Harry felt as if his body had turned to stone while his soul drifted free.
It was not a pleasant sensation—his mind went completely blank.
Looking down, he saw his body with eyes rolled back, while he himself floated above.
His most secret self, now laid bare for all to see.
Part of him strained to break away, his gaze fixed on Voldemort's abandoned body.
An urge welled up inside him—to slip into it.
But there was no chance.
John tapped the crown upon his head, seizing a mass of soul.
In his right hand it unraveled, thread by thread, until it formed a soul-scalpel finer than a strand of hair.
John's eyes locked on the scar across Harry's forehead, where a fragment of Voldemort still lingered.
And what he intended to do was a soul surgery no different from what he had once performed on Nagini.
Controlling a hundred soul-scalpels at once demanded a razor-sharp focus.
"Let the stars shield me once more."
He called upon the constellations, and the dimmed stars flared again with magic.
Runes floated in the air around John, weaving themselves into a powerful barrier.
From the Holy Grail spilled golden sand, which, upon touching the ground, formed a circle of isolated time.
Catching a grain with his wand, John traced the shape of a Möbius strip. ||Eternal Ground.||
This was the second spell he had learned from the Dragon Field.
A cycle of time, a domain of reincarnation, spread around him.
Harry watched as Dumbledore's lightning-like beam slowed and slowed, as though stretched into endless slow motion.
But he had no time to dwell on it.
John's right hand extended, along with the hundred soul-scalpels.
They reached slowly toward Harry.
Bound by the Soul-Return curse, Harry couldn't move.
He watched the silver threads draw close.
In moments they filled his vision, piercing into his eyes.
So fine, so small, they were nearly imperceptible.
Yet the sheer horror of watching them burrow into his eyes made Harry cry out uncontrollably.
"Harry, I need you to stay quiet. After all, we struck a deal."
John glanced sideways at his silver hand. Another of the super magic crystals embedded there went dark—only three remained.
Eternal Ground devoured magic at a monstrous rate every second. He couldn't afford the slightest distraction.
Twenty scalpels burrowed into Harry's eyes, cutting from the inside. Another fifty worked at the scar from outside.
The remaining thirty pierced into Harry's heart, set as a contingency in case something went wrong.
Harry's screams rang out, twisting the hearts of everyone outside.
Dumbledore's expression tightened, astonished by John's mastery over time. "That magic… it manipulates time."
Any attack he sent into the field slowed automatically.
Even light and magic were hindered—yet John within was untouched.
This level of sorcery was something even a wizard like Dumbledore would need dedicated mastery to perform.
"Damn it, Harry!" Sirius roared, straining against those restraining him. The stalemate shifted only when another member of the Order of the Phoenix arrived.
Moody.
He had come to check as well—Tonks had been gone far too long.
But during the ascent, he noticed something strange: the lift grew newer and newer. By the time he reached the top, it looked as though it had just been installed.
The golden gate gleamed brightly. Moody pushed it open with suspicion—and froze at the sight before him.
Luna stood still where she was, while Hermione's face twisted with inner conflict.
The arrival of the legendary Auror jolted everyone back into action.
Ron rushed in without hesitation. Ginny, after only a moment's pause, raised her wand and struck Neville from behind.
Even the Constellation Society, as strong as they were, had their limits.
With three of their number down, they now faced the combined assault of the veterans of the Order of the Phoenix.
Fleur's seventh protective charm shattered, the ring on her finger flaring red.
She disarmed Tonks, but Moody followed instantly, stunning her before she could recover.
Cedric dueled furiously against the professors.
But his illusions had a fatal weakness here—Moody.
The revolving magical eye locked onto Cedric's true body.
In the end, he was subdued.
The only one left standing was Neville.
Alone, with sword in hand, he faced them all.
"Neville, get out of the way!" Ron shouted, his wand trained on him.
They had shared the same dormitory, yet now they stood on opposite sides.
Moody spoke gruffly, "Boy, you'd better put that weapon down."
Lupin added gently, "Neville, I fought alongside your parents. We would never harm you."
Neville stood like a lion guarding its cubs, blood trickling from his nose where a Stunning Spell had grazed him, his eyes burning with a determination he'd never shown before.
"I won't let you interfere with John."
He stood firm, unyielding, even without a wand—his sword alone was enough for him to defend.
Ron's frustration boiled over. "What the hell did John feed you? You're a Gryffindor! Your parents were in the Order of the Phoenix!"
"John is gentle. He's my best friend!" Neville roared back. "You don't know anything! You fucking git!"
Sirius lost his patience, wand snapping up. "I do know—my godson is in there!"
Lupin tried once more to reach him. "Neville, think of your parents. This would break their hearts."
"They would be proud of me," Neville said, gripping his sword with both hands, each word hammered out with force. "It was John who risked his life to save them. He taught me strength. He showed me what friendship truly means."
"Your parents?" Lupin's voice faltered. He knew the Longbottoms had been healed—but not how.
They had all believed it was nothing more than a miracle.
But Neville told them plainly—it was John, John who had risked everything to save the Longbottoms.
Sirius wasn't about to listen any further. Harry's screams still echoed from within, and he couldn't sit still any longer.
"Out of the way!" he roared.
"Only over my dead body," Neville answered, leaving no room for negotiation.
Sirius lost his patience and fired a Stunning Spell at him.
He thought that without a wand, Neville would be easy to handle.
But Neville's sword was far more terrifying than any wand.
With a sudden charge, Neville became a blur of motion—one boy, one blade.
The sword in his hand cut down every spell hurled at him. His ferocity was no less dangerous than a maddened griffin.
The others all moved in to subdue him, but amidst the storm of spells, Neville's silver blade flashed, his stride unwavering.
He broke through to Sirius, seizing the older man by the throat with one hand. Spinning, he caught Ginny's Stunning Spell on the flat of his blade, then hurled Sirius backward—straight into Tonks, who hadn't had time to dodge.
Lupin realized, too late, how wrong he'd been. This child was the most dangerous one among the Constellation Society.
His way of fighting was something entirely different.
"Don't let him get close!"
Lupin shouted, pulling back to create distance.
Moody's leg slowed him, and though his magical eye kept up with Neville's movements, his body could not.
Strong, fast, skilled with the sword.
Ron finally understood why Neville had claimed he'd beaten Malfoy in just over ten minutes.
With that kind of ability, facing a crowd of wand-wielding spellcasters, he was overwhelmingly powerful.
Crack.
The Sword of Marvolo was a counterfeit after all. After clashing against so many spells, a fracture split along its blade.
Neville didn't notice. He slashed through Ginny's spell and, just as the sword's edge was about to slice across her throat, he twisted at the last moment, striking her aside with the flat.
His kindness would not allow him to kill the innocent.
But the force of that blow snapped the blade in two.
And in the same moment, Lupin's spell struck him squarely, blasting Neville off his feet.
He staggered upright, swaying like a drunk, but his iron will kept him conscious through the Stunning Spell.
Dumbledore once again raised his wand.
With his immense power, a crack finally tore open in the magical field.
Inside the domain, John was still fully focused on controlling the soul scalpels.
He could feel the fear radiating from the fragment of Voldemort's soul.
Sweat the size of beans rolled down his eyelids, but he ignored it.
The scalpels had already severed most of the connection between Harry and the soul fragment.
The third super magic crystal on his silver hand went dark—two-thirds cut through.
"Ahhh—!"
Harry's voice really carried. Was it because of being in a soul state?
John was distracted for only a heartbeat before forcing himself back into focus.
Thirty scalpels remained stationed, guarding Harry's heart.
Dumbledore's first strike had been ground away by time itself. His second slammed into the magical field, making the space shudder.
"The Elder Wand, is it?"
John's expression hardened. If Dumbledore's usual state was level seven, then with the help of the Elder Wand, he climbed another tier.
Level eight—the system's maximum was only seven.
A full-force strike at that level… perhaps this was the true power of Dumbledore, the First King.
"Just one-tenth left."
John steadied his breathing. He believed his domain could withstand the attack.
Dumbledore's third strike was fully charged.
The song of a phoenix rang out.
A massive bolt of red lightning crashed down.
Members of the Order of the Phoenix unleashed their spells.
"It's done."
Light flared in John's eyes. As the final cut fell, all one hundred scalpels pierced Harry's body in unison.
From Harry's soul, a red childlike figure was torn free.
John raised his wand.
The moment wand met the child—Boom!
The magical domain shattered.
The Möbius loop exploded.
And in that instant, nine ancient suits of armor blazed to life across John's body.
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