days at Hogwarts

Chapter 736 True Memory

In the dim underground secret room, the black-haired, green-eyed boy in the mirror looked pale, and some subtle changes were taking place. When this change exceeded a certain critical point, the face that also had a scar suddenly became unfamiliar.

The gloomy and indifferent man in the mirror was also staring at Harry outside the mirror, with a faint smile on his lips. It was a gentle and polite smile, but it made people feel very uncomfortable and gloomy.

Harry stood in front of the mirror and heard his own heart pounding. The sound of his heartbeat made the Chamber of Secrets even quieter. He quietly hooked his little finger with his right hand hanging by his side. This was a test.

The person in the mirror did not move his finger, but instead stared at Harry outside the mirror with an interested look. His green eyes shrank slightly, forming a vertical pupil shape, like a venomous snake seeing its prey.

Harry saw his lips move slightly, and he uttered a very soft word: "Idiot."

Of course, mirrors don't make any sound, but Harry heard it. It wasn't the first time he had heard this sound. He had heard it before, more times than he expected.

Memories surged like a tidal wave, suppressing all insignificant sounds to the lowest level. The only thing left was the sound I just heard, which was exactly the same as the sound in my memory:

When speaking to snakes in Parseltongue, he is actually whispering;
It was he who reminded us when our first graders charged at the troll on Halloween;

The day he learned Occlumency to spy on Professor Snape's memories, it was he who helped him control Legilimency;

And when I was exposed to the dark arts, when I was standing on the stage giving lectures to the DA...

The sound that he had never paid attention to before suddenly became deafening, but it did not make Harry feel uncomfortable. He had heard it many times and was used to it. In a trance, he even thought that it was his own voice, coming from inside, not passing through the air to the eardrum, but heard before speaking.

The inscription on the top of the Mirror of Erised flashed with a dim metallic luster. The words that reflected the desire in the heart seemed to be recited by someone, like a faint whisper in the ear.

"This is not my face, but my deepest desire." Harry chanted softly, unable to tell whether it was Voldemort's voice or his own, and then silently chanted a spell in his heart.

"Legilimency."

The magic of prying into memory did not emerge. As the person in the mirror took off his glasses, the familiar face in the mirror became a little hazy. His eyes began to become unfocused and difficult to focus, and the scene in the mirror became blurred.

In a trance, he saw himself standing in the old Gaunt house. At that time, the house was not completely abandoned, and the pottery jars on the shelves were still in use. He looked at these clean pottery jars, commemorating the witch named Merope Gaunt who died on New Year's Eve in 1926.

In the next room lies the unconscious Morfin Gaunt, who has been given a memory that does not belong to him, a memory of murdering the Riddle family.

Who did it?
"It seems to be... me?"

This answer seemed wrong. Before he could think about it carefully, the scene in the mirror changed again.

"Dong dong dong..."

It was a dark night. In front of me was an imposing manor. Someone was knocking on the door. The voice was urgent and impatient. There was a dark-skinned witch next to me. She held her wand tightly in her hand, waiting for the middle-aged man to open the door. The wand immediately emitted a red light...

Was that... Barty Crouch from the Ministry of Magic?

Who murdered him?

Two Death Eaters.

Confused thoughts flashed through my mind, and my vision became blurry again.

After waking up, I found myself in the study of an old house at the deepest part of Spinner's End Alley. The light was not dim, but I still couldn't see the face of another wizard in the room. He was explaining the principles of Horcruxes. All that knowledge was in his mind, and he spoke it out loud and casually.

"The process of making a Horcrux is to split the soul through murder, and then take part of the soul out of the body and put it into an object outside the body. This object is the Horcrux. Even if the body is attacked or destroyed, there are still fragments of the soul that remain intact in the world.

"Believe me, it is not a pleasant feeling to have your body destroyed, Severus..." He squinted his eyes and looked carefully, and finally saw the face in front of him clearly. It was his servant, Severus Snape.

……

"To create a Horcrux, a wizard must first intentionally commit a murder.

"It is not enough to kill in self-defense or to protect another. The crime of killing must be committed intentionally and consciously, without any remorse for it. This is the most evil act, which can tear the soul of the murderer apart.

"Wizards who wish to create Horcruxes take advantage of this destruction and use a spell to seal the fragments of the soul into a specific object."

Harry in front of the mirror murmured softly.

Loren and Hermione stood in front of the right side of the Mirror of Erised, looked up and saw a strange and terrifying scene. The reflection in the mirror was no longer the pale Harry. The face with vertical pupils, no nose and bloodless complexion was clearly the resurrected Voldemort.

This is the reflection of the Mirror of Erised based on several objects?

So what was Harry doing? Trying to legilimency on Voldemort's shadow?
Harry seems to be in a very bad state now?
Loren took a few cautious steps forward, approaching the magic mirror and coming to Harry's side. He gently shook Harry's right hand, and Voldemort in the mirror also shook the hand on the same side, and moved his eyes to stare at himself outside the mirror.

Harry still stood there quietly, his eyes were unfocused, he murmured about the method of making Horcruxes, and occasionally called Severus' name. Voldemort's soul and memory were too heavy, even if they were just fragments, it made Harry breathless and almost lost.

This figure was not a virtual illusion created by Eris, but a reflection of reality.

"Loren..." Hermione lowered her voice. She stared at the mirror seriously and cautiously, then glanced back at the three nervous people behind her. "What should we do now?"

Loren thought for a moment. If the second half of today's journey was to look for traces of Voldemort, but the first stop was Little Whinging in Privet Drive, it was to look for traces of Harry Potter. He had a vague direction in his mind and looked at Harry outside the mirror calmly.

No one is better at projecting memory-based illusions through mirrors than he is.

……

"Harry..."

Someone was calling out softly in my vague memory, but I didn't know who they were calling. It was annoying.

The duck-like voice in the puberty period belonged to the annoying Dudley Dursley. He identified him carefully and suddenly felt a little puzzled as to why he knew this name.

The shouting was getting closer and closer, as if someone would push the door open at any moment.

He subconsciously looked for his wand, wanting to use the Killing Curse to kill this annoying guy. Even if he couldn't continue making Horcruxes, at least he could vent his anger.

"Avada..." He chanted the spell softly, and suddenly found that he was standing in a warm and tidy living room. All the furniture and furnishings were familiar, even the tiles on the wall and the carpet under his feet.

The overweight young man stood in front of him with a shy look on his face: "Harry, thank you for saving my life."

"..."

He said nothing and made no answer.

"By the way Harry, happy birthday to you."

Harry was stunned for a moment, and his own memories came flooding back. The sound of broken glass was crisp and pleasant, and the cracks gradually spread.

(End of this chapter)