Harry Potter: The Muggle Crown Prince at Hogwarts

Dumbledore's expression was cold.

He turned to look at Allen calmly, and tilted his head questioningly.

...his protection spell didn't catch the Cruciatus Curse just now.

Allen smiled, sat upright slowly from the armchair, stepped up gracefully, and took the diary on the desktop.

He walked to the old headmaster, nodded and said, "Please rest assured, I am not completely helpless."

Dumbledore frowned slightly.

He looked at the former student with a gloomy face opposite him, and said disappointedly, "Oh, Tom... I thought, at least when you were a student, you wouldn't wantonly cast the Unforgivable Curse."

Riddle sneered, "Okay... You guys teamed up to lie to me?"

He gripped Alan's wand tightly, and said indifferently, "I should have known—you never believed me!"

Dumbledore said calmly,

"That's not the reason you cast the Cruciatus Curse on Allen just now."

Riddle laughed wildly and raised his voice, "Oh? Is this Muggle crown prince your favorite student?"

He flicked his wand violently and shouted, "Avada Kedavra!"

The spell glowed with an ominous green light.

Flew straight to Allen.

Allen gently hooked his fingers, pulled something and flew over, resisting the spell of the death curse.

Countless sawdust fell one after another, forming hatred between the two parties.

The wand inherited from Salazar Slytherin let out a low wail.

It witnessed two heirs fighting each other, but was unable to make any effort from it, and was even forced to cast a death curse on its current master.

Allen faintly followed the guidance of the wand, and looked at the tip of the wand strangely.

It is trembling.

It is killing itself.

This wand of unknown material has belonged to Slytherin from the very beginning. It has both Slytherin's insidiousness and Slytherin's loyalty.

Allen couldn't help frowning, and his sea-blue eyes were filled with sadness.

He met Dumbledore's gaze and smiled gently, "Sir, I'm a quick learner—please sit down, and leave this battle to me."

The old principal slowly withdrew his gaze, walked to the long table in the principal's office, and gently comforted poor Fox who had a big fall because of the tripod being pulled away.

At this moment, the phoenix is ​​bald, with drooping tail, and the golden-red feathers that were once proud are also dimmed.

It is about to nirvana.

The nest that was set up was pulled away by Allen.

Fox watched his beloved tripod flying out and shattered under the light of Avada, and screamed angrily.

Its voice was also not as clear as before, exuding an old-fashioned air.

It stared at Allen and let out a cry, but couldn't help coughing up bits and pieces of sparks.

Allen's voice was extremely calm, even trying to tease the angry Phoenix.

He promised, "Fox, don't be mad, I'll build you the best tripod ever possible—does Fox have any other stands, sir?"

Dumbledore shook his white beard.

Observing Allen at this moment with his blue eyes, he knew the pain of watching the wand die, which should be the same as the pain of watching the blood alliance shatter.

He tugged at his beard and said, "Well, I have another one in my bedroom, but he likes this one the most. You need to find him a nice shelf!"

Riddle's face was as dark as ink.

He looked at the diary in Allen's hand coldly, and it was obvious that the other party had blocked his life force absorption, and even cut off his connection with the Horcrux itself.

Right now, he is in a dilemma.

It was impossible for Dumbledore to let his own existence go. The weird Muggle crown prince in front of him didn't know how he would retaliate against him.

He clenched the wand he took from Allen's hand, and threw a spell abruptly.

Still an ominous green light.

Riddle would rather burn the remaining souls than die with them.

Allen raised his hand gently, and countless spells followed his will.He doesn't need the guidance of any magic wand at all, the magic factor is his most loyal subject.

He tapped the air, as if conducting a grand movement.

Riddle deserves to be the best student since the founding of Hogwarts, and this praise from Dumbledore is not discounted at all.

Right now, he clearly only has half of the vitality absorbed from Alan, but he still flexibly dodges Alan's spell, and even has enough energy to fight back in the gap.

Allen leaned back suddenly, avoiding the spell shot down by the opponent.

Dumbledore couldn't help sighing when he saw it.

...Should it be said that they are all descendants of Slytherin?This elegance and talent are almost the same.

Allen frowned slightly, as if he had lost his patience.

He dodged Voldemort's Cruciatus Curse again, throwing back a ball of scorching Fiendfire.

Riddle backed away quickly.

He dared not touch that cluster of flames, that evil flame would burn everything in the world, even the souls of the immortals.

Allen cast a spell quickly.

Under Fiendfire's peeping, Riddle was finally at a loss.

Dumbledore gently stroked Fox in his arms, his blue eyes showed a trace of compassion, "Ah...Fawkes, why are young people always like this?"

Riddle gripped his wand hard, squinting and said, "Alan Cornwall, don't think your victory is all yours—your wand has been against me, that's all."

Allen looked at the trembling wand and sighed softly, "Sorry."

He shot violently, and dozens of disarming spells rushed away, intending to take back his weapon and companion from the opponent.

But Riddle overdraws the power to maintain the soul.

Desperately, he bounced Alan's spell back, and sent another killing curse viciously.

Allen raised his hand and directly confronted the opponent with the magic factor.

One side of the sea blue eyes, waiting for the return of the wand.But in this short tug of war, the wand finally couldn't bear it, and the pieces shattered.

There was a little surprise in those eyes, and then a hint of anger.

He lowered his eyebrows indifferently, took out the diary from his pocket, lit it with Fierce Flame, and let the shattered ashes escape from his fingertips.

Riddle laughed wildly in the flames.

He said arrogantly, "Ha... Alan, you don't count as a win!"

Allen raised his eyes indifferently, saw the other party disappear in the scream, and turned around calmly.

He looked at the weakened Fox, and said softly, "Sir, that's actually Slytherin's wand."

Dumbledore's eyes were complicated, and he gently put Fox into his arms, with a hint of helplessness in his comfort,

"Okay, Alan... look at Fox..."

He summoned Fox's tripod in the bedroom and signaled Allen to put the Phoenix on it.

As the two watched, Fawkes sneezed feebly, sending out a spark.

It hung its head helplessly.

In the blink of an eye, a cluster of golden-red flames burned up, turning it into a handful of ashes, which fell into the small basin under the tripod.

Allen said softly, "It's in Nirvana."

Dumbledore nodded slightly, watched the young phoenix poke its head out of the ashes, and said softly, "Yes...Look, Alan, life is so wonderful..."

He blinked slightly and said, "Don't be sad, kid. Everyone and everything has its own final destination.

Perhaps our destiny has already been written in the script of the goddess of fate. "

Allen smiled slightly, with a hint of sarcasm.

"Thank you for your reassurance, sir. But..."

He looked up, "I'm actually very tired of this feeling - this so-called fate that everything has already been doomed."

"You said before that Voldemort was destined to be defeated by Harry. However, I have already destroyed one of Voldemort's soul pieces...

"Sir, does this mean that the prophecy is wrong and can be changed in the future."

He lowered his eyebrows coldly and said calmly,

"Similarly, my ending can only be determined by myself.

No one deserves to be in charge of my destiny. "

He turned around to hide the roiling malice in Hailan's eyes, and said,

"I think, maybe you should also believe in yourself - you can still find the courage to be a Gryffindor to resist the unwarranted fate."