Chapter 533 Weird Locket

The underground kitchen had been vacant for many years and had only recently been cleaned out. The firewood in the fireplace was emitting negligible light and heat. The lights were still bright. The room was old but tidy. At the same time, in front of the three Lorens, the long A cold and ominous black mist was released on the table, as thick as ink, spreading continuously and swallowing the light.

Three figures slowly walked out of the black mist. Different from those lifeless magical portraits, and different from the ghosts whose figures were illusory and transparent, the three figures were lifelike, with every inch of skin having detailed textures, blinking and turning, and vivid. Smart, except for the black smoke floating on his body, the rest is no different from a real person.

Even more exquisite and handsome, so beautiful that it seems unreal.

The person on the right is exactly the same as Principal Dumbledore, with silver beard and hair, but his body is stronger, his nose is straight instead of crooked, his blue eyes are bright and shining, and he is wearing a rough cloth robe with linen stained with various stains around his body. The apron is different from the principal's usual gentle and amiable temperament.

In the middle is a slender girl, wearing a light blue satin dress, with slightly dry blond hair, a slightly sickly face, but very smart and endearing eyes.

On the left is a body that is so thin that only a skeleton is left, with sparse and fallen hair. Maybe he was very handsome when he was young, but now he is just an old and weak old man, with almost all his teeth, and his cloudy eyes are sunk in the sockets.

The faces of the three people gave Loren a strange feeling. He knew that the figures of these three people were excavated from the depths of Dumbledore's mind by Horcruxes. This feeling became clearer and clearer. He had already vaguely guessed the faces of the three people. identity.

"I haven't seen you for how many years..."

The old man who was so thin that he only had a skeleton said softly. He raised his head with a smile, but his eyes seemed to pass through the obstacles of countless spaces, "Albus, look at you, you are still so beautiful, just like when you were young. Look again. I, this body has aged beyond recognition and is so ugly that I even hate myself. No wonder you don’t want to look at me more..."

They were talking about reminiscing about old times, but Loren and Hermione felt a little awkward. They felt a chill from the old man's smile and voice, and they shrank their necks and looked at Dumbledore.

"You are atoning for your sins, Gellert, for the blood stained on the tip of your wand, for the countless sins you have committed..." Dumbledore's blue eyes were particularly deep, and his voice was like a breeze, unhurried and unhurried, Speak slowly.

"So I was imprisoned by you in Nurmengard..."

The thin old man nodded slightly, "After being tortured and humiliated, wind and rain often hit the tower, cold and hunger always tortured every bone of this body to moan unbearably, and I dreamed about it at midnight. I often wonder who agreed with my unrealistic fantasies when I was young and encouraged me to risk everything for the greater good... Was it you, Albus? "

Dumbledore listened quietly to the words of the black fog figure. He slowly closed his eyes and then opened them. Other than that, there was no other violent reaction, as if his heart had calmed down forever: "I think so, But after I woke up, I tried to save you...but it was too late by then, so I was willing to atone for it. "

"Tsk..." The thin old man laughed softly, seemingly unconvinced.

"Did my death wake you up, brother?"

The girl in the middle wearing a blue dress whispered something, tilted her head, blinked her smart eyes, and looked at him with wet eyes, like a wounded cub, pitiful, "Arianna wants to travel with you, You promised me, take me with you, go where you plan to go, go to places you haven't been on your graduation trip, make those smart speeches of yours, have you forgotten, Ariana is your first follower ”

Dumbledore's eyes were slightly red, his nose was trembling slightly, his breathing became unsmooth, and his originally upright body seemed a little rickety.

It was obvious that the old headmaster was in a state of distress. Loren and Hermione tried their best to reduce their presence, but they were worried about him.

Although Hermione didn't know the whole story, she guessed part of it and reminded in a low voice: "Headmaster, this is fake. This is all an illusion created by the Horcrux."

Dumbledore blinked heavily, exhaled slowly, and said bitterly: "I know, I know..."

It just didn't explain what he knew. Did he know that these were all illusions created by the Horcruxes? Or did he know what Ariana said...

Loren quietly tightened his grip on the wand. There was something wrong with Dumbledore's current state. Previously, he could remain calm and unmoved when facing Gellert Grindelwald's phantom, but now he was disturbed by Ariana's phantom. and reason.

"There's only one thing I have to say."

The man in a rough cloth robe on the right had a low voice. The expression on his face that was very similar to Dumbledore was ferocious and vicious, and the flames of hatred were floating in his blue eyes, as if he wanted to burn out everything in front of him, "That night I See it with your own eyes, see it with your own eyes, see it hit Ariana!"

"No matter whose spell it is, I am willing to bear the mistake." Dumbledore said softly, "I have always had this idea..."

"Hypocritical, an excuse to comfort yourself!" "Grindelwald" sneered, his body swaying in the black mist, his eyes glowing red, "You have the memory of that day, your pensieve can clearly emerge Why did you see what happened that day with your own eyes! You knew you had killed your sister, the burden that was dragging you down, and the sick cat who trapped your outstanding talents in Godric's Hollow!"

"It was your spell that hit me, brother, I feel so much pain, my body hurts so much, my heart hurts so much..." "Arianna"'s voice became hoarse and sinister, and her hair spun like flames. Flying, the sharp gaze seemed to pierce the man's chest.

"I saw it with my own eyes, it's you, it's you! That's why I don't want to see you. For so many years, I haven't been willing to send you even a greeting card even on Christmas..." "Aberforth" shouted in a deep voice. .

The voices of the three people mixed together and intertwined into a vicious trio, like the neighing of a wailing banshee, or the sound of some kind of snake violently exhaling and trembling in its throat.

The shock makes one's eardrums tighten and the heart beat uneasily.

Loren and Hermione's hearts were raised. The black mist expanded wantonly with the sound, and the cold and ominous breath spread, as if it was going to swallow up the old principal in front of them, and use his majestic magic power to nourish the remaining souls in their bodies. Become the nourishment for rebirth.

A glint of crystal water flashed quickly in Dumbledore's eyes. The next moment, a blazing red light floated, and a painful roar suddenly came from the source of the black mist. The figures of the three people gradually deformed in the firelight, and their figures were lengthened and twisted. It was torn apart and turned into little bits of black mist.

With a crisp cracking sound, the black fog suddenly dissipated, the locket jingled on the table, and the two closed small windows hung feebly to both sides.

It wasn't until the light returned to the underground kitchen that Hermione, who had been nervous for a long time, breathed a sigh of relief. The words she just said were still in her mind, and each sentence was extremely clear. Combined with what she had learned about the principal's past, she could easily piece it together. The whole story.

She looked at Dumbledore with some worry: "Just... those... principals, are you okay?"

"It's okay, I just delayed observing Slytherin's magic for a while..."

"What?"

Dumbledore spoke softly, but his tone was weak and tired, "Salazar Slytherin once left the magic he studied in a locket. It seemed that he wanted to observe someone through the locket, maybe for investigation. In short, the magic in the box can directly touch the deepest and most original place of the soul..."

Loren glanced at the old principal and felt that he didn't want to talk too much about the three figures just now and what those figures said, so he changed the topic.

"What do you mean?" Hermione didn't quite understand.

"The magic that currently exists about the brain and soul is very crude, such as the Imperius Curse, Legilimency, Oblivion Curse, False Memory Curse, and Occlumency..."

Dumbledore took a few steps forward and opened the locket to check. The original two eyeballs had been burned to ashes. "Essentially, they only touch the soul superficially. The Forgetting Curse and the False Memory Curse will be affected by powerful magic." The wizard can break the soul-stealing curse and break free of its shackles by will..."

"And the magic left by Slytherin can directly touch the depths of the soul. Unfortunately, Tom doesn't know how to use this power at all. He can only use it crudely to reflect the target's fear, trying to rely on fear to gain power."

Dumbledore took out his two eyes and carefully looked at the magic text on the inner wall of the locket's small window. "This is the small window of the locket, and it is also the window of the human heart. It allows people to look directly into their hearts and discover those things." Love, courage, wisdom, kindness, or dreams that I cannot detect...in short, it could have exerted infinite power."

"Like the Sorting Hat?"

Hermione's words made Loren's heart stir, and some bizarre speculations flashed through his mind.

"Infinitely more powerful than the House Hat..." Dumbledore shook his head and sighed regretfully, "It's a pity..."

Loren lowered his head and looked at the locket. A black scorch mark was burned out at the center of the inner wall of the small window, and a tiny crack opened up. There were flickering lights and shadows in the crack, as if they were hidden in magic words and The magic power in the material is quickly dissipating. The emeralds inlaid on the snake-shaped pattern have long since become dull. The mysterious and noble aura on it has disappeared without a trace at some point, leaving only simplicity and obsolescence.

Just when Loren was feeling sorry for it, the emeralds in the eyes of the snake-shaped pattern suddenly flashed, as if reflecting the candlelight hanging high on the ceiling, but Loren's shadow completely covered the locket, no matter what There might have been reflections, but he clearly saw the snake blinking at him.

Loren immediately looked at Hermione and Dumbledore on the left and right, but found that they were still looking down at the locket, seemingly not noticing anything strange. Hermione turned her head slightly and looked at him with some confusion:

"Did you find anything?"

Loren was silent for a moment, shook his head without saying anything, and turned his attention back to the damaged Slytherin locket. He stared at the dull gemstone snake pattern for a few seconds to confirm that there were really no snake eyes. If there were any other abnormalities, he looked at the magic text that could still be discerned on the inner wall of the small window.

The shape of the locket is not too big, and there are not many magic words engraved on it. I can see a lot of them at a glance. Most of them are lost magic words with no clear meaning, mixed with a few clear words. Now using the magic text, it is impossible to deduce the refining of the reproduced locket.

Perhaps spending a lot of time studying the magic text, there is a slim hope.

"Principal, can this destroyed Horcrux stay with me? I want to study the magic runes on it." Loren asked in a low voice as he watched the light in the gap gradually dim.

Dumbledore glanced at him and nodded slightly: "Of course, only these magic runes are valuable on this broken locket."

Loren grinned, squinted his eyes and asked: "The locket is destroyed, the diary has been destroyed long ago... Principal Dumbledore, should we destroy the other Horcruxes we have now?"

This child seems a little greedy. Dumbledore smiled helplessly: "Destroying the Horcruxes means destroying these items passed down by the founders of Hogwarts. It's not the last time yet..."

"Can we confirm how many Horcruxes Voldemort has made?" Hermione asked in a low voice.

"Members of the Order of the Phoenix and I are investigating this matter from many aspects, but we only have clues and cannot confirm the situation..." The familiar face of an old friend appeared in Dumbledore's blue eyes, and he silently moved up the plan of visiting a little.

"By the way, the long-delayed birthday present has not been given to you yet..."

The doors and windows were closed, and the old man with white hair was hung upside down in the air. His fluffy beard fell backwards due to gravity, swaying and covering his face that was reddened by congestion. His arms were tied tightly behind his back.

There were countless wands neatly arranged on the wooden rack in the room. As one of the three major wand makers in Europe, Gregorovitch clearly understood the characteristics of each wand: the blackthorn wood was powerful and suitable for duels, the cedar wood was perceptive and sensitive, and could detect danger before it came, and the dogwood wand was naughty and naughty, but could perform exceptionally in dangerous situations and was suitable for escaping from desperate situations...

But now the most suitable one for him was the despised cypress wand, because the owner of the cypress wand always died gloriously.

Not far ahead, a lady with a silver-white slender metal palm held a wand with exquisite craftsmanship and exquisite materials. Gregorovitch easily recognized that it came from another master who was as famous as him.

Damn Ollivander, you've caused me so much trouble...

Gregorovitch cried out in fear: "I don't have it, I don't have it anymore! It was stolen many years ago! It's really not with me..."

"Don't lie to me, Gregorovitch..."

"I can hand over my memory, you can tell the truth from the false just by looking at it!"