131: Chapter 131 Time and Space Press Down on the Soul

"Don't touch him."

Tom's hand paused in mid-air; Harry's wand tip was still pointed at the boy on the ground, and the green light had just begun to gather at the tip when it was cut off by the voice coming from behind.

He turned his head.

On the water of the Chamber of Secrets, an extra figure appeared.

Allen stepped out from the Spatial Folding behind the shadow of a stone pillar, his blackthorn wand pointing levelly at Tom; his robe hem didn't touch the water, and his soles made no sound.

Tom stared at him, the youthful politeness on his face receding bit by bit. "Another Potter?"

Harry lay half-reclined beside the Basilisk's carcass, his arm still bearing the burns from the venom.

Fawkes's tears were seeping into the wound; he heard the voice, struggled to lift his head, and his eyes suddenly became confused.

"Allen?"

Allen didn't look at him. "Shut up and catch your breath first."

Harry opened his mouth, his chest heaving violently.

He had just nearly died under the Basilisk's fangs, and nearly died again by his own wand.

Now, seeing Allen step out, he couldn't tell whether he should be shocked or angry.

Tom twisted Harry's wand half a turn, his knuckles pressing against the wand shaft. "I thought Hogwarts only had one Potter worth looking at."

"You're mistaken."

Allen took a step forward.

The water surface didn't move.

Tom's gaze fell to Allen's feet, his expression darkening for the first time. "Spatial Magic. You've been here the whole time."

"Since you started spouting nonsense."

"How much did you hear?"

"Enough."

Tom looked at Ginny, who had collapsed at the foot of the statue, then back at Allen. "You knew she was being controlled by the diary all along, yet you waited until now to appear. How interesting. Harry, did you hear that? Your cousin watched as I drained her dry."

Harry gritted his teeth, trying to push himself up. "Allen, is what he's saying true?"

"Asking that now is useless."

Allen pressed his wand to the side.

The half-foot of space beneath Harry suddenly shifted, and he, along with the few tears shed by Fawkes, slid out of the range directly targeted by Tom's wand tip.

The Basilisk's blood rippled in place, and Harry had already been dragged behind the stone pillar.

Tom immediately raised his wand.

Red light shot out.

When the spell neared within a foot of Allen, the air folded.

The red light veered to the right, striking the stone wall and blasting off several stone fragments.

Harry was stunned.

He had seen clearly just now.

Allen hadn't even dodged; he just stood there, as if he had dismantled the spell's path in advance.

Tom's gaze grew colder. "You're saving him?"

"I'm protecting the world line."

"The world line?"

Tom repeated it, as if chewing on a strange word.

His projection flickered; the rise and fall of Ginny's chest became shallower, and thin lines of life force extended from her to Tom.

Allen finally looked at Ginny.

Inside the Portable Space, the void clung beside the ebony box, silver eyes fixed on Ginny's position on the map of the Chamber of Secrets.

The blue light of the cracked pocket watch pressed under the box's seam, as if being guided by an invisible hand.

"Life extraction conduit, three-foot range."

Allen finished speaking in a low voice and drew a short arc with his wand.

The space within three feet of Ginny suddenly collapsed into an invisible wall.

Tom's expression changed abruptly.

The life force lines connected to Ginny were blocked, as if hitting invisible glass; the thin lines trembled in the air and then snapped inch by inch.

Tom's body immediately faded, and the outline of the prefect badge on his chest flickered.

"What did you do?"

"Severed the conduit."

Allen's answer was excessively brief.

Tom looked sharply at Ginny.

The girl's fingers twitched, and a faint sound of breathing escaped her throat.

Harry sat up, leaning against the stone pillar, his voice hoarse. "Is Ginny still alive?"

"For now."

"Then save her!"

"I am doing so."

"You could have come out earlier!"

Harry's roar echoed between the stone pillars, making even the water surface tremble.

He tried to stand up, but the pain in his arm made him fall back.

Fawkes lifted its head and let out a cry, as if warning him not to move.

Allen finally turned to look at him. "If I had come out earlier, Tom wouldn't have exposed the location of the diary to me."

Harry froze.

Tom, however, laughed, his laughter laced with suppressed anger. "You want to find the diary? Do you think you can win just by cutting off a strand of life force?"

He raised Harry's wand, the tip pointing toward Ginny.

"She is still alive. As long as I finish her off, none of you will be able to take her away."

Allen raised his left hand.

The space within three feet of Ginny tightened abruptly, even the water on the ground was squeezed into a thin layer. Before Tom's spell could take shape, it was blocked outside by the spatial wall; the red light at the wand tip let out a piercing sound and finally veered toward the stone statue overhead.

A crack was blasted into the statue's jaw.

Tom's projection flickered again.

"You cannot touch her," Allen said.

"And you cannot find the diary."

Tom's eyes burned with rage. "As long as the diary exists, I can return at any time. Harry cannot kill me, and neither can you."

"You are jumping to conclusions too early."

Allen continued forward.

With every step he took, the water around Tom receded in a circle.

The space deep within the Chamber of Secrets was pressed by him into a chessboard; the Basilisk's carcass, Ginny, Harry, and Tom were all partitioned into different squares.

Tom finally realized something was wrong.

He tried to retreat, only to find that the space beneath his feet had stuck to his projection.

It wasn't a physical restraint or a spell chain, but the distance of the Chamber of Secrets itself had been altered.

He had clearly taken a step back, yet remained in the same spot.

"You are not an ordinary student," Tom stared at Allen. "You carry the scent of a remnant soul I've encountered before. After Quirrell, it was you all along."

Harry looked up sharply.

"Quirrell? Allen, was that you last year?"

Allen did not answer.

Tom seized this point and immediately turned to Harry. "He saved you, yet wiped your memory, didn't he? Harry, everyone around you is using you. Dumbledore lets you charge to the front while he hides in the Headmasters Office. Your cousin hides in the shadows, watching as you nearly get bitten to death by the Basilisk."

Harry's face went pale.

He instinctively pressed his old scar; fragments from last year collided in his mind.

Silver light, green light, Quirrell's screams, blurred figures—all like paper soaked in water.

Allen lifted his wand slightly.

The sounds in Harry's ears were shifted into chaotic water noises, and Tom's provocation was cut in half.

"Don't feed him emotions," Allen said.

Harry stared at him blankly. "How much have you been hiding from me?"

"Enough to keep you from dying a few times."

Tom sneered. "Such touching brotherly love."

"I'm not that close with him."

As Allen finished speaking, the blackthorn wand pointed at Tom's chest.

The Spatial Folding closed instantly.

Tom's projection was compressed inward, and large patches of flickering appeared on his translucent body.

He forced himself to raise Harry's wand, firing three consecutive spells; red light, gray light, and an unformed green curse rushed toward Allen in succession.

The water surface was illuminated by the spell light.

Harry widened his eyes.

The first spell veered to the left a foot in front of Allen, hitting the Basilisk's carcass; the second folded downward into the water, blasting up a spray; the third, as soon as it approached, was bent by space into a detour, flying past Allen's shoulder and striking near the foot of the Salazar Slytherin statue.

Allen didn't even move his robe sleeve.

A crack of fear finally tore open on Tom's face.

"What on earth are you?"

"Just a passerby."

"Liar."

"Believe what you want."

Allen stopped three steps away from Tom and pressed his wand down.

The space around Tom tightened even further.

Harry's wand let out a piercing vibration in his hand, like a piece of iron shoved into a narrow pipe.

Harry watched this scene, his throat dry.

He had once thought the shadow of Lord Voldemort in his youth was terrifying enough.

But now, that boy who claimed to be Lord Voldemort was being forced back step by step by Allen, unable to even touch him with a spell.

Fawkes stood beside Harry, its feathers stained with Basilisk blood, its golden-red eyes also fixed on Allen.

The Phoenix did not attack.

It just watched.

Allen suddenly tilted his head, his gaze falling beneath Ginny's school robe.

"The diary is not on the altar."

Tom's pupils contracted.

Allen saw it.

"So it was pressed underneath."