Chapter 1,167

"I don't think so," said a sarcastic voice; Phineas Nigellus had obviously been pretending to sleep.

Dumbledore ignored him. "Now, Harry, I must stick to our lesson. I have something more important to discuss with you tonight."

Harry sat defiantly. What if he refuses to change the subject? What if he persisted in arguing about the Malfoy incident?

However, Dumbledore shook his head, as if he had read his thoughts.

In fact, Harry's resistance was a little too obvious, and he clung to Snape stubbornly. This was very natural in Harry's mind.

Moreover, this time he also got a Malfoy?

If you think about it with your toes, nothing good will happen if they get together for two months at such a critical period.

The Dark Lord?

That's what a Death Eater is called.

Compared to this, Harry is more inclined to think that Voldemort is a hairless pig.

Well...

Maybe a little leaner, but he's definitely hairless.

"Ah, Harry, how often it happens, even between the best of friends! Everyone believes that what they have to say is far more important than the other person's!"

"I don't think what you have to say is unimportant, Professor," Harry said stiffly, "We are discussing a problem now."

"Oh, but that's not a problem in my opinion." Dumbledore said nonchalantly.

"But...but Malfoy is very likely..."

"What's most likely?" Dumbledore narrowed his eyes and looked at Harry with a smile.

"I mean, Malfoy...he..." Harry opened his mouth. Could it be that he was telling Dumbledore their inference that Malfoy wanted to kill Dumbledore?

In front of Dumbledore?

But Dumbledore looks so...

Did Dumbledore think he was crazy?

Harry himself felt like he was going crazy.

Malfoy, no matter how you look at this name, there is no way to equate it with Dumbledore. Whether it is Harry or Fanlin, even if he is given decades...

Oh, Fanlin may not be able to use it for so long. He has the Philosopher's Stone, and it doesn't seem to be too difficult simply in terms of magic power. However, it is obviously impossible to face Dumbledore in the face of hard steel.

What conspiracy is Malfoy planning?

"So, what do you want to say about... Mr. Malfoy." Dumbledore looked at Harry calmly.

"I mean..." Harry took a deep breath, "It's very possible that Malfoy is doing something that will endanger Hogwarts, and even you."

"Endangering Hogwarts? Or me?" Dumbledore repeated briefly. Harry felt that his head might have been caught in the door when he came in, but at this moment Harry could only bite the bullet... .

"Oh, well, this is indeed an interesting thing." Dumbledore paused and looked at Harry.

"Oh, I'm not kidding..." Harry was a little crazy. No matter how he looked at it, this incident was not enough to make Dumbledore alert...

"Of course, I'm not kidding, am I, Harry?" Dumbledore smiled, "Anyway, I think I should thank you for the reminder, Harry."

Dumbledore took out another small crystal bottle from his inner pocket, and Harry immediately became quiet. He remembered that Dumbledore said that this was the most important memory he had collected.

"So, I think we can start today's teaching, right? Of course, I haven't determined the next section yet. There are still many important things waiting for us to do, right? Just give us more and more time. Less, Harry."

Harry was completely quiet. Although Dumbledore's previous attitude made him unhappy, in fact, up to now, Harry was still very unhappy, but it didn't matter now.

Dumbledore moved very slowly, as if he was afraid that he would confuse this memory.

Harry noticed that the memories were not easy to pour into the pensieve. They seemed slightly viscous; could memories also deteriorate?

"This one won't take long," Dumbledore finally emptied the bottle. "You'll be back in a blink of an eye. Then, let's go into the Pensieve again..."

Harry fell into the silver memory again, just like his previous experience, but the difference was that this time he happened to fall in front of a person, and Harry recognized him immediately. In front of him was Horace Slughorn, who was much younger than he is now.

Harry was used to his baldness, so he was quite dismayed to see Slughorn grow a shiny, thick head of straw-colored hair; it looked like he had a thatch over his head, but A shiny area has also appeared above his head, about the size of a gold galleon.

His beard was ginger, not as much as now. Compared with the Slughorn that Harry knew well, he was not that fat, but the golden buttons on the embroidered waistcoat were also quite tight. His little feet were resting on a small stool covered with velvet cushions, and his body was leaning comfortably on a winged armchair, holding a small glass of wine in one hand and a box of pineapple preserves in the other. groping inside.

Dumbledore appeared next to Harry, and Harry looked around and found that they were standing in Slughorn's office. There were half a dozen boys sitting around Slughorn, all sitting on harder, shorter chairs. They all looked to be around fifteen years old.

Harry recognized Riddle immediately. He had the most handsome face and seemed the most relaxed. His right hand rested nonchalantly on the armrest; Harry was suddenly shocked to see that he was wearing Marvolo's gold ring set with black stone; it meant that he had killed his father.

"Professor, is Professor Melisot really going to retire?" Riddle asked.

"Tom, Tom, I couldn't tell you even if I knew," Slughorn shook a sugar-covered finger and winked at him, which lessened the effect of the reproach.

"I must say, I wonder how you get your information, kid; you're better informed than half the faculty."

Riddle smiled; the other boys smiled and gave him admiring glances.

"Considering your uncanny ability to find out things you're not supposed to know, and your thoughtful flattery of important people—and thank you for these pineapples, they are indeed my favorite—"

A few boys were chuckling when a strange thing happened. The whole room was suddenly filled with thick white fog, and Harry could see nothing but Dumbledore's face standing beside him.

Then Slughorn's words came out of the fog, unusually loud: "—You will be led astray, child, take my words to heart."

The fog disappeared as suddenly as it had appeared. No one mentioned it, and no one looked like they had experienced anything unusual. Harry looked around suspiciously. A small golden clock on Slughorn's desk was telling the time. It was already ten o'clock in the evening.

"Jesus, is it that late?" said Slughorn. "You'd better get back, kids, or we're all going to be in trouble. Lestrange, I want you to turn in your paper tomorrow, or you'll have to go to solitary. The same goes for you, Avery."

As the boys filed out, Slughorn stood up and put the empty cup on the desk. Riddle, however, stayed behind. Harry could tell that he was deliberately stalling for time, hoping to finally be alone in the house with Slughorn.

"Come on, Tom," said Slughorn, turning around and seeing that he was not leaving. "You don't want to be caught out of bed at a time like this, and you're a prefect..."

"Professor, I want to ask you something."

"Ask then, my child, ask..."

"Professor, do you know...about the soul fragment?"

Everything happened again: dense smoke enveloped the room, and Harry could not see Riddle and Slughorn at all; only Dumbledore beside him was smiling calmly at him. Then Slughorn's voice came out again, exactly the same as before.

"I don't know about the soul fragments, and even if I knew I wouldn't tell you! Go away before I catch you mentioning them again!"

The memory seemed to end here, which made Harry feel bad. Those thick fogs...those thick fogs covered everything.

"Well, that's all," Dumbledore said quietly beside Harry. "time to go."

Harry's feet left the ground, and a few seconds later they were back on the carpet in front of Dumbledore's desk.

"Is that all?" Harry said blankly. Dumbledore said that this was the most important memory, but he couldn't see its significance. There was no doubt that the fog was weird, and no one noticed it. Apart from these, nothing seemed to happen. Riddle just asked a question that was not answered.

"You may have noticed," Dumbledore sat back in the chair behind him, "that this memory has been tampered with."

"Tampered?" Harry repeated, sitting back.

"Of course," said Dumbledore, "Professor Slughorn interfered with his own memories."

"But why would he do this?"

"I think it was because he was ashamed of what he remembered," Dumbledore said. "He tried to rewrite the memory in order to make himself shine, erasing the parts he didn't want me to see. You must have noticed that the memory modification was very rough. This is good for us because it shows that the real memory is Hidden beneath those changes. "So, I'm going to give you homework for the first time, Harry. Your mission is to convince Professor Slughorn to reveal his true memory, which is undoubtedly a vital piece of information. "

Harry stared at him. "But of course, Professor," he said, keeping his voice as respectful as possible, "you don't need me - you can use Legilimency...or Veritaserum..."

"Professor Slughorn was an extremely able wizard, and he must have expected both," said Dumbledore. "He is far more accomplished in Occlumency than poor Morfin Gaunt, and if he doesn't carry the antidote to Veritaserum with him after I forced this distorted memory, then I would be very surprised.

"Yes, I think trying to wrest the truth from Professor Slughorn is foolish and would do more harm than good; I don't want him to leave Hogwarts. However, he has his own weaknesses just like the rest of us. , I believe you are the one who can break through his defenses. Obtaining that real memory is the most important thing, Harry... How important it is, we can only know after seeing the real thing. So, I wish you well. Good luck...good night."

Harry was a little surprised by the sudden end of get out of class and stood up quickly.

"Good night, Professor."

...

"He's very smart, isn't he?" Dumbledore said suddenly, watching Harry go out from the door, everything seemed to be calm again.

"Maybe..." a gloomy voice suddenly sounded from the balcony, "I don't have any comment on this, principal."

"You hate him, Severus, don't you?" Dumbledore looked calmly at the man who suddenly appeared in the principal's office, Severus Snape...a man who focused on ridiculing Harry about the devil. A man with a pharmaceutical career.

Defense Against the Dark Arts was just a slightly failed transformation.

"In a sense, yes, Mr. Headmaster." Snape said coldly. It was hard to tell what Snape's attitude was towards Dumbledore.

Could it be said, respect?

Oh, maybe a little bit, but it's very limited, isn't it? Snape respected Voldemort more than Dumbledore. Even if he turned against him in battle, it was just an accident.

"In a sense." Dumbledore seemed to have heard interesting news, "This makes me curious, Severus, so do you still have a side that hates him?"

"So far, I haven't noticed it, but you always have to keep a chance. This is what you taught us, isn't it?"

"Oh, keep a chance, yes, that's the case, Severus, it seems that you have changed a lot over the years, and as teachers and students, it seems that we haven't had a good... conversation?"

"In fact, Professor..." Snape grinned. This sentence came out of his mouth very strangely. How many years had it been since he called someone so briefly as Professor?

ten years? Twenty years? Thirty years?

Oh, forty years may be a bit too long, but in fact, after leaving Hogwarts and joining the Death Eater Legion, it seems that such a title has been far away from him.

What a long-lost title...

In the Death Eater Legion, he has always been respected, and he only needs to respect one person.

Death Eaters are so realistic. As long as you have the ability and are strong enough, except for your master, others don't need to care at all.

A man favored by Tom Riddle, or a man who respectfully calls him the Dark Lord.

To be honest, this is a bit half-hearted, and Tom Riddle also abandoned his Muggle name and called himself Voldemort.

Am I Voldemort?

A simple letter conversion turned an evil middle-aged boy into an old yin...

Well, it seems inappropriate. It's just like a hairless pig. These are facts, but there are some uncontrollable factors in the depiction.

To put it simply, although Voldemort did not satisfy Snape in some aspects, in fact, doing things under Voldemort was more indulgent, and it was simple and fast enough. If something happened, just rush over. If that doesn't work, call more people to go there together?

This is different from Dumbledore. Although he is kind on the surface, in fact, Dumbledore is also quite... or should I say cold?

A genuine calculation, and it just so happens that Snape is not bad at this aspect... In fact, no matter which side, Snape has enough capital to survive, and, if you think about it, he can survive. Pretty good? (To be continued)