A Certain Magical Hogwarts

Chapter 640 R. A. B

Fox eventually came back to pick up William.

William saw right through its little scheme.

Christmas is just around the corner, and I'm worried I won't give it a Christmas present.

William sends it a lot of snacks every year, with flavors from all over the world.

This heartless creature, the only treat William gave it this year was some fried snail poop.

Everyone who's tried fried whelks says they're delicious; maybe Fox will like them too.

Upon arriving at the island, William looked around.

This smooth, rocky islet, only the size of the principal's office, is empty on all sides, with a stone basin in the middle.

The stone basin was filled with a bright green liquid that shimmered with phosphorescence.

The three of them walked over, stood in front of the stone basin, and looked at the green liquid.

"It seems that it automatically refills every now and then," William observed for a while and said.

According to Harry's dream, Tom had drunk the potion. But now, the liquid was filling the stone basin again.

Dumbledore stretched out his right hand, his fingertips touching the liquid.

"I can't reach it, so I can't extend my hand any further." He smiled with interest. "You two should try it too."

William reached out, and he could clearly feel an invisible resistance. No matter how hard he pressed his hand down, his fingers seemed to touch only the incredibly hard and unbreakable air.

Voldemort's "high-tech"... he really has a lot. The location of this Horcrux's hiding place is probably one of his proudest creations.

Why did Tom become the Black King? Why can't he just study magic properly and pursue a promising career as a magician?

So, as I always say: the Dark Lord's idea was great, but the next one could be William's.

Dumbledore raised his wand and made some complex movements on the surface of the liquid, silently chanting a spell.

But nothing happened; the only difference was that the light emitted by the liquid seemed to be a little brighter.

"It cannot be touched by hand, nor can it be separated by the Vanishing Charm, nor can it be made to disappear by magic, nor can its nature be altered by any other means," Dumbledore muttered to himself.

"What if we scoop out the liquid and pour it away?" Hermione asked after a moment's thought.

William raised his wand, spun it in the air, and conjured a tall crystal goblet in his hand.

He placed the crystal glass into the liquid, and the glass sank immediately, becoming soaked with a large amount of potion.

The hand cannot touch it, but the object can sink into it.

The goblet was quickly filled with potion, and the liquid in the stone basin decreased slightly.

William took out the cup and poured the liquid onto the ground.

Hermione kept staring at the stone basin, then shook her head and said, "The liquid in the basin has returned to normal."

It seems that pouring the water out won't work either; it will automatically restore the water level.

William thought for a moment and decided to find a larger container to scoop out all the liquid at once.

He conjured up a large porcelain jar and placed it back into the stone basin.

However, only a portion of the liquid entered the porcelain jar before it could be filled with more.

"It seems that only a fixed volume of solution can be taken out at a time," Hermione analyzed.

"If these potions aren't drunk, we can't continue extracting liquid. If we pour them elsewhere, the water level in the stone basin will return to normal."

She rested her chin on her hand and speculated:

"I think... if the potion is taken away with a cup and not drunk for a long time, the water level in the stone basin will automatically return to normal."

"That should be it," William said, squinting. "To obtain the Horcrux, the only option is to drink it."

They were all prepared that if there were other options, Tom wouldn't choose to drink the potion.

Voldemort had clearly considered all the loopholes.

William and Hermione found no clues, while Dumbledore stared at the stone basin, his face reflected in the smooth green liquid.

The principal said slowly:

"Without a doubt, this drug will likely paralyze the user, cause extreme pain, make it impossible for them to concentrate, and make them forget the purpose of their visit."

Or, lose capacity in other ways.

"A wizard who loses his powers will be killed by the undead in the lake," William exclaimed. "This protective mechanism... is quite ingeniously designed."

Hermione nodded as well.

"Then, someone needs to take it, the kind that won't kill them," William said, glancing at Fox.

It immediately bristled, and after a flash of fire, it vanished without a trace.

"..."

What a coward, just like Ya Ya.

William was just saying it; he certainly wouldn't actually drink the potion.

Although Fox can be reborn, he is Dumbledore's little pet.

And it was impossible for the three of them to drink such a potion.

Besides, William carried a large number of small animals with him.

After thinking for a moment, he chose Hagrid's daughter, the Blasttail, from among the many magical creatures.

The tamarin is great; it's sturdy and robust, and most importantly... I don't know what it's good for.

So, it's you I've decided on—the blasting snail!

William pulled out the shriveled snail, which lay drowsily on the ground, looking listless and completely drained.

It had too much blood drawn and had taken sleeping pills, so it was indeed a bit listless.

"Here, have something to drink, sweetie, you'll feel better after you drink." William shoved the cup into the mouth of the frizzy-tailed snail.

He's like that creepy old man in the bar who tries to get young girls drunk, just waiting to pick them up after they're completely intoxicated.

If the fried snails refuse, he has a solution—an enema!

The conch eventually drank it, letting out a weak cry.

Its usual calls are quite unpleasant, so it's impossible to tell whether it's enjoying its drink or feeling unwell.

William assumed it was the former, and so he drank one cup after another without stopping.

The slug wagged its tail, trying to stab William's arm, but its whole body was numb, and its stiff tail went limp.

It lay on the ground, looking at William with fear in its eyes.

demon!

This is the Demon King!

Hagrid, come save me!

The frizzy-tailed snail gradually changed from fierce to adorable.

After downing more than a dozen cups of magic potion, the stone basin was finally empty.

Dumbledore retrieved a locket from under the stone basin and stuffed it into his robe.

"We can go back now," he said.

William put away the blasted-tail snail, poured the last bit of the potion into a goblet, and prepared to go back and study its ingredients.

If conditions allowed, he would have packed up the stone basin and the bronze boat and taken them with him.

These things may have once belonged to Voldemort... but they will all eventually become William's.

Dumbledore snapped his fingers, and Fawkes appeared with a snap. He grabbed the three of them, and a flash of fire disappeared in the blink of an eye.

William landed quickly on the ground. He looked up and found himself back in the warm principal's office.

Dumbledore placed the locket on the table, and the old headmasters stopped pretending to be asleep, all opening their eyes and whispering among themselves.

Phineas Black even put on a monocle, trying to peer out with great curiosity.

William stared at the locket, his brow furrowing slightly. His intuition told him something was amiss.

He has already handled two Horcruxes and can be considered a veteran of many battles.

But this locket feels different from the Ravenclaw tiara; it doesn't have that cold, gloomy feel.

Dumbledore sat in the chair and turned the locket over.

The locket looked ordinary, without any markings. He opened it gently and found nothing inside except a tightly folded piece of parchment.

The headmaster took out the parchment, opened it, and read:

To the Dark Lord:

I died long before you read this. But I want you to know that I discovered your secret.

I stole the real Horcrux and intend to destroy it as soon as possible. I'm risking my life so that you'll be killed when you meet your match.

R. A. B.

"The Dark Lord... a Death Eater stole Voldemort's Horcruxes," William said slowly, staring at the parchment.

Only Death Eaters would call Voldemort the Dark Lord.

"It seems so." Dumbledore stretched out his long fingers and gently touched the last signature.

"R.A.B..." Hermione repeated, thinking about those famous wizards.

She tapped her head, and, with her excellent memory, replied:

"Rosalind Antigonus Bangus...Rupert Axbank Brookstanton...These are the only two famous wizards I can think of right now."

"They don't match up at all. These people aren't Death Eaters..." William shook his head.

"Yes, yes," Hermione said, troubled.

Phineas in the portrait suddenly said:

"Among pure-blood families, only the Black family usually has the initials B... I always sign my name as P.N.B."

Dumbledore's brow relaxed, and he nodded. "Then it's clear. As far as I know, only one wizard from the Black family has become a Death Eater..."

"Sirius's younger brother—Regulus Arcturus Black!"

……

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(End of this chapter)