NOVEL NEXT Chapter 15: The Portal
The next day, at 5:25 AM, on the eighth floor, across from the tapestry where the giant beast had knocked out the foolish Banaba, Harry, carrying his bag, walked out of a door exactly the same as the one he had encountered yesterday. He turned around, watching the wooden door quickly vanish, thoughtfully stroking his chin.
"So, as long as I walk back and forth through this corridor with some kind of need in mind three times, a door will appear here, leading to a room that fulfills the user's demand? If that's the case…"
"I need a vast beach," Harry muttered to himself. After walking back and forth three times in front of the wall, a door appeared in front of him.
He opened the door, and a cool sea breeze greeted him. What he saw before him was a wide beach bathed in moonlight, and further in the distance, waves crashed rhythmically against the shore. But...
"It's too quiet. No insects, no birds, no visible shells or plants under the water, and this water... hmm, it's still fresh water."
Lifting his head from the water, Harry wiped his face and began walking toward the beach, glancing at the wooden door that stood out strangely against the sand. Even though, based on the information he had so far, it seemed that the objects in this room were merely illusions created by magic, he couldn't help but wonder... what if?
A thought that had been on his mind for days gradually filled his head.
Soaked in wet clothes, Harry returned to the corridor, watching the wooden door disappear from the wall. He took a deep breath and began pacing again in front of the wall.
"I need a portal that leads to Shadow Hearth and the others."
"I need a portal that leads to Shadow Hearth and the others."
"I need a portal that leads to Shadow Hearth and the others."
The door that appeared in front of him opened to reveal a swirling blue vortex of energy.
...
With a deafening roar and a massive explosion, the Nezha brain, floating in the sky, swayed for a moment before crashing heavily into the water.
With the death of the Netherbrain, the sense of foreignness that had lingered in the minds of Shadow Hearth and the others disappeared. The heart-controlling parasitic magic larvae that had been lodged in their heads could no longer influence them. The squid-like brains in the city were also drowned by the courageous citizens who rose up to resist. Now, in all of Baldur's Gate, the only remaining heart-controlling demon was just one.
Gazing at the sunset on the horizon, Harry, who should have been celebrating the victory with his friends and lover, felt no joy. Standing at the water's edge, he saw his reflection—not the familiar figure with black hair and green eyes, but one distorted, sporting a squid-like head with tentacles.
It was said that the heart-controlling demons were monsters without souls, transformed from heart-controlling magic larvae, and only retained the memories of their former selves.
Yet, Harry, now transformed into a heart-controlling demon, felt different. Aside from the changes in his appearance, he hadn't lost any of his human emotions. When he saw others, he didn't feel the urge to suck their brains, and he still had a desire to eat normal food.
But, after all, he was still a heart-controlling demon, wasn't he?
Making a decision in his heart, Harry turned and walked toward his friends standing nearby, smiling (though his squid-like head made it hard to tell), and embraced each one of them. Especially when he hugged Shadow Hearth, he held her tightly, very tightly, almost as if he wanted to squeeze her into his heart.
Finally, in the midst of Shadow Hearth's shy protests, Harry released his hold and stepped back, looking at everyone deeply, his eyes filled with nostalgia.
Amidst the confused and somewhat panicked looks of his friends, Harry drew a dagger and thrust it hard into his chest, twisting it with force.
The cold blade pierced through his chest, creating a large hole in his heart. He didn't feel much pain—only the encroaching darkness and the sense of weakness.
Past memories surged into Harry's mind. When he opened his eyes, he found himself floating in an illusory, transparent form in an endless void.
"What's happening to me..." Harry wondered, looking at his still small eleven-year-old body. He touched his wizard robes, his wand, the role-playing card tucked inside, and the black magic defense textbook in his bag. It seemed like he had turned into a ghost?
But why?
Just as Harry was feeling confused about his predicament, a familiar, long-missed voice sounded behind him.
"You drift aimlessly in the darkness, but our eyes are sharp, and we have seen your existence." Harry turned around to find an old man, dressed in tattered robes, with dry, shriveled skin and muscles clinging tightly to his bones, gazing at him with curiosity.
"I had said that the Soul-Eater has no soul, yet it seems you still have some form of spirit within you." This old man, who had accompanied Harry throughout his entire adventure, looked at the eleven-year-old Harry, now in his robes, with a tone full of awe.
"I can't explain this, but how wonderful! Tell me, how does it feel, to wander about after your transformation?"
"I still feel like myself, both before and after turning into a Soul-Eater," Harry thought for a moment, then decided to keep the truth about returning to the Harry Potter world a secret—for now.
"Even if I must wander this world forever, I will always be amazed by the ancient and new secrets," the old man said, his eyes glinting with mysterious energy. "I cannot explain it to you, adventurer... hero... friend, but I know that your story is far from over. And right now, there is a banquet being held. Perhaps you will find it interesting?"
...
Meanwhile, in the classroom for Defense Against the Dark Arts, Professor Quirrell was holding the roll sheet and read Harry Potter's name aloud again.
"Look, it seems, it seems Harry Potter might be in a hurry. This... this is the first time I've encountered a first-year student missing class right at the start of the semester~"
After stammering these words, Professor Quirrell smiled awkwardly, his gaze lingering on the Gryffindor side for a moment. "Does anyone, anyone know where Mr. Potter has gone? If he's not here within fifteen minutes, I'll have to mark him as absent."
Upon hearing Professor Quirrell's words, the Gryffindors (especially a certain little beaver) looked anxious.
"Ron, did you see Harry this morning?" Hermione turned to Ron, who was looking around, and asked in a low voice.
"I don't know," Ron replied, his face puzzled. "Harry got up before I woke up."
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