“Do it,” he said. “Purge.” The white void flickered. Blue lines of code raced past Harry’s vision, and he felt something tear —not painfully, but like ripping out a splinter that had been lodged for seventeen years. A dark, wispy shape tried to coalesce in front of him, shrieking silently, before dissolving into nothing. Purge complete. Horcrux corruption: 0%. Core integrity: rebuilding… 34%… 67%… 89%… 100%. Harry felt lighter than he had since he was eleven years old.
One moment, he was running through the Forbidden Forest, Voldemort’s Killing Curse hurtling toward him. The next, he was standing in a white, empty space. No walls. No floor, really—just a soft, infinite glow. hp safe mode
He stood up, brushed off his robes, and walked toward the sound of Voldemort’s voice. “Do it,” he said
He sat up slowly. The Resurrection Stone lay beside him, now cold and gray—spent. He pocketed it anyway. A dark, wispy shape tried to coalesce in
He looked at the panel again. Purge foreign entity. That had to be the piece of Voldemort’s soul, the one Dumbledore had told him about. But memories may be lost gave him pause.
She reached out, and her hand passed through his chest like light through glass. Harry felt a click —like a key turning in a lock. The cottage faded. The white void returned, then collapsed into darkness.
But before he could celebrate, the panel blinked red. “English, please.” Translation: You need someone who loves you to use a specific magical artifact on your body within the next twelve minutes. Suggested artifact: the Resurrection Stone (currently in your pocket) or phoenix tears. Harry’s hand instinctively went to his pocket. The Resurrection Stone—Dumbledore had left it to him in the Snitch. He hadn’t used it yet. He was afraid of who he’d see.