"Whether Harry is one of the Horcruxes?" Victor raised an eyebrow. "Professor, you know the answer to that already."
"While I don't know the specific details of what happened that night, if you think about it, no matter how many Horcruxes Voldemort had made, a part of his soul was definitely there in Godric's Hollow. After he was mortally wounded by Harry's mother sacrificing her life for him, where do you think that piece of his soul went?"
"Did someone cut that scar onto Harry's forehead?"
Victor was right. When he had first revealed that the diadem of Ravenclaw was a Horcrux, Dumbledore had already suspected that Harry was one as well. His question was merely a way to confirm his suspicions.
This, however, put him in an extremely difficult position. If Harry was a Horcrux, then for Voldemort to be completely destroyed, Harry would have to die. Was this what the prophecy of the "Chosen One" meant? To sacrifice a child, to have his life as the price for saving the world? Facing this situation, even a wizard as seasoned as Dumbledore found himself at a loss.
Standing there, Victor saw Dumbledore suddenly fall silent. He called out a couple of times, "Professor? Professor?" but got no response. So Victor shook his head and decided to leave Dumbledore to his thoughts. He walked straight to the shelf behind Dumbledore's desk and used magic to take down the Sorting Hat.
"Wake up, you old hat! Wake up!" Victor grabbed the hat and shook it vigorously, rousing it from its sleep.
"Stop that, you dreadful little wizard!" the Sorting Hat said, twisting its brim. "I should've put you in Azkaban!"
"Azkaban? You're all talk. At the end of the day, you're just a broken old hat!"
"You're a broken old hat, and so is your whole family! The master I served was Godric Gryffindor, the finest duelist of his time! The four founders of Hogwarts infused me with their knowledge. I am the greatest hat in the world!"
"I'll believe that last part. The way you're so full of misplaced pride and arrogance is, I have to say, a lot like the little snakes in Slytherin today."
"You dreadful little…"
What followed was several minutes of what could only be described as a childish argument between Victor and the Sorting Hat. After a few minutes, Victor suddenly realized he had forgotten his purpose and stopped.
"Enough! Enough! I almost forgot what I came here for. You old hat, you recognize this, don't you?"
"You… hmm?" The Sorting Hat was about to retort when it saw the diadem. It immediately swallowed its insults and fell silent. The tip of its brim pointed at the diadem and bobbed up and down, looking like a person bowing, and the wrinkles on its face deepened.
"You do recognize it, don't you?" Victor said with certainty when the Sorting Hat fell silent. "Can you tell me about Rowena Ravenclaw? Besides the diadem, did she leave anything else at Hogwarts or elsewhere?"
"You little rascal, you're not the first person to try to find the four founders' legacies since the founding of Hogwarts!" the Sorting Hat said, suddenly becoming serious. "But they all failed without exception. You are the only one, in over a thousand years, to appear before me with an item I cannot refuse, and ask me about the legacy."
"I'm the first?" Victor was a little confused. He pointed to the glass case nearby. "Then what is this? I can't believe no one has ever held this sword and asked about Gryffindor's legacy. At the very least, I'd bet that man standing right there has asked about it." He pointed to Dumbledore, who was still in a daze.
"Gryffindor is special…" When it came to its master, Gryffindor, the Sorting Hat paused, as if it didn't want to continue the conversation. "Rascal, though you hold the token, I am but a clue left to posterity by the four founders. How you find Rowena's legacy is up to you.
"The four Houses and their creators maintained a firm and sincere friendship. They were like four pillars, holding up Hogwarts. The teaching here was joyous and harmonious, but the flaws and terrors of human nature were like a demon."
The Sorting Hat suddenly began to sing softly.
"Brave Gryffindor, from the desolate fen. Beautiful Ravenclaw, from the quiet riverbank. Kind Hufflepuff, from the open vale. And clever Slytherin, from the marshy bog. Go find the one who knows all of Hogwarts's history; he will guide you forward."
After singing, the Sorting Hat left with those final words, then fell silent, reverting back to its original state as a simple hat.
Victor carefully placed the Sorting Hat back on the shelf and began to ponder. He had a pretty good idea who the person who knew all of Hogwarts's history was. But more than that, Victor was more interested in the brief, cryptic song the Sorting Hat had hummed in the middle.
The first part was full of deep meaning, and the second was about the origins of the four founders.
What was most striking was the phrase "firm and sincere friendship" in the first part of the song. Legend had it that Salazar Slytherin left Hogwarts because of a disagreement with the other three founders. But this simple verse seemed to hint at a truth that had been lost to history.
Victor decided to put the issue of the song aside for now. Now that he had a vital clue about the founder's legacy, he wanted to go and find the person who knew all of history immediately.
So, Victor turned to look at Dumbledore, intending to say goodbye before he left. But in the less than ten minutes Victor had been talking to the Sorting Hat, Dumbledore had already recovered from his state of deep thought and was nonchalantly eating Bertie Bott's Every-Flavour Beans.
"Oh, my heavens! Earwax!" Dumbledore said with a look of disgust, throwing the bean back onto the plate. He looked up and saw that Victor had finished talking to the Sorting Hat. "Mr. Dreyar, would you like to try one?"
"No, thank you, Professor Dumbledore. I'm not hungry right now," Victor immediately declined. The old coot was up to no good! Ever since he had a cockroach-flavored Every-Flavour Bean, he had sworn never to touch them again.
"Oh, what a shame," Dumbledore said, a hint of regret in his voice. But he quickly regained his composure. "Mr. Dreyar, I will help you find a way to resolve the issue with the diadem of Ravenclaw, but I also sincerely hope that if you find a solution before I do, you will share it with me."
Victor saw the guilt that Dumbledore was trying so hard to hide in his eyes. He nodded. "Of course, Professor Dumbledore."
"Thank you…"
By the time he left the headmaster's office, it was already evening.
Victor stood in the corridor and looked out at the sky.
As far as the eye could see, there were mountains and valleys. The clouds had parted, and the golden sunlight shone through the remaining clouds, setting the entire sky ablaze.
The Great Lake in the valley had turned into a mirror, reflecting the sky and the Hogwarts castle, creating a fantastical, dream-like scene.
It had been a long time since Victor had seen such a magnificent sunset, and he couldn't help but stop and admire the rare beauty before him.
Meanwhile, in the Gryffindor common room, where Gryffindor students studied and relaxed, it was filled with plush armchairs, tables, and a notice board with school announcements, advertisements, and posters. The windows offered a view of the school grounds, and a large fireplace took up an entire wall.
The chain of suspicion was now extending, and it seemed that two little lions had not taken Hagrid's words to heart.
"No! That's impossible!" Hermione said with absolute certainty. "The idea that Victor is involved with Voldemort is preposterous!"
"Hermione, keep your voice down! We promised Hagrid we wouldn't tell anyone else!" Ron whispered.
"But you told me!" Hermione shot him a look.
"Harry and I just wanted to warn you because you're close to Dreyar!" Ron said, acting self-righteous. "We're just looking out for you. What if you get in trouble?"
"I think you two speculating about people is more dangerous! And what makes you say that anyway?" Hermione asked aggressively.
"Dreyar… he's suspicious. I'm certain the diadem he found in that room on the eighth floor is related to Voldemort," Harry said, starting a little hesitantly but gaining confidence as he went on. "Dreyar knew that only I could find that diadem. If it was just about finding an object, he could've asked anyone. Or used magic. If there was nothing wrong with the diadem, he wouldn't have needed my help at all!"
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