Days at Hogwarts

Chapter 161 Night Talk

After the banquet, the presiding officers of each college led the new students back to the lounge and took the time to introduce them to some basic information, such as passwords, courses, etc.

Regarding the Horcrux diary and the conversation with Voldemort, Loren felt he should inform Dumbledore.

He had many questions he wanted to ask Dumbledore—about Morgan, about the gods, about the sages. Questions he hadn't answered with Flamel, perhaps Dumbledore would know.

There's also the Basilisk in the Chamber of Secrets. According to the original plot, the diary would control Ginny to release the Basilisk and create panic. Although the diary is now completely gone, there are still dangerous creatures in Hogwarts Castle, so it's best to notify the Headmaster to deal with them.

Loren followed the group to the headmaster's office, intending to leave once they reached the seventh floor, as it was conveniently located on the way back to the Gryffindor common room.

"If you don't want to get yelled at on your first day, you'd better get up an hour earlier." Percy introduced the school with a blank expression, and his stern face made the freshmen feel that the prefect was in a bad mood.

"What's wrong with Percy? He wasn't like this when he introduced him last year." Loren patted Seamo on the shoulder.

"Didn't you know!" Seamus leaned in, his voice trembling with excitement. "Harry and Ron drove a flying car to school, and they were even in the newspapers!"

Dean chimed in, "This is just... so cool!"

"Wait, wait a minute," Hermione, standing nearby, was a little slow to react and couldn't quite keep up with their train of thought. "What's so cool about this? It means Gryffindor is going to lose points right at the start of the school year!"

Seamus and Dean gave Hermione a strange look, but considering she was the school's top scorer, they didn't say anything more. They sighed deeply and turned to share their joy with the others.

Hermione looked completely bewildered: "Weren't Percy and I reacting normally? Why do they think it's cool to lose points?"

How could Loren possibly answer that? He could only pat Hermione on the shoulder in a gesture of comfort.

"Hey, what do you mean by that?"

"Do you think this is cool too...?"

Hermione continued her grumbling all the way up to the 7th floor, to the entrance of the Gryffindor common room, and then Loren slipped away.

The principal's office is on the 8th floor of the castle.

Dumbledore was used to having a cup of hot cocoa after dinner, which helped him fall asleep faster; he figured he'd be asleep before dawn anyway. He'd see if he could catch up on the rest of his sleep when Minerva gave her her report.

Shouldn't the vice principal share the principal's burdens and solve their problems?

Dumbledore added a few more spoonfuls of honey to the hot cocoa, stirring clockwise with anticipation. He knew it would taste best when the hot cocoa cooled slightly, just above body temperature and warm to the touch.

boom!

Loren pushed open the office door and walked in, his steps even carrying a hint of arrogance. He casually sat down in the chair, looked at Dumbledore, and said nothing.

There was so much to say, but when Loren finally sat down in front of Dumbledore, he didn't know where to begin. His smooth and domineering aura faltered, and he suddenly stopped.

To conceal his knowledge of the plot while logically explaining the diary and the Basilisk to Dumbledore, he needed to think carefully about how to say it.

Fox leaned against his shelf, preening the feathers under his wings with his beak. The portraits of past principals on the wall had all been turned over; they were already resting.

Dumbledore, dressed in a dark gray, wide-sleeved robe and wearing a pointed wizard's hat with semi-circular spectacles perched on his nose, looked down and glanced over the top of his glasses. He spoke in an old-fashioned tone, "For an old man, the evening is very precious. So, Loren, if you have something to say, say it quickly."

"I'm wondering where to begin, hmm..." Loren pondered for a moment.

Dumbledore ran his fingers along the rim of the cup, felt it, and sighed almost imperceptibly... Ah, it's already past its perfect temperature, oh well.

He added another sugar cube and stirred it continuously with a spoon to help it dissolve faster.

"The day we went to Diagon Alley to prepare our school supplies, Lucius slipped something into Ginny's books, and I discovered it." Loren looked up at Dumbledore.

"Well, because the ownership change at Hogwarts coincides with the new Muggle Protection Act, Lucius should be eager to deal with some," Dumbledore paused, "some items that are not so easy to handle. Although Arthur is in charge of the inventory, involving a child in this is going too far."

"This is a diary that can talk to me; it belongs to Tom Riddle from fifty years ago," Loren said as calmly as possible.

Dumbledore's spoon struck the rim of the cup with a clear sound. He was certain it was another Horcrux; Voldemort had indeed created more than one.

"After a complex intellectual struggle, I learned something from the diary. It accessed my memories and was then burned to ashes by Abraham's curse."

Setting the spoon aside, Dumbledore glanced at Loren. There were too many strange things about what he was saying, but he didn't ask and listened quietly to what he would say next.

"Through the girls' restroom on the second floor, you can use Parseltongue to open the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets in Slytherin, where a thousand-year-old basilisk sleeps." Loren saw Dumbledore pick up his hot cocoa and take a small sip.

Hidden behind the cup and the lens, Dumbledore was not as calm as he appeared. His eyes gleamed as he unearthed distant memories and suddenly made sense of many things.

Myrtle, who died fifty years ago; Hagrid, who was wrongly accused; and Tom, who had Slytherin blood flowing through his veins at that time. All these events are connected in one thread.

Dumbledore looked at Loren's casual sitting posture and his still childish face, and then thought of Harry and Ron, who had just caused trouble earlier that day. They were still too young and needed to grow up.

Basilisk, and coincidentally Harry also speaks Parsley.

The old headmaster said calmly, "Don't worry, the basilisk matter will be handled. Hogwarts has a responsibility to protect every student on campus."

"Headmaster Dumbledore, I have some questions for you." Loren wasn't very confident; what Flamel hadn't said, the headmaster might also choose to keep secret.

"The diary said something tempting, claiming I was a descendant of Morgan, a sage of the era, and that I could become a god and attain eternal life alongside him. I want to ask: Who is Morgan? What is a sage? And what is a god?"

Tap, tap, tap... Dumbledore's fingers tapped lightly on the armrest of the chair, and he could imagine the scene.

Even though he was cursed and on the verge of annihilation, even though the diary might only contain Voldemort's memories from his youth, he still seized every opportunity to pave the way for himself before his death.

Whether Loren agrees or not, it will plant a seed in his heart.

"If you'd like, I'd like to know how he seduced you," Dumbledore said slowly. He added, "It's just an old man's curiosity, if you don't want to talk about it..."

There's nothing wrong with saying it. If you can't even say it to Dumbledore, then who should you say it to?

Loren readily agreed: "He said that some people are born noble, destined to lead the times, to lead wizards to rule Muggles, and to lead humanity to a more glorious era. He wants me to join him, become a god, gain immortality, and set the rules."

"Oh?" Dumbledore thought that 16-year-old Tom was more rational than Voldemort later on. He didn't use any power, pure-blood honor, or strong strength, but a grander temptation.

"So, Loren, what are your thoughts on wizards and Muggles, on immortality and gods?" Dumbledore looked into Loren's eyes.

Loren waved his hand impatiently: "What do Muggles and wizards have to do with me? Just thinking about it is a hassle. Immortality and gods sound even more complicated. Isn't it more comfortable to make some money, eat and drink every day, and be happy?"

Hermione's concerns, her constant worry, and those social science books—just looking at them gives me a headache.

Upon hearing this answer, Dumbledore couldn't help but laugh out loud, his laughter echoing throughout the office.

This was Loren's true thought, something he could discern even without Legilimency. It was precisely because of this that Dumbledore laughed even more heartily. Only when some of the portraits began to curse and Fawkes threatened to breathe fire at his beard did Dumbledore stop.

"If everyone thought that way, that would be great."

Dumbledore's mood lightened, and he pushed his glasses up his nose. "The matter of gods is complicated and cannot be explained in a short time. But I can tell you that there are many legends about gods throughout history, and they are just legends."

Just when Loren thought Dumbledore was going to brush him off again, Dumbledore said:

"The Philosopher's Stone is also known as the Philosopher's Stone, and those who can forge it are called sages. Legend has it that sages are born in special times and have a great impact on the world."

Will he have an impact on the world...? Loren was unsure. Would changing many plot points count as an impact? But could he be considered a sage?

"As for Morgan, she was a wizard from the same era as Merlin. We called her Fairy Morgan, and I remember there used to be chocolate frog cards of her. Nobody knows where she came from. Some legends say she studied magic with Merlin, while others say she was Merlin's apprentice. Fairy Morgan had a special connection with the mermaid race. When I was learning the mermaid language, I talked to their elders about it."

"Morgan was a skilled transmigrator, an expert in medicine and prophecy. She had a serious argument with Merlin, and after that, she disappeared from history."

After saying that, Dumbledore picked up his cup and took a big gulp of the now-cold hot cocoa.

"What does this have to do with me?" Loren asked curiously.

"You know I'm not omniscient or omnipotent, and I can't answer that for you. You'll probably have to find the answer yourself..."

After finishing their business, the two chatted for a few more minutes before Loren suggested leaving.

As Dumbledore watched Loren's retreating figure disappear, a peculiar thought suddenly popped into his mind: "Loren!"

"Um?"

Loren turned to look at the old headmaster in the candlelight. His white beard and wrinkled face commanded respect from a distance; only from a little further away would people realize that this old wizard was over a hundred years old, very, very old.

"I need you to come with me to a place in a while. I need your help," Dumbledore said.

Voldemort started creating Horcruxes a long time ago, and returning to that place would surely reveal some clues. Whether it's Ravenclaw's tiara or the diary, Loren always seems to encounter Horcruxes.

Dumbledore didn't believe in fate, but why not give it a try?

"Got it!" Loren waved and turned his back.

……

Do all older people have a talent for riddles...? Loren muttered under his breath as he walked back to the Gryffindor common room down the corridor.

Dumbledore didn't say nothing, but what he did say was as good as nothing at all.

Upon entering the lounge, Hermione looked both angry and frustrated, her cheeks puffed out, which was strangely endearing.

He reached out and poked the small bump on the girl's cheek; it was soft. Before she could react, Loren asked curiously, "I thought you were going to give them a good scolding. What are you doing now?"

"Ask them!" Hermione snapped.

Harry and Ron slumped on the sofa, flattening their stomachs to make themselves feel better.

"Don't even mention it." Harry waved his hand helplessly. "Snape wouldn't let us go back to the banquet. He left us a plate of chicken and ham sandwiches and pumpkin juice in the common room. The sandwiches would be replenished automatically when we finished them."

"Isn't this a good thing? I thought he would punish you."

Ron continued in a pained voice, "That's what we thought too. We thought the sandwiches were punishment, and we could only come back after we finished them."

"Then they kept eating until they couldn't eat anymore, their stomachs were about to burst," Hermione said helplessly, clearly worried about the two men's intelligence.

Because of their condition, the party George and Fred had prepared for them was canceled. Professor McGonagall, seeing their miserable state, had Snape give them a potion, postponing the punishment.

"If you ask me, that potion was punishment." Harry's eyes were vacant. "You can't even imagine what it tasted like. It was like cheese that had been sitting out all summer, then fermenting with pickles, and finally being reduced to a tiny sip."

Hermione couldn't hold back any longer: "If you two had been a little smarter after realizing you couldn't get onto the platform, and had used an owl to notify the professor, things wouldn't have turned out like this."

Harry and Ron pretended not to hear, slumped onto the sofa, and occasionally let out a weak groan.

Neither of them paid attention to Hermione's words. After a year together, they had long since realized that Hermione's words of concern, once spoken, would sound unpleasant. Ignore the words, just feel the sentiment.

"Never mind them, go back to sleep first—" Loren put his hands on Hermione's shoulders and pushed her all the way to the stairwell.

"But!" Hermione turned back again.

"I'll take them back to their dorm once they're feeling better. You go to sleep now—" Loren drawled out.

"Okay, here you go." Hermione stuffed a piece of parchment into his hand and went upstairs to her dorm.

Loren opened the parchment, on which was drawn a table, filled in with the course schedule for the academic year according to the time. As if knowing he was too lazy to do these things, the class times and which floor the classroom was on were also marked.

Looking at the neat and beautiful handwriting, Loren couldn't help but smile.

The new school year has begun.

(End of this chapter)