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40.57% A Bend in Time / Chapter 497: Little Hangleton Ⅲ

Chapter 497: Little Hangleton Ⅲ

Making her way through the thick grass and thorns, Rowan winced more than a couple of times, but finally managed to make it to the front door. Debating whether the door had a spell on it or not she finally decided to just enter through the rafters which made her kick herself. Had there been any need for her to suffer?!

The roof was mostly gone as Rowan floated into the dusty murky cottage. The remaining furniture was broken and in various stages of decomposition. Mice and other creatures made their home in the shack scurried away at her presence.

"Should have just down this from the beginning instead of walked through the grass," Rowan grumbled to herself. Ah, logic, sometimes it fails to come through at times. Then again, it might not be fair to blame logic, blame her lack of common sense. She clearly had been around wizards for far too long.

Still floating just above the floorboards, Rowan is about to start removing the boards one at a time, when something can clearly be seen in her right eye. She blinks and sees a boxlike thing enveloped in a twisting sickly puke green magic. Come to think of it, she had never walked around Prince Manor nor seen anyone with her right eye. Could she possibly see magic with her right eye? If so, then this might just prove useful for the future.

Putting that thought out of mind for now, Rowan points her wand in the direction of the floorboards and pries them off. Reaching into her mokeskin pouch she reaches for her handy dandy murky vial and pours it over the golden box. Floating back, she patiently waits for the golden box to dissolve. There is a loud hissing like snakes until the sound finally fades away.

Cautiously floating back, Rowan peeks into the hole in the ground to see a heavy, thick looking gold signet ring with a glittering black stone. The glittering black stone eerily calls to her and suddenly she can clearly hear her father's voice in her ears. Like a whispered temptation on the wind, she hears, "Sorry, my almond."

Rowan's hand trembles in hesitation as she forces herself to ignore the voice. Her hand tightly grips the vial as a part of her fiercely resists her actions. It was that tempted childish part within her that still remembered the loving father who used to toss his children into the air and catch them in his arms and smothering them in kisses. And she certainly was no saint and was not above temptation, and especially even now.

Forcing herself to remember the ending of Albus Dumbledore, Rowan grits her teeth and uncorks the second milky white vial and pours it directly over the ring, before blasting off into the night sky. She finally stopped a good distance in the air as loud, angry screaming can be heard down below as a blast of wind emerged and smashed the stark remains of the Gaunt Shack into pieces.

Even from where she is floating at, she can still feel the blast of magic that sends her flying backwards for several meters. Once the screaming is over and the magic residue is gone, Rowan quickly floats to the ground and sits down on a flattened patch of grass. Taking a deep breath, she waits for the death surge to begin. It was not even a moment later, when the energy began pour into her as she channeled the voracious energy through her body pathways.

Since the Gaunt Ring Horcrux was formed with the death of three family members, Tom Riddle, Mary and Thomas Riddle, there was quite the punch this time around. But thankfully her channels had expanded ever since the previous time before and grown since then. The energy was eagerly absorbed until all of it was slurped down in the fastest time yet. Quite a bit had already been digested, which frightened her more than she cared to admit. And especially as she knew that said power had already begun to poison her mind and body.

Rowan glanced warily down at her innocent looking elder wand, before shaking her head and sighing. Rising to her feet, she grits her teeth in pain as she finds that her leg is stiff from sitting on the hard ground. Rubbing the pain out of her leg, she finally hobbles forward into the blast zone.

Nothing much was left of the Gaunt House beyond some scattered wooden remains a bit of the floor and strangely the front door was still standing. Walking over to the hole in the ground, she peeks inside to spot the twisted charred remains of the ring with the perfectly untouched ring. Rowan's eyebrows arch up rather impressed. Even Basilisk venom could not destroy the resurrection stone. Right on to phase two.

Pointing her wand at the Resurrection Stone, Rowan mutters a small prayer under her breath, before casting the Disintegration Curse. Pain begins to course through her wand hand as tiny cuts begin to appear across her arm. Gritting her teeth, she keeps the curse going as red light continues to pour out of her wand.

The Resurrection Stone begins to tremble and glow, but it also fights back. A golden like glow begins to be emitted from the stone as both red and golden light fight each other. To her horror and amazement, Rowan is being pushed back by the power in the stone. Not one to easily give up, she pushes back and sends the still being digested energy into her body straight back out.

The red blow from her wand turns up a notch and begins to disintegrate the very earth around them. But the Resurrection Stone is not any less weak as the golden beam of light steadily grows as well. The entire area around them is turning into dust and Rowan quickly finds herself floating above a rapidly disintegrating area.

Still Rowan just shoves all the newly gained death surge energy right back. She does not know how long they battled there, but she felt that it was extremely late, and the moon had long ago had already begun to wane. It was probably closer to dawn than anything else.

Her right hand was a bloody mess with deep gashes starting from the tip of her fingers and all the way up her wand arm. Rowan's wand arm trembled from the pain and the magic being poured out, but she could not stop to heal her arm. She was starting to feel herself growing more lightheaded as time progressed and the blood flow did not stop. But she could not afford to stop now, she could feel the Resurrection Stone growing weaker as well.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Rowan shoved every tidbit of the death surge energy she had remaining out. Suddenly, the weakened Resurrection Stone faltered. Feeling the Resurrection Stone faltering, she reached into her mokeskin pouch for another milky vial and tossed it right at the stone. As it turns out, Basilisk venom does work after all.

The Resurrection Stone began to violently glow and let out a blast of supernova light that nearly blinded Rowan except she already had her eyes closed. The light could be seen around the surrounding area for miles, which later would be explained as a space meteor exploding mid-air and the remnants smashing into where the Gaunt Shack had been. (Never mind that there were zero traces of a meter impact nor were any meteor remnants ever found.)

Gasping and exhausted, Rowan crumbled to the ground as the red light went out at the end of her wand. Unable to hold her slippery, wand drenched in her own blood, her wand clattered onto the ground. Her right wand arm was bleeding profusely, but she was prepared this time around.

Reaching into her pouch, Rowan pulled out a blood replenishing potion and just gulped it down in a single gulp. Then reached for a mild pain potion, before dousing that down as well, before taking another potion that would heal all the gashes in her arm. She would be left with scars no doubt, but she'd alive.

Sweating, woozy, Rowan unsteadily reached for her wand before crumbling onto the ground weakly. Before she could crawl back onto her feet it hit her like a freight train. Unlike the death surge before this was something else entirely as it caused her no pain whatsoever as she blackened out under the immense pressure, and knew nothing more.


CREATORS' THOUGHTS
EsliEsma EsliEsma

Rowan is human, and like all humans has her own weaknesses. To be perfect is to be less than human. Because what would humanity be without it's imperfections?

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