Chapter 1,177

"That," Harry paused, not knowing what to say next.

Dumbledore's question made him a little embarrassed. He didn't seriously think of ways to retrieve the memory. He only tried it. Then, Slughorn wisely rejected Harry. This result did not make Harry feel. Unexpected, but facing Dumbledore...

"Well, that day Fan Lin and I found out that Ron had taken the love potion by mistake, and then I sent him to Professor Slughorn. I originally thought that if I could make Professor Slughorn feel happy, ..."

"So...did it work?" Dumbledore asked flatly.

"Uh... Well, no, Professor, because Ron was poisoned..." Harry opened his mouth. It was obviously not appropriate to lie or something like that, especially in front of Dumbledore.

Strictly speaking, Dumbledore had great expectations for him, but it was destined that nothing good would come of it.

"...So, naturally, you completely forgot about retrieving memories; but when your best friend is in danger, I shouldn't expect you to think about anything else. But once Mr. Weasley has nothing When the serious illness is expected to be cured, I think it is time for you to go back and complete the task I gave you. I believe I have explained to you the importance of this memory. In fact, I tried my best to make you understand it. The most crucial of all memories, without which we would waste time."

A searing, stinging feeling of shame shot through Harry's head and throughout his body. Dumbledore didn't raise his voice, and there was no hint of anger in his voice, but Harry would rather hear him yelling at him; the cold regret was worse than anything else.

"Sorry, Professor," Harry said, struggling a little, "I wasn't at peace or anything, I just had other—other things…"

"Something else worries you," Dumbledore said, letting him go. "I understand." Silence fell between the three of them again. This was the most uncomfortable silence Harry had ever received from Dumbledore; it seemed to be endless, occasionally interspersed with soft snores. It came from the portrait of Armando Dippet above Dumbledore's head.

Suddenly Harry had a strange feeling of shrinking, as if he had become shorter since entering the house. He couldn't stand it anymore and said, "Professor Dumbledore, I'm really sorry. I should have done more - I should have thought that you wouldn't let me do it if it wasn't important."

"Harry, thank you for saying that." Dumbledore said calmly. "Then I hope you will make this a top priority from now on? After tonight, if we don't get this memory, we won't be able to do much."

"I will, Professor, I will take it from him," he replied eagerly.

"Then let's not talk about it now," said Dumbledore more kindly, "and continue where we left off. Do you remember where we got to?"

"Yes, Professor," Harry said quickly, and then glanced at Fan Lin. Fan Lin was not there last time, and Harry felt that he needed to explain.

"Voldemort killed his father and grandfather, and made it look like his uncle Morfin had done it. And then he came back to Hogwarts, and he asked—he asked Slughorn about the soul fragment." Harry Grunting in shame.

"Very well," said Dumbledore. "So, I hope you remember, I said at the beginning of our course that we were going to be doing a lot of speculative thinking?"

"Yes, sir."

"So now, I think you agree, I have shown you detailed and reliable evidence to speculate on what Voldemort did before he was seven years old?" Harry nodded.

"But now, Harry," said Dumbledore. "Things are getting even weirder now. If gathering clues about the boy Riddle is difficult, finding memories of Voldemort is next to impossible. In fact, I doubt anyone but himself will be able to tell us about his departure. What have I done since Hogwarts? However, I still have two final memories to share with you."

Dumbledore was talking about the two glowing crystal bottles beside the pensieve. "I would like to hear your opinion on whether I have drawn the correct inferences about them."

Thinking that Dumbledore valued his opinion so much, Harry felt ashamed that he had not completed the process of extracting the memory about the soul fragment. He moved in his chair with a sense of guilt and watched Dumbledore lift the first one. Bottles inspected under light.

"I hope you don't get tired of stepping into other people's memories, because both are really interesting," he said. "The first one is from a very old house elf named Hao Qi. Before we read Hao Qi's memory, I am going to quickly describe for you how Voldemort left Hogwarts."

"He was promoted to the seventh grade. Perhaps you have expected that he got the highest score in every exam. What he and his classmates were concerned about at this time was what career they would pursue after graduating from school. Almost everyone was optimistic about Tom # 8;Riddle - this student leader, male prefect and recipient of the school's special contribution award. As far as I know, some professors, including Professor Slughorn, encouraged him to join the Ministry of Magic and provided him with opportunities. Interview opportunities, help him contact the relevant internal officials. The next thing the teachers learned was that he was working at Bojinbok Magic Store.

"Bogin Bork?" Harry repeated dazedly.

"Yes, there it is," Dumbledore said quietly. "I believe that when we walk into Hao Qi's memories, you should be able to understand why this place attracted him. But this was not Voldemort's first choice for a career. Almost no one knew this at the time - I could be trusted by the headmaster at the time. One of the few people, Voldemort first went to Professor Dippet to ask if he could stay in school as a teacher. "

"Does he want to stay?" Fan Lin asked in surprise, "Defense Against the Dark Arts?"

"I believe he has his own reasons, but he did not reveal it to Professor Dippet." Dumbledore nodded. "First of all, and very importantly, Voldemort values ​​this school more than his original admiration for being alone. Hogwarts is the happiest place he has ever been, the first and only place where he feels like home. "

Harry felt a little uncomfortable with those words because that was how he felt about Hogwarts as well.

"Secondly, the castle is full of ancient magic. There is no doubt that Voldemort discovered more of the castle's secrets than most of the other students who lived there, but he may have thought that there were still many secrets to be discovered, There's a lot of magic to be found."

"Thirdly, as a teacher, he can have more power to influence and manipulate the young wizards and witches. Perhaps he was inspired by Professor Slughorn, where he was favored and watched as he showed How influential a professor can be. I don't think Voldemort intended to stay at Hogwarts for the rest of his life, but I believe he saw it as a recruiting camp, a place where he could build his own army."

"So, you refused? Or Professor Dippet?"

"Yes, he didn't get it. Professor Dippet thought he was only eighteen years old, which was too young." Dumbledore said. "I once advised Armando to cancel that meeting...I didn't explain the reasons I told you at the time, because Professor Dippet liked Voldemort very much and believed in his loyalty. But I didn't want Voldemort to return to this school, I especially don't want to see him get such an influential position."

"Defense Against the Dark Arts." Everyone knew the answer.

If other subjects at Hogwarts teach people how to live a better life, then Defense Against the Dark Arts teaches people how to survive.

Fanlin knows very well the importance of Defense Against the Dark Arts, or in other words, every wizard...

Otherwise, when Umbridge stationed at Hogwarts, she would not have chosen Defense Against the Dark Arts. Although there was only a vacancy in Defense Against the Dark Arts at that time, with the capabilities of the Ministry of Magic, she could have chosen other subjects. .

The basis for wizards' survival is magic.

"Yes, the Defense Against the Dark Arts class. It was taught by an old professor named Galati Merisaut. He had been working at Hogwarts for almost fifty years."

"Later Voldemort went to Borgin Burke Magic Shop. At that time, all the teachers who liked him felt it was a pity that such a young and promising wizard actually went to work in the shop. But no matter what, Voldemort would not be just a little boy. As a young clerk, he was polite, handsome and smart, and he was soon entrusted with important tasks. He was responsible for finding very special things that only stores like Bojin Bock could have, which you should know. Something with unusually powerful magic. Voldemort was sent out to convince people to part with their treasures and have the stores sell them on their behalf - and he was quite talented at it."

"I bet he has it," Harry said, unable to restrain himself.

"Yes, very much." Dumbledore smiled faintly. "Now, let's hear what the house elf Hodge has to say. She works for a very old and very wealthy witch named Hepzibah Smith."

Dumbledore tapped a bottle with his wand and the cork flew out. He poured the swirling memories into the pensieve and said as usual: "You go first, Harry."

Harry stood up, leaned over the rippling silver substance in the stone basin again, and buried his face in it.

"Professor..." Fan Lin hesitated, "Are you still planning to let Harry discover that the soul fragments are Horcruxes?"

"Of course." Dumbledore nodded, "This is very useful. We can't do everything for Harry. Moreover, we must use Harry to determine how many Horcruxes there are. This is Harry and Voldemort. A place where hearts connect."

Fan Lin silently recited the names of all the Horcruxes, including Harry. The only thing missing now was what Voldemort would use as his new Horcrux reserve after he recklessly killed Nagini.

Suddenly, Fan Lin had a bad premonition.

The current Voldemort is not what he remembers. He has more contact and has more control, so he has more rights to choose...

"Sorry, professor, although I don't intend to disturb your enjoyment, but these memories... it is difficult for me to have any effect anymore." Fan Lin shook his head.

"But it's useful to Harry, and that's enough." Dumbledore said slowly, "Let's go."

Fan Lin nodded and immersed his spirit into the pensieve.

He had to admit that the pensieve was indeed a good place. His whole spirit was wrapped in coldness, as if he was emptied out, and his brain was surprisingly calm.

Fan Lin spun and fell in the black void, and then landed in a living room. In front of him was a very fat old lady, wearing a yellow wig and a fluttering bright pink robe. She looked like A pile of melting ice cream cakes.

She was dressing up in front of a small jeweled mirror, applying rouge to her already red face with a huge powder puff, while the driest and oldest house elf Harry had ever seen was tightening her fat feet. Nice satin slippers.

"Hurry up, Hao Qi!" Hepziba said imperiously. "He said he would be arriving at four o'clock, and it was only a few minutes later. He is never late!"

She put away her powder puff, and the house elf straightened up, almost touching Hepzibah's chair. Her wrinkled skin hung from the frame, like the old brittle linen sheets she wore, hanging down like a robe.

"How do I look?" Hepzibah asked, admiring herself in the mirror from all angles.

"It's a bit bad." Fan Lin complained.

"Lovely, ma'am." Hao Qi replied sharply.

If it was Kreacher or Dobby, he would definitely not answer like this. Fanlin could only guess that there was a clause in Hao Qi's contract that stipulated that she must lie to such questions, because Hepzibah Smith looked far from cute. It's quite a big piece.

Fan Lin raised his head, and Harry was on the sofa not far away. Judging from Harry's expression, it felt like he had poured a big mouthful of white sugar into his mouth.

There is no sweetness at all. Apart from the taste bud stimulation that makes you doubt your life, there is only a feeling of vomiting.

Fanlin thinks this is very appropriate.

And the poor elf repeats this story every day.

Sure enough, the psychological problems of house elves cannot be ignored. Perhaps Fanlin can give Hermione some appropriate suggestions in this regard.

Suddenly the doorbell rang, and the hostess and the house elf jumped up at the same time.

"Quick, quick, he's coming, Hao Qi!" Hepoziba screamed, she was a little shy, which seemed very inconsistent on Hepoziba's face.

Fanlin suddenly regretted that he should reject Dumbledore's proposal. This was not a memory that made him happy. Anything else, even Gaunt's memory, was much better than this.

The house elf immediately ran out of the room. To be honest, there were so many things in this room that it was hard to believe that someone could pass through the room smoothly without knocking over a dozen things: cabinets full of lacquer boxes, stuffed Shelves of gilt-covered books, display racks of celestial orbs, and lush plants in copper pots—the whole room looked like a cross between an antique shop and a greenhouse.

The house elf returned a moment later, followed by a tall young man.

Fan Lin recognized him as Voldemort at first glance. He simply wore a black robe, his hair was a little longer than when he was at school, and his cheeks were thin, but all of this complemented him and made him look more handsome than before.

He navigated the crowded room with such skill that it was obvious he had been there many times before. Then he bent down and took Hepzibah's fat hand, touching it lightly with his lips.

"I brought you flowers, beautiful lady." He said elegantly, and then took out a bouquet of roses from nowhere. (To be continued)