Searching for Lost Memories

Watching Harry and Ron chase each other away into the distance, Loren chuckled softly, seemingly relieved.

Hermione picked up the flower-shaped mirror, ran her fingers over its surface, and, unable to resist the urge, raised it up and waved it at Loren, her eyes sparkling as she anticipated his foolish act.

Loren glanced down at her, then snatched the mirror and gave her a sharp rap on the head. "What are you thinking? You think you can use something I made against me?"

"Ouch!" Hermione cried out in pain, "You actually hit me!"

She waved her hands, ready to teach Loren a lesson, but Loren didn't hesitate at all, stood up and ran away.

As midnight approached, the moonlight was hidden behind thin clouds, and the night sky was a hazy silvery white. The Winky stars were like bright pearls, shining brightly.

In the quiet and desolate Castle, the sound of boys running carried far.

In the Gryffindor boys' dormitory, Seamus sat on Harry's bed and whispered in his ear, "Loren was the first to stand up for you. He scolded Maclagan in front of everyone. Many people said he was stupid, that a Muggle wizard like you who Parselmouth was going to be petrified sooner or later."

Harry's heart clenched again, but he didn't want to show it. He suppressed the stinging in his nose and joked with Seamus, "Everyone in the dorm trusts me, so why are you speaking so softly?"

Neville was reviewing the latest passwords; Ron had turned the bedsheets into a chessboard and was engrossed in practicing them; Loren was tucked under the covers with half a book sticking out of the corner, secretly studying them until he fell asleep.

Seamus glanced around to make sure everyone was in bed doing their own thing before he hesitantly revealed his thoughts. "Although I know you're not the heir to the Chamber of Secrets, I believe you'll definitely find Chamber of Secrets and the true heir. Could you take me with you on your adventure this year?"

He solemnly promised, "I just want to experience what it's like to be Champion, and I promise not to cause any trouble."

Harry looked at him, both amused and exasperated. "What are you talking about? These things are beyond our control."

"Please! I can help you gather intelligence. I have connections in Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw, and I can also find out about Slytherin. I promise I won't hold you back," Seamus persisted.

Harry couldn't resist his persistent nagging and reluctantly agreed to let him keep an eye out for Malfoy's recent whereabouts.

Loren returned to his dormitory, washed up, climbed into bed, and his consciousness sank into the Alchemy Laboratory.

In the center of the inverted hemispherical room made of red bricks, a large furnace carved from black stone is decorated with various Hexagram, scales, and Star Chart, while a sphere inside continuously radiates intense, magma-like light.

Judging from its appearance, the virtual furnace was much larger than the Transfiguration from the Fantasy Book, and the runes flowing across its surface were far more complex. Loren suspected that the smaller furnace transformed from the Fantasy Book could be upgraded.

"No need to consider the proportions, no need to worry about the heat, just throw the ore in, and you can smelt the right material." Loren looked at the furnace with great curiosity. "It doesn't feel like something Nicol made. It doesn't conform to the principles of Alchemy at all. This style that ignores the rules and completely defies common sense is very similar to something made by ancient wizards."

It's unscientific, but incredibly magical.

Flamel hummed in agreement. "Stop looking. This isn't something you can dissect right now. Didn't you want to use the hand mirror to enter your deeper consciousness and search for your lost memories? Listen carefully to what follows!"

"Unlike memory devices like the Pensieve, the fundamental function of this mirror is to construct illusions. In other words, what you see is an illusion generated by your consciousness. You'd better just look and listen, and not do anything unnecessary..."

The mirror was strange, Bloody Mary was strange, and even the way the mirror ended up in Loren's hands was strange. Back in Dean Forest, he had been unknowingly drawn into a hallucination, unwittingly witnessed a Bloody Mary story, and then found the mirror for free.

He still doesn't know whether the illusion he experienced was manipulated or a setup left behind by a mysterious wizard skilled in Prophecy. But he's easygoing; after all, it's free, so why not take advantage of it?

"Remember what I said? Illusions can be divided into three layers. The first layer is a reflection of reality, and it has certain realistic characteristics. You need to guide reality to open the second layer, which leads to memories. If all goes well, you will be able to see your missing memories in the second layer." At this point, Flamel frowned and paused.

Loren then asked, "And what about the third floor?"

Flamel shook his head. "It's best not to enter the third level. Whether it's the subconscious or the lower consciousness, it's too complicated and easy to get lost. Moreover, the illusion of the third level may have a backlash on your consciousness and affect you."

Guide memorization in the first level; after entering the second level, you can only observe and should not proceed to the third level.

Loren's mind was filled with Flamel's nagging instructions as his consciousness returned to his body on the four-poster bed.

Inside the dormitory, Harry and Seamus were still whispering and discussing something, and you could vaguely hear words like "Malfoy," "Champion," and "count me in."

Loren crawled back into bed, grasped the small mirror, and held it up to his eyes.

His black curly hair was a little messy in the blankets, his eyes held a clear blue hue, and although his face was still somewhat immature, he was already quite handsome.

Loren was very satisfied and became even more engrossed in watching. The mirror got closer and closer, and the image in the mirror grew larger and larger until it blotted out the sky and occupied Loren's entire field of vision.

With a slight blink and a moment of disorientation, Loren came to his senses and found that the hand holding the mirror had become his left hand, and everything in front of him had flipped left and right. The picture of Nicol on the cover of the Fantasy Book also became dull and lifeless.

He roughly understood that he had entered the first layer of illusion.

Lifting the covers, Seamus and Harry were still chattering away, but it was impossible to hear what they were saying; not even a few words could be heard.

Loren watched this scene with a strange feeling. He considered trying to prank Harry in the illusion, but ultimately abandoned the idea; business was more important.

"Do you remember anything from before you were one year old?" Loren began his guidance.

As the sound rang out, he felt the entire space freeze for a moment. All sounds ceased—the wind outside the window, his roommates' conversation, the flickering candlelight—all vanished. Then, in an instant, the sounds returned, and the illusion began to operate again.

Perhaps because Neville was most closely associated with memories in his mind, Neville was the first to respond to the topic of memories in the illusion, "I don't know if I remember or not. I remember some things very clearly, but I don't know if they were before I was one year old."

Harry's voice was a little sluggish. "I always see my mom and dad in my dreams, and I even dream that they talk to me. This is probably a memory from before I was one year old."

"And you, do you remember anything from before you were one year old?" Seamus asked.

Loren continued, "I remember, my hometown is in Hampshire..."

Sirius Children's Welfare Institute in Hampshire. Government officials would certainly not send local orphans to other places for placement. Based on the principle of allocation according to proximity, it can be inferred that his hometown was indeed in Hampshire.

After saying this, Loren suddenly felt a flood of familiar yet unfamiliar images rush into his mind:

It seemed to be a bustling street, lined with stalls and vendors doing small businesses. At one end of the street, the best-selling item in the bakery was cream puffs, and the clerk would stuff a few extra milk candies into the packaging. A little further on was a movie theater.

The sounds of prosperity and liveliness continued unabated, as if right beside his ears, growing louder and more boisterous.

Harry and Seamus's voices rang out again, piercing and shrill amidst the bustling hawking noises. The various objects in the dormitory gradually became distorted and elongated, like reflections in a convex mirror...

A violent feeling of falling washed over me—

When Loren opened his eyes again, he found himself wrapped tightly in baby clothes and sitting in a somewhat rudimentary screening room. The light from the projector in front of him was projected onto a rough screen, and noise occasionally flashed across the screen. The rudimentary video equipment emitted sounds with a sense of the times.

A long list of staff members on the screen indicated that the movie had ended. Next to him, a woman with a gentle face, wearing a sky-blue dress, who looked to be no more than twenty years old, bent down and kissed him on the forehead. "You didn't cry or make a fuss throughout the whole movie, my baby is so good!"

A fresh floral scent wafted from her curly, fluffy black hair, making Loren feel drowsy. Following his body's instincts, Loren leaned into her arms.

The gentle woman smiled and said, "So you were sleepy. No wonder it's so quiet."

Sitting next to the woman was a handsome man in his twenties. He got up, picked up the child, and shifted him to a more comfortable position so the child could sleep more soundly. He gestured with his other hand in an inviting gesture, his voice gentle and smiling:

"Well then, Mrs. Morgan, I would like to cordially invite you to my home as a guest. What do you think?"

"With pleasure!"

The woman put her hand on the man's hand, and the family of three slowly walked downstairs, shoulder to shoulder, onto the street, the bustling street that Loren remembered.

They passed by a bakery and bought some cream puffs.

The man tore open the milk candy the shop assistant gave him and brought it to the woman's lips. She took a bite and a satisfied smile appeared on her face.

He stuffed the other half into the mouth of the half-asleep Loren, shaking his son awake to give him the candy, leaving both the child and the woman speechless.

The blissful scene continued until—"Peter! You will pay for your actions!"

After a deafening roar, a massive explosion shook the earth. A powerful shockwave erupted from the street corner, blasting away surrounding houses, sending mud and rocks flying, and even tearing up bricks and stones from the floor to expose sewer openings.

In a very short time, the man protected the woman and child. The woman hid the child in her arms, and her loose black hair and sky-blue dress obscured Loren's vision.

A sharp pebble pierced the woman's chest. She let out a muffled groan, tightly protecting the child in her arms. As if worried he would cry, the woman whispered through her pain, "Don't cry, don't cry, Mommy's here..."

Thick, warm blood soaked through her sky-blue dress. The woman, having lost too much blood, was completely disoriented. Unaware that the child in her arms had already fallen unconscious, she kept repeating:

"Don't cry, don't cry, Mommy's here..."

The blood flow gradually slowed down, and as if sensing something, the woman whispered one last time, "Don't cry, don't fuss, Mommy's baby, you're so good."

Harry and Seamus's chattering voices swept past like the whistle of a train arriving at a station, the piercing sound penetrating the entire illusion.

Overwhelmed by intense emotions, Loren could no longer hold on. Everything before him shattered like a mirror, white cracks spreading across every corner of the world.

With a shattering sound, Loren was pulled out of the illusion.

He suddenly felt a sharp pain in his head, which traveled from his head to his left chest and into his lungs. Every breath he took was accompanied by unbearable pain.

Loren carefully curled up in bed, taking deep breaths to try and ease the sudden pain, but the sharp needle kept piercing his heart from his trachea.

The crystalline blue shadows in his eyes shattered, revealing their true blackness. Warm tears welled up from the corners of his eyes, flowed down his earlobes, and landed on the pillow, slowly growing cold on the cotton fabric.

He didn't want his roommate to notice, so he didn't make a sound from beginning to end. He also didn't want to enter the Fantasy Book; he didn't want to go anywhere, see anyone, or talk to anyone.

As dawn broke, Loren's fingers trembled slightly as he fumbled for the Fantasy Book and entered the Library.

With her black hair and black eyes, Loren looked different than before; she had lost some of her refinement and gained a more elegant air.

He recounted the changes he experienced during his Magic Power awakening to Flamel in detail, and apart from his slightly red and swollen eyes, it was almost impossible to see the turmoil in his heart.

Flamel flew above Loren's head, emitting a milky white glow that made the Library even brighter. The milky light shone on Loren's consciousness, giving him a slight feeling of warmth.

Flamel paused for a long time before speaking, "Witnessing the death of your loved ones caused your emotions to fluctuate violently. Your Magic Power began to surge as soon as it awakened. At that time, you were still too young, and your soul had not yet reached a stable state. Your emotions and Magic Power simultaneously affected your soul. A portion of the deepest power of your soul was stirred out and attached to your eyes. At the same time, in order to stabilize your Magic Power and soul, your subconscious naturally sealed off this memory, so you felt excruciating pain when it was first unsealed."

Loren squinted, sensing his body, and asked, "Will this have any effect on me?"

Flamel shook his head. "Your soul is already stable, which is equivalent to another Magic Power awakening, and there are no other effects."

Loren gave an "oh" and then fell into a long silence.

A dozen minutes later, Flamel broke the silence. "What do you plan to do with those two wizards who dueled in the street?"

Loren lay motionless with his eyes closed. Just when Flamel thought he had fallen asleep, Loren opened his eyes and said slowly but firmly, "The victim is Muggle, so Wormtail Peter should be tried under Muggle law. Terrorist attacks resulting in numerous casualties generally warrant the death penalty with immediate execution. I will serve his sentence."

England has effectively abolished the death penalty. Flamel opened his mouth, but ultimately asked another question, "And who's the last one?"

"There's one more," Loren paused.

Black wasn't the real murderer, and he had already been imprisoned in Azkaban for ten years, which atone for some of his sins. Besides, he was Harry's only acknowledged family member, Loren didn't want to end up like Wormtail Peter.

"I demand an answer from Sirius Black Black..."

——

The author's voiceover: Loren's memories have been unearthed, but because the author is too Hānhan and lacks writing skills, it's not written very clearly.

First, I'll explain the great hatred my parents had for me. I've designed a major plot for Wormtail's death, which should take place in the third grade.

Sirius Black will be back at school in the second semester of sophomore year, Loren has a plan for dealing with him; it won't be a simple matter of saying nothing and letting it go. Asking him questions implies "torture"...