53 Chapter 48 Mind Games & Madness I

Under the skies of the house in Godric's Hollow, home to the Potter family, legions of crows flew in organized squadrons of hundreds. Each contingent covered strategic points around the house. Just below, two men faced off. One was a handsome man with pale skin, red eyes, and adorned in noble silk robes. This was the Dark Lord, Voldemort, one of the most powerful wizards, a rival to Albus Dumbledore.

The other man was unrecognizable. A humanoid figure with a smoky gray color, almost intangible, with no defined facial features, as if wearing a mask. Two opaque black holes in the place of eyes gleamed with a dark light. He wore a tight black suit of Italian cut.

Voldemort, though annoyed at being interrupted in his purpose, showed not disdain but caution. His eyes couldn't help but glance at the ashes of Peter Pettigrew, his brutally murdered servant. Of course, he felt no pity or remorse, but it was irksome that others touched something that belonged to him.

With caution, despite his irritation, Voldemort questioned the other wizard, "I had assumed that one day we would meet, but I did not expect it so soon, or even here! Raven Who Whispers Secrets, Wolf Shepherd, Lord of Contracts, Honored with the Order of Merlin, Third Class... Many titles, but no face, no name!"

In the face of Voldemort's inquiries and noises, the spectral being, now identified as Wolf Shepherd, did not respond or pay attention to Voldemort. Nothing but silence. He walked through the grass, sensing the smells of blood, sweat, earth, and grass. Finally, he looked at the body of James Potter.

His ethereal and unknown voice whispered fatalistically,

"You, James, only for you, I decided to alter destinies. Your traitorous friend Peter Pettigrew was destroyed in body and soul by my infernal flames. His existence condemned to true death, without rest, punishment, life, or death. Just an echo that will be forgotten in time, as it served no purpose. I do not expect this to please you or that I have delivered justice, for I have not. But know that... for your bravery, for showing me that..."

Voldemort felt ignored and scorned by the being in front of him, paying more attention to the body than to himself. He became even more irritated, deciding that he could no longer tolerate the arrogance of that being. Casting a Killing Curse (Avada Kedavra), the green light covered the distance between them in an instant, hitting the Wolf Shepherd in the back. He fell face down on James's corpse, and upon touching the ground, dissolved into a cloud of shadows that spread, taking James's body with it.

"Hih hih!… Crás Crás! … Hah hah!... Crew Craw!... Hi Hihi…"

Voldemort felt a chill hearing the crows mocking him, along with voices of people laughing in various tones. Voices of children, old people, men, women, and animals, some happy, others sad, seductive, shy, hateful, angry. This made him uneasy. Seeing his favorite spell hit and cause no harm also displeased him. His perception sharpened, anticipating the next attack from the enemy. The magic of the Wolf Shepherd seemed to be illusion magic, advanced illusions, nothing new for an experienced wizard like him.

"Há Há Há! ... bé ééh éeh! … áuu uu u!"

The sounds seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at the same time. Voldemort began to observe. He sensed an attack but did not know how, when, or from where it would come. His eyes were fixed on the crows above, but his magical senses observed the powerful magic spread on the ground.

A small formation of crows stood out, heading toward Voldemort, as fast as an arrow. The body structure of these crows became clear, highlighting their beaks, which became long and sharp. They descended towards Voldemort, preparing for the collision.

While Voldemort prepared for defense, nearby, where James's body was, a dense shadow molded into a shape: a sinister, ghostly wolf, began to lurk, hungry.

With efficient movements, the Dark Lord skillfully summoned his defense. With a short wand movement, he whispered "Protego Maxima." A transparent silver light covered him in the form of a dome. Moving his wand energetically upward, he sang "Fianto Duri." This spell works by increasing and automating a previous enchantment. Still not satisfied, he prepared one more of his spells. A silently cast spell, without flashy wand movements, "Homenum Revelio," in search of his enemy.

The crows fell against his shield with force, one by one, in a cadence similar to a storm. The crows disintegrated into shadows upon hitting the protection, and each impact created cracks in Voldemort's defense. Still, it held the attack.

With the enemy distracted, the lurking wolf advanced on the Dark Lord. It collided with the protection but passed through it easily, as its structure was illusory and not physical. Voldemort reacted quickly, casting a silent spell, "Depulse." The purple ray passed through the wolf, which was intangible. The wild beast advanced on Voldemort in a precise attack but passed through him. The Dark Lord was pushed back but suffered no harm.

With attention divided, the swarm of crows falling on the shield finally broke through the defenses, attacking Voldemort with their sharp beaks.

The man felt the pecks of the crows on his skin, tearing pieces of flesh. Surely, this would have killed a less experienced wizard. Voldemort closed his eyes, ignoring the pain, and ordered his magic to move at his will. A red flash in the form of a dome grew from him, expelling the crows. With his right hand, he guided his wand, conjuring a spell with furious movements, "Fiend Fire." Red flames shaped from his wand, taking the form of a basilisk. The flaming serpent pursued the crows near him, burning everything in its path, furious as if it were the flames of the devil himself.

"Argh!... Craw, Crew!...

The wolf growled again at the Dark Lord. The crows retreated, cawing unhappily. The wolf approached Voldemort, even though the Fiend Fire did not seem to affect it.

He just mocked the Beast: "You are just an illusion, a mere pup that barks and does not bite." He took his attention off the wolf and turned his voice to the surroundings, shouting: "Wolf Shepherd, how long will you continue with these childish tricks?"

While ignored, the wolf was not intimidated and advanced on Voldemort. Its ghostly form materialized physically in the world. It attacked Voldemort with a leap, biting and marking his shoulder. The wound went from the neck to the arms and chest. The wolf crushed Voldemort to the ground, and a demonic mark was left on his flesh. Voldemort did not know that the symbol of a butterfly resting on a perfect triangle had been marked on his neck, the only intact piece of skin. The wolf stepped back, expressing a victorious smile with its fangs, before being consumed by the fiery basilisk.

Voldemort was furious and felt pain in his body. This was wrong. He was the one causing pain, not the victim of pain. While healing, thanking the space his enemy had given him, he felt his mental defenses being attacked. They mocked disdainfully: 'Do you believe you can compete with me in mental arts? That was your biggest mistake.

In the mental landscape, a metaphorical world representing the minds of the two wizards, two boys met. One looked like a handsome boy, dark-haired with green eyes and natural charm. The other was an even more beautiful boy, with white hair with silver tones, pale skin, and golden hues emphasizing exotic beauty. The most surprising were his purple eyes and horns on his head.

There was also a contrast, as if two worlds collided. Behind Voldemort, there was a dark and muddy swamp, where all kinds of snakes stood out. Vincent, the Wolf Shepherd, had as his internal world a frigid and simple landscape, a beautiful palace, poorly maintained green grass, and a loaded orchard with fallen fruit.

"Who would have thought that in your mental landscape, the mighty Dark Lord is nothing more than a frightened boy?" Vincent said, intrigued. "Well, or... should I call you Tom Riddle?"

Voldemort looked furiously at the child in front of him. "Argh..."