Other than Adrian Ambrosius, the remaining three members of the Ambrosius family had completely vanished.
Yet their disappearance brought Voldemort unbearable agony.
It was a pain greater than any Unforgivable Curse—a permanent wound carved into his soul.
An ancient magical curse relentlessly gnawed at his very essence.
Every inch of Voldemort’s soul felt as though it had been covered by countless parasitic insects.
Innumerable tiny sensations—itching, tingling, stinging, and burning—merged together into an overwhelming torrent of torment.
His loose black robes concealed his trembling body.
The pain was so intense that he could barely keep hold of his wand.
“What kind of magic is this?!”
The moment the words left his mouth, an immense pressure descended upon him.
An invisible giant hand seized Voldemort, twisting his already distorted face even further.
Unable to move, he watched helplessly as the scenery before him rapidly retreated.
Nording Island was rejecting him.
It was expelling the intruder from its domain.
By the time Voldemort regained control of his body, he had already been thrown beyond the island’s magical barrier.
The opening he had painstakingly torn through moments earlier had completely repaired itself.
Before him lay nothing but the tranquil waters of Lake Windermere.
Nording Island had once again disappeared beneath its magical concealment.
“Damn you, Ambrosius…”
Enduring the relentless torment clawing at his soul, Voldemort’s expression darkened further.
His narrow crimson eyes stared at the barrier before him.
Just as he raised his hand to cast another spell, he frowned.
“I concealed my movements well enough…
yet that old fool Dumbledore still noticed.”
“And he arrived faster than I expected.”
Taking a deep breath, Voldemort reluctantly abandoned the attempt.
His body dissolved into black smoke before vanishing into the sky.
Only a few minutes after his departure, a burst of crimson-and-gold flames appeared where he had stood.
At first, it was merely a tiny flicker.
Then the flames twisted and expanded, and two figures stepped out into midair through Apparition.
One was a wizard dressed in simple gray robes, carrying himself with extraordinary dignity.
He was the greatest wizard of the twentieth century—
Albus Dumbledore.
At this time, Dumbledore’s beard had not yet turned completely white.
Looking at the empty lake before him, he let out a long sigh.
“It seems he’s already gone.”
The other was a stern middle-aged witch.
She drew her wand and lightly tapped the air several times before speaking.
“Professor, from what I can tell, the barrier is completely intact and exceptionally powerful.
It would appear Voldemort failed.”
Dumbledore was about to respond when the barrier seemed to recognize his presence.
A single thread of golden light slowly emerged through the barrier and drifted into his waiting hand.
“Something Philin left behind?”
With a wave of his wand, the water beneath his feet instantly froze into a broad platform of ice.
At its center appeared an exquisitely crafted silver basin.
As he gently placed the golden thread into the basin, Dumbledore spoke to the witch beside him.
“Minerva, come.
Let us see what message Philin left for us.”
The witch called Minerva was none other than Hogwarts’ Deputy Headmistress, Minerva McGonagall.
The two leaned over the Pensieve-like basin.
Within it, everything that had happened inside Nording Island unfolded clearly before their eyes.
When the memory ended, McGonagall slowly raised her gaze, grief filling her face.
“Yogar and the others…
they were such kind people.”
“They had only just welcomed their own child.”
Dumbledore remained silent.
But the sorrow in his eyes was just as profound.
“Professor Dumbledore, we have to go inside.”
“Little Adrian Ambrosius has no family left to care for him.”
“If this continues, his life will be in danger.”
Dumbledore slowly shook his head.
“Setting aside how difficult it would be to break through this barrier…”
“I believe we should trust Philin.”
“And Yogar and Jorina as well.”
“They were all powerful and meticulous wizards.”
“I’m certain they prepared for this.”
“They would never allow the Ambrosius family’s last bloodline to perish so easily.”
He turned toward what appeared to be empty space nearby.
“Am I right…
Shufus?”
As his words fell, a short figure suddenly appeared out of thin air.
It was a house-elf.
“So…
you still remember my name, Professor.”
Unlike ordinary house-elves, this one was neither filthy nor timid.
His clothes were clean.
His back was perfectly straight.
His large eyes reflected wisdom and composure rather than fear.
Dumbledore smiled gently.
“A house-elf as exceptional as you is a rare sight indeed.”
McGonagall looked at him curiously.
“Albus…
who is he?”
Before Dumbledore could answer, the elf spoke first.
“I am the house-elf of the Ambrosius family.”
McGonagall immediately understood.
A family’s dedicated house-elf.
House-elves already possessed the finest spatial magic in the wizarding world.
With the family’s magical crest, passing through even an airtight magical barrier was an effortless task.
Knowing well the extraordinary nature of house-elf magic, McGonagall spoke earnestly.
“Then, Shufus…
could you take us onto the island?”
“Little Adrian Ambrosius needs a safe environment in which to grow up.”
“No.”
Shufus clenched his tiny fists.
“You are the most trustworthy friends my masters ever spoke of.”
“But the Ambrosius family cannot afford to take even the slightest risk.”
“I will never hand Young Master Adrian Ambrosius over to anyone.”
“But—”
McGonagall tried to continue, only for Dumbledore to gently raise a hand, stopping her.
Shufus lowered his head slightly.
“For the glory and inheritance of the Ambrosius family…”
“Shufus will take good care of Young Master Adrian Ambrosius.”
“There is no need for you to worry.”
With that, he snapped his fingers.
His small figure instantly disappeared.
McGonagall frowned.
“How can he…”
“He’s only a house-elf.”
Dumbledore adjusted his half-moon spectacles.
“And yet…”
“I believe there is no servant in this world more loyal to the Ambrosius family than he is.”
“Since he has already made his choice, and the continuation of the Ambrosius family has its own arrangements…”
“We should not interfere any further.”
With another wave of his wand, the crimson-and-gold flames that had vanished earlier reappeared, forming a portal.
“It’s time to go, Minerva.”
“And don’t forget…”
“The Ambrosius family is far from Voldemort’s only target.”
“Lily and James’s child will soon be born as well.”
“There is still much for us to do.”
“We cannot allow him to continue running rampant.”
Watching Dumbledore step into the portal, McGonagall bit her lip before following him.
Just before disappearing, she cast one final glance at the invisible barrier surrounding the island.
“I hope you grow up safely, little Adrian Ambrosius…”
As the two vanished into the flames, Lake Windermere returned to its tranquil silence, peaceful beneath the warm June sky.
And throughout the entire wizarding world, almost no one knew what had truly happened there.