Hogwarts' Golden Glory

The candlelight in the cellar dormitory flickered, casting distorted shadows on the stone walls.

Kane Malfoy leaned against the curtain of his four-poster bed, his two wands spinning slowly between his fingers like conductor's batons.

On the small ebony table in front of him lay an old, worn diary, its serpentine emblem on the cover faded and dull.

"Tom," Kane wrote on the page, dipping his quill in the special silver ink, "let's play a game. Tell me, what kind of person is Dumbledore?"

The ink spread across the paper, and after a long while, a line of elegant but weak handwriting finally appeared:

Albus Dumbledore...a dangerous idealist. He's adept at masking his ambition with sweet words and gentle gestures, Kane. Be careful, he never trusts even the most outstanding students of the Emperor!

Kane's lips curled into a smile.

He glanced at the corner of the room—it seemed empty, but there was an extremely subtle magical fluctuation in the air.

The combined effect of the Confusion Charm and the Advanced Invisibility Charm was enough to deceive most wizards, but it couldn't fool his senses.

"How so?" Kane continued writing.

He collects geniuses like he collects Chocolate Frog cards.

The handwriting in the diary became hurried, as if suppressing some ancient resentment. [The way he looked at me back then was the same—admiration, wariness, and a hint of...pity. He never truly trusted me, just as he won't truly trust you now.]

Kane leaned back in his chair, a playful glint in his grey-blue eyes.

He deliberately slowed down his writing speed:

"So what's your suggestion?"

[Leaving Hogwarts.] The diary almost screamed, [Going to seek the true legacy left by Salazar. Dumbledore will never let you touch those things—he fears powers beyond his own.]

The quill pen spun around on Kane's fingertip.

He looked up at the empty corner, raised an eyebrow slightly, as if to say: Did you hear that? He's trying to drive a wedge between us.

A barely audible sigh drifted through the air.

Kane leaned down again, the pen tip gliding across the paper:

"An interesting suggestion. But I remember Salazar left a secret room in the school; could there be any legacy there?"

He paused deliberately.

The diary began to tremble violently, its pages flipping rapidly.

【Have! 】

"Kane! If you trust me, I can show you how to obtain Salazar's power!"

As long as you open your heart—

"You can help me?" Kane interrupted, his handwriting becoming sharp. "With the little magic you have left? Tom, you can't even give me a nightmare."

The diary fell silent.

The ink on the paper began to smudge uncontrollably, a sign of the Horcrux's core emotions fluctuating violently.

After a long while, new handwriting appeared, carrying a desperate and ferocious quality:

"Let me out... let me absorb some life force, even just from a rat... and I'll regain my strength. Then I'll tell you the real secret—not just the basilisk, but something even older... deep beneath Hogwarts..."

After all this time, why doesn't the soul in the diary understand?

The Kane in front of me is definitely not a simple second-year student!

He might even be the next version of himself!

He's completely broken now, with no way out!

Kane smiled.

"Tom Tom," he said softly, this time speaking directly to the diary without using a pen, "do you know what your biggest mistake was?"

The diary froze.

"You're too arrogant." Kane stood up, walked to the bedside, and pulled a long, narrow package from under the pillow. "You think this is some pure-blooded boy who needs your 'tutelage' and craves power?"

He untied the ribbon of the package, revealing a longsword inlaid with rubies—the blade of the Gryffindor sword shimmered with a faint golden glow in the candlelight.

The diary trembled violently, large blots of ink splattering onto the pages:

No...impossible...that's...

With a slight twist of his wrist, the tip of his sword parted the cover page of the diary.

Between the pages, a semi-transparent, young, and handsome phantom can be vaguely seen struggling—a fragment of Tom Riddle's sixteen-year-old soul, already as weak as a candle flickering in the wind.

The handwriting in the image was so illegible that it was almost impossible to decipher.

"Dumbledore gave it to me," Kane said casually. "He said 'make the most of what you have.' I think he meant—to use a Gryffindor sword to kill a Slytherin Horcrux is quite symbolic."

In the corner, the air rippled noticeably for a moment.

The phantom of the diary let out a silent scream.

It suddenly unleashed its last strength, and black mist surged from the pages, condensing into the shape of a venomous snake that lunged straight at Kane's face!

This is its final counterattack, which it has been building up for months.

The fang-like black mist contained a decaying curse, enough to instantly knock any unsuspecting wizard unconscious.

Kane didn't even move a step.

Just one slash!

The black mist in front of them vanished instantly!

"By the way," Kane said finally, his grey-blue eyes fixed on the fading phantom, "the basilisk you've been longing for is dead. I killed it. Deep within the secret chamber, with this sword."

The phantom froze completely.

It "looked" at Kane, and for the first time, a genuine, pure fear appeared on that handsome face that belonged to Tom Riddle.

A second-grade student!

They killed the basilisk, obtained the Gryffindor sword, and... completely saw through all its schemes.

"Who...are you...?" The last line appeared on the page, the ink so faint it was almost invisible.

Kane did not answer. He gripped the sword with both hands, the tip aimed at the center of the diary, and then thrust it down.

This strike pierced right through the opponent's soul!

The diary was also split in two!

【Do not! 】

If it weren't for Kane's soundproofing spell!

That scream could probably be heard by all the students in Slytherin!

Hogwarts, Gryffindor Tower

Harry woke up with a start.

It wasn't a nightmare!

It's a sudden, sharp pain, like a red-hot wire piercing deep into the brain from the scar on the forehead.

"ah--!"

He curled up, covering his scars tightly with his hands.

"Harry?" Ron's groggy voice came from the top bunk.

Harry was speechless.

He felt a deep, chilling fear.

It wasn't the fear of death, but the fear of being "completely erased."

It's as if something suddenly disappeared.

......

At the same moment, Voldemort was reprimanding Griffin Greyback.

"I need more sacrifices! Not rats, not goblins, but magical beings—"

His voice abruptly stopped.

The shape formed from black mist suddenly twisted violently, emitting a shriek that sounded inhuman.

The edges of the fog crumbled and reformed, as if something was being forcibly torn apart from the inside.

"Master?!" Graybury retreated in horror.