days at Hogwarts

Chapter 533: Strange Locket

The basement kitchen had been vacant for many years and was only recently cleaned. The firewood in the fireplace released insignificant light and heat. The lights were still bright. The room was old but tidy. At the same time, in front of Loren and the other two, a cold and ominous black fog was released from the long table. It was as thick as ink, spreading continuously and swallowing up the light.

Three figures walked out slowly from the black fog. They were different from those lifeless magic portraits and also different from the illusory and transparent ghosts. The three figures were lifelike, with delicate textures on every inch of their skin. They blinked and looked vivid and lively, and except for the wisps of black smoke floating on their bodies, they were no different from real people.

Even more refined and handsome, so beautiful that it seems unreal.

The man on the right looked exactly like Headmaster Dumbledore, with silver hair and beard, but he was more sturdy, his nose was high instead of crooked, his deep blue eyes were sparkling, and he was wearing a rough cloth robe and a linen apron stained with various stains, which was completely different from the Headmaster's usual gentle and kind temperament.

In the middle is a slender girl wearing a light blue satin dress. She has slightly dry blonde hair and a pair of eyes on her slightly sickly face that are very lively and endearing.

On the left is a body so thin that only a skeleton is left, with sparse and falling hair. Maybe he was very handsome when he was young, but now he is just an old and frail man with almost no teeth and cloudy eyes sunken in his eye sockets.

The faces of the three people gave Loren a strange feeling. He knew that the figures of these three people were dug out from the depths of Dumbledore's mind by the Horcrux. This feeling became clearer and clearer. He had vaguely guessed the identities of the three people.

"It's been many years since I last saw you..."

The old man, who was so thin that only a skeleton was left, spoke softly. He smiled and raised his head, but his eyes seemed to pass through countless obstacles in space. "Albus, look at you, you are still so beautiful, just like when you were young. Look at me, this body has aged beyond recognition and is so ugly that I even hate myself. No wonder you don't want to look at me more..."

Although he was talking about old times and greetings, Loren and Hermione felt a little awkward. They sensed a chill from the old man's smile and voice, and they shrank their necks and looked at Dumbledore.

"You are atonement, Gellert, for the blood on the tip of your wand, for the thousands of sins you have committed..." Dumbledore's blue eyes were particularly deep, and his voice was like a breeze, neither hurried nor slow, and he enunciated each word slowly.

"So I was imprisoned by you in Nurmengard..."

The thin old man nodded gently. "I have suffered torture and humiliation. The wind and rain often hit the tower. The cold and hunger always torture every bone in this body to make unbearable groans. When I dream at midnight, I often wonder who agreed with my unrealistic fantasies when I was young and encouraged me to do everything for a higher interest... Is it you, Albus?"

Dumbledore listened quietly to the words of the black mist figure. He slowly closed his eyes and then opened them. Apart from that, he did not have any violent reaction, as if his heart had calmed down forever. "I think so, but after I woke up, I also tried to redeem your thoughts... but it was too late then, so I am willing to atone for it."

"Tsk..." The thin old man laughed softly, seemingly noncommittal about it.

"Is it my death that has awakened you, brother?"

The girl in the blue dress in the middle whispered, tilting her head, blinking her lively eyes, looking at him with wet eyes, like a wounded young animal, pitiful, "Ariana wants to travel with you. You promised me to take me with you, to the places you planned to go, to the places you didn't go on your graduation trip, to give those smart speeches of yours, have you forgotten that Ariana is your first follower."

Dumbledore's eyes were slightly red, his nostrils were trembling slightly, his breathing became difficult, and his originally upright body seemed to be a little hunched.

It was obvious that the old headmaster was heartbroken. Loren and Hermione tried their best to reduce their presence, but they were worried about him.

Although Hermione didn't know the whole story, she guessed part of it and reminded him in a low voice: "Headmaster, this is fake. This is an illusion created by the Horcrux."

Dumbledore blinked twice, exhaled slowly, and said bitterly: "I know, I know..."

It just didn't explain what he knew, whether he knew that these were all illusions created by the Horcruxes, or he knew what Ariana said...

Loren quietly clenched his wand. There was something wrong with Dumbledore's current state. He was able to remain calm and unmoved when facing the phantom of Gellert Grindelwald before, but now his emotions and reason were disturbed by Ariana's phantom.

"There's only one thing I want to say."

The man on the right, wearing a rough cloth robe, spoke in a low voice. His face, which was very similar to Dumbledore's, had a hideous and vicious expression. The flames of hatred floated in his blue eyes, as if he wanted to burn everything in front of him. "That night I saw your spell hit Ariana with my own eyes, with my own eyes, I saw it!"

"No matter whose spell it was, I am willing to take the blame," Dumbledore said softly, "I have always had this idea..."

"Hypocrisy, an excuse to comfort yourself!" Grindelwald sneered, his body swaying in the black mist, his eyes glowing red. "You have the memory of that day, and your Pensieve can clearly show the true situation of that day. Why don't you see it with your own eyes! You know that it was you who killed your sister, killed the burden that dragged you down, and killed the sick cat that trapped your outstanding talent in Godric's Hollow!"

"It was your spell that hit me, brother. I'm in so much pain, my body is in so much pain, my heart is in so much pain..." "Ariana"'s voice became hoarse and sinister, her hair swirled and flew like flames, and her sharp eyes seemed to pierce into the man's chest.

"I saw it with my own eyes, it was you, it was you! That's why I don't want to see you. For so many years, I didn't want to send you even a greeting card even for Christmas..." "Aberforth" roared in a deep voice.

The voices of the three people mixed together, interweaving into a resentful trio, like the hissing of a howling banshee, or the sound of some kind of snake exhaling violently and its throat trembling.

The vibration makes the eardrums tighten and the heart beat nervously.

Loren and Hermione's hearts sank as the black fog expanded with the sound. A cold and ominous aura spread out, as if it wanted to swallow up the old headmaster in front of them and use his tremendous magic power to nourish the remaining soul in his body and turn it into nutrients for his resurrection.

A gleam of crystal light flashed quickly in Dumbledore's eyes. The next moment, a blazing red light floated. Suddenly, a painful roar came from the source of the black fog. The figures of the three people gradually deformed in the firelight. The figures were stretched, twisted, torn apart, and turned into specks of black fog.

With a crisp cracking sound, the black mist suddenly dissipated, the locket jingled on the table, and the two tightly closed small windows drooped weakly to the sides.

It was not until the basement kitchen was lit again that Hermione, who had been nervous for half a day, breathed a sigh of relief. The words just heard remained in her mind, and every sentence was extremely clear. Combined with what she had learned about the headmaster's past, she easily pieced together the whole picture of the matter.

She looked at Dumbledore with some concern: "Just now... those... Headmaster, are you okay?"

"Nothing, just delayed for a while observing Slytherin's magic..." "What?"

Dumbledore spoke softly, his tone revealing weakness and fatigue. "Salazar Slytherin once left the magic he studied in the locket. It seems that he wanted to observe someone through the locket, perhaps to examine his successor. In short, the magic in the box can directly touch the deepest and most fundamental part of the soul..."

Loren glanced at the old principal and felt that he didn't want to talk too much about the three figures and their words, so he changed the subject.

"What do you mean?" Hermione didn't quite understand.

"The magic that currently exists regarding the brain and soul is very crude, such as the Imperius Curse, Legilimency, Oblivion, False Memory Charm, and Occlumency..."

Dumbledore took a few steps forward and casually opened the locket to check. The two original eyeballs had been burned to ashes. "In essence, they only touched the soul lightly. The Oblivion Charm and the False Memory Charm can be broken by powerful wizards, and the Imperius Curse can break free with willpower..."

"And the magic left by Slytherin can directly touch the depths of the soul. Unfortunately, Tom doesn't know how to use this power. He can only use it crudely to react to the target's fear, trying to gain strength from fear."

Dumbledore took out his eyeballs and carefully examined the magic runes on the inner wall of the small window of the locket. "This is the small window of the locket, and it is also the window to people's hearts. It allows people to look directly into their hearts and discover the love, courage, wisdom, kindness, or dreams that they cannot perceive... In short, it can exert infinite power."

"Like the Sorting Hat?"

Hermione's words touched Loren's heart, and some bizarre guesses flashed through his mind.

"It is countless times more powerful than the Score Hat..." Dumbledore shook his head and sighed regretfully, "What a pity..."

Loren looked down at the pendant box. There was a black scorch mark in the center of the inner wall of the small window, and a tiny crack appeared. There was a faint flickering light and shadow in the crack, as if the magic power contained in the magic runes and the material was quickly dissipating. The emerald inlaid on the serpentine pattern had long since become dull, and the mysterious and noble aura on it had disappeared without a trace at some point, leaving only simplicity and antiquity.

Just as Loren was feeling sorry for it, the emeralds at the eyes of the snake pattern suddenly flashed, as if reflecting the candlelight hanging high on the ceiling, but Loren's shadow completely covered the pendant, so there was no possibility of any reflection. He clearly saw the snake winking at him.

Loren immediately looked at Hermione and Dumbledore on his left and right, but found that they were still looking down at the locket, and didn't seem to notice anything unusual. Hermione turned her head slightly and looked at him with a little confusion:

"Did you find anything?"

Loren was silent for a moment, shook his head and said nothing more. He turned his gaze back to the broken Slytherin locket, staring at the dull gem snake pattern for a few seconds. After confirming that there was nothing else abnormal about the snake pupil, he turned his gaze to the recognizable magic runes on the inner wall of the small window.

The pendant was not very big, and there were not many magic runes engraved on it. I could see most of them at a glance. Most of them were lost magic runes whose meanings were unclear, mixed with a few clear magic runes in current use. It was impossible to deduce and reproduce the refining of the pendant.

Perhaps there is a glimmer of hope if you spend a lot of time studying magic runes.

"Principal, can you leave this destroyed Horcrux with me? I want to study the magic runes on it." Loren asked in a low voice as he watched the light in the gap gradually dim.

Dumbledore glanced at him and nodded slightly. "Of course, these runes are the only valuable things on this tattered locket."

Loren grinned, narrowed his eyes and asked, "The locket is destroyed, the diary was destroyed long ago... The other Horcruxes we have left, Headmaster Dumbledore, should we destroy them now?"

This child seems a little greedy. Dumbledore smiled helplessly and said, "Destroying the Horcruxes means destroying the items passed down by the founders of Hogwarts. It's not the end yet..."

"Is it possible to confirm how many Horcruxes Voldemort has created?" Hermione asked in a low voice.

"Members of the Order of the Phoenix and I are investigating this matter from many aspects, but at present we only have clues and cannot be sure of the situation..." A familiar face of an old friend emerged in Dumbledore's blue eyes, and he silently moved up the plan of visiting the friend.

"By the way, I haven't given you the birthday present that I've been putting off for so long..."

……

The doors and windows were closed, and an old man with snow-white hair was hung upside down in the air. His fluffy beard was hanging down due to gravity, swaying and covering his face which was red due to congestion. His arms were tied tightly behind his back.

There were countless wands neatly arranged on the wooden shelves in the room. As one of the three greatest wand makers in Europe, Gregorovitch clearly understood the characteristics of each wand: blackthorn wood was powerful and suitable for duels, cedar wood was perceptive and could detect danger before it came, and dogwood wands were playful and naughty, but could perform exceptionally well in dangerous situations and were suitable for escaping from desperate situations...

But the most suitable one for him now is the despised cypress wand, because the owners of cypress wands always die gloriously.

Not far ahead, a lady with a slender silver metal hand was holding a wand. The workmanship was exquisite and the materials were carefully selected. Gregorovitch could easily recognize that it came from another master who was as famous as him.

Damn you Ollivander, you've caused me so much trouble...

Gregorovitch cried out in fear: "I don't have it, I don't have it anymore! It was stolen from me many years ago! It's really not with me..."

"Don't lie to me, Gregorovitch..."

"I can hand over my memory, and you can tell the truth from the false just by looking at it!"

(End of this chapter)