Says the captain of the Balance Breakers! Rumbled a male voice amplified by external speakers. - No one to move, and no one will suffer! With the manifestation of aggression we beat to defeat!
Everything froze again in shock and bewilderment.
- So, what's with us? - a sarcastic voice sounded after the flash, which was already realized after the fact.
All as a single organism turned their heads towards the source of sound that came from the artifact.
And that one, by the way, has changed a little - from inside it a small round platform has been dotted with runes, on which now stood a red-haired young man in strange clothes, in which Japanese and European motifs were fancifully mixed. In his right hand he clutched a long staff with six rings at its end. The left hand was resting on its side, thereby throwing back floor and showing everyone a view of the large pistol, on the body of which the runes pulsed weakly.
“Hmm ... The battle for Hogwarts, as I understand it,” he uttered with some strange curiosity while squinting and grinning widely, which made his face with rather delicate features suddenly become very unpleasant. It also became very similar to the face of the Dark Lord who was found here in the stupor. True, no one would dare say such a thing about the latter. - So, who is here with us? No way Lord Voldemort himself? Well, how is your Fate doing? Still not leaning back? So we will fix it! POTTER !!! - from the unexpectedly powerful barking, from which those present in the ears had an unpleasant tinkle, and from the hands of Hagrid fell to this depicting the dead man Harry Potter.
It fell, and it froze when a short burst from the rotary machine gun of one of the giants drew a line in the ranks of the Death Eaters, thereby visually cutting off the Chosen from the rest of the Darkness. The heads of all in shock stared at the resurrected.
“What do you want, Ron?” - the somewhat sleepy and tired voice of the Chosen One himself, but with unfamiliar growls for the local sounded equally unexpectedly from the side of the artifact. Once again, the synchronous movement of the heads of those present.
Someone giggled nervously. Someone backed up. Someone with the power that already crackled a tree under his fingers, squeezed his magic wand. But the overwhelming majority, in shock and with slowly drooping jaws, watched a guy coming down from that same round platform.
Snow-white hair framed by a crown of horns. Large-scaled hands with short claws instead of nails. Thin scales around the eyes. A shining green iris with no visible protein and with a thin vertical pupil flick. A heavy dragon leather cloak and lining of his own bone. In his left hand there is a short staff, or even rather a cane with three heads expressing different emotions and with wide open mouths. On the left thigh, there is a short cylinder-hilt in which some of the most ardent fans of the Lucas trilogy identified a lightsaber. On the right is the fellow pistol of the red-haired magician.
“Hm ...” the newcomer Potter, who, despite the strange changes, it was hard not to recognize, looked around the audience with a piercing gaze. He grinned widely. Although it was more like a grin.
Everything further went simply instantly.
The "White" Potter just swung forward, as if on his heels, and the next moment he was already near Voldemort. The fierce hiss of an activated lightsaber - and the hands of the last Dark Lord of this millennium simply collapsed to the ground, and he himself was lifted into the air, his fingers gripping his throat with force, thereby screaming in the wilderness bud. In the meantime, the still-extinguished sword drew an oblique line in the closest supporters of its overlord, instantly sending five magicians and a snake for rebirth.
“I always knew that you did not like Dolokhov,” the red-haired guy extended in grave silence, diluted perhaps by the quiet whining of “The Horror of All Britain”.
- Only you can normally communicate with him. Even our dearest regent of the Slytherin clan only endures it.
- By the way, about our Darkness - we should show him what was waiting for him, if he didn’t get in touch with our company, which had been hit hard.
“Who in vain remembers me there?” Redlis, you tailed cattle, get away from the local me. No matter what you decide to do with him, Potter will be more humane ... No one will! - the latter related to the agitated Eaters. And since the barking was accompanied by a duplication of the team, and rather painful, it should be noted through the Mark, then everyone obediently froze.
- M-my Lord? - the eldest from Lestrange said in shock, looking at the next guest coming out of the circle. He well remembered what his overlord looked like before the whole Potter story. “Is that really you?”
- Rudolphus? Time does not spare you, ”shook his head a youthful man with a spectacular appearance, increased pallor, drawn into everything black and seeming to be almost beloved grandson of Count Dracula because of the predatory plastic movements that are more characteristic of the Children of the Night or a cold-blooded reptile.
