The Wind and the Wings of Hogwarts

"So," Dumbledore said, taking a sip of hot cocoa to soothe his throat. "What are your thoughts, Scott?"

"Um……"

Scott pondered for a moment, then looked down at the parchment.

“Riddle is an extremely proud and arrogant fellow. Judging from his personality, he wouldn’t make a Horcrux using ordinary materials… but he used an ordinary notebook…”

“He was only 16 years old at the time,” Dumbledore said. “I think that was his first attempt.”

"In other words, among his Horcruxes... it is very likely that only the notebook is an ordinary item, while the other Horcruxes are more meaningful things."

Scott said it in a speculative tone.

"For example, the Ravenclaw crown."

“You mean…” Dumbledore nodded, “possibly, Slytherin’s locket, Hufflepuff’s cup? It’s certainly possible, they’ve all disappeared.”

Scott wrote several more words on the parchment.

Then Dumbledore went on to tell some rumors about the two relics.

Scott listened and wrote down, adding details as he went.

In the end, he wrote almost the entire parchment.

“That’s all,” Dumbledore said, peering inside. “Now, you try it.”

Scott nodded and began the work of converting the words into numbers.

Because the parchment was so full of writing, he could only write the numbers smaller and in the gaps.

This time, it took him a full ten minutes to complete this step.

Chapter 171 The Unexpected Seventh Horcrux

"Algorithm".

Scott waved his wand and completed the calculation.

The next step is the final one.

Scott took a deep breath, resolutely waved his wand, and tapped it on the parchment.

"Digital display."

On the parchment, the numbers obtained after the calculation came to life.

Scott stared intently at the paper, frowning.

Not so good.

The numbers on the paper moved around somewhat haphazardly, and he couldn't immediately discern any pattern.

and……

The most difficult part of this arithmetic divination was the inability to firmly believe in one's own ideas.

Unlike the previous two uses, where he could visualize both his parents and Ravenclaw's crown in his mind, this time he was able to do so in a concrete way.

"Voldemort's Horcruxes" is a relatively abstract concept for him.

But Scott quickly put aside his distractions and focused on the purpose of his divination.

Splash, splash.

The parchment touched by Scott's wand trembled, and Scott had already closed his eyes.

In his mind, it seemed as if a notebook and a crown image composed of countless numbers appeared, with even more numbers flying and colliding haphazardly around the notebook and crown image.

They constantly combine, only to shatter again just as they are about to form a new image, making it impossible to discern what they actually represent.

But the jumbled numbers eventually seemed to separate; apart from the images of the notebook and the crown, the other numbers were divided into four groups.

6?

Scott thought.

I think there should be 7.

As he thought this way, the jumbled numbers in his mind split into a new cluster.

That's all we can do.

Scott promptly opened his eyes.

At this point, almost all the moving numbers on the parchment disappeared in the collision.

The moment Scott opened his eyes, he saw that the only remaining [6] had abruptly changed into [7].

The number [7] quickly moved to the top of the parchment.

“[7]?” Dumbledore looked down at the number. “It’s a magical number.”

Scott felt weak all over.

He performed his third arithmetic divination of the day.

At this moment, he felt as if all the magic power in his body had been completely drained.

He reached out to pick up the cup of hot cocoa, but his wrist suddenly went sore, and he lost his balance and the cup fell over.

Dumbledore quickly held up a finger, freezing the spilled glass and drink in mid-air before restoring them to their original state.

He then picked up the Elder Wand and waved it at Scott, a gentle white light shining on Scott, who suddenly felt better.

"This is a little trick I learned from Mrs. Pomfrey; it can only temporarily relieve fatigue."

Dumbledore then tapped the cup next to Scott with his wand.

The cup of hot cocoa was full again, and a straw had appeared in the cup.

Scott touched the cup with his hand and found that the temperature was just right, so he quickly bent down and took a big sip of hot cocoa.

After drinking the rich, hot cocoa, he felt better.

So he extended his right index finger and placed it on the parchment, beginning to perceive the number at the very top [7].

But he opened his eyes a few seconds later.

“The information is scarce,” he told Dumbledore. “These numbers only indicate the number of Horcruxes; they don’t bring me any more.”

“Very good, that’s already very good.” Dumbledore smiled with satisfaction.

“Perhaps you’ve noticed,” Scott added, “the final change in the numbers.”

"And then it changed from [6] to [7]?" Dumbledore asked. "What does that signify?"

Scott said in a low voice, "Voldemort deliberately created six Horcruxes, [6] representing perfection, and he himself is [7] the most magical number. I think he did it on purpose."

"But in the end there are seven Horcruxes?" Dumbledore asked, somewhat surprised.

Scott nodded. "The seventh Horcrux was an accident. I'm afraid... even he himself doesn't know it."

Upon hearing this, Dumbledore's expression changed, and he seemed to be deep in thought.

It took him a long time to come to his senses.

“Very good,” he said to Scott. “I must thank you for your assistance, Scott; this means a great deal to us.”

“You’re welcome, Professor,” Scott smiled. “But I think those Horcruxes of Riddle are very likely also Medea’s targets, aren’t they?”

"you're right."

Dumbledore pushed up his half-moon spectacles, which were almost falling off his nose.

“However, you are still a student, Scott, so you don’t need to worry about this for now.”

He waved.

"Go ahead, I hope you can get some rest."

Just as Scott was about to get up, he sensed the phoenix suddenly take flight and circle above his head.

He then found himself sitting on a hospital bed in the school hospital.

"Mr. Trollope!"

Mrs. Pomfrey rushed in and placed a hospital gown on the bedside table.

"Dumbledore has already informed me. You should quickly change into clean clothes!"

She turned around and walked quickly outside.

"I'll go get your medicine. Dumbledore really knows how to cause trouble. He shouldn't have asked his students for favors; that old senile man!"

Scott was taken aback for a moment, then obediently changed into a hospital gown and lay down on the hospital bed.

His limbs were going weak again, which took him quite a while.

Lady Pomfrey then brought over two more bottles of potions and poured them into his mouth without a word.

"Very good, go to sleep now, child."

She immediately drew the curtains over the hospital bed.

"Tomorrow will be better, goodnight."

Good night, Mrs. Pomfrey.

Scott closed his eyes and quickly drifted off to sleep.

The next day, Scott was awakened by the aroma of food.

He groggily opened his eyes and saw that the curtains around his bed had been drawn back, and Milton was sitting beside him.

"morning."

He looked at the paper crown on Milton's head.

"What are you doing...?"

"Good morning, you have this too."

Milton smiled and took out another paper crown.

"This is our ceremony to celebrate the imminent return of the Ravenclaw crown!"