A Horcrux, a product of Dark Arts created by the ancient Greek wizard Herpo, is capable of storing fragments of its creator’s soul.
It was a bizarre creation pioneered by Herpo in his quest for immortality.
— Excerpt from Herpo’s Magical Creation: Horcruxes
Will reviewed the Dark Arts books he had read at home, almost knowing this particular book by heart.
However, since it was a common book bought from Diagon Alley, it did not detail the process of creating Horcruxes, only providing a basic analysis.
From Lord Voldemort’s behavior, Will deduced that Horcruxes could affect their creator’s thoughts and intelligence, as the process involved splitting the soul.
As Will’s thoughts drifted toward Horcruxes, Harry had been pulled high into the air by his violently shaking broomstick on the Quidditch Pitch.
Almost everyone’s attention was focused on Harry, but Will’s mind was elsewhere.
Perhaps only he knew that Dumbledore would never allow the Savior he was nurturing to die in such a ridiculous school Quidditch match.
Moreover, when Hermione knocked Quirrell’s wand aside while he was muttering a curse, Harry’s broom gradually stopped shaking.
Harry then quickly ended the match, and Slytherin suffered a crushing defeat.
Boos erupted from the Slytherin stands, while Malfoy and his friends had already begun loudly cursing the outcome.
Will was glad the match had ended quickly.
He stuffed his book into his satchel and, pulling along a somewhat sulking Sylvia, became one of the first to leave the Quidditch Pitch.
As they walked, Sylvia kept muttering, “I can’t believe we actually lost to Gryffindor! Slytherin hasn’t lost in seven years!”
Will had no sense of House pride.
He didn’t care about the House Cup in the slightest.
“If you’re still in a bad mood, why don’t we go for a walk by the Black Lake?” Will suggested.
Will and Sylvia spent the afternoon by the Black Lake.
Will built a small bonfire, and the two of them roasted fish over the flames.
At one point, he even tried to conjure a small wooden shelter with Transfiguration to block the cold wind, but his Transfiguration clearly wasn’t good enough yet.
In the end, they managed to create three earthen walls beneath a tree to shield themselves from the wind.
Meanwhile, while the two were roasting fish beside the Black Lake, four young wizards were suffering at Hagrid’s hut in the Forbidden Forest, either tormenting Hagrid or being tormented by his rock cakes.
Yes, Neville had come to Hagrid’s hut with Harry, Ron, and Hermione.
The group stared helplessly at the rock cakes in their hands.
Harry thought they were much harder than anything he had eaten before.
Sometimes, he couldn’t help wondering whether Hagrid had actually baked them with real rock powder.
“Longbottom’s boy, you look much sturdier than Harry.” Hagrid patted Neville’s back with a hand larger than a dinner plate, nearly making Neville’s spine crack.
“That was quite dangerous just now, wasn’t it, Harry? What happened to your Firebolt? I’ll pour you some hot tea to calm your nerves.”
Neville rubbed his back.
“Hagrid’s really strong, isn’t he?”
Ron nodded in agreement.
He had been patted like that once before.
Neville rummaged through his pocket, wanting to let Trevor out for some fresh air, but after searching for a while, he couldn’t find the toad.
He helplessly spread his hands.
Ron reminded him, “Then you’d better find him quickly. The Forbidden Forest is right next to us. If Trevor runs in there, you might never find him again.”
Neville immediately pulled out his wand.
“Accio, Trevor!”
A gray-black toad rose from the grass outside Hagrid’s hut and flew straight toward Neville.
Ron and Harry were both surprised.
They knew Neville had learned Accio, but they hadn’t expected him to use it so proficiently.
“Thanks to Will. He taught me Accio.” Neville caught Trevor and prepared to put him back into his pocket.
Far away by the Black Lake, Will, who was roasting fish, suddenly received a notification.
[Someone feels gratitude towards you, Charisma experience +1]
“I really don’t understand why you’d choose a toad as a pet. I thought no young wizards at Hogwarts brought toads.” Ron dangled Scabbers by the tail and placed him beside the rock cake.
Scabbers simply rolled over and continued sleeping with his eyes closed, completely ignoring the rock cake.
At that moment, Hagrid brought the tea to the table and stared at the toad in Neville’s hands.
“What a cute little fellow. You know, toads are a wizard’s good friend.”
“Why?” Harry asked.
To be honest, he didn’t particularly like toads either.
They weren’t exactly appealing.
Compared to them, his owl, Hedwig, was absolutely adorable.
“Toads can help young wizards test Potions. When they drink a Potion containing toxins, they can metabolize them through their skin without much harm. Toads can even produce different-colored secretions depending on the type and concentration of the toxins in the Potion.”
Hagrid rattled off a long explanation before suddenly remembering something else.
“Oh, and Harry, your mother really liked toads. Her Potions grades were excellent, and she often used toads to test Potions.”
Harry recalled what Aunt Petunia had once said.
“My wretched sister was one, so how could you not be? Oh, she received the same letter, and then she disappeared… went to that school… Every holiday she came back with pockets full of toad spawn, turning teacups into rats. Only I saw through her, a complete monster! But my parents couldn’t see it, always ‘Lily this’ and ‘Lily that,’ happy to have a witch in the house!”
Harry felt uncomfortable.
His expression became unnatural as he took a sip of the hot tea Hagrid had poured.
Ron noticed Harry’s expression and assumed he was still shaken by the Quidditch incident.
“Don’t be afraid, Harry. We’ve figured out what happened.”
“It was Snape,” Ron explained.
“Hermione and I saw him. Neville saw him too. He was muttering a curse at your broom, and his eyes were fixed on you.”
“Nonsense,” Hagrid said as he poured them more tea.
“Why would Snape do something like that?”
Harry, Ron, and Hermione exchanged glances, unsure how to explain it.
Harry eventually decided to tell him the truth.
“I found out something about him,” he said.
“On Halloween, he tried to get past that three-headed dog. It bit him. We think he wanted to steal whatever the dog was guarding.”
“No, Harry, Snape wasn’t injured on Halloween. Don’t you remember? He was right behind Professor McGonagall at the time,” Hermione corrected him.
Hagrid set the teapot down heavily and stared at the group in confusion.
“How do you know about the three-headed dog, Fluffy?”
“The three-headed dog, Fluffy?”
“Yes, he’s mine. I bought him from a Greek fellow I met in a pub last year. I lent him to Dumbledore to guard…” Hagrid accidentally let the secret slip, but quickly realized his mistake.
“What?” Harry asked eagerly.
“Alright, no more questions,” Hagrid said gruffly.
“It’s top secret, understood?”
“But Snape wants to steal it.”
“Nonsense,” Hagrid said again.
“Snape is a teacher at Hogwarts. He wouldn’t do such a thing.”
“Then why did he try to kill Harry?” Ron retorted loudly.
He already detested Snape, though even he wasn’t entirely sure why.
“I’m telling you, you’re wrong!” Hagrid said irritably.
“I don’t know why Harry’s broom behaved like that, but Snape would never try to kill a student! Now, listen to all three of you. You’re meddling in things that don’t concern you, and it’s dangerous. Forget about that big dog, forget about what it’s guarding. This is between Professor Dumbledore and Nicolas Flamel…”
As it turned out, Hagrid was terrible at keeping secrets.
“Aha!” Harry exclaimed.
“So it also involves someone named Nicolas Flamel?”
Hagrid’s face turned furious.
He was angry with himself for failing to keep the secret Dumbledore had entrusted to him.
Ultimately, the gathering ended on bad terms, with Hagrid getting into his first serious argument with Harry.
The group left Hagrid’s hut.
Along the way, Ron kept kicking pebbles as though they were Snape’s head, until he nearly kicked a sharp shard that could have torn through his shoe.
Hermione, meanwhile, was constantly racking her memory, trying to recall where she had seen the name Nicolas Flamel in the books she had read.
Suddenly, the group spotted two figures in the distance walking toward the Castle.
It was Will and Sylvia.
“Will should know!” Hermione clapped her hands.
“How could I forget to ask him?”
She immediately hurried toward them, calling out to the two.
“Oh, goodness,” Ron muttered.
Ever since Will had taken down the Troll on Halloween, Ron had been somewhat reluctant to deal with him.
For one thing, he had said plenty of unpleasant things about Will in front of Harry and Hermione.
For another, Will’s Aguamenti had soaked him so thoroughly that he had ended up spending several days in the Hospital Wing.
But now, finding out who Nicolas Flamel was mattered more.
“Oh, it’s you. Is something wrong?” Will and Sylvia had just finished eating several roasted fish and gained two points of Cooking experience, so they were both in a good mood.
“Do you know Nicolas Flamel?” Hermione asked directly.
Will’s answer immediately brought looks of delight to their faces.
“Of course I do.”