Who let this Dementor into Hogwarts!

Chapter 577 The Villain Obsessed with the Number 7

They entered the Pensieve again, in the same office, in the same Slughorn.

This time, however, there was no thick white fog that made it impossible to see anything.

"I believe you'll be Minister for Magic within twenty years, maybe even fifteen. If you keep sending me pineapple preserves, I have some strong connections in the ministry," Slughorn said to Riddle with a smile.

A few boys laughed, but they all followed behind Riddle as if he were their leader.

“I don’t know if politics is a good fit for me, sir,” Riddell said. “First of all, I have no connections.”

“That’s a lie, Edward has no connections either,” Cohen said.

“As his son, you are already the biggest factor,” Dumbledore said. “The Ministry of Magic cannot refuse someone who can control the Dementors as their leader.”

“What if he didn’t have those Dementors?” Cohen suddenly asked.

"After Edward became minister, everyone saw his shrewd and capable abilities, as well as his superb magical skills. Not everyone has the courage to confront Voldemort, let alone escape unscathed, not to mention that Voldemort had once been ambushed by Edward."

“That’s very prestigious.” Cohen raised an eyebrow.

At this moment, in my memory, Slughorn said cheerfully:

“What are you talking about? With your talent, it’s obvious that you come from a respectable wizarding family. You have a bright future, Tom. I’ve never misjudged a student.”

At that moment, the small gold clock on Slughorn's desk struck eleven.

"Good heavens, is it already time? We should go, kids, or we'll be in trouble..."

Slughorn urged the students to leave, exactly as he had described in the previous memory.

But what follows was not obscured by the fog.

"Hurry up, Tom, you don't want to get caught outside during lights out, do you? You're the prefect..."

"Sir, I'd like to ask you something."

"Then ask quickly, child, ask quickly..."

"Sir, I want to ask you if you know anything about... Horcruxes."

Hearing Riddle's question, Slughorn glared at him, his chubby fingers absentmindedly stroking the stem of the cup.

"The subject of Defense Against the Dark Arts, is that right?"

"No, sir, I read it in a book, but I don't quite understand it."

“Hmm…yes…it’s hard to find a book at Hogwarts that details Horcruxes, Tom, they’re very evil things, very evil,” Slughorn murmured.

“But you clearly know a lot about wizards, sir? I mean, wizards like you—excuse me, I mean, if you can’t tell me, obviously—I only know that if anyone could, it’s you—so I wanted to ask—”

Riddle said in a casual, almost obsequious tone that it was not an exaggeration at all.

This tactic was highly effective against Slughorn.

“Hmm.” Slughorn’s gaze fell on the ribbon on the pineapple candy box. “Of course… it won’t hurt to give you a brief introduction, just so you can understand the term. Horcruxes are objects that contain a part of a person’s soul.”

“But I don’t quite understand what’s going on, sir,” Riddle asked.

"That is to say, you split your soul in half, and hide one part in an object outside your body. That way, even if your body is attacked or destroyed, you will not die because a part of your soul remains unharmed in the world. But, of course, to exist in this way... very few people would want to do that, Tom, very few. It would be better to die quickly."

"How can one split the soul?" "Oh, you must understand, the soul should remain whole and intact. To split it is a violation, an unnatural act." Slughorn wanted to skip the topic.

"But how does it split?" Riddle asked, his curiosity piqued.

"Through evil acts—the most evil acts, through murder. Murder splits the soul, and sorcerers who wish to create Horcruxes exploit this destruction: sealing away the fragments of the soul—"

Riddle wanted to know more about the method and incantation used to seal it.

“Don’t ask me, I don’t know!” Slughorn shook his head. “Do I look like I’ve tried—do I look like a murderer?”

“No, sir, of course not,” Riddle quickly said. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you…”

“No, no, no offense,” Slughorn chuckled. “It’s normal to be curious about these things… talented wizards are always drawn to the magical side…”

“Yes, sir,” Riddle said. “But I don’t understand, of course, just out of curiosity. I want to ask… Is a Horcrux really that useful? Can a soul only be split once? Would it be better to split it into multiple pieces, making you more powerful? For example, isn’t seven the most magical number, seven—”

“My God, Tom!” Slughorn exclaimed, his eyes wide. “Seven! Isn’t wanting to kill one person evil enough?”

But Riddle had already gotten the answer he wanted.

He didn't receive a direct negative answer from Slughorn, but rather a condemnation.

This shows that the path is feasible, but it lacks morality.

Voldemort had absolutely no morals.

Back to reality, Harry took a deep breath:

"He made seven Horcruxes?"

“It’s alright, my soul is shattered into a thousand pieces, that’s a bigger threat,” Cohen said.

“I believe he is making the sixth one,” Dumbledore said. “Harry, do you remember that dream you had about Voldemort’s massacre?”

“He’s making Horcruxes,” Harry said, “but we don’t know exactly how many he’s made…”

“Riddle’s diary, Ravenclaw’s tiara, Slytherin’s locket, Hufflepuff’s cup, and old Marvolo’s ring—you’re welcome. I’ve already cleared out the old five.” Cohen waved his hand modestly.

"When?!" Harry asked in surprise.

“It started during my first summer vacation at Malfoy Manor,” Cohen said, raising an eyebrow. “Voldemort hates me now—”

"And the only thing we need to figure out now is what Voldemort's last Horcrux will be."

"The snake next to him?" Cohen asked, following the original plot development.

“Your father killed that snake during the ambush,” Dumbledore said. “It…”

Dumbledore paused, closed his eyes, and said no more.

“Alright, then we’ll have to try guessing what Voldemort’s favorite loot is,” Cohen sighed. “Or maybe we can rely on you, Harry, the ultimate spy.”

"Maybe..." Harry had some doubts about whether he would ever see Voldemort doing anything again.

“I have a plan I’m working on, Harry,” Dumbledore said. “First, I have to make sure it doesn’t hurt you. Perhaps we’ll have a practical lesson next class.”

(End of this chapter)