Hogwarts Study Panel.

Chapter 588, Section 586: The Obsession with 7

Chapter 588, Section 586: Seven's Obsession

"Ah, it's best not to mention that name."

Professor Slughorn's expression instantly turned unnatural.

"We've discovered he's making a comeback—"

Sheehan said bluntly that he saw Professor Slughorn's hands tremble behind his back. "If possible, Headmaster Dumbledore and I would like to learn something from you."

"Information? I already gave it to him, didn't I? I have another research project tonight, son. I think it's time for me to leave."

Professor Slughorn turned to the side.

"The more you run away, the more likely you are to run into fate halfway, Professor. Headmaster Dumbledore has left to complete a dangerous mission—he doesn't want to force you, but he always hopes you will be brave."

Sheehan said his cheeks were slightly flushed.

"That's enough!"

Professor Slughorn suddenly cried out, raising his trembling hand, "Really, dear child, enough—I'm an old man—I don't need to hear—I don't want to hear—"

"That would be a great help to us; what they're doing is very dangerous—"

Sheen's eyelids drooped slightly, and his lips were pressed tightly together.

Sheehan didn't need to guess where Headmaster Dumbledore had gone. Although he was the only person Voldemort feared, given Headmaster Dumbledore's current open-mindedness, he might even be hoping to go to the world behind the veil.

At this point, the wizard was powerful and fearless; if he were to fall into Voldemort's trap again, Sheen felt it wasn't impossible.

Not to mention Mr. Lupin and Mr. Sirius, who are facing the most powerful dark wizard in history.

"Don't say that."

Professor Slughorn seemed to only then learn of the news. He stared at Sheehan for a moment, then whispered, "If it could help Albus—of course, no problem—but that thing is useless—"

"We've already destroyed five Horcruxes, and knowing that is important to us."

Sheen talked much more than usual today.

"What an outstanding job you've done!"

Professor Slughorn stared at the young wizard in shock, tears welling in his eyes. "All thanks to you? Children, you must have fought many dangerous battles with him."

"Yes, Professor."

Sheen remained silent for a while, but did not deny it.

Justin and Hermione, hiding to the side, were just as lost in thought as Professor Slughorn.

They never expected to hear such astonishing news.

Sheen and Headmaster Dumbledore secretly destroyed five Horcruxes.

Thinking about it this way, it makes perfect sense that Headmaster Dumbledore chose Sheen as the new Headmaster.

No one is more trustworthy than your comrades-in-arms who fight alongside you.

Thinking this way, Justin and Hermione felt that Sheehan was getting further away from them.

He was right there, yet there seemed to be something hazy between them; they were like people on parallel lines gazing at each other.

"I----"

Professor Slughorn was clearly caught in a dilemma.

"I know, Professor, it takes a lot of courage to admit your mistakes. But I just want to tell you that there are many people who are working hard and fighting to completely eradicate evil. They may not possess powerful magic, but they certainly possess noble courage."

Sheehan said earnestly, Professor Slughorn barely daring to look him in the eye, "You are a wizard with such courage, Headmaster Dumbledore and I both think so, but you yourself don't know it yet."

Professor Slughorn covered his face, tears welling up between his fingers.

He slowly raised his fat hand and pressed his trembling fingers to his lips, making him look like a huge baby for a moment.

"I feel ashamed—"

He murmured softly through his fingers, "I'm ashamed of what that memory shows—I think I may have caused a lot of harm that day—"

"Everyone makes mistakes; the choice between a warrior and a coward lies in whether or not one is willing to make amends for those mistakes."

Sheen said softly.

Finally, Professor Slughorn very slowly reached into his pocket, pulled out his wand, and with his other hand took out a small empty bottle from his cloak.

He kept his eyes fixed on Sheehan's, pressed the tip of his wand to his temple, and then removed it.

The tip of the cane trailed a long, silvery thread of memory.

It stretched longer and longer until it finally broke, its silvery sheen shimmering on the tip of the staff. Professor Slughorn placed it in a bottle, where the silver thread curled up, then unfurled, swirling like gas.

With trembling hands, he tightened the bottle cap and handed it to Sheen across the table.

"Will I be a brave person?"

He asked in a low voice.

"When the wind blows, all the grass knows it."

Sheen bowed deeply. "Thank you very much, Professor."

"You're a good boy."

Professor Slughorn said, tears streaming down his plump face and into his walrus beard, "You have far more courage than I do—"

Having obtained that crucial memory, Sheen did not show any sign of happiness.

He quietly bid farewell to Professor Slughorn, quietly returned to the cabin, and quietly took out the Pensieve.

The road ahead is long, and they still have much to do.

Fortunately, we finally saw the end.

Two heads emerged from the crack in the door, one in front and one behind.

Justin and Hermione rushed over, pressed against the doorframe, and could hear their own still-beating hearts.

Outside, the young wizards were playing wildly, enjoying their last days of vacation. The sounds of strange wizard chess pieces clattering, fingers gliding across magic mirrors, and the wizards' exclamations echoed in the corridor.

Inside the door, Sheen had already sunk into the Pensieve.

He fell into the darkness again, landing in Professor Slughorn's office from many years ago.

It was still the much younger Professor Slughorn, with thick, glossy straw-yellow hair and a ginger mustache, sitting in a comfortable winged armchair with his feet resting on a large velvet cushion, holding a small glass of wine in one hand and picking through a box of jackfruit with the other.

Six or seven boys in their teens sat around Professor Slughorn, among them Tom Riddle.

As Sheen fell in, Riddle asked, "Sir, is Professor Miles retiring?"

"Tom, Tom, I know but I can't tell you."

Professor Slughorn shook a sugar-coated finger at him reproachfully, but then winked.

"I have to say, I'd like to know where you got your information, son. You know more than half the teachers."

Riddle smiled slightly, and the other boys laughed along, casting admiring glances at him.

"You little devil, you know things you shouldn't know, and you're so good at trying to please important people. By the way, thank you for the pineapple, you guessed it, it's my favorite."

Several boys chuckled.

I believe you'll be Minister for Magic within twenty years. Maybe even fifteen, if you keep sending me pineapple preserves. I have very strong connections in the ministry.

The other boys laughed again, while Tom Riddle merely smiled slightly.

"I don't know if politics is right for me, sir."

After the laughter subsided, Tom Riddell said, "First of all, I have no connections."

The two boys next to them looked at each other and smiled.

"What are you saying?"

Professor Slughorn said cheerfully, "With your talent, it's obvious you come from a respectable wizarding family. You have a bright future, Tom. I've never misjudged a student."

The small gold clock on Professor Slughorn's desk struck eleven.

"Good heavens, is it time already? We should go, kids, or we'll be in trouble. Lestrange, your paper is due tomorrow, or you're in solitary confinement. You too, Avery."

The boys filed out. Professor Slughorn got up from his chair and took the empty cup to the table.

The commotion behind him made him turn around, and Riddle was still standing there.

Sheen knew the crucial moment had arrived, and he stared intently at Riddle.

Some white mist drifted out from the empty talisman once again.

This time, Sheen noticed them.

Before he could examine it closely, he was interrupted by the sound that rang out again.

"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."

Professor Slughorn stared at him, his chubby fingers absentmindedly stroking the stem of the cup.

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

But Sheehan could tell that Professor Slughorn knew this wasn't schoolwork.

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

"Hmm—yes—it's hard to find a book that details Horcruxes at Hogwarts, Tom. They're very evil things, very evil."

Professor Slughorn said.

“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 of one who can, and that’s you—so I wanted to ask.”

It was just right; the hesitant, casual tone and the subtle compliments were perfectly timed, without being overdone.

"Um,""

Professor Slughorn said, without looking at Riddle, but fiddling with the ribbon on the pineapple candy box, "Of course, it won't hurt to give you a brief explanation, just so you can understand the term. A Horcrux is an object that contains a part of a person's soul."

"But I don't quite understand what's going on, sir."

Riddell said.

His voice was carefully controlled, but he couldn't completely suppress his excitement.

"That means you've split your soul in two."

Professor Slughorn said, "Hide a part of it in an object outside the body. That way, even if your body is attacked or destroyed, you won't die because a part of your soul remains unharmed. But, of course, existing in this form—"

Professor Slughorn's face wrinkled. "—Few people would want that, Tom, very few indeed. Death is a quicker death."

But Riddle's hunger was now evident; his greedy expression could no longer conceal his desire.

"How do you split a soul?"

"oh,"

Professor Slughorn said uneasily, "You must understand that the soul should remain whole. To split it is a rebellion, an act against nature."

"But how does it split?"

"Through evil deeds—the most evil deeds, through murder. Murder causes the soul to split, and wizards who want to create Horcruxes exploit this destruction: sealing the split soul fragments. 'Sealing them? But how—?'"

"There's a spell, don't ask me, I don't know!"

Professor Slughorn shook his head like an elephant annoyed by mosquito bites. "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, I didn't mean any offense."

Professor Slughorn said gruffly, "It's normal to be curious about these things—talented wizards are always drawn to the magical side—"

"Yes, sir."

Riddle said, "But what I don't understand is, just out of curiosity, I want to ask, is a Horcrux really that useful? Can a soul only 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!"

Professor Slughorn exclaimed, "Seven! Isn't killing one person evil enough? In any case—splitting a soul is evil enough—but to split it into seven pieces—"

Sheen stared at Voldemort's expression, guessing that he would watch this memory repeatedly.

Only by knowing exactly how many Horcruxes Voldemort created will their future become clearer.

Just then, the white mist began to drift out again.

They gently landed on Sheen's head and then enveloped his eyes.

Sheen was somewhat taken aback to find that the world seemed clearer, and some physical things, including chairs, pineapple preserves, and wooden tables, had disappeared.

Only two blurry figures of wizards remained in the room.

What he is seeing now is the wizard's soul.

The thought involuntarily popped into Sheen's mind.

The wizard's form is blurred because the soul is inherently fleeting, and the parts that make up the wizard's soul are wisdom and emotions.

At this moment, Sheen could see no wisdom; he could only see a fiery red color, like obsession.

It burst forth from Riddle's body, and anyone would know that this fiery red would never fade.

He will definitely create seven Horcruxes.

These words popped into Sheen's head.

When he came to his senses, Sheen had already fallen out of his memories.

Once again, with his feet firmly on the ground, Sheen felt a little dazed.

He tried to find the mist again, but he could no longer find it.

"Strange, is it because the empty talisman cracked?"