Chapter 397: "Seven"

Chapter 397: "Seven"

When Sherlock returned to Hogwarts, it was already close to midnight.

He did not bring Rodolphus and the other three back to the castle. Instead, he called Kingsley and had him take the four Death Eaters to the Ministry of Magic.

Neither Hogwarts Castle nor 12 Grimmauld Place was suitable for detaining wizards.

Moreover, the Order of the Phoenix and the Ministry of Magic shared information freely regarding the interrogation of Death Eaters, so there was no need for any unnecessary reservations. Sherlock simply had Kingsley take them away.

Silke was waiting for Sherlock in Hogsmeade village. They then walked into the castle together.

While Rodolphus and the others were important and could provide valuable information about Voldemort's current status, the biggest gain of the night was Slughorn's memory.

After sending Silke back to rest, Sherlock took the memory and headed straight to the headmaster's office.

Dumbledore was still awake, the office brightly lit. He was not only waiting for Sherlock but also hurriedly dealing with the official business he had not completed during the day.

Dumbledore held many positions and the recent search for Horcruxes had consumed most of his daytime energy, leaving him to handle these tedious tasks at night.

Seeing Sherlock, Dumbledore raised his head, a bit weary, and rubbed his temples. His face, however, remained as gentle as ever.

"It seems you've had a good night?"

Sherlock did not keep him in suspense. He took the bottle containing the memory from his pocket and placed it on the desk.

"At first, Professor Slughorn was unwilling to give me this memory. After I had a drink with him and talked a bit, he changed his mind."

He then told Dumbledore about capturing Rodolphus and the others, though these were not the main focus of the night.

Dumbledore put down the documents he was working on and retrieved the Pensieve from a cabinet behind his desk.

"Let's see, then, how Riddle obtained the information about Horcruxes from Horace. I hope this memory will provide us with some assistance."

As he spoke, he used his wand to draw the silvery threads from the glass bottle and placed them into the Pensieve.

The next moment, the Pensieve was filled with the silvery substance that resembled both liquid and gas.

Dumbledore and Sherlock exchanged a glance and, without hesitation, entered the memory together.

The office they found themselves in was clearly different from any teacher's office in present-day Hogwarts.

The young Slughorn already looked like a plump walrus.

He had a thick, lustrous head of straw-colored hair and a ginger mustache. He sat in a comfortable wingback chair, his feet resting on a velvet cushion, one hand holding a small glass of wine, and the other picking through a box of pineapple sweets.

Six or seven teenage boys were seated around Slughorn, including Tom Riddle.

When Sherlock saw this scene, his eyes were fixed on Slughorn, while Dumbledore's gaze was immediately drawn to the black ring on Riddle's hand.

As they arrived, Riddle was asking Slughorn a question.

"Sir, is Professor Merlin retiring?"

"Tom, I can't tell you that", Slughorn chided, wagging a finger covered in sugar, but then winked.

"I must say, I'm curious where you got your information, my boy. You know more than half the faculty."

Riddle smiled slightly, and the other boys laughed, casting admiring glances at him.

"You clever devil, you know things you shouldn't, and you know how to curry favor with important people. And thank you for the pineapple, you guessed right, it's my favorite."

The boys chuckled, and Slughorn half-joked, half-serious.

"I believe you'll be the Minister of Magic within twenty years. Perhaps in just fifteen, if you keep sending me pineapple sweets. I have strong connections in the Ministry."

The other boys laughed again, but Tom Riddle only smiled faintly.

Sherlock noticed that Riddle was not the oldest among the boys, yet they all seemed to look up to him as a leader.

"I don't know if politics suits me, sir", Tom Riddle said as the laughter died down. "For one, I have no significant background."

The two boys beside them exchanged glances and smiled, clearly thinking of a private joke, no doubt something they knew or had guessed about their leader's illustrious ancestors.

It was then that Sherlock noticed one of the boys had a familiar face.

It was the same Rodolphus Lestrange he had just captured today.

"What's that", Slughorn said cheerfully. "Your talents are clearly from a respectable Wizard family. That much is obvious. You have a bright future ahead, Tom. I've never been wrong about a student."

The golden clock on the desk struck eleven.

"Goodness, it's that late already? Off with you, children, or we'll be in trouble. Lestrange, I want your essay by tomorrow, or it's detention. You too, Avery."

The boys filed out, and Slughorn got up from his chair, carrying the empty glasses to the table. The commotion behind him made him turn around, and he saw that Riddle was still standing there.

"Hurry up, Tom. You don't want to be caught out after lights-out, do you? You're a Prefect..."

"Sir, I have a question."

"Then ask quickly, my boy, ask quickly..."

"Sir, I was wondering if you know anything about... Horcruxes."

Slughorn stared at him, his fat fingers absentmindedly stroking the stem of the glass.

"A Defense Against the Dark Arts topic, is it?"

Sherlock could see that Slughorn knew this wasn't a school assignment.

"No, sir. I read about it in a book, but I don't quite understand it."

Slughorn clearly didn't want to discuss Horcruxes with Riddle.

However, Riddle's hesitant, casual tone and subtle flattery were carefully crafted and not at all overdone.

Observing from a third perspective, Sherlock could see that Riddle was genuinely eager to learn this information. The way he phrased his questions and his demeanor clearly indicated a long-planned strategy.

Slughorn seemed to trust his student implicitly.

After all, based on Riddle's performance, he was bound to have a great future if he continued on his current path.

And why would such a person want to use a Horcrux, a dark magic that could ruin his life?

"Of course, a brief explanation won't do any harm, just to help you understand the term. A Horcrux is an object that contains a part of a person's soul."

"But I don't quite understand how that works, sir", Riddle said.

His voice was carefully controlled, and one could sense his excitement if they listened closely.

"It means you split your soul", Slughorn explained, "and hide a part of it in an object outside your body. This way, even if your body is attacked or destroyed, you can't die because a part of your soul remains in the world, undamaged. However, existing in that form..."

Slughorn frowned.

"Very few people would choose that, Tom. Death is often more merciful in comparison."

But Riddle's demeanor suggested that he was not someone who would easily give up on such a method.

Under his handsome face, an uncontrollable greed and eagerness were hidden, and he continued to ask.

"How do you split your soul?"

"Hmm", Slughorn said uneasily, "you must understand that the soul should remain whole and intact. Splitting it is a violation, an unnatural act."

"But how do you split it?"

"Through evil acts—the most evil acts, such as murder. Killing someone splits the soul, and the Wizard who wants to create a Horcrux uses this damage to seal the split soul fragment."

"But what spell is used for this? Don't ask me what the spell is, do I look like a murderer to you?"

"No, of course not, sir", Riddle said hurriedly. "I'm just curious. I was wondering, how useful is a single Horcrux? Can the soul only be split once? Would splitting it into more pieces make you stronger? For example, isn't seven the most magically powerful number? Seven—?"

"Seven!"

Slughorn's voice rose, and he seemed to regret discussing this topic with Riddle.

He stood up from his chair, looking uncomfortable. "Good heavens, Tom! Seven! Isn't killing one person evil enough? Splitting the soul is already evil enough... and into seven pieces..."

At that moment, Dumbledore gripped Sherlock's arm.

"We should leave, Sherlock."

The surroundings began to fragment, turning into silver threads that swirled around them.

This memory had provided them with enough crucial information.

Back in Dumbledore's office, they both sat down in their chairs, and Sherlock's face showed a look of disbelief.

"So, Voldemort's ultimate goal was to split his soul into seven pieces and create seven Horcruxes?"

Dumbledore interlaced his fingers in front of him and thoughtfully replied.

"You overlooked the dominant part of his soul that he always intended to keep. His final plan was to create six Horcruxes, making six objects in total."

Sherlock furrowed his brow.

"But these were just his ideas from school. Is it possible that he changed his mind later, splitting his soul into more pieces to ensure his safety, resulting in more than six Horcruxes?"

Dumbledore shook his head.

"You should know better than anyone, Sherlock. The key to a wizard's spell lies in their emotions and will. Once the target is set at the start of the spell, it cannot be changed during the casting process."

"I may not have delved deeply into the study of Horcruxes, but no matter how advanced or evil they are, they cannot violate the fundamental principles of magic."

"The first Horcrux Riddle created was his diary, which was during his time at Hogwarts. His ideas were not likely to have changed so easily at that stage."

"By the time he created his first Horcrux, he had already set the tone for the number of times his soul would be split. According to his will, his soul could only be split into seven pieces, unless—"

At this point, Dumbledore's eyes took on a deeper, more contemplative look, and he murmured.

"Unless some unforeseen event occurred, something even he did not anticipate."

Sherlock stroked his chin and spoke in a low voice.

"The probability of such an event happening is not very high, right?"

Dumbledore did not immediately answer. He seemed to be deep in thought, but the matter was too complex and uncertain for him to figure out in such a short time.

"Unforeseen events are not something we can predict. Therefore, regardless of the probability, we should not factor them into our plans."

"This memory from Horace provides us with a clear goal: seven pieces of soul, six Horcruxes. We have already discovered and found three of them. There is another one in the Room of Requirement, and I have also found some clues at Riddle's old home. As for the last Horcrux—"

Dumbledore's eyes sparkled as he made a bold guess.

"It is likely to be the snake by Voldemort's side."

He had seen Nagini with his own eyes during the final task of the Triwizard Tournament last semester.

Sherlock was also recalling the night he was transported to Voldemort's presence, when the Mark on his left arm had reacted.

At that time, the Mark had indeed felt hot, but he had assumed the burning sensation was due to Voldemort's impending resurrection, not suspecting Nagini.

Now, thinking back, it seemed quite possible.

Harry's recent dreams, which often showed Voldemort's perspective, also supported this theory. The Great Serpent named Nagini was indeed very special, always by Voldemort's side, and a venomous snake perfectly fit Voldemort's criteria for a Horcrux.

As the Heir of Slytherin, the only animal that could represent both Slytherin and the House was a snake!

Sherlock took a deep breath and met Dumbledore's gaze.

"If all the information we have is accurate, then we have a clear understanding of Voldemort's Horcruxes. The one hidden in the Room of Requirement is most likely Ravenclaw's Diadem. Including Nagini and the one you recently found clues about, we now know the locations of all three remaining Horcruxes."

Dumbledore's expression relaxed slightly, but he still cautioned.

"Knowing the locations of the remaining Horcruxes does not mean we can defeat Voldemort. Even if we successfully destroy all the Horcruxes, Voldemort will not die; he will only lose the means to resurrect. We still need to find a way to kill him!"

(End of Chapter)

Chapter end