Voldemort's Night Visit

After throwing Lockhart's manuscript into the fireplace and burning it to ashes, Loren returned to the Hospital Wing with a large bag of things.

Madam Pomfrey gave him a disdainful look, but considering that he had saved her life, she let him in.

Loren shared the snacks and candies in the package with Harry and Ron, including Chocolate Frog, Licorice Wands... but mainly Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans, because they were both edible and fun, and could help them pass the time in the ward.

With Chocolate Frog in his mouth, Ron asked curiously, "What exactly went wrong with Hermione's Polyjuice Potion?"

Harry was also curious and waited quietly for the answer.

"Don't say it!" came the girl's angry and embarrassed voice from the cubicle.

Loren couldn't help but laugh, waved his hand to stop the conversation, and walked into the cubicle with the package.

Sensing the sound of the curtain being pulled, Hermione quickly pulled the covers over her head to hide her cat body. In her haste, her tail fell out. She tried to control her body to make the tail retract itself, but the long, thin cat tail wouldn't listen; it not only wouldn't retract under the covers but also wobbled unsteadily.

Hermione quickly reached out her furry paws and scooped up the disobedient tail as well.

Loren chuckled softly, making no sarcastic remarks. He took out the books and notebooks from his package and neatly arranged them on the bedside table. "I didn't take any notes for any of the Transfiguration Club's courses. I'll definitely come over to mooch off you during the Christmas holidays. Are you going to keep avoiding me?"

"No, you can't rub against me." A soft, muffled voice came from under the covers.

"So you're going to watch me fail the exam? Are you going to study Animagus all by yourself?" Loren said, feigning sadness.

"Anyway, I'm not letting you mooch off me. Who told you not to take notes?"

"I've already seen it, why are you still hiding from me?"

The blankets stiffened for a moment, then the girl's angry voice rang out. "Don't you dare say that!"

Loren coaxed and pleaded with Hermione, provoking her anger. He only calmed down after taking a few cat punches, and then chuckled as he checked if any books had been missed.

The Hospital Wing gradually quieted down. After a tumultuous day, Harry and Ron were finally able to calm down. Reflecting on the events of the past few months, they slowly began to realize that something was amiss.

Ron lay on the bed, staring at the light on the ceiling, and suddenly said, "Don't you guys think there's something wrong with the Basilisk? Fifty years ago, it killed Moaning Myrtle as soon as it came out of the bathroom, but this time it's been lurking in the school for months and hasn't even killed a single cat."

He became more and more animated as he spoke, waving his hands. "Although there were coincidences each time, Mrs. Norris saw the Basilisk through its reflection in the water, Colin saw Basilisk through a camera, Justin saw it through Nearly Headless Nick Basilisk, and this—"

Ron couldn't quite describe the strange feeling, and he gestured to Harry to make him understand. "It's too much of a coincidence, isn't it? If it only happened once, I might believe it, but it's happened three times in a row..."

Loren's fingers traced patterns on the book as he pursed his lips. If he hadn't been tricked by Dumbledore, why would he regularly have the Basilisk's eyesight checked?

However, thanks to his monthly duel practice with the Basilisk, he has accumulated a lot of experience in applying the Transfiguration in duels, making it much easier for him to deal with large magical creatures like the Basilisk.

It's a pity that Basilisk gouged out the Fawkes's eyes. He had originally wanted to collect some of the grey Magic Power with petrifying properties from the basilisk's eyes.

Harry sat up, equally puzzled. "And Crabbe's strange behavior, remember? Malfoy repeatedly warned Goyle to stay away from Crabbe. The young Slytherin wizards had already noticed something was wrong with him, even Seamus got the news. I don't believe the professors didn't notice him."

"We received a note this morning, in which Dumbledore hinted that we could seek help from the Centaur, and there was also the sudden appearance of Fawkes and the Sword of Gryffindor."

Harry, reflecting on his experiences in the Forbidden Forest and the Chamber of Secrets that day, speculated with a mixture of belief and doubt. "Dumbledore isn't completely unaware of what we're doing. He seems to be encouraging and helping us, teaching us many useful things in ways we don't know. Just like last term, he's intentionally putting me in the presence of Voldemort."

"I think Dumbledore has a reason for doing this, after all, you were the one who caused Voldemort's defeat," Loren explained on Dumbledore's behalf. "Because of the Horcrux, Voldemort won't die, and he will definitely return at some point in the future. Think about it, who will he want to deal with most when he comes back?"

Cat ears covered in yellow fur peeked out from under the covers, swaying as they eavesdropped on the conversations outside.

Harry pointed at himself incredulously. "But, but isn't Dumbledore Voldemort's greatest enemy?"

Ron looked at him and blinked. "This doesn't conflict with dealing with you, does it? You're the person Voldemort hates the most."

Harry felt a tightness in his throat and a heavy pressure. "That's why Dumbledore allowed us to act freely; he wanted to train us to deal with Voldemort."

Hermione hesitated for a moment, but finally couldn't resist. She poked her head out from under the covers, glared at Loren resentfully, and joined the discussion.

Remembering the gift she received after using the sword, she asked, "Harry, do you feel stronger?"

Harry clenched his fist and tried it out, carefully feeling it for a moment, and replied disappointedly, "It seems about the same as before, I don't feel anything."

"How could this happen? I was hoping to find a chance to use the sword sometime in the future," Ron, equally disappointed.

"Perhaps I haven't found the courage in my heart yet. Dumbledore said that only those who are truly recognized by Gryffindor will receive a gift."

Harry, however, took it all in stride, not dwelling on the gains or losses of this power. But a question lingered in his mind: if daring to attack Voldemort and wield a sword against the Basilisk couldn't earn him Gryffindor's approval, then what was the source of his courage...?

"Probably when you have the courage to face death..." Loren's gaze was meaningful as he looked in Harry's direction through the curtain.

"No matter what, Seamus will definitely regret missing this great adventure—" Ron's excited voice faltered as he suddenly remembered something, "Oh, the professors didn't even mention how many points they would give us, considering it's the Basilisk and Voldemort!"

"Don't forget, we also broke over a hundred school rules. If we were to scrutinize it, we might have lost even more," Hermione retorted.

After a few laughs and jokes, the group ultimately hoped that the professors wouldn't associate this incident with the House Points system.

As lights out approached, Madam Pomfrey walked in from outside, stepped into the cubicle, poured Hermione a bottle of grass-scented potion, and shooed Loren away.

"Go back to your dorm right away! Even during the holidays, the school doesn't allow nighttime outings!"

The potion tasted so bad that Hermione stuck out her tongue. She watched Loren's departing figure thoughtfully.

Shortly after the start of the semester, she witnessed Malfoy speak with Loren alone. What did they talk about? Did they mention the Chamber of Secrets of Secrets...? Did they mention Crabbe...? And did they know anything about Voldemort...?

And then there was that weekend when she and Loren went to visit Hagrid, and they happened to see Dumbledore conducting Alchemy experiments on the eyes of the Acromantula in the Wooden House.

Dumbledore deliberately sent her away; what would they say...?

After the Basilisk attacked the Muggle wizards, Loren never showed any concern. He was always calm and composed, always mysterious...

Numerous questions slowly surfaced in Hermione's mind. Although she didn't know the truth, she vaguely grasped the underlying threads of the events.

However, she wouldn't force Loren to talk if he didn't want to; she unconditionally trusted Loren.

It was late when Loren returned to the Gryffindor Tower. The Common Room was empty, with only embers glowing red in the fireplace.

Seamus and Neville had gone home, Harry and Ron were in the hospital, and he was the only one left in the empty dormitory. After washing up and changing into his pajamas, Loren lay comfortably on his four-poster bed.

Just as he was about to enter the Fantasy Book, a powerful Magic Power suddenly burst into the dormitory through the window.

Loren instantly sensed something was amiss, gripped his wand, and aimed it at the unexpected guest— Voldemort.

Voldemort's Wraith was more solid than it had been in the Chamber of Secrets, like a dark cloud in the night sky, with a hazy mist constantly emanating from him.

This Wraith darted back and forth in mid-air, making no attempt to approach him.

"Voldemort, what do you want to do?" Loren asked sharply.

A constantly fluctuating, explosive crimson glow floated at the tip of the staff, accumulating surging Magic Power, ready to be unleashed.

A flat, snake-like face emerged from the Wraith. Its mouth was wide open, with a thin, forked tongue faintly visible. It had no nose, and its eyes were two narrow slits from which an eerie light emanated.

"Sage of the age, Descendant of Morgan, Mr. Morgan. Loren Morgan, I have long admired your name." A hoarse voice came from the Wraith, his tone humble and polite, even somewhat intimate, "Although you surely know me, I still wish to take the liberty of introducing myself: Voldemort —that is, me, the Heir of Slytherin, the forerunner on the path to immortality..."

Sensing the spell poised to strike on his wand, Voldemort chuckled, "No need for such caution or vigilance. Don't let worldly rumors prejudice you against me, especially since I'm so weak right now, aren't I?"

Noticing the impatience in Loren's eyes, who was about to unleash a spell, Voldemort quickened his pace. "You can't kill me. Instead of wasting your time and energy fighting me, let me finish, and we can both have an easier time."

Thinking that this thing wouldn't give up until it got what it wanted, and might even follow him to his house, Loren temporarily stopped accumulating spells. "Get to the point, you can skip all those clichéd recruitment tactics."

The fact that they were willing to listen to him was already half the battle won... Voldemort's flat snake face twisted into a chilling smile, "You know, despite House-elf, filthy, and disgusting, house-elves possess one admirable quality—loyalty."

Loren frowned. "Get to the point!"

"Hehehe—Extreme torture can break the seal of the Memory Charm. The Memory Charm you placed on that House-elf was lifted when I broke its fingers one by one."

Loren frowned slightly; this was something he hadn't expected.

Extreme suffering and intense emotional fluctuations can break the Memory Charm, a fact he learned when he first started learning, but he thought such extreme cases were too rare and never took it to heart.

But he overlooked the existence of House-elf. As lowly beings, like slaves, House-elf often suffered extreme torment.

But it doesn't matter. The Basilisk problem has been resolved, he obtained the information from the House-elf' memories, and the Memory Charm being broken didn't cause any loss.

"You're thinking it's just a House-elf, insignificant, right?" Voldemort's hoarse, unpleasant voice rang out again. "But Dumbledore certainly wouldn't approve of what you're doing, would he? The Memory Charm, Legilimency, mind manipulation... that old man touts the Magic Power of love and considers these evil acts. Do you want to know why?"

Loren looked at him calmly. Although Dumbledore did not agree with his actions, he did not create any distance between them because of it. Their relationship could not be sown by Voldemort with a few words.

"Think about it. Why does Dumbledore always preach that love is the greatest power? Why do the four Founders of Hogwarts all have such distinct qualities: courage, wisdom, kindness, and honor..." The hoarse, grating voice carried a seductive tone. "These questions concern the magic hidden deep within the soul and the human heart, a power far more powerful than Ancient Magic."

"What does this have to do with me?" Loren said unmoved.

He sized up Voldemort in his Wraith state, launched the Wizarding Wars, and ruthlessly slaughtered Muggle-born Wizard in the name of Pure-blood. He showed no mercy to Pure-blood Families and Death Eater, causing panic throughout the wizarding community...

If he wasn't mistaken, Voldemort also chose a distinct trait, probably fear.

"Muggle and wizard societies will eventually merge. Wizards can quickly absorb the achievements of Muggle civilization, but Muggle will never be able to master magic. They are destined to be unequal... Cooperate with me and reshape the world according to your will..."

Voldemort drawled out his words, explaining that according to the information he had gleaned from the Basilisk's memories, Sage born of the times was destined to solve the problems of the era and create a completely new world.

In recent centuries, the trajectory of the times has become crystal clear, and any wizard with a long-term vision can see through the fog of history.

Loren remained silent. If Voldemort had said these things to him a few months ago, he would have turned and walked away without looking back. What did these issues of the times, societal choices, the conflict and contradictions between wizards and Muggle have to do with him...?

Since regaining his memories and learning the cause of his parents' death, some subtle thoughts have undergone a gradual change.

However, these things only made him willing to listen to Voldemort finish speaking; of course, he wouldn't be foolish enough to believe Voldemort's advice. No matter how eloquent and persuasive Voldemort was, if he were to actually cooperate with him, he'd probably be reduced to ashes.

Most importantly, if someone offers themselves up as a helper, why not take advantage of it?

Loren grinned and said, "Alright, but I want you to hand over Wormtail Peter to me."

My stye got inflamed and I'm sorry for the delay. I'll update more tomorrow to make up for it.