manynovel Chapter 176 Another Conversation in the Principal's Office
Chapter 176 Another Conversation in the Principal's Office
Chapter 176 Another Conversation in the Principal's Office
After Karen gave the command from last time, the stone beast at the entrance to the principal's office slowly rotated and rose up with a low rumble, revealing the spiral staircase behind it.
Karen stepped onto the spiral staircase, his heart pounding steadily and powerfully in his chest. He clutched the lead box that sealed the Shadow Bottle tightly in his hand, his fingertips able to feel the chilling malice emanating from within, though it was impenetrable. The staircase carried him slowly upward.
As the staircase stopped spinning and the oak doors slid silently open, Cullen saw the familiar round office. In the portraits of past headmasters on the walls, they were all just waking up at this hour, curiously observing the visiting Ravenclaw second-year student and whispering amongst themselves. Dumbledore, meanwhile, sat behind his large desk, calmly watching Cullen enter.
His face showed no surprise, only a deep, all-knowing tranquility. Karen felt this scene was strangely familiar.
It seems to be the same every time he comes; Dumbledore is always so calm and composed.
"Good afternoon, Cullen." Dumbledore's voice was gentle, like flowing moonlight. "At lunch earlier, Felius told me that you had made an exciting breakthrough on the Quidditch Eye of the Record project. Is there anything I can help you with today? Please have a seat." He gestured to a comfortable armchair opposite the desk.
"Good afternoon, Headmaster." Cullen bowed slightly, not sitting down immediately. He walked to the desk and gently placed the heavy lead box on the smooth surface with a dull thud. "Please forgive my intrusion, but I have not come here for Quidditch. There is indeed progress on the Eye of the Quidditch record, but that is not the reason I urgently need to see you." His gaze met Dumbledore's, his grey-blue eyes appearing exceptionally clear and sharp in the moonlight.
Dumbledore's gaze fell on the lead box covered in sealing runes. Sensing the malice emanating from it, his blue eyes behind his glasses narrowed slightly, a knowing glint in them. "Nicole sent me a brief message not long ago," he began slowly, his voice still calm but now tinged with seriousness, "He mentioned that you might soon be attempting a—extremely challenging observational task."
It seems your actions and results have once again exceeded my expectations, Karen.
Karen didn't deny it. He nodded, his fingers tracing the surface of the lead box. "Yes, Headmaster. With the help of the tools provided by Teacher Nico and some—minor external stimuli—we successfully captured, in a public place, at a safe distance, extremely small fragments of the soul that escaped during a violent emotional outburst from the target." He deliberately emphasized the words "public place," "safe distance," and "minor."
He carefully opened the clasp of the lead box, removing the outer seal. The crystal observation container lay quietly inside, the Shadow Bottle clearly visible. Karen didn't take it out, but pointed to a few strands of black thread near the bottle's opening, still emitting an ominous glow under the effects of the revealing powder. "This is it. We call it 'Fragments,' but its essence is extremely filthy and unstable. Its internal structure," he carefully chose his words, trying to use intuitive descriptions rather than theories, "in my observation, presents a fragmented state of being forcibly torn apart and then glued back together with the most vicious forces, filled with violent cracks and an aura of decay. More importantly, at its core lies a twisted survival instinct, like the most stubborn parasite."
Dumbledore stood up, walked to his desk, and bent down to examine the bottle in the crystal container closely. His eyes were now so sharp they seemed to pierce through the bottle, staring directly at the few writhing black threads. The air in the office seemed to freeze; even the clanging of silverware subsided. Fawkes stirred on his perch, emitting a barely audible hum.
"Forced tearing and gluing." Dumbledore murmured, straightening up. His usual gentle smile vanished, replaced by a deep, heavy weariness and a pain he didn't want to face but had to acknowledge. "Karen, your observation..."
"This confirms the suspicion I've long been most reluctant to acknowledge." He slowly walked back to his chair and sat down, gesturing for Karen to sit down as well.
Karen sat down as instructed, placing her hands on her knees and maintaining a proper posture.
"You should know that Voldemort used Horcruxes, right, Cullen?" Dumbledore's gaze fell on Cullen as if it were a physical object.
With an inquisitive and peculiar scrutiny, "In Nico's message and your description just now, its characteristics seem quite familiar?"
Karen met the Headmaster's gaze without flinching. He knew that any concealment at this moment would be futile and foolish. "Yes, Headmaster. My True Eye not only sees the flow of magic, but sometimes it also allows me to 'perceive' fragments of related information. When I first saw that lump on the back of Professor Quirrell's head, concepts like 'tearing' and 'container' emerged with unusual clarity. Combining Master Nico's speculation with my own observations, and these fragments of the soul, I have determined this conclusion: Voldemort, in order to escape death, performed a dark magic ritual of splitting his soul to create Horcruxes." He stated his conclusion directly, his tone as calm as stating an objective fact.
Dumbledore fell silent. A profound stillness descended upon the office, broken only by the soft crackling of the fireplace. The old man's fingers tapped lightly on the desk, his gaze becoming incredibly distant, as if piercing through time to see the once brilliant, handsome young man who had ultimately chosen a path of no return. After a long while, he let out a long, heavy sigh, a sigh containing a complex mix of emotions—disappointment, heartache, and…
And heavy responsibilities.
"Your gift, the Eye of Truth, often reveals truths far more brutal than our worst expectations," Dumbledore's voice was deep. "Yes, Horcruxes. Tom has indeed embarked on this path of blasphemy against the very essence of the soul. And, I'm afraid, there's more than one." He looked at Cullen, his eyes sharp. "That's why Quirrell became his host, his springboard for attempting resurrection. That fragment parasitizing Quirrell yearns for the Philosopher's Stone, yearns to reshape his body."
Karen nodded; this was exactly what he was waiting for. He took a deep breath, deciding to push further. "Headmaster, there's one more thing. My observation—which may involve another person"—paused, as if organizing his thoughts. "Harry Potter. On his first day of school, at the train station, at the Sorting Ceremony, and in several subsequent observations, my True Eye saw something very peculiar in the location of his scar."
Dumbledore's body tensed almost imperceptibly for a moment, his eyes fixed on Cullen. The air in the office seemed to vanish instantly, and the pressure increased dramatically. Fawkes also looked up, staring at Cullen.
Despite the immense pressure, Karen calmly continued, "It's not as simple as a magical scar. Deep within the core of that scar—I sensed an extremely faint aura, the same as the soul fragment on the back of Quirrell's head. Very faint, enveloped and suppressed by powerful protective magic, but the filth and twisted will to survive after that 'tear' are essentially similar." He didn't directly utter the words "soul fragment," but the meaning was crystal clear.
A long silence followed. Longer than before. Dumbledore leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. He seemed to have aged many years in an instant. When he opened his eyes again, deep within his azure eyes, besides heavy sorrow and understanding, there was a profound, unyielding weariness.
"I've been avoiding that possibility." Dumbledore's voice was slightly hoarse. He no longer looked at Cullen, but at the smoke billowing from the silverware, as if recalling something. "Lily's love, that ancient sacrificial protective magic, it was too powerful—so powerful that I always hoped it could completely purify the evil that clung to me that night. How I wished that what remained on Harry's forehead was merely a symbolic scar, and not a vessel for a curse." His fingers unconsciously rubbed the corner of the table, his knuckles turning slightly white from the pressure.
"But your eyes, Cullen, have revealed the truth I tried to conceal with hope." Dumbledore turned back, his gaze returning to Cullen, the previous scrutiny gone, replaced by a heavy, candid honesty. "Yes. As you observed, on that well-known night, when Voldemort tried to kill Harry, the ancient Patronus Charm triggered by Lily's sacrifice reflected the Killing Curse, destroying Voldemort's body at the time. But that spell was too evil; his soul was already extremely unstable—the reflecting spell likely tore a part of his main soul apart, and that fragment, along with Lily's Patronus magic and the force of the reflection, was accidentally—imprisoned—into Harry's scar. It became Voldemort's unintentional creation—the last Horcrux. A living Horcrux created at the cost of Voldemort's own death."
Dumbledore slowly revealed this cruel truth. The atmosphere in the office was so heavy it was almost suffocating.
Karen listened quietly, understanding dawning on her. This was a plot she knew well, but hearing it confirmed by Dumbledore himself, with the old man's deep pain and helplessness, gave her a different feeling.
“So,” Dumbledore’s voice regained its calm, but beneath that calm lay a resolute determination, “to truly defeat Voldemort, we not only need to destroy the Horcruxes he has hidden in every corner, but ultimately—we must also confront this fragment within Harry. It is his anchor point, one of his greatest weaknesses, but also the sword of Damocles hanging over Harry’s head.” He looked at the Shadow Bottle in the crystal dish, “and these fragments you’ve captured—from Quirrell’s relatively active fragment. Nico and Castor might be able to analyze from them more about Voldemort’s current soul state, weaknesses, and the connection to that curse. It’s invaluable, but also extremely dangerous.”
“I understand its dangers, Headmaster,” Karen said solemnly. “That’s why I brought it to you immediately. We’re just ‘picking up the scraps.’ The subsequent analysis must be conducted by Master Nico and Professor Castor in an absolutely safe environment. I currently have neither the intention nor the ability to delve into that level.”
Dumbledore nodded approvingly. “You did the right thing, Cullen. Caution and self-awareness are the cornerstones of wisdom. This bottle,” he gestured to the crystal container, “I will immediately send it to Nico through the safest channels. The information you provided about Harry—which confirms some of my deductions—is very important.” He stood up, walked to Cullen, and looked at him gently. “You have taken on responsibilities far beyond your years and seen darkness that most cannot imagine. But remember, Hogwarts is your sanctuary, and we,” he gestured to the portrait of the headmaster on the wall, “along with your friends and mentors, are your support. Focus on your studies, your research, your growth. The road to defeating Voldemort is long and dark; it requires strength, but even more so, it requires a clear mind and a steadfast heart like yours.”
Karen stood up and bowed slightly. "I understand, Headmaster. I will focus on what I can do well."
"Very good." Dumbledore gave a tired but sincere smile. "The plan regarding Quirrell and the Philosopher's Stone is proceeding as scheduled. Your discovery will not disrupt it; on the contrary, it provides some important corroborating evidence. As for Harry—" He paused, "protect him, guide him, but the time is not yet ripe for the truth about his scars. Giving him the most normal school life he can have is what he deserves, and it is also an important force in the fight against the darkness."
“I understand, but I also hope you can consider telling him the truth as soon as possible, so he doesn’t always remain in the dark.” Karen nodded again, then offered a suggestion about Harry. He glanced at the lead box on the table, knowing his task was complete. “Well then, if there’s nothing else, I’ll take my leave, Headmaster.”
"Go, Cullen," Dumbledore said gently. "Sweet dreams tonight. And don't forget to share the breakthrough of the Eye of the Quidditch record with Professor Flitwick; that was also a remarkable achievement."
Karen gave a final bow, then turned and left the headmaster's office. The spiral staircase descended slowly, leading him back to the quiet corridor. He took a deep breath of the cool night air of the castle, feeling as if some of the burden on his shoulders had been lifted.