Chapter 245

"Why didn't you tell him to leave?" Voldemort suddenly said.

"I can protect him," Dumbledore cast aside a spell and spoke again with his usual confidence, "and meanwhile, take you down."

"Do you think you can still scare me, old man?" Voldemort shouted. "You're old, you're weakening, you're going to die!"

"I won't die," Dumbledore calmly shot a red beam; Voldemort frowned and dodged.

"Alright, gun in hand. Seven bullets, but only the first one works well—I need to aim, find the opening," Harry kept muttering to himself, as if he were truly aiming at Voldemort, though in truth, he hadn't brought a gun today.

"Bang." Harry uttered a sound effect; immediately, Voldemort cast a Shield Charm on himself. Though no bullet had been fired, Dumbledore seized the moment, took a breath, and re-established his stance against Voldemort.

Dumbledore's left-hand wound had already healed; he made no move to retrieve his severed half-hand.

"Do you think tricks will help?" Voldemort snarled. "I'll keep suppressing Dumbledore—he grows weaker with every fight, while I grow stronger. You've run out of options, brat!"

A stray spell, deflected upward, struck Harry on the head; he rolled quickly to avoid being crushed by falling bricks.

What else can I do? What else can I do… Harry thought anxiously.

Suddenly, a whisper surfaced in his ears—seemingly Zhang Qiu chanting, yet mixed with wind. In his weakness, Harry recognized the wind—not howling wind, but the TARDIS's braking sound.

Harry couldn't help but feel excited; to him now, this sound meant hope.

"I told you not to keep braking like an idiot!" came a hoarse voice.

"But don't you think this howling sound is beautiful?" Harry recognized it as Barty's voice.

"No, the time table is locked—only this point is accessible," said an unfamiliar voice; Harry felt he was hearing the Doctors' discussion.

"The spatial table can still move, but there's an Anti-Apparition barrier there—we can't land."

"I said the time table won't move—did one of you break her?"

"We should return to just before the final match began!"

"We've been told the time table won't move—just go straight to the scene!"

"Who can tell me how to break through the Anti-Apparition barrier? Let's just drive the TARDIS straight to the battlefield!"

"We can't land—I'm still spinning in spacetime; the Anti-Apparition barrier is blocking the TARDIS!"

"Calm down—what's the principle behind the Anti-Apparition barrier? Someone explain."

"Disperse your magical vortexes—the dispersed magic isn't enough to complete teleportation. To break the Anti-Apparition barrier, you need at least one hundred and twenty people performing the ritual!"

"One hundred and twenty people concentrating magic, enough to shatter the barrier—that's it, thank you, Doctor." "You're welcome, Doctor."

"But how did the Dark Lord get here? He should've broken the barrier first."

"Who knows? Maybe he flew here manually."

"Hey, hey, listen up—what's the principle of the Temporal Instant Matrix?" Barty's voice rang out clearly. "Time potential energy converts into magic, right? Have you noticed—"

"You're a clever little brat." "My god, I never thought of that!" "Are you saying—"

"... e're all driving the same TARDIS!"

"Hey, hey, Harry!" Barty's face suddenly appeared before Harry's eyes, though blurry.

"We need to drive the TARDIS to the exact same point and smash the Anti-Apparition barrier," he said. "But we can't determine the precise coordinates—TARDIS's positioning has always had errors."

"So I need you to plant your wand in the ground," Barty gestured with both hands, describing the Doctors' plan. "The Temporal Instant Matrix—it's like a lighthouse, understand? Once we lock its coordinates, we can use the tracking function to calibrate. Hold on—we're coming."

Voldemort eyed Harry suspiciously. He sensed an inexplicable joy, yet this fool merely planted his wand in the ground—he was baffled.

"I'm already on my way." Another face suddenly appeared—a white-haired old man.

Twelve faces appeared one after another around Harry; he struggled to identify them. After several unfamiliar elders, he saw the man in the long scarf—the one who had helped him in his first year.

Then more faces flashed by—a man with enormous bat-like ears appeared; Harry saw Barty, and then the Head Judge, Prince Montbatten, though he looked much younger. Then, to his shock, the twelfth Doctor turned out to be the marble merchant Dona loved most.

"I'm ready." "He'll never expect this." "Let's go." "Charge!"

Harry involuntarily held his breath. The howling grew louder. Voldemort too turned to look. A blue police box was gradually materializing from the void—but Harry's gaze froze. He saw a crack forming on the time machine.

"Temporal Instant Matrix." Zhang Qiu's voice suddenly rang out. Without thinking, Harry rushed forward, reaching to pull his wand from the ground—he had already grasped its tip—

Then, he saw only a blinding golden light. He shut his eyes, and next felt himself flung high into the air, then suspended as if under a Levitation Charm, never falling.

At last, Harry heard sounds. His eardrums felt ruptured; his skull buzzed. He tried to cover his ears, but his hands seemed unresponsive.

He didn't know how long it lasted—or perhaps it was only moments—when Harry realized he was floating in midair. The TARDIS had completely exploded, yet its fragments still hung suspended.

He was confused. Even if he'd been blown away, how could he remain airborne forever? The moment he thought this, he dropped straight down, his feet touching the ground.

In the explosion, the TARDIS had truly seemed nothing more than an ordinary police phone box—what flew out were old wooden splinters, painted in faded blue.

The twelve Doctors were also blown apart, each hovering motionless in midair. A little farther away, Voldemort retained an expression of shock; Dumbledore's face bore suspicion—but both, like the Doctors, remained utterly frozen.

Harry turned his head. He could have returned to the Magic Tower through the rubble-strewn corridor—but now, he saw only a vast, white fog.

Harry stepped unconsciously along the corridor. It resembled the afterlife—endless white, nothing visible.

"What… is this?" Harry murmured.

The Temporal Instant Matrix in his hand still radiated warmth—but Harry instinctively felt this warmth wouldn't last long.

"That moment," a voice came from behind. "The prophecy may have meant this moment."

Harry turned. Barty stood calmly on the ground, holding a pocket watch.

"Don't panic, Harry. Though the plan had some deviations, overall it's manageable," he said. "As you see, due to unforeseen circumstances—or rather, improper operation—the TARDIS exploded."

"You mean 'improper operation' is driving the same TARDIS from twelve different time points to the exact same moment, and smashing an Anti-Apparition barrier?" Harry slowly understood what had happened. "I'm surprised it didn't explode sooner."

"Don't worry, Harry. The TARDIS has exploded before," Barty said. "We fixed it. You needn't be so tense."

"But what about all these people?" Harry pointed at the frozen figures—including Voldemort, Dumbledore, and the other Doctors.

"Well, let me explain—the TARDIS explosion and the Temporal Instant Matrix explosion are the same: time potential energy failed to convert into magic, so it dissipated in an explosion. Or, using physics, you could invent a concept called 'kinetic time'—even though it doesn't exist." Barty sat down on a pile of debris. "So we're currently in a stasis of spacetime. We should be completely frozen like them—but thanks to stored time potential energy, we can still move for a while."

"Temporal Instant Matrix." Harry looked at the device in his hand. "It stores a month's worth of time potential energy—I can move for a month?"

"Not exactly calculated that way. But you'll have some time. I only have three hours," Barty said. "Crafting the Temporal Instant Matrix is extremely difficult. I tried to replicate it—but failed. This replica can store at most three hours."

"Three hours, a month—it doesn't matter," Harry shook his head bitterly. "When time runs out, we'll just freeze, right?"

"Yes," Barty nodded. "But don't worry—if someone performs the ritual to pull us out before then, we can return to the real world."

"Is that so?" Harry felt something odd. He glanced again at the frozen figures. "You seem to have planned this?"

"Not exactly. Because the TARDIS exploded once before, the Department of Mysteries knows about this situation," Barty said. "We've performed the Temporal Return Ritual before—it's not difficult. Ollivander should bring us back."

"He'll try to pull back everyone frozen. But for those already stasis-locked, the ritual won't work," Barty showed a flicker of sorrow. "But for us two—if we respond to the call—we can return."