HP: Wormwood and Lightning Wood

The fat old man stood up, puffing out his beard and glaring, "Can't you be a little nicer to an old man like me? You scared me to death..."

His gaze shifted from West to the man who had criticized his Transfiguration skills, "I don't know how this kid found me, but my Transfiguration is quite excellent..."

Slughorn's eyes widened, his nostrils flared violently, and his two white beards trembled with his rapid breathing. "Gege, Green—" His knees buckled, and he almost squatted down again.

"Alright, Horace, would you like me to help you pack?" Dumbledore interrupted Slughorn with a sly smile and asked politely.

"...Please." Horace cautiously stepped into the corner, and together with Dumbledore, waved his wand, and the room returned to normal.

Slughorn looked somewhat timid and asked, "Albus, what brings you here?" His shrewd gaze swept across the four of them, finally settling on the lightning bolt-shaped scar on Harry's forehead. "Hmph!"

"Let me introduce you, this is Harry Potter, and this—" Dumbledore began, glancing at Gellert, "I think you're familiar with him, Horace?"

Grindelwald glanced lightly at Slughorn, whose plump body shuddered.

"This is West Somerset, the head of the Somerset family."

Slughorn's eyes widened suddenly as he stared at West. "Is it the Somerset I'm thinking of?"

"Yes, Horace," said Dumbledore.

Slughorn turned to Dumbledore, a shrewd look on his face. He thought for a moment, then said, "Do you think you can convince me with that? Albus, I'm old, I need to think about myself..."

West took a few steps forward and said impatiently, "In short, do you know how many Horcruxes Voldemort actually created?"

Slughorn shuddered, his well-maintained face turning slightly pale as he stared at West in horror.

Dumbledore chuckled dryly, not expecting West to be so direct, while Grindelwald looked on with admiration.

"You know." West stared into Slughorn's eyes, his deep, round green pupils shrinking into thin vertical lines in the shadows, like a resurrected serpent, invading another's thoughts without any restraint.

Slughorn shuddered, convinced that the boy before him was indeed a member of the Somerset family. The Somerset family possessed serpent blood, and their eyes could bewitch minds and read thoughts.

"Slughorn, is it? I don't have time to waste on you," West said. "I have plenty of ways to access your memories."

Slughorn's pupils constricted sharply. "You..."

Dumbledore intervened at the opportune moment, "Horace, I cordially invite you to return to Hogwarts to teach. We swear to protect you," he winked, "West and Harry are currently studying at Hogwarts."

Seeing Slughorn's hesitation, West narrowed his eyes and raised his wand, the black mist rising from the tip of the wand darting out like a living snake.

"Fine, fine, I'll do it!" Slughorn gritted his teeth, avoiding West's gaze. "I must be crazy. I was coerced by you... I'll demand a raise, Dumbledore."

His back was soaked with sweat. He couldn't understand why this teenager, who was about the same age as Tom Riddle, could give off such a terrifying sense of oppression.

Dumbledore laughed heartily.

Slughorn sighed and pulled a memory bottle from a drawer. He used his wand to draw a strand of silvery memory from his temple and placed it into the bottle.

"There's what you want inside," he said. "Take it, let me have some dignity."

Slughorn looked at Harry again. "You have your mother's eyes, Harry. She was my favorite student..." As he said this, Slughorn glanced at West with a puzzled look, and inexplicably felt that West looked somewhat like Lily.

"Excellent," Dumbledore said, taking the memory bottle with obvious delight. "Then, Horace, see you on September 1st."

Even Dumbledore hadn't expected the trip to go so smoothly. When they returned to Somerset Manor, it was late at night, but none of them felt sleepy.

West lifted the tapestry embroidered with the ink serpent seal, revealing the Pensieve on the cabinet. He poured his memories into it.

As West leaned forward, he felt a pulling and falling sensation as he entered Slughorn's memories.

Slughorn, much younger than he was, sat in a soft chair, sipping his drink, while picking through a box of pineapple preserves with his other hand. Six or seven boys in their teens sat around him.

Harry recognized Tom Riddle and pointed him out to West—Riddle was sitting among the boys, Marvolo's black gemstone ring gleaming on his hand, and the boys around him looked at him with admiration and awe.

They were talking, the atmosphere lively. The little golden clock on the table struck eleven, and the other students left one after another, until only Tom Riddle remained.

Slughorn asked, puzzled, "Tom, aren't you leaving yet?"

"Sir, I have something to ask you—about Horcruxes," Riddle said.

Slughorn's eyes widened, his fingers tracing the bottle. "Tom, this is something truly wicked..."

The two discussed Horcruxes for a while. Slughorn was uneasy but didn't stop the conversation until Tom Riddle greedily said, "Is one Horcrux really that useful? Can't a soul only split once? Wouldn't it be better to split it into several pieces, making you more powerful? For example, isn't seven the most magical number, seven..."

"My Merlin! Tom!" Slughorn cried, his voice trembling. "Seven! Isn't wanting to kill one person evil enough...?"

He stared at Riddle as if he had never met the student before. He was already beginning to regret participating in this conversation.

After reviewing the memories, West pulled himself out of the Pensieve and said coldly, "Voldemort created six Horcruxes."

"It seems so," Dumbledore sighed, "which confirms my suspicions."

Harry stared in disbelief, his face blank. "This madman..."

"A diary, a Ravenclaw tiara, a Hufflepuff chalice," West murmured. "He seems to enjoy searching for things of sentimental value."

"So, he also turned the Slytherin locket and the Marvolo ring into Horcruxes, and what's the other one?"

"These still require further investigation," Dumbledore said with a grave expression.

Vester nodded. "I will use the family's connections to find out all of Voldemort's past activities. The Horcruxes should be destroyed as soon as possible."

Voldemort is about to be resurrected; only by completely destroying the Horcruxes can he be truly killed.

"Well done, West," said Dumbledore.

"Then it's settled. It's late, you and Mr. Hope may leave now," West said coolly.

Dumbledore stroked his beard, chuckled, and turned to leave. "Let's go, Gale. These young folks don't really welcome us..."

Grindelwald followed behind Dumbledore, chuckling softly as he asked, "Want to come to my house? Al, I have a few properties in England..."