"boom!!!"

The secret room filled with thick steam was like a foggy valley.

The light of the spell spread in the water vapor, as beautiful as a nebula.

"ah!"

Voldemort did not hear Harry's scream, but in fact, he made the sound himself. At the moment when he hit Harry, he seemed to have hit himself as well, and the fatal pain tore through his soul and made his body fly backwards like a rag.

“Snap!”

He fell to the ground in a panic, unconscious as if he was dead.

Cyrus didn't react much. Although he also had Voldemort's soul, he had already completely devoured and digested those soul fragments, and they no longer had any effect on him.

He glanced at Harry through the fog.

The boy looked peaceful as if he was asleep. The Resurrection Stone slipped from his palm, glowing slightly.

Then, Cyrus looked at Voldemort again.

This guy's soul was linked to Harry, and the spell he cast to kill Harry also killed his own soul!

Voldemort must be very weak now.

However, Cyrus also knew that compared to the broken soul of Voldemort in the original book, the soul of this Voldemort was much fuller. His weak state would not last long, and he would probably wake up soon.

Now is the best time to kill him!

But Cyrus did not move towards Voldemort.

In fact, he walked up to Harry, half-knelt down, stretched out his hand and placed his palm on Harry's wound -

In this world where Dumbledore is still alive, there might not be a wise man at Harry's Soul Station to guide him. It would not be good if he got confused and chose death on his own.

Cyrus had promised to keep him alive, so Harry must not die.

He took up his snakewood wand and put it against his head -

Consciousness is sinking.

It's like being immersed in a silent and tranquil sea.

The world first became pitch black, then gradually became brighter. Cyrus was surrounded by thick white fog, which was different from ordinary clouds. It looked like something that had not yet taken shape and emitted a faint light.

After a while, Cyrus felt himself touching the ground.

"Memory, this is probably the magic I am best at." He thought.

His body soon gained some control over this world that was no less powerful than his.

He walked forward - in fact, he didn't know which side was in front of him, because the scenery around him was exactly the same. This place was like London in the 1940s and 1950s, a real foggy city.

You can't see the train, you can't see the people who are right next to you, you can't see anything.

But this was not a problem because he knew he would find his target soon.

Sure enough, he soon found Harry who had just woken up.

Harry looked more surprised than anything to see Cyrus.

"Cyrus?! You are dead too?" He almost jumped up. Although he had a thousand and ten thousand questions in his head, the moment he saw Cyrus, the first thing he wanted to do was to confirm Cyrus' safety.

He obviously regarded this place as the world after death.

But Cyrus found it a bit eye-catching - Harry had just woken up and he was not wearing anything.

"You'd better put on your clothes first. I guess if Dumbledore were here, he might be happy to comment on your little wand." He just waved his hand, and Harry appeared in a set of robes exactly the same as the one he usually wore.

The collar is fiery red, representing the brave Gryffindor.

It also represents the brave and fearless Harry Potter! Then, Cyrus waved his hand again, and a chair that could accommodate two or three people sitting side by side appeared. He invited the blushing Harry to sit down like the owner of the place.

"Sit down, I hope you don't want to drink black tea now, otherwise I won't be able to transform." Cyrus joked.

"Where is this?" Harry asked in surprise, "I thought I was dead, and you - you shouldn't be dead?"

He looked at Cyrus uncertainly.

Now there is a bad idea in my mind.

What if his death had no effect on Voldemort? Perhaps Cyrus would not be Voldemort's opponent, after all, he and Dumbledore gave him the Hallows and powerful power. They are now at their weakest.

But what about me? 'I let them down?'

'I didn't do it...'

"No, you did, and you did it very well." Cyrus once again saw through Harry's thoughts.

This was a relief to Harry, but also very strange.

"How do you know what I'm thinking? Even Voldemort can't read my mind." He asked, "Your Legilimency is so powerful..."

Hearing Harry say this, Cyrus shook his head and laughed.

"No, it's not that my Legilimency is strong, nor that your Occlumency is not good enough. It's because I know you." Cyrus said, "You are brave and kind. I believe that the first time you saw me, you must have worried about my safety and whether Voldemort was still alive."

“You always care about others first, then yourself.”

After hearing what Cyrus said, Harry lowered his head a little embarrassedly. He didn't know if he deserved Cyrus' praise.

But he still asked: "So, is Voldemort dead?"

But Cyrus did not answer him immediately.

Voldemort's life or death is not important to Harry now. What he needs to do is to bring Harry back to the world of the living. And this cannot be done by brute force.

The three Deathly Hallows are not omnipotent. They give Harry a chance to survive, but whether he can seize it depends on his own efforts.

"Let's go back to your previous question." Cyrus looked around and asked, "Where is this?"

Harry was obviously stumped.

"I thought you knew. I thought this was your place."

"No, this place belongs to you."

Harry stood up from his chair and looked around. At first, his mind was on Cyrus and he didn't pay attention to the surroundings at all. Now it looked a bit like King's Cross Station.

The magical thing is that when he thought this, the scenery here actually became the same as King's Cross Station.

The ancient platform extended from under their feet, and the dome above their heads was higher than the Hogwarts Great Hall! Harry smiled as he looked at the broad stone pillars. He thought there might be a passage in these pillars, leading to Platform 9 and Hogwarts.

"It seems like you already have an idea, right?"

Cyrus said with a smile.

For Harry, King's Cross Station is an extraordinary place. It is from here that he crossed the Muggle world and came to the place that he could call home.

The owl letter was a beginning, and Diagon Alley was also a beginning, but it was here that his real adventure began.

Just then Harry heard something else - a tiny thumping sound as if something was flapping and thrashing and struggling.

He suddenly felt worried, but also a little disgusted, as if something dirty appeared in such a neat and beautiful palace, which made him feel very uncomfortable.

He looked in the direction of the sound and found that the source of the sound was actually right under the chair he had just sat on - there was a naked baby, curled up on the ground, its skin was red and rough, and it looked like it had been skinned, shivering as it lay under a seat, abandoned and crammed there randomly, struggling to breathe.

"What's that?" He took a step back.

The thing was extremely weak, but it made Harry feel a little scared. He instinctively didn't want to get close to it, as if it was covered with bacteria.

"What do you think?" Cyrus stood beside him and commented on the thing with him.

"What else is so ugly, so weak, and so unapproachable?"

A light flashed in Harry's head: "Voldemort!"

Although Voldemort looks handsome now, his ugly soul is still so small and smelly.

"It's the soul inside my scar, isn't it?"

"Yes." Cyrus looked at the thing emotionlessly. Voldemort's soul stretched out its short, red arms towards him, as if begging for his help.

But Cyrus was unmoved.

This pathetic thing should have disappeared from this world long ago.

"Is he dead?" Harry asked. He even looked sympathetic.

"Not yet," Cyrus sneered, picking up the wand and pointing it at the thing, "Flames!"

Then, in front of Harry's surprised eyes, he burned the fragment of Voldemort's soul into ashes!

"Now dead."

"I see." Harry nodded dully.

Then he thought of something else: "What about me, am I dead too? I remember his spell hit me and I didn't resist, so I just planned to let him kill me." He reached out and touched his chest, but strangely, there was no pain there and no wound.

"You are not dead, Harry." After Cyrus destroyed Voldemort's soul, he became kind again. He was like an older brother next door, patiently explaining things to Harry.

"Neither Dumbledore nor I intended for you to die, Harry," he said. "The three Deathly Hallows will protect your life. Do you understand now why I let you keep the Resurrection Stone?"

Harry opened his palm in a daze. He didn't know when the Resurrection Stone appeared in his palm.

"Voldemort's killing curse killed his own soul, but your soul was protected. The three Hallows may not make you invincible, but they make you the master of death." Cyrus said.

"They can't bring the dead back to life, but they give you a chance to survive. Remember the story of the Grim Reaper and the three brothers?" Cyrus asked.

Harry nodded.

"You mean, the third brother used the cloak to escape the pursuit of the Grim Reaper?"

"I mean you face death bravely." Cyrus looked straight into Harry's eyes. The two people's eyes were like four crystal clear gems colliding together. Cyrus' voice changed its tone.

"The third brother lived until he was very old, and finally took off the invisibility cloak and handed it to his son. Then he greeted death like an old friend, and happily left the world with him as an equal."

Harry didn't understand.

Cyrus had to say a little more specifically: “Voldemort has been looking for a way to be immortal, and he thought that immortality meant conquering death, but in reality he was just escaping death, understand?

“It is because you face death bravely that you can truly become the master of death.”

"When you fought Voldemort, he always had the upper hand, but the Elder Wand did not abandon you and choose him. Why?"

Harry was obviously lost in thought, but Cyrus volunteered the answer.

"Because the Elder Wand didn't want to choose him."

"He is not worthy of wielding the Deathly Hallows."

"So... you and Dumbledore knew I wasn't going to die?" Harry asked. He looked a little angry.

He felt that Cyrus must feel stupid now. He had prepared himself so much and thought that he would die. He was secretly sad and upset in these nights...

"I'm such an idiot," he fumed.

But Cyrus shook his head and retorted: "In fact, Dumbledore and I agree that you are extremely brave."

"Okay, let's go back." He reached out and patted Harry's shoulder.

Then the two of them stood there, and after a while, Harry realized that nothing had happened.

He felt a little embarrassed: "Um, aren't we going back?" Harry asked. He probably thought Cyrus would take him away.

"Yes, but how you leave is up to you," said Cyrus.

He didn't look at Harry, but instead looked at the clear track, like an ordinary passenger waiting for a train.

"Look at me?"

"Is this King's Cross Station? This is a hub, who knows where the train goes?" As he said this, a train whistle sounded at the end of the track. After a while, a green train slowly drove in and stopped in front of them.

The train doors were open, as if inviting them to get on.

But where is it heading?

die?

Or Hogwarts?

Harry thought.

Do you want to get in the car?

"There is only one coach here that goes to Hogwarts," said Cyrus, and he noticed that Harry was beginning to look for it as he spoke, so he added, "Don't bother looking for it, Harry. You know where it is."

"I know?"

"Of course." Cyrus said, "The point is, are you willing to go back?"

"Why wouldn't I?" Harry asked back.

"Because Voldemort is still alive, he will not become weak because a small fragment of his soul has disappeared." Cyrus said, "He still has the Elder Wand and still has powerful magic. As long as you are alive, you have to continue fighting him."

"But there are you and Dumbledore..."

"What if we all lose?" Cyrus interrupted him. "Then you will have to face the pain and the fear of losing more loved ones. And you may not be able to do anything about it."

"Then I should go back!" Harry said firmly.

"Then what are you waiting for?" Cyrus asked back. The train in front of them was still stopped on the track, but no one took a step towards it.

In fact, Harry rushed in the other direction - it was a wall! The train to Hogwarts was, of course, in only one place.

Platform 9.

(End of this chapter)