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"I agree with you," Cassandra said, wrinkling her nose. "But since he's collected the fake Gryffindor Sword and the Hufflepuff Cup, doesn't that mean the remaining two relics of the Founders might also be in his possession? Turned into Horcruxes?"
Harry suddenly recalled the memory of Morfin Gaunt he had seen before.
He spoke up, "It's very likely. I remember when I viewed Morfin Gaunt's memory with Professor Dumbledore, he mentioned that Merope Gaunt, Voldemort's mother, took the Slytherin Locket, a family heirloom, and sold it cheaply to Borgin's shop… Given Voldemort's personality, he probably tracked down his mother's relic, or… perhaps turned it into a Horcrux as well."
"What a devoted son, isn't he?" Cassandra remarked with biting sarcasm.
"And you?" Veratia suddenly leaned close to Harry's ear, whispering, "Are you a good boy?"
Harry's ears tingled from the warm, orchid-scented breath, and strands of her hair brushed against his face, making his cheeks flush instantly.
"We're discussing serious matters here, stop fooling around!" Harry squirmed, protesting.
When he stole a glance at Cassandra, he caught her staring at him.
Noticing Harry's gaze, Cassandra made an exaggerated gagging motion.
The message was clear: I'm going to puke.
"There's still one issue, then," Harry quickly changed the subject. "Where are Slytherin's Locket and Ravenclaw's Diadem? Since we have a preliminary theory, our next step is to find these two items. If Voldemort has turned them into Horcruxes, we'll need to destroy them…"
"Those are priceless relics, you reckless little troll," Cassandra interjected. "We're not in a rush to destroy Horcruxes. On the contrary, we should aim to preserve the Founders' relics, got it?"
"She's right, Harry," Dumbledore added. "The Founders' relics hold immense significance for Hogwarts. If there's a choice, we'd prefer to preserve them rather than destroy them outright."
"Then how do we remove the soul fragment Voldemort attached to them?" Newt asked suddenly. "Harry, how did you destroy that Horcrux of Voldemort's last year?"
Harry turned his head away.
"Harry?" Newt raised his voice slightly, thinking Harry hadn't heard him.
"With… Avada Kedavra," Harry said, clearing his throat. "And ancient magic…"
The others looked at Harry, leaning back in a mix of awe and disbelief.
Merlin's beard, that's an option?
"I think we should find some other methods, don't you agree?" Harry said, steering the conversation elsewhere. "There must be other ways besides those two."
"There's Fiendfyre," Cassandra said abruptly. "I read about Horcruxes in an old tome from my family's collection. It said Fiendfyre can destroy them."
As one of the most powerful dark magics, Fiendfyre conjures an ever-growing, malevolent flame that can take the form of monstrous creatures, relentlessly pursuing and burning nearly anything in its path—friend or foe. Even Horcruxes, notoriously difficult to destroy, cannot withstand its incinerating power.
But then again, nothing in this world is truly indestructible. Even things deemed unbreakable or invincible have some obscure vulnerability to exploit.
"Anything else?" Dumbledore asked, glancing at the Hufflepuff Cup. "There should be other ways to destroy the soul fragment without damaging the object itself."
"Well, there's the Killing Curse," Newt said, lowering his head. "I can't think of any other good options."
"And you, Mr. Flamel?" Harry turned to Nicolas Flamel, who was still absentmindedly stroking a crystal ball. "As a legendary alchemist, you must know a great deal about Horcruxes. Do you have any better ideas for destroying them?"
"Leave it to me," Flamel said, setting the crystal ball aside. "By tomorrow at the latest, I'll return a Hufflepuff Cup to you, pristine and free of any… unwanted entities."
"You have a method?" Newt asked, leaning in like a curious child.
"Oh, that's my little secret, Newt," Flamel replied, tucking the crystal ball away somewhere—exactly where, no one could tell.
Since Flamel had given his word, everyone decided to trust him. After all, no one else had a better solution.
Back in the common room, Harry overheard Ron and Hermione arguing.
"Merlin's sake, Hermione!" Ron roared. "Keep an eye on that beast of yours! It's so annoying! Scabbers is old enough as it is—he shouldn't be treated like that!"
As Harry approached, he saw Ron cradling his rat protectively, glaring at Hermione.
"Parrots don't eat rats, Ron! How many times do I have to tell you? Jack only eats nuts or seeds. Why would he go after your rat?" Hermione shot back, clutching Jack tightly, her hair practically bristling with indignation.
"It's not eating him! Look at what it did!" Ron said furiously.
"What's going on with you two?" Harry stepped in, looking concernedly at Hermione and Ron.
He casually picked up a biscuit from the table, about to pop it into his mouth, when he noticed the Weasley twins watching him with eager anticipation.
Harry immediately knew what was up. He subtly set the biscuit down and handed it to Ron. "Here, have a biscuit. Calm down a bit."
"Thanks, Harry," Ron said, completely unsuspecting. He popped the biscuit into his mouth without hesitation.
A few seconds later, yellow feathers sprouted all over his body.
"Chirp chirp chirp!"
Ron let out a series of birdlike squawks. He stood up, furiously pointing at the Weasley twins, who were doubled over with laughter, as a melodious, birdlike chatter poured from his mouth.
Yes, literal bird song, not just a figure of speech.
Hermione couldn't hold it in and burst out laughing.
"Canary Creams," the twins announced, stepping forward. "As you can see, they turn the eater into a canary—just like our dear little Ronnie here. Doesn't he look splendid?"
"Sorry, Ron," Harry said, patting Ron's shoulder and sending a puff of feathers flying. "I didn't know the biscuit was rigged… So, what happened between you and Hermione? Why were you fighting?"
Ron let out another burst of bird song, but Fred and George swooped in, one on each side, to fill Harry in.
"Scabbers has that running wheel, you know?" Fred began. "He used to scamper around in it all the time, clickety-clack, but lately, he's been a bit out of sorts and hasn't been running—"
"—and so Jack found it a bit odd," George continued. "Today, while little Ronnie was resting—"
The twins spoke in unison, "—Jack picked up Scabbers, stuffed him into the wheel, and then spun the handle for about an hour…"
Harry pictured the scene and couldn't help but laugh.
Then, feeling it was a bit inappropriate, he patted Ron's shoulder again and sighed. "I didn't mean to laugh," Harry said, before snickering again. "Unless I really couldn't help it—hahaha…"
It was a delightful evening, and Harry was in high spirits. Even the food at dinner tasted especially delicious.
Harry, Ron, and Hermione followed the other Gryffindors along their usual route to the Gryffindor Tower. But when they reached the spot where the Sphinx usually stood, they found the corridor crowded with people.
"Why isn't anyone going in?" Ron asked curiously. "Don't they want to?"
Harry peered over the crowd and saw that the Sphinx was gone, and the passage it guarded was sealed shut.
"Let me through," Percy's voice rang out. He strutted through the crowd with an air of authority. "Why are you all blocking the way? Don't tell me none of you could answer the Sphinx's riddle? Merlin's beard, can't you consult the smart students with good grades? Excuse me, I'm the Head Boy—"
"Oh, Big Head Boy," the Weasley twins chimed in unison, cutting him off.
After Percy's speech, the crowd fell silent.
But the twins' jab sparked a wave of laughter.
Percy's voice turned shrill. "Someone go to the Headmaster's office and get Professor Dumbledore! Now!"
"What's going on?" Seamus and Neville approached, curious. They'd just finished dinner—tonight's meal was so good that Neville couldn't resist having two extra slices of bread.
"The Sphinx is gone," everyone answered in unison. "We can't get into the common room!"
"Well, that's great. Let's all go wandering," Seamus said with a grin. "I never wanted to answer its stupid riddles anyway. Can I just refuse?"
"Apparently, even if you wanted to answer now, you couldn't," someone replied.
At that moment, Peeves' voice echoed through the corridor.
"Poor little Gryffindors!" he floated above, his tone dripping with glee. "The great Peeves sees a bunch of homeless little witches and wizards!"
"Shut up, Peeves!" the crowd shouted back.
"Bleh bleh bleh!" Peeves retorted, hurling chalk at the students.
Before Harry could deal with him, a translucent green figure streaked through the air.
It was Sebastian's ghost.
With a mighty roar, Sebastian tackled Peeves, pinning him against the wall.
"Sallow! Sallow!" Peeves yelped, panicking. He was genuinely afraid of this vengeful Slytherin ghost. "Let's talk this out! You can't still be mad about me snitching on you for sneaking into the Restricted Section a hundred years ago, can you?"
Peeves was referring to the time Sebastian had taught Harry the Disillusionment Charm.
Back then, Sebastian had been trying to find a way to break a dark curse in the Restricted Section to save his suffering sister, Anne. But Peeves had ratted him out, making Sebastian the library's least welcome guest and prompting the school to cast wards to keep him out.
From that day on, Sebastian had held a grudge against Peeves and even invented a spell to deal with him.
"Go get him, Mr. Sallow!" the students cheered. No one rooted for Peeves—he was universally despised.
"I'm getting pummeled, you rotten brats!" Peeves wailed, struggling.
"Ceeeeeeeb!" the Weasley twins shouted in a drawn-out cheer.
"What's going on here?" Professor Dumbledore's voice cut through the commotion.
"Sorry, Professor," Harry said. "We're watching Peeves get thrashed."
"Hey, Headmaster!" Peeves cried. "Can you get this annoying Slytherin ghost off me?"
"Mr. Sallow," Dumbledore called out.
Sebastian released Peeves and strode off proudly, telling the students to find him in the dungeons if Peeves caused trouble again.
Peeves looked utterly defeated, while the students were brimming with joy.
"Now, let me through," Dumbledore said.
The Gryffindors shuffled aside to clear a path.
"Professor McGonagall, please go to Filch at once and tell him to search the castle for the Sphinx," Dumbledore instructed, turning back. "And…"
Before he could finish, a voice rang out from the crowd.
"The Sphinx is back!" someone shouted.
The students parted, making way for the Sphinx's massive form. It wasn't in its human-faced guise but appeared with an eagle's head, strutting in triumphantly like a victorious warrior.
Everyone could see a tuft of black fur dangling from its beak.
"Someone tried to break into the Gryffindor dormitory, Headmaster," the Sphinx said, spitting out the fur and addressing Dumbledore with pride. "I'm pleased to report, sir, that I chased them off and even plucked a bit of their fur."
"Excellent news," Dumbledore said with a nod. "Thank you for your contribution to the school's safety, Sphinx."
"It's my duty," the Sphinx replied with a cheerful grin.
"Do you know who tried to break in?" Dumbledore asked.
"Do you think they'd tell me?" the Sphinx countered.
Dumbledore raised an eyebrow but didn't press further.
He had a hunch about who had tried to force their way into the Gryffindor common room.
After a moment's thought, Dumbledore instructed all Gryffindor students to return to the Great Hall. Ten minutes later, students from Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin joined them, looking utterly confused.
Whispers filled the hall as students speculated about why the Headmaster had gathered them all together.
Was he about to announce something important? Some even irresponsibly guessed that Dumbledore might be declaring an early Christmas holiday.
Yeah, dream on.
Once everyone was settled, Dumbledore raised his hand.
The hall fell silent instantly.
"The professors and I will conduct a thorough search of the castle," Dumbledore announced as Professors McGonagall and Flitwick sealed the Great Hall's doors. "For your safety, you may need to spend the night here. I ask that the prefects stand guard at the entrances, and the Head Boy and Girl remain in the hall to maintain order. Report any issues to me immediately—"
He directed this last part at Percy, who puffed up with self-important pride.
"—through a ghost," Dumbledore added.
"Look at that, Big Head Boy's special privileges," Fred muttered. "The student with the biggest head in the Headmaster's eyes…"
A nearby student couldn't help but snicker.
Dumbledore paused, glancing toward the laughter but saying nothing.
He turned to leave the hall, then paused again. "Oh, and one more thing—you'll need—"
With a casual flick of his wand, the long tables slid to the sides of the hall, lining up against the walls. Another flick, and the floor was covered with hundreds of purple sleeping bags.
"—something to help you sleep comfortably in the Great Hall," Dumbledore said with a wink before exiting.
As Headmaster, he never forgot to close the door behind him.
The Great Hall erupted into excited chatter, buzzing with energy.
With the professors gone, the students were left unsupervised. The Gryffindors were busy recounting the incident to the others, while those who hadn't been there listened with eager fascination.
When word spread that Sirius Black had tried to break into the Gryffindor common room, excitement rippled through the crowd.
Everyone had heard of Sirius Black. They turned to Harry, wondering what would happen if he encountered the man supposedly hunting him.
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