"Yes, Harry, this is their usual method … I've been forced by them before …" Dumbledore tapped his finger on the table. "I'll warn them that ordinary students shouldn't be involved in these things, whether it's this time or the mystery man …"
Harry blurted out, "Professor … Why can't you join forces with Allen? That would be the biggest guarantee for the British magic world … The Death Eaters and Lord Voldemort wouldn't be worth mentioning at all. "
"Harry, please believe me, I've been working hard for this …" Dumbledore said calmly. "But unfortunately … Mr. Allen Harris and I are very stubborn on some issues …"
Harry's head drooped, his knuckles turning white as he held the cup.
"Harry, you're very upset. To be honest, I'm not in a better mood for things to turn out this way." Dumbledore put his fingers together, this was his habitual action.
"I don't understand, Professor, why can't you and Allen compromise with each other? You both want the magic world to become better." Harry shook his head. In front of Dumbledore and Allen, it was difficult for him to control his true emotions.
"Harry, the magic world is used to peace. The mystery man wants to see this peace destroyed, and Allen's radical education reform is detrimental to this peace …" Dumbledore's voice sounded tired. "Harry, what do your classmates think about this?"
"I don't know … Uh … I mean, everyone has their own opinions … For example, Neville is a pureblood, but he personally supports Allen. He thinks Allen is a smart person and makes wise decisions. But he told me that his grandmother has been very opposed to him learning black magic, and also opposed Allen teaching magic to others, but his grandmother refused the invitation of some pureblood families … Flaig is a Muggle, he's very willing to learn these spells and magic, but he's more resistant and afraid of black magic, he doesn't dare to learn it unscrupulously." Harry's eyes swept across Dumbledore's face, but the headmaster was still calm and kind. Harry continued, "… After Allen talked about the Ravenclaw Temple opening up the learning channel … many people under pressure from their families … I heard from Dean … Dean Thomas, his father kept sending letters to him to stay away from these things. His father is a wizard, his mother is a Muggle, and his father's boss is starting to put pressure on his employees … It's not just us, it's the same in Allen's class. Everyone is confused, but I think, just like Malfoy and some purebloods … most people in the school are more inclined to support Allen."
"For a large part of the wizard community, Professor Allen Harris's ideas are very tempting, and they'll be immersed in them … From the beginning, they'll only be inclined to support him, but they'll become more insistent and more immersed in the countless confrontations with different opinions … This will not only divide the students, it will also cause turmoil in Britain and even the entire magic world …" Dumbledore looked at Harry through his crescent-shaped glasses and asked, "Harry, you must be wondering why I, who have always been fighting for Muggle and mixed-blood wizards to get more power, would take a different stance on reforming education?"
"Yes, I don't quite understand, Professor." Harry heard Dumbledore's concern just now and understood a little, but he also felt more indescribable confusion as if he was in a fog.
"I'll show you a few memories as usual later … Harry, maybe you'll understand …" After snapping his fingers to refill Harry's drink automatically, Dumbledore said sternly, "Let's not worry about this now, we have more important things to talk about. Harry, have you finished the homework I gave you last time?"
"Ah," Harry suddenly remembered. Because of the Quidditch competition, Ron's poisoning, the phantom class, Allen's matter, Pency and Snape, plus the fact that Slughorn was on guard against him since the last time he interrogated him … Harry's heart sank when he heard Dumbledore's question. He turned his head away, not daring to look directly into Dumbledore's eyes. He looked at the meditation basin on the table and there were two crystal bottles next to the meditation basin. Inside were swirling memories.
Harry responded with a guilty conscience, "Professor, I've asked Professor Slughorn a few times, so much so that he doesn't want to talk to me anymore. He's very resistant to remembering that incident, so I can't get his memories. "
The principal's office was silent for a moment.
"Oh," Dumbledore stared at Harry from above his half-moon glasses, "So you've given up? I noticed that you've begun to spend all your energy on other things recently … "
"Uh." Harry was speechless. He didn't know what to say. Feeling a little ashamed, he found an excuse for himself. "Um … The day Ron mistakenly took the aphrodisiac, the reason why I brought him to Professor Slughorn was because I wanted to take the opportunity to have a chance with Professor Slughorn, who didn't want to talk to me anymore. I thought maybe …"
"Did you succeed?" Dumbledore asked.
"Mm, no, professor … You know, I even caused Ron to be poisoned …"
"… Of course, so you forgot about searching for your memories. I didn't expect any other reaction because your best friend was in danger … But, once you were sure that Mr. Weasley would completely recover, I thought you would go back to doing the homework I gave you … But you seemed to have started to worry about other things, such as your intimate relationship with Miss Weasley? … Harry … I've already explained to you how important that memory is. In fact, I've already tried my best to make you realize that it's the most important memory. Without it, we'll only be wasting time … "
A burning, needle-like sense of shame spread from the top of Harry's head to the rest of his body. Dumbledore didn't raise his voice, and there wasn't even any anger in his words, but Harry would rather he yelled. This kind of cold disappointment was more unbearable than anything else.
"Professor," Harry explained a little desperately, "It's not that I don't care, it's just that other … other things …"
"Other things are what you're worried about," Dumbledore finished for him. "I know."
The two fell silent again. This was the most awkward silence Harry had ever experienced beside Dumbledore. It seemed endless, only occasionally interrupted by the snoring of the portrait of Amando Dippet above Dumbledore's head.
Harry had a strange feeling of insignificance, as if he had shrunk after entering the room. He couldn't stand it anymore, so he said, "Professor Dumbledore, I'm really sorry … I should have known that if it wasn't so important, you wouldn't have asked me to do it … I promise I'll do it wholeheartedly in the future."
"I'm very grateful for this, Harry …" Dumbledore stroked his long beard and sighed as he looked at Harry's uncertain expression. "… Sometimes to succeed in achieving goals, we need more than just hard work, we also need some luck … Hmm … Harry, I think you can go to Professor Snape and ask him for some Elixir of Fortune. I'll tell Severus to cooperate with you …"
"Professor, don't bother Snape, I think … Oh, I mean don't bother Professor Snape …" Hearing Snape's name, Harry shook his head subconsciously and refused. Then he had a flash of inspiration and thought of his previous joking plan. "I think … I can borrow the Elixir of Fortune from Hermione. You know, in the first potions class this year, Professor Slughorn rewarded Hermione with a bottle of Elixir of Fortune. She probably won't use it usually …"
"So can I hope that you plan to bring this matter up on the agenda?" Dumbledore looked at Harry from his hooked nose.
"I will, Professor." Harry pursed his lips tightly. Although Dumbledore didn't have any words of criticism, this calm disappointment made his heart heavier.
"Then let's not talk about this now … Do you still remember our story last time, Harry?" Dumbledore's tone became more amiable. His hand swept across the meditation basin and memory bottle on the table. "These two memories are very precious because there are very few people who can provide us with memories of the adult Lord Voldemort … In fact, I once wondered if there was a living person other than himself who could tell us in detail about his life after he left Hogwarts."
"You may have already guessed it. He was promoted to the seventh grade with the best results in every exam. The students around him were all considering what career they wanted to pursue after graduation. Almost everyone thought that Tom Riddle would have amazing achievements. He was the prefect, the president of the student union, a top student, and had received the school's special award and the Merlin Medal. He was so charming that he was welcomed by most of the students and professors. He even led a small organization in the school that he established called the Knights of Walpurgis. Now, they are called Death Eaters …" Dumbledore skillfully finished talking about Voldemort's excellence and continued after taking a sip of his drink. "I know that several teachers, including Professor Slughorn, suggested that he enter the Ministry of Magic and were willing to take the initiative to introduce him, but he rejected them all … Later, the teachers learned that he went to work in the black magic shop called Borgin Burk."
This familiar description made Harry very uneasy. He changed the topic. "Borgin Burk?"
"I think you still remember what Tom revealed in the previous memories … Although the Gunter Family is old, it is no longer of any help to Tom. Born in an orphanage, if he wants to continue to gain knowledge after graduation, I think there is no better place for him than here … I regret that the Hogwarts did not hide a lot of dangerous knowledge …" Dumbledore picked up a small sparkling crystal bottle next to the meditation basin. He knocked the bottle with his wand and the cork flew out. He poured the swirling memory into the meditation basin. "This memory came from a very old house elf, her name is Hao Qi. Her owner is a very old and very rich witch, her name is Hepzibah Smith … After this incident, I managed to get Hao Qi's memory. "
Harry stood up, leaned close to the rippling silver substance in the stone basin and entered the memory.
In a lavishly decorated room, three candles were burning on a candlestick. The orange flame at the tip of the three candles was dancing happily. Harry found that his vision had become much shorter. He then realized that he was looking through the eyes of the house elf hidden in the corner.
"Thank you for the flowers you brought me … How did you know what my favorite type is? You've spoiled this old lady too much … "An old woman's voice sounded. Her tone was filled with indignation. She picked up the white teapot that had a delicate texture and luster. The tea that flowed out immediately turned from colorless to purplish red after being poured into the cup, emitting a dense mist.
"I've told you hundreds of times … The shop has been too harsh on you. Your face is so pale that it's abnormal … Just eat something …" A very plump old woman asked the house elf to put a plate of snacks in front of a young wizard. She wore a gorgeous red and purple robe and a delicate ginger wig on her head.
Harry guessed that she should be Mrs. Hepzibah Smith, the mistress of the house elf Hao Qi.
Hepzibah picked up the cup of tea and offered it to the young man sitting opposite her. "What's your excuse for coming to see this boring old woman?"
The young man took the teacup gracefully. He did not mind that the old woman took the opportunity to touch him. He just leaned back on the chair and raised his head. His smile was a little mechanical.
Harry realized that the young wizard was Lord Voldemort, who had graduated from Hogwarts. He was still Tom Marvolo Riddle. He looked a little different from the handsome president of the student union in the notebook that Harry had seen in the second-year secret room. He looked more mature and handsome. His well-groomed black hair was neatly combed to the right in a 30-70 split. His cheeks were sunken, but his facial features were more three-dimensional. He wore an indigo shirt with the buttons neatly fastened to his neck. He wore a dark green vest that fit his body. He looked like an old-school pure-blooded wizard.
You've already exceeded your reading limit for today. If you want to read more, please log in.
Login
Select text and click 'Report' to let us know about any bad translation.
