Horcruxes, a Dark Arts product created by the despicable ancient Greek Wizard Herpo, are capable of storing fragments of the creator’s soul, and are eerie creations pioneered by Herpo to achieve immortality.
In Eastern Huaxia, similar items include artifact spirits.
Legend has it that the most miraculous artifact spirit is a conscious spirit that automatically arises after crafting a weapon containing magic, while another way to produce an artifact spirit is through live-human sacrifice.
——Excerpted from Herpo’s Magical Creations — Horcruxes”
Will recalled the books on Dark Arts he had read at home and practically memorized this book back-to-back.
However, because this book was a common commodity bought from Knockturn Alley, it did not record the creation process of a Horcrux in detail, but merely provided a simple analysis of Horcruxes.
Judging from Lord Voldemort’s behavior, Will thought that Horcruxes would affect the creator’s mind and intelligence, since this involved splitting the soul after all.
While Will’s thoughts drifted toward Horcruxes, out on the Quidditch Pitch, Harry had been dragged high into the air by his violently shaking flying broomstick.
Nearly everyone’s eyes were drawn to Harry, leaving only Will’s mind wandering far away.
Perhaps he was the only one who knew that Dumbledore would not let The Boy Who Lived he nurtured die in such a ridiculous school Quidditch match.
Furthermore, when Hermione knocked down Quirrell who was casting a jinx, Harry’s flying broomstick gradually quieted down.
Shortly after, Harry swiftly ended the match, resulting in a crushing defeat for Slytherin.
A wave of disgruntled boos arose from the Slytherin stands, and Malfoy and his ilk even began hurling abuse.
Will was grateful that the match ended so quickly.
He stuffed his book into his book case and took the lead in pulling a somewhat glum Sylvia away from the Quidditch Pitch.
As the two walked, Sylvia kept muttering, “I can’t believe we actually lost to Gryffindor. You know Slytherin hasn’t lost for seven years!”
Will had no such collective sense of honor at all; he simply didn’t care about any House Cup.
“If you are in a bad mood, why don’t we take a walk by the Black Lake,” Will suggested.
Then Will and Sylvia sat by the Black Lake for an entire afternoon.
Will lit a bonfire, and the two roasted fish by the fire.
A small episode occurred during this time: he attempted to use Transfiguration to conjure a small wooden cabin to block the cold wind, but obviously his Transfiguration skills were not yet up to par.
In the end, the two managed to erect three earthen walls under a tree to block out the chilling wind.
And just as the two were roasting fish by the Black Lake, inside Hagrid’s hut by the Forbidden Forest, four Young Wizards were teaming up to torment Hagrid (or rather, being tormented by Hagrid’s rock cakes).
Yes, Neville had come to Hagrid’s hut together with Harry, Ron, and Hermione.
Several people were holding rock cakes at a loss.
Harry felt that these were much harder than their usual dinner plates, and sometimes he couldn’t help but suspect that Hagrid had baked them using real rock powder.
“The Longbottom boy, you look much sturdier than Harry,” Hagrid said, patting Neville on the back with a palm larger than a cattail-leaf fan.
Neville felt as though his spine was about to snap.
“That was truly dangerous just now, wasn’t it, Harry? What madness got into your broomstick? I’ll go pour you a cup of hot tea to calm your nerves.”
Neville rubbed his back, saying, “Hagrid’s strength is really huge, isn’t it?”
Ron nodded in deep empathy; he had been patted like that once before too.
He helplessly spread his hands: “It ran away again.”
Ron reminded Neville: “Then you’d better go look for it quickly. That’s the Forbidden Forest right next door. If Trevor runs into the Forbidden Forest, you might never find it again.”
Then Neville pulled out his wand: “Trevor, Accio!”
A greyish-black toad floated up from beside the grass in Hagrid’s yard and flew toward Neville inside the hut.
Ron and Harry were somewhat surprised.
They knew Neville had learned Accio, but they didn’t know Neville could use it with such proficiency.
“Thanks to the Accio that Will taught me.” Neville grabbed Trevor firmly, preparing to shove him back into his pocket.
Far away by the Black Lake roasting fish, Will suddenly received a prompt.
[Someone feels gratitude towards you, Charm experience + 1]
“I really don’t know why you chose a toad as a pet. I thought no Young Wizard at Hogwarts would bring a toad.” Ron dangled Scabbers the rat by its tail, placing it next to a rock cake.
Scabbers rolled over and continued closing its eyes to sleep, completely ignoring the rock cake.
At this moment, Hagrid brought the tea over to the table, staring at the toad in Neville’s hand: “What a cute little fellow! You know, toads are a Wizard’s good friend.”
“Why?” Harry asked.
To tell the truth, he didn’t really like toads either; this kind of creature was truly a bit hard to accept.
In comparison, his owl Hedwig was simply adorable.
“Toads can help Young Wizards test Potions. When they drink Potions containing toxins, they can metabolize them through their skin without sustaining too much damage; furthermore, toads can produce different colored Potions depending on the different toxins and toxicities of the Potions they drink.” Hagrid rattled off a long string of words in one breath.
Finally, as if recalling something else, he added: “Right, Harry, your mother liked toads very much. Her Potion Class grades were extremely good, and she often used toads to test Potions.”
Harry thought of what Aunt Petunia had said: “Since my damned sister was one, how could you possibly not be? Oh, she just received the exact same letter, and then disappeared… went into that school… Every time she came back for the holidays, her pockets were stuffed full of toad eggs, turning teacups into mice. I was the only one who saw right through her — an absolute monster! But my parents couldn’t see it clearly, talking about Lily this and Lily that all day long, thrilled to have a witch in the house!”
He felt a bit uncomfortable, his expression turning somewhat unnatural, and took a sip of the hot tea Hagrid poured.
Seeing Harry’s face, Ron assumed Harry was still terrified because of the Quidditch incident: “Don’t be afraid, Harry, we’ve already figured out the Quidditch matter.”
“It was Snape who did it,” Ron described the scene to Harry, “Hermione and I saw it, and Neville saw it too. He was casting a spell on your flying broomstick, muttering under his breath and staring dead at you the whole time.”
“Nonsense,” Hagrid was pouring them tea as he spoke.
“Why would Snape do such a thing?” Harry, Ron, and Hermione exchanged glances, not knowing how to tell him, so Harry decided to tell the truth.
“I discovered some things about him,” he said to Hagrid.
“On the eve of Halloween, he wanted to get past that three-headed big dog; it bit him. We think he wanted to steal the thing the big dog is guarding.”
“That’s not right, Harry, Snape wasn’t injured on the eve of Halloween.
You remember, he was right behind Professor McGonagall at the time,” Hermione corrected, “It must have been in these past few days.”
Hagrid slammed the teapot down heavily and looked at the few of them in puzzlement.
“How on earth do you know about Fluffy with the three heads?”
“Three-headed Fluffy?”
“Yes — it’s mine — bought from a Greek fellow I met at a pub last year — I lent it to Dumbledore to guard —” Hagrid accidentally let it slip, but quickly realized his mistake. This story is hosted at novelping . com.
“What?” Harry asked eagerly.
“That’s enough, don’t ask any more,” Hagrid said gruffly.
“That is top secret number one, understand?”
“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 want to kill Harry?” Ron retorted loudly.
He already hated Snape to the bone—of course, he himself didn’t even know why he hated Snape.
“I’m telling you, you’re wrong!” Hagrid said irritably.
“I don’t know why Harry’s flying broomstick acted like that, but Snape would never want to kill a student! Now, you three listen to me — you are meddling in things that have nothing to do with you. This is very dangerous. Forget about that big dog, forget about the thing it’s guarding, this is between Professor Dumbledore and Nicolas Flamel —”
As it turned out, Hagrid was not good at keeping secrets.
“Aha!” Harry said.
“So it also involves someone named Nicolas Flamel, doesn’t it?” Hagrid was furious; he was angry with himself for failing to keep the secret that Dumbledore had asked him to guard.
Ultimately, this gathering broke up on bad terms, and it was the first time Hagrid had such a major conflict with Harry.
The group left Hagrid’s hut.
Along the way, Ron kept kicking gravelly stones as if they were Snape’s skull, until he almost kicked a sharp piece of gravel that could have cut through his boot.
Hermione kept recalling the books she had read, searching for “Nicolas Flamel.”
The few of them suddenly saw two figures walking toward the Castle not far away: Will and Sylvia.
“Will should know,” Hermione clapped her hands.
“How did I forget to ask him?”
Then she strode quickly in that direction, calling out to the two as she walked.
“Oh, dear,” muttered Ron.
Ever since Will knocked out the Troll on Halloween, he had always been somewhat reluctant to deal with Will.
Partly because he had spoken quite a bit of ill of Will in front of Harry and Hermione, and partly because he had been drenched halfway by Will’s Aguamenti and had spent several days lying in the Hospital Wing.
But nowadays, figuring out who Nicolas Flamel was was the crucial issue.
“It’s you guys. Is there something the matter?” Will and Sylvia had just eaten several roasted fish and gained two points of cooking experience, so they were in a good mood now.
“Do you know Nicolas Flamel?” Hermione asked straight to the point.
Will’s reply made the expressions of the group light up with joy.
“Of course I do.”