, killing themselves in cruel and brutal ways, until none were left.

Compared to these horrific deaths, the Killing Curse seemed far too merciful, killing instantly.

At this moment, the entire ruin had become hell. Harry had never witnessed anything so terrifying. He felt that he, too, had reached his limit. The pain in his scar and the whispers of the evil god were driving him to madness; if he had not been bound to the pillar, he would surely have killed himself as well.

The light before his eyes was extremely dim, with countless dark shadows flickering and shifting.

In sync with the evil god’s whispers, the Dark Witch howled madly. Her voice was hoarse, and her entire body visibly shriveled at an alarming rate. Her beauty vanished, and she reverted to her true form — a face as monstrous as a creature from a nightmare.

Magic surged, and the Dark Witch’s tattered cloak billowed high, making her appear like a hideous Dementor.

“Such delicious souls!” the evil god’s voice echoed once more.

Under the influence of magic, the terrifying statue had detached from the Dark Witch’s embrace, floating high in the air above the spectral image of the Veil of Death, devouring more and more souls, forming a swirling vortex of souls around it.

Amidst the wailing, Harry vaguely heard it say, “Monsters of nightmare, submit to me!”

The next second, everything went black, plunging him into complete darkness. He knew he had finally reached the end of his endurance and at last found release. Apart from the throbbing pain in his scar, he could no longer hear the evil god’s maddening voice.

The whole world fell silent at once!

Harry breathed a heavy sigh of relief. Although he was still worried about what might be happening in the real world, this release didn’t seem so unbearable. In the infinite darkness, he could see nothing, falling and falling, not knowing where he might end up.

But soon, Harry realized that he was still bound to the pillar, and hazy light and shadows emerged once more.

The surroundings were still dark, but now he could see that the previously indistinct black shapes had become clear.

These shadows were all wizards, scattered around the Veil of Death, dressed in magnificent, ancient robes, somewhat like the formal dress robes students wore at the Yule Ball during the Triwizard Tournament, but even more retro in style, and adorned with Ravenclaw insignia.

Harry shouted, but the wizards around him ignored him, as if they hadn’t seen him or heard his voice. There was not the slightest trace of life about them. They moved according to prescribed motions, carrying out a strange and uncanny ritual.

“Is this a memory? Like the Pensieve!” Harry reacted at once. The scene before him gave exactly the same sensation as being inside Dumbledore’s Pensieve; just last year, he and Evan had entered Dumbledore’s memories many times.

He looked around and found that everything had changed drastically. No longer ruins, all the buildings were intact, and the Veil of Death was also intact — the very same gate deep beneath the Ministry of Magic, with a brand-new veil hanging from it.

Not far from him, the figure of the Dark Witch appeared, along with the figure of the wizard standing beside her.

“Ha ha ha, we’ve succeeded! Great and all-powerful Master, with its help, the ancient magic of the Ravenclaw family will be restored before our eyes, and we shall finally obtain the secret of the Veil of Death!” the Dark Witch said in a shrill voice.