HP meets at Hogwarts

Chapter 163 Lesson 4

Chapter 160 Chapter Three, Fourth Lesson

Ann strictly followed Dumbledore's request. In the second day's secret exchange, he did not remind Harry, but said that he did not know about the "Horcrux" and how to complete Dumbledore's homework.

In the end, Ann proposed a method that was not a solution. Harry could find a way to test Professor Slughorn more, and Hermione and Ann would be given the task of searching for information in the library.

But this time, for the first time in history, the library failed Hermione.She rummaged through the first section, but only found one clue. In the preface of "The Most Poisonous Magic", there is a sentence 'about Horcruxes, the most evil magical invention, I will not discuss or guide here'.

No way, now all hope is placed on Harry, it seems that only he can get this memory.

Time soon entered February, and the snow at Hogwarts began to melt gradually.Harry blocked Professor Slughorn after a Potions class, but he didn't ask anything, and instead made the other party very wary.

Harry's heart was undoubtedly heavy on the way to his fourth lesson.Because he didn't get any information that he should know.

"I'm sorry, sir, I didn't get the memory." Harry said in a low tone when he saw Dumbledore.

"I know this is difficult, take your time, Harry." Dumbledore didn't mean to blame Harry at all, but Harry felt even more guilty, and he made up his mind to try again a few times.

"Let's continue to tell the story that we couldn't finish last time," said Dumbledore. "Do you remember where we were?"

"Remember, sir," said Harry quickly, "that Voldemort killed his father and grandparents in a way that people thought it was his uncle. Then he went back to Hogwarts to ask... Professor Slughorn Horcruxes," he murmured shamefully.

"Very well," said Dumbledore, "now, I hope you will remember that I told you at the beginning of my private lessons that we were going into the realm of speculation and conjecture."

"Remember, sir."

"I hope you also think that what I've shown you so far are fairly reliable facts from which I can deduce what happened to Voldemort before he was seventeen."

Harry nodded.

"But now, Harry, the situation is even more blurred and weird. If it is difficult to find evidence about the young Riddle, it is almost impossible to find someone who can remember the adult Voldemort. In fact, I suspect that anyone other than himself , is there a living person who can give us a detailed account of his life after leaving Hogwarts. However, I have two last memories to share with you." Dumbledore said, pointing to the side of the Pensieve, which was shining Bright two small crystal bottles, "Afterwards, I will be very happy to hear your judgment on whether the conclusions I have drawn are reasonable."

The fact that Dumbledore took his judgment so seriously made Harry even more ashamed that he hadn't been able to get the Horcrux's memory.He shifted guiltily in his chair, and Dumbledore held the first bottle up to the light and studied it.

"I hope you're not tired of diving into other people's memories, because they're weird. These two," he said, "the first one came from a very old house-elf, her name was Hao Qi. Looking at Hao Qi Before Qi's testimony, I must say briefly how Voldemort left Hogwarts."

"As you may have guessed, he made it to the seventh grade with the top grades in every exam. The students around him are thinking about what career they want to pursue after graduation. Almost everyone thinks that Tom Riddle will have an amazing Jianshu, he is a prefect, a top student, and has received special awards from the school. I know that several teachers, including Professor Slughorn, suggested that he enter the Ministry of Magic and offered to introduce him, but he refused all of them. .The faculty learned later that he had gone to work at Borgin-Bock."

"Borgin-Bock?" Harry asked in amazement.

"Birgin-Bock," said Dumbledore quietly, "I think, when it enters Hokey's memory, you'll see what attraction that place has for him. But it wasn't Voldemort's first choice. No one knew at the time - I was one of the few people who heard the old headmaster say it. Voldemort first went to Professor Dippet and asked him if he could stay and teach at Hogwarts."

"He wants to stay here?" Harry was even more surprised.

"I believe he has several reasons, though he hasn't told Professor Dippet any of them," said Dumbledore. "First, the very important one, is that Voldemort has more affection for this school than he does for any individual. Huo Gwartz was his happiest place, the first and only place he felt like home."

Harry was a little uncomfortable hearing those words, because that was how he felt about Hogwarts too.

"Secondly, this castle is the stronghold of ancient magic. Voldemort has undoubtedly discovered more secrets here than most students, but he may feel that there are still many unsolved mysteries and many magical treasures to be discovered. "

"Thirdly, as a teacher, he can have a great influence over young wizards. This idea may come from Professor Slughorn, the professor with whom he has the best relationship. Slughorn made him Seeing how much of an impact a teacher can have. I never thought Voldemort was planning to stay at Hogwarts his whole life, I think he saw it as a good place to recruit people and he could build a team for himself."

"But he didn't get the job, sir?"

"No. Professor Dippet said he was too young, but he is welcome to apply again in two years, if he still wants to teach by then."

"What do you think of the matter, sir?" Harry asked hesitantly.

"Very uneasy," said Dumbledore. "I advised Armando not to hire him—I didn't give the reasons just mentioned, because Professor Dippet liked Voldemort very much and believed in his honesty—but I don't want Voldemort returning to this school, especially in a position of power."

"What position does he want? What class does he want to teach?"

Before Dumbledore could answer, Harry knew the answer.

"Defense Against the Dark Arts was taught by an old professor named Galatia Meles. He has been at Hogwarts for nearly 50 years."

"Voldemort went to Borgin-Bock, and all the teachers who admired him said it was a pity that such a talented young wizard went to be a clerk. But Voldemort was not just a clerk. Because he was polite, handsome and intelligent, he quickly got A special job only in a place like Borging and Burke. You know, Harry, this shop specializes in items with special properties. Voldemort was sent to persuade people to give treasures to sell in the shop. Very good at things.”

"I believe." Harry couldn't help but say.

"Yes," said Dumbledore with a feeble smile, "now it's time to hear the memories of the house-elf, Hokey, who belonged to an elderly and very wealthy witch named Hepzibah. .Smith."

Dumbledore tapped a vial with his wand, the cork flew out, and he poured the swirling memory into the Pensieve, saying, "You go first, Harry."

Harry stood up and leaned again towards the rippling silvery substance in the stone basin until his face touched it.He fell somersaulting through the dark void into a living room and saw a very fat old lady in a delicate ginger wig, with bright pink gowns spread around her open.She was facing a small jeweled mirror, applying rouge to her already brightly red cheeks with a large powder puff.One of the thinnest, oldest house-elfs Harry had ever seen was fixing a tight pair of satin buckle buckles on the old lady's fat feet.

"Hurry up, Hao Qi!" Hepziba said imperiously. "He said to come at four, and it's only two minutes away, and he's never been late."

She puts away the puff.The house-elf straightened up so that her head reached Hepzibah's cushion, and the papery skin hung from the frame like the fine linen robe she wore.

"How am I?" Hepzibah asked, turning her head to admire her mirrored face from every angle.

"It's beautiful, ma'am," Hao Qi said sharply.

Harry could only speculate that Hotkey's contract required her to lie through her teeth when she answered this question, because it seemed to him that Hepzibah.Smith is far from beautiful.

The doorbell jingled, and both the hostess and the elf jumped to their feet.

"Quick, quick, here he comes, Hokey!" cried Hepzibah, and the elf ran out of the house.The room was so crowded that it was impossible to imagine anyone walking through the room without knocking over at least a dozen things.Cabinets displaying lacquered boxes, shelves lined with gilded books, shelves of stars and astrographs, and many lush plants growing in copper vessels.The room looked like a cobbled together magical curio shop and greenhouse.

The elf came back after a while, followed by a tall young man, whom Harry recognized immediately as Voldemort.He was wearing a black suit, his hair was a little longer than in school, his cheeks were sunken, but it suited him well, and he looked even more handsome.He walked carefully through the crowded room, apparently he had been here many times, then bent down low, and gently touched Hepzibah's chubby hand with his lips.

"I brought you flowers." He whispered, conjuring a bouquet of roses in his hand.

"You naughty boy, you shouldn't!" screamed old Hepzibah, but Harry noticed she had an empty vase ready on a side table, "You spoiled me old lady Now, Tom... sit down, sit down... where's Hotkey... ah..."

The house-elf rushed into the room with a tray of small pastries, and set the tray at the elbow of the mistress.

"Eat what you want, Tom," said Hepzibah, "I know you like my cakes. How are you? You're a little pale. You've been used too hard in the shop, I've said it a hundred times... ..."

Hepzibah giggled, and Voldemort smiled mechanically.

"Hey, what's your excuse for coming to see me this time?" she asked, blinking her eyelashes.

"Mr. Bork wanted to offer a higher price for the armor made of goblins, five hundred galleons, he thought it was fair enough—"

"Oh, oh, don't be in such a hurry, or I'll think you're only here for my play!" said Hepzibah, pouted.

"I was sent for them," said Voldemort softly. "I am only a little clerk, ma'am, to be told. Mr. Bork wants me to ask—"

"Oh, Mr. Bork, bah!" said Hepziba, waving his small hands, "I want to show you something that Mr. Bork has never seen! Can you keep it a secret, Tom? You can promise not to tell Mr. Bork that I Got this? He'd never let me go if he knew I showed you. I'm not selling this, not to Bock, not to anybody! But you, Tom, you'll appreciate its history , instead of just thinking about how many Galleons you can earn..."

"I'd love to see anything Miss Hepzibah showed me," whispered Voldemort, and Hepzibah giggled like a girl again.

"I asked Hao Qi to take it out... Hao Qi, where are you? I want Mr. Riddle to look at our best treasure... why don't you just bring them both..."

"Here it is, ma'am," shrieked the house-elf, and Harry saw two leather boxes stacked on top of each other, seeming to float towards them, and he knew it was because of the tiny little elf Holding them up, walking among tables, recliners and cushions.

"Okay," said Hepzibah cheerfully, taking the box from the elf and laying it on his lap, ready to open the top one, "I think you'll like it, Tom... oh, if my relatives know I let you see...they will come and snatch it right away!"

She opened the box.Harry leaned forward and saw what appeared to be a small gold cup inside, with two delicate ears.

"Do you know what this is, Tom? Take it and look at it!" said Hepzibah softly.Voldemort stretched out his slender fingers, grasped one ear stem, and lifted the cup from its soft satin lining.Harry saw what seemed to be a gleam of red in his dark eyes.His greedy expression was strangely reflected in Hepzibah's face, but her small eyes were fixed on Voldemort's handsome face.

"Badger," murmured Voldemort, debating the carving on the cup, "this is..."

"Helga Hufflepuff, you're very good at it, clever boy!" said Hepzibah, leaning over and pinching his sunken cheek, his corset creaking loudly, "I didn't follow Did you say I'm a distant descendant of Hufflepuff? It's been in my family for ages and years. It's beautiful, isn't it? It's said to have all kinds of magic, but I haven't tried it much, I just keep it nice put it here..."

She hooked the cup back from Voldemort's elongated forefinger, and was so absorbed in fitting it back in place that she didn't notice the shadow that flitted across Voldemort's face as the cup was retrieved.

"Well," said Hepziba cheerfully, "where's Hao Qi? Oh, here—take it, Hao Qi—"

The elf obediently took the cup box.Hepziba turned her attention to the flatter box on her lap.

"I think you'd like this better, Tom," she said softly. "Come closer, dear boy, and take a good look... Of course, Bock knows I have this, and I bought it from him. I dare say wait." He must want to take it back when I die..."

She pushed aside the delicate gold thread buckle and opened the lid.On a cushion of crimson velvet lay a heavy gold locket.

This time Voldemort reached out and picked up the small locket without waiting for the invitation, and held it up to the light to examine it carefully.

"Slytherin's mark," he whispered, a gorgeous, serpentine S.

"That's right!" Hepzibah was obviously pleased to see Voldemort staring at her locket with fascination. "I paid a lot of money for this, but I can't miss it. I must add it to my collection. Bock is Bought it from a shabby woman who probably stole it and didn't know its true value—"

It couldn't be wrong this time: Voldemort's eyes glowed red as she spoke, and Harry saw his knuckles turn white from the locket chain.

"—I dare say Bock didn't pay her much, but look... how pretty, isn't it? And all kinds of magic, though I just kept it safe..."

She reached for the locket.For a moment, Harry thought Voldemort would not let go, but it slipped from his fingers and landed on the red velvet cushion.

"Well, Tom, honey, I hope you like it!"

She studied his face, and for the first time Harry saw the smirk on her face freeze.

"Are you all right, dear?"

"It's all right," said Voldemort quietly, "it's all right, I'm fine..."

"I thought—it was the light—" Hepzibah said, sounding a little flustered.Harry guessed she might have seen that momentary gleam in Voldemort's eyes, too. "Here, Hokey, take them away and lock them up again...with the Elder Wand..."

"Time to go, Harry," said Dumbledore softly.Dumbledore grabbed Harry's arm as the elf waddled away holding the box, and together they ascended through the void to Dumbledore's office.

"Hepzibah. Smith died two days after this." Dumbledore sat down, motioning for Harry to do the same. "The Ministry of Magic judged that it was the house-elf Hokey who was drinking cocoa at her mistress' evening." It was misplaced in the tea."

"Impossible!" said Harry angrily.

"It seems that we agree," Dumbledore replied. "Of course, there are many similarities between this death and the Riddle family's murder. There are scapegoats in both cases, and the scapegoats have clear memories of the murders— —”

"Hao Qi admitted?"

"She remembered putting something in the mistress's cocoa tea, which turned out not to be sugar, but a rare and deadly drug. The verdict was that she wasn't a murderer, but she was blind—"

"Voldemort tampered with her memory, just like Morfin!"

"Yes, that's my conclusion too. And, like Morfin, the Ministry is inclined to suspect Hao Qi—"

"—because she's a house-elf," said Harry, who had never been more sympathetic to the society Hermione had organized: the House-Elf Liberation Front.

"Exactly, and she is old. After she admitted that there was something in the drink, no one in the Ministry of Magic thought of investigating it. It was the same with Morfin. When I found her and got her memory, she almost Has come to the end of her life. Of course, her memory only proves that Voldemort knew of the existence of the cup and the locket."

"When Hao Qi was convicted, Hepziba's family discovered that two of her most valuable treasures had been lost. It took them a while to ascertain this, as she had many secret hiding places and always kept Her collections were particularly strict, and before they decided the mug and locket were gone, the clerk at Borgin-Bock, the young man who used to visit Hepzibah and would please her in that way, had resigned and disappeared. His bosses didn't know where he was, they were as surprised as anyone else. Tom Riddle disappeared for a long time."

"Now," said Dumbledore, "if you don't mind, Harry, I would like to draw your attention to certain details in the story. Voldemort has committed another murder. I don't know if this is after Riddle The first after the murder, but I think it is. You must have seen that this time he is not out for revenge, but for profit. He wants those two treasures that the poor old lady showed him. Just Just as he robbed other children in the orphanage, just as he stole his uncle's ring, this time he stole Hepzibah's cup and locket."

"But," said Harry, frowning, "it seems crazy...to take such a big risk, and lose your job, just to..."

"Maybe it's crazy to you, but not to Voldemort," said Dumbledore. "I hope you'll understand what these things meant to him in the future, Harry. But he has to admit, at least it's not hard to imagine him thinking that the pendant The box is rightfully his."

"The locket maybe," said Harry, "but why did he take the cup too?"

"That cup once belonged to another founder of Hogwarts. I think the school still had a lot of appeal to Voldemort, he couldn't resist a thing steeped in Hogwarts history. I think there is still Other reasons... I hope to prove it to you in the future."

Dumbledore poured the last vial of memory into the Pensieve, and Harry stood up again.

"Whose memory is this?"

"Mine," said Dumbledore.

Harry followed Dumbledore into the flowing silver substance and landed in the office he had just left.Fox was fast asleep on the perch.Behind the desk was Dumbledore, who looked a lot like the one standing next to Harry, but with intact hands and perhaps a slightly less wrinkled face.The only difference between this office and the present one is that it is snowing outside, and light blue snow flakes float past the window in the dark and pile up on the window sill outside.

The younger Dumbledore seemed to be waiting for something, and sure enough, there was a knock on the door after a while, and he said, "Come in."

Harry almost yelled, but quickly suppressed it.Voldemort walked in. His face was not like the one Harry had seen rising from the big stone cauldron two years ago, less snake-like, less red-eyed, less mask-like.

Dumbledore behind the table showed no surprise.The visit was apparently by appointment.

"Good evening, Tom," said Dumbledore lightly, "sit down."

"Thank you," Voldemort said, sitting on the chair Dumbledore was pointing to - which looked to be the one Harry had just left. "I heard you're headmaster," said his voice a little higher and cooler than before, " Honorable choice."

"I'm glad you agree." Dumbledore smiled. "May I buy you a drink?"

"Thanks a lot," said Voldemort, "I've come a long way."

Dumbledore stood up and walked briskly to the cabinet where the Pensieve now stood, but was then full of wine bottles.He handed Voldemort a glass of wine, poured himself a glass, and returned to his desk.

"So, Tom... what brought you here?"

Voldemort didn't answer right away, just sipped his wine.

"They don't call me 'Tom' anymore, I'm called—"

"I know what you're called," said Dumbledore with a pleasant smile, "but to me you'll probably always be Tom Riddle. That's probably one of the annoying things about being a teacher, they never It will completely forget the situation of the students."

He raised his glass as if to toast Voldemort.Voldemort remained expressionless.But Harry felt a subtle change in the atmosphere in the room: Dumbledore's refusal to use Voldemort's chosen title was a refusal to let Voldemort dominate the conversation.Harry could see that Voldemort felt it too.

"I'm surprised you've been here so long," said Voldemort, after a moment's pause. "I've always wondered how a wizard like you never wants to leave the school."

"Oh," said Dumbledore, still smiling, "there is nothing more important to a wizard like me than to teach ancient arts and train young minds. If I remember correctly, you have also seen the teaching profession Appeal."

"I can still see it now," said Voldemort, "I just wonder why you - someone who is often consulted by the Ministry of Magic and seems to have been nominated twice as Minister for Magic -"

"Three times actually, but a Ministry career never appealed to me. It's something we have in common, I think."

Voldemort lowered his head without smiling, and took another sip of his wine.Dumbledore did not break the silence between the two, but waited for Voldemort to speak first with a happy expression.

"I'm back," he said after a moment, "perhaps a little later than Professor Dippett expected... but to reapply for the position he said I was too young for. I Come to ask you to allow me to return to this castle to teach, you must know that I have seen and done a lot since I left here, and I can teach your students things that cannot be learned from other wizards."

Dumbledore looked at Voldemort over his glass for a moment before speaking.

"Yes, I know you've seen and done a lot since you left us," he said quietly. "Rumors of what you've done have reached your alma mater, Tom. If they're even half believable, I It will be very regrettable.”

Still expressionless, Voldemort said, "Greatness breeds envy, envy breeds malice, and malice breeds lies. You must understand that, Dumbledore."

"You call what you do 'great,' don't you?" Dumbledore asked gracefully.

"Of course," said Voldemort, his eyes seeming to be burning red, "I have experimented and may have advanced magic to unprecedented levels—"

"There are certain kinds of magic," Dumbledore corrected him calmly, "some. But about others you are still...with all due respect...pathetic ignorance."

Voldemort laughed for the first time, it was a contemptuous sneer, an evil expression, more terrifying than rage.

"Old argument," he said softly, "but, Dumbledore, there is nothing in the world that I have seen that bears out your famous claim that love is stronger than my kind of magic."

"Maybe you're looking in the wrong place," Dumbledore reminded.

"So, where better to start my new studies than here—Hogwarts?" said Voldemort. "Will you let me come back? Will you let me share what I have learned with your students?" Is it? I entrust myself and my talents to you, at your command."

Dumbledore raised an eyebrow.

"What about the people at your command? What about the people who call themselves—or are said to call themselves—Death Eaters?"

Harry saw that Voldemort hadn't expected Dumbledore to know the name: he saw Voldemort's eyes glow red again, and his slit-like nostrils dilated.

"My friends," he said after a moment's pause, "they'll go on without me, I'm sure."

"I'm glad to hear you call them friends," said Dumbledore. "I thought they were more like servants."

"You are wrong," said Voldemort.

"Well, if I go to the Hog's Head tonight, I won't find that group - Knott, Rozier, Mulciber, Dolohov - waiting for you to go back? What a loyal friend, I have traveled so far with you in the snowy night just to wish you a teaching position."

Voldemort was no doubt annoyed that Dumbledore knew so much about his entourage, but he calmed down almost immediately.

"You still know everything, Dumbledore."

"Oh, no, it's just a good relationship with the local bartender." Dumbledore said lightly, "Now, Tom..."

Dumbledore put down the empty glass and sat up straight, touching his fingertips, which was his usual position.

"...Let's talk about it, why did you bring your men here tonight to apply for a job that you and I both know you don't want?"

Voldemort looked coldly surprised.

"A job I don't want? On the contrary, Dumbledore, I want it badly."

"Oh, you want to go back to Hogwarts, but you don't really want to teach any more than you do. What do you want, Tom? Why can't you just be honest?"

Voldemort sneered.

"If you don't want to give me a job—"

"Of course not," said Dumbledore, "and I don't think you expected me to give it to you. But you came anyway, you made an application, and you must have something in mind."

Voldemort stood up, scowling, looking less like Tom than ever.Riddle.

"Is this your final decision?"

"Yes?" Dumbledore also stood up.

"Then we have nothing to talk about."

"No," said Dumbledore, with deep sorrow on his face. "The time is past when I could frighten you with a burning wardrobe and force you to atone. But I wish I could, Tom ... I wish I could ... "

For a moment, Harry was on the verge of shouting a useless warning, convinced that Voldemort's hand had suddenly moved to the wand in his pocket... but the moment was over, Voldemort had turned and walked away, the door was closing, and he was gone.

Harry felt Dumbledore's hand grab his arm again, and after a while they were in almost the same spot, but there was no snow outside on the windowsill, and Dumbledore's hand was scorched again.

"Why?" asked Harry immediately, looking up into Dumbledore's face. "Why did he come back? Have you figured it out?"

"I have some ideas, but only ideas."

"What thoughts, sir?"

"I'll tell you when you get hold of Professor Slughorn's memory, Harry," said Dumbledore.

Although Harry was still full of curiosity, he also knew that he should go, and he should go to get the most important memory.

"Wait, Harry." Skool said suddenly when Harry stood up and was about to go out the door. Harry stopped in his tracks and looked at Skool.

"I want to tell you one thing in advance. During the Easter holiday, you need to go to Privet Drive with us."

"why?"

"Because you need to move out of Privet Drive, outright out, into the Burrow."

There was a look of joy and pleasure on Harry's face.

The author has something to say:

Update a chapter.

By the way, I have an idea about where Fanny should end up.Anyway, if you plan to write about the Chinese wizarding world, then you might as well write another short story when the time comes.Write about Fanny's encounter with a Chinese wizard.

I think it's pretty good, haha.