The days at Hogwarts

Just now in the library, it was Ernie MacMillan who was slandering him, and those infuriating words are still ringing in my ears:

"No one knows how he managed to survive the attack by You-Know-Who. He was just a baby when it happened. He should have been blown to pieces. Only a powerful dark wizard could have escaped a spell like that."

"Harry Potter is a dark wizard like the You-Know-Who, so the You-Know-Who wants to kill him. He doesn't want another 'evil' to appear and compete with him."

"He's a Parseltongue. What decent wizard can talk to snakes?"

……

Word by word, those filthy speculations were all spoken by this Ernie MacMillan, and for a moment Harry hoped that it was this Ernie who was petrified by the basilisk.

Professor McGonagall shouted sternly, "Enough, go back to the classroom!"

Ernie wanted to say a few more words, but after meeting Harry's gaze, he held back all his words and turned away dejectedly.

Professor Flitwick and Professor Sinistra from the Astronomy Department took Justin to the school infirmary. Besides Harry and Professor McGonagall, only Loren, Hermione and Ron were left there.

"Professor," said Harry with difficulty, "I swear I didn't -"

"I can't do anything about this, Potter!" Professor McGonagall complained bitterly to the headmaster of an unknown magic school in her heart.

But when she looked down and saw Harry's pitiful appearance, she couldn't help softening her heart. She reached out and stroked Harry's hair, and said softly, "I know it's not you."

Harry's eyes reddened and he nodded silently.

Professor McGonagall sighed and turned to look at the three people who were reluctant to leave. She spun her wand in a circle in her hand and a large fan appeared out of thin air.

Professor McGonagall handed the fan to Lauren: "I will take Harry to see the headmaster, you guys fan Nick upstairs."

With that she took Harry away, leaving Loren, Hermione and Ron looking at each other.

The three of them took turns fanning themselves and slowly walked upstairs. Nick had no physical body, and even if he was petrified, there was no way to move him. But they could fan him, which was really contradictory.

"Since he has no physical body, why can the wind blow him?" Loren looked at Nico, who was almost headless after being petrified, and was a little puzzled.

"If he has no physical body, why can't the wind blow him?" Ron asked back in confusion, as if it was natural that the wind could blow ghosts.

Loren was frustrated for a while, but finally he had to accept this reality. After all, magic is unreasonable.

Hermione had not participated in the conversation. She lowered her head and thought about what had just happened. "Do you think Professor McGonagall knows something? I mean, she was not panicked or worried when she saw Justin, and she believed in Harry unconditionally."

Ron was also thoughtful: "Dumbledore's attitude is also very strange. He was beside us when Rolf was talking to us, and he interrupted us to continue. He seemed to know something about our actions, but he didn't stop us."

Loren couldn't help but smack his lips. No one was stupid. Dumbledore's behavior and attitude were information that could be interpreted. At the current rate of progress, the basilisk would be dealt with soon.

Harry followed Professor McGonagall to a huge, hideous stone monster, opened the passage with the password "lemon ice cream", went up the spiral staircase, and came to a gleaming oak door with a brass knocker in the shape of a griffin.

"Wait outside for a moment. I have something to talk to Headmaster Dumbledore about!" Professor McGonagall said, and hurriedly pushed the door open.

Harry blinked, not sure if it was an illusion, but he felt that Professor McGonagall was being tough, as if she was going to question Headmaster Dumbledore.

Harry swore he hadn't meant to eavesdrop, but the oak door wasn't shut tightly and some of the noise slipped through the crack.

Professor McGonagall's voice was clear, and one could hear the anger in her words:

"Headmaster! Headmaster Dumbledore! What on earth are you thinking!"

"It's been almost two months since Halloween, how long do you have to wait..."

In contrast, Dumbledore's response was very gentle. Harry could only hear some subtle sounds and could not make out the content clearly.

"Do you know how many letters we've received from parents? If this continues, the school will be closed!"

Harry's heart skipped a beat when he heard this. He was really concerned about whether the school would be closed, so he couldn't help but sneak in and hide behind a shelf to eavesdrop.

Standing here, you can see that there is another compartment in the office. In the compartment is a shallow stone basin with mysterious runes carved on the edge of the basin. Harry has seen similar patterns in the book that Loren read, which seems to be a kind of text called runes.

"Oh, Minerva, don't worry..."

Dumbledore's voice was still indistinct and indistinct.

Just as Harry pricked up his ears and tried to get closer, he saw something. On one of the shelves was a tattered, crumpled wizard's hat - the Sorting Hat.

In an instant, many images flashed through Harry's mind.

On the Hogwarts Express, Malfoy and his followers wanted to get to know him... At the Sorting Banquet, the Sorting Hat was chattering about sorting him into Slytherin... The young wizards were surprised when they found out that he spoke Parseltongue, and Hermione said that this was a unique skill of Slytherin...

The idea of ​​wearing the Sorting Hat again came to Harry's mind. He wanted to talk to the Sorting Hat.

He hesitated for a moment, then looked up warily at the portraits of past principals on the surrounding walls. To his surprise, the portraits were turned upside down on the wall so no one would notice him.

Harry picked up a hat from the rack and slowly put it on his head. It was too big and slid down over his eyes.

A small voice sounded in his ear, no, in his head: "Is there something you don't understand, Harry Potter?"

Before Harry could say anything, the Sorting Hat's voice rang out again: "Do you want to know if I put you in the right house? Yes... your position is not easy to place accurately, but I still stick to my original statement--"

"You'd fit in, Slytherin."

Harry's heart began to beat wildly and he felt sick, so he grabbed the crown of the hat and pulled it off.

The violent movement hit the gold-inlaid perch at the door, and the old and frail Fawkes suffered an unexpected disaster. The phoenix, with all its feathers lost, fell from the perch, looked at Harry with a sad look, and let out a suffocating groan as if it was dying.

Putting the Sorting Hat back on the shelf, Harry tried to pick up Fawkes in a panic, but before he could get close, the bird had turned into a fireball, it screamed, the flames rose and quickly went out, leaving only a pile of ashes on the floor that had not yet been completely extinguished.

Harry's mind went blank, it's over, it's really over, the matter of manipulating the basilisk to attack his classmates has not been clarified, and he has to add another debt for killing Fox.

Turning around, Dumbledore had appeared behind the shelf, looking at the pile of ashes with a strange look.

Harry could no longer bear the pressure in his heart, and he cried and yelled: "Principal Dumbledore, I, I didn't mean to do that... I couldn't help it, Fawkes fell to the ground and suddenly caught fire..."

Seeing Harry's miserable appearance, Dumbledore pursed his lips, but couldn't help laughing softly.

The headmaster's laughter grew louder and louder, and Harry's crying became quieter and quieter. Finally, Harry stopped crying and looked at Dumbledore in astonishment.

Dumbledore shook his head and said gently, "Fawkes is a phoenix, Harry. When the phoenix is ​​about to die, it will set itself on fire, and then regenerate from the ashes. You look at it..."

Harry looked down in time to see a tiny, wrinkled, featherless chick poke its head out from the ashes.

It's really, really ugly.

Sensing Harry's impolite look, the reborn Fawkes squeaked and cursed. Although I couldn't understand what he said, judging from the tone, it must have been very ugly.

"It also knows that this is not a good look, so it is dragging its feet and refusing to achieve Nirvana. Last time, I asked Scamander to take a letter to his grandfather, Mr. Newt, to ask for some potion to help Fawkes achieve Nirvana." Dumbledore led Harry to sit in front of the table.

Professor McGonagall was nowhere to be seen; she had probably left when Harry was putting on the Sorting Hat.

Harry withdrew his gaze from Fawkes and remembered the purpose of his coming here: "Professor, I...can you believe it wasn't me?"

The voice of the Sorting Hat came out of my head again, "You fit in, Slytherin!"

There were times when Harry himself doubted whether he was really the heir of Slytherin.

"No, Harry, I don't think so." Dumbledore studied him, touching the tips of his ten long fingers together. "More importantly, Harry, I need your help."

"help?"

"Yes, some people on the board of directors are not satisfied with Minerva's achievements. They want to use this incident to put pressure on me and turn Hogwarts into what they want." Dumbledore paused, "Minerva and I both want to find out the truth about the basilisk as soon as possible, but we are too conspicuous. The heir hiding in the castle is on guard against every professor, and we can't find any useful clues."

Harry realized it belatedly and pointed at himself in disbelief: "So, me?"

Dumbledore nodded, then shook his head: "It's not you, it's you. I would like to ask you to find out the heir as soon as possible, or find out the location of the Chamber of Secrets, and leave the rest to the professors."

"Professor, we've been working on this, but..." Harry was dejected.

Hagrid, Malfoy, himself... all these messed up things and people were tangled together, and he couldn't make sense of them. He was not sure he could find out the truth by relying on Polyjuice Potion to get information from Malfoy.

"I think I might be able to provide some minor help." Dumbledore stood up and entered the compartment. He picked up the stone basin, walked to the table, and placed it on the smooth tabletop. "Here are some clues about the last opening of the Chamber of Secrets."

Harry saw what was inside the Pensieve, and he couldn't tell if it was liquid or gas, like a bright piece of silver, but it was constantly moving, rippling like water in the breeze, and drifting and spreading like clouds, swirling softly. It was light transformed into liquid, and like wind condensed into solid.

"What is this?" Harry asked.

"It's called the Pensieve. You see, I'm getting too old, and I have too many thoughts and memories cluttering my head, and I can't access them as quickly as I could when I was younger."

Dumbledore pointed at the stone basin and said, "At this time, I use the Pensieve to suck out the excess content from my brain and pour it into this basin. Take a good look at it when you have time. You know, in this state, it is easier to see their shapes and connections with each other."

"This is, your thoughts and memories!?" Harry exclaimed with his eyes wide open.

"Yes," Dumbledore drew his wand, thrust the tip into his silver hair, close to his temple, and pulled out a strand of the silvery-white substance.

"Let's look at what happened back then."

Chapter 205: Provoking People's Hearts

After arranging the petrified Nick, Loren, Hermione and Ron returned to the common room and saw Harry sitting by the window. The other young wizards stayed far away, fearing that they would be petrified by Harry if they got too close.

The three of them quickly rushed to sit next to him. Seeing that he looked a little dazed, Hermione slowed down her speech: "Harry, did Headmaster Dumbledore say anything?"

Harry suddenly came to his senses. He scratched his hair, hesitating about what to say: "At first, Professor McGonagall asked me to wait outside the door while she went in and scolded Headmaster Dumbledore."

"Ah?" Hermione and Ron's faces were full of surprise.

"Ha!" Loren's face was full of gloating, and he even felt a little regretful that he didn't witness the scene with his own eyes.

"and then?"

"And then..." Harry recounted what happened behind the headmaster's office, about Fawkes's nirvana, and about what he saw in the Pensieve about the Chamber of Secrets 50 years ago. Out of some secretive thoughts, he concealed the conversation with the Sorting Hat.

Harry recalled the scene he saw in the Pensieve, "Remember what Rolf told us? Hagrid had his wand broken and was expelled from school because of the Chamber of Secrets incident 50 years ago."

Ron shouted restlessly, "Didn't we talk about this? Hagrid may like those big furry creatures, but he certainly didn't release the basilisk."

"Hear me out." Harry's eyes were fixed on Ron. "Myrtle was the victim of the Chamber of Secrets 50 years ago, but she had no idea what monster killed her. When Hogwarts was about to suspend classes for investigation, a student named Tom Riddle discovered the Acromanthus that Hagrid raised. The Ministry of Magic soon got the news and expelled Hagrid and the Acromanthus from the school."

Harry licked his lips, paused and continued, "Professor Dumbledore thought the case was closed too quickly and the evidence was not sufficient, so he protected Hagrid despite everyone's pressure. However, I noticed something strange in my memory."

"What's strange?" Hermione asked.

Harry looked around and lowered his voice, "Dumbledore's attitude towards Tom Riddle is very strange. He doesn't trust Riddle at all and seems to be on guard against him. I have never seen Dumbledore like that. You know, he always looks so smiling and kind."

Ever since the name Tom Riddle was mentioned, Ron lowered his head and recalled something. He suddenly said, "Tom Riddle... He is a student of Slytherin. I have seen this name. When I was in detention last time, Filch punished me to wipe the trophies in the trophy display room. Riddle won the award for special contribution to the school fifty years ago."

"So, he is a good student. Then why would Headmaster Dumbledore be on guard against a good student?" Hermione was confused.

"Listen to me," Loren, who had been listening for a long time, spoke up, attracting the attention of several people, "You all believe that Hagrid had nothing to do with the Chamber of Secrets incident fifty years ago, right?"

Although they were a little hesitant, they nodded and agreed to this statement.

"Suppose, it's just a hypothesis. If Hagrid and Headmaster Dumbledore are good people, then--" Loren guided the thoughts of several people.

"Tom Riddle is a bad guy!" Harry figured it out instantly. He slammed the table and fluently said a series of inferences, "He is framing Hagrid. Professor Dumbledore may have seen through his plan, but Riddle is always on guard against Professor Dumbledore, so he can't find any evidence."

Ron added, "Right! So it was he who exposed Hagrid's keeping of Acromantulas and quickly passed the news to the Ministry of Magic."

"In that case, it is very likely that he was the one who released the basilisk in the Chamber of Secrets. In order to prevent Hogwarts from being closed down and to continue hiding himself, he pushed Hagrid out as a scapegoat." Hermione's face was a little pale.

Yes, it is like that.

Loren nodded with satisfaction. He was a perfect guiding NPC.

"But he graduated fifty years ago, and there is no faculty member in the school named Tom Riddle. Who opened the Chamber of Secrets this time?" Harry asked in confusion.

"Perhaps he passed down the location of the Chamber of Secrets and the method to open it," Hermione waved her fist. "What we need to do now is to find that guy named Tom Riddle."

"He's from Slytherin House, Malfoy might have a clue about him."

"The Polyjuice Potion is almost done."

As the news of the murders of Justin and Nearly Headless Nick spread, the young wizards at Hogwarts became panic-stricken once again, even more panic-stricken than the previous two times.

The professors in the castle began to escort students to class in shifts, standing guard all night, and doing their best to protect the students' safety. Even George and Fred could not find a chance to go out at night.

The young wizards also had their own practices. During this period, they exchanged amulets, amulets and other protective items without the professor's knowledge. This practice soon became popular in the school.

Neville had a pointed amethyst between his fingers and was stuffing a large, stinking green onion under the foot of his four-poster bed, which had a rotting newt tail hanging from the head.

Harry's bed was very close to him, and he felt that his nose and brain were being attacked by some evil dark magic. "Oh~ Neville, do you want to turn yourself into Quirrell?"

Neville wrinkled his nose and was somewhat disgusted with these things: "Harry, I believe you, I am not on guard against you. It's just that I am afraid of being petrified. I can't lie in the school infirmary. I have to go to St. Mungo's Nursing Home to visit my parents during the Christmas holidays."

Ron and Seamus smiled when they heard this. They climbed onto Neville's bed and put their arms around his shoulders. "You don't have to worry at all. You are a pure-blood. The heir of Slytherin won't attack you."

Neville was still uneasy: "But, they tried to attack Filch in the beginning, you know, I'm almost a Squib."

"Hey! Neville, you're different now. You're not the same Neville anymore." Loren fell on the bed and flattered himself in front of Bloody Mary's mirror. "Remember? You can beat Crabbe, you can wield a giant snake as a whip, and everyone recognizes you as a Gryffindor warrior."

Speaking of this, Ximo's eyes turned red: "Yes, I am the only one in the whole dormitory who is not a warrior, ah——"

Seamus rolled, crawled, roared, and squirmed on Neville's bed...

It looks scary.

With their comfort, Neville gradually calmed down and threw all the messy things off the bed, including the onion head, the newt tail, and the jealous Seamus.

On Friday, the notice for the fourth Duel Club event was posted, and the bulletin board was crowded with little wizards eager to protect themselves.