Young Lady Malfoy Wants Me to Confess (12,000 Words)

However, on the other hand, the Imperius Curse cast by the second-year wizard wasn't very strong to begin with, so it's quite normal that it crossed Ron's bottom line and caused a breakthrough.

Harry watched them practice with great amusement, showing no intention of telling them to stop.

In fact, a hundred years ago, many of his classmates had suffered from the Imperius Curse.

There is another way to avoid the Imperius Curse, namely, the Occlumency.

However, Harry didn't learn it, since he only attended classes for a few days in his sixth year and didn't have time to learn the magic.

Furthermore, the Occlumency is not easy to learn and cannot be easily mastered by second-year students.

So after careful consideration, Harry decided it would be better for them to develop resistance to the Charms —firstly, to master the Charms, and secondly, to develop resistance to Imperio.

It's the most basic and simplest method, and the most suitable for a second-grade child's constitution.

Sebastian secretly dragged them into practicing the Imperius Curse back in fifth grade, his reason being to make his friends develop resistance to Imperius Curse.

People a hundred years ago didn't consider the Imperius Curse to be evil.

The Imperius Curse is not essentially a spell that affects a person's mind, which is why Harry had them practice Charms.

Hermione just used the Imperius Curse to make Ron do the robot dance, something Harry did too, to be honest.

When he was secretly practicing this Charms in the Crypt, he originally planned to train with Gareth —but to his surprise, Cassandra forcefully dragged him into training with her.

"You'd better train with me, Potter." Cassandra's arrogant eyes swept over Harry. "Oh? You don't want to, you can't accept the fact that I can manipulate you at will?"

After saying that, Cassandra gave Gareth a threatening look.

"No way! Harry's my brother! I absolutely won't stand by and watch you hurt him..."

Before Gareth could finish speaking, he felt ten heavy Galleon in his hand.

He was very sensible; clutching the Galleon in his hand, he happily turned and left without even saying goodbye to Harry, leaving the Crypt to the two of them.

Exactly, how could someone as kind as Miss Malfoy possibly torment Harry?

However, just to be on the safe side, we should find someone to help us, preferably someone who can control Malfoy —hmm, how about we go find that newcomer Grindelwald and have her rescue Harry?

With that thought in mind, Gareth left the Crypt with a satisfied smile.

Harry looked up at Cassandra and retorted, "I'm more afraid you can't handle the game—"

"Hmph." Cassandra raised an eyebrow slightly. "Then let's do this, Potter. If you can successfully cast the Imperius Curse on me, I'll grant you one request, how about it?"

Harry was on guard; he had no idea what Cassandra was up to.

"How about it?"

Cassandra squinted, and seeing that Harry didn't answer for a long time, she smiled contemptuously.

"Oh, well, so you don't have the guts, Potter..."

"Who says there isn't?" Harry drew his wand. "Come on, Miss Malfoy— "

Cassandra gave Harry no time to react, casting a Charms.

"Imperio (Imperio)!"

Harry felt a surge of happiness well up inside him, and his whole body felt warm.

Seeing Harry's expression, Cassandra calmly sat down in her chair, crossing her legs high.

Because it was summer and the weather was quite hot, she was wearing a light gray pleated skirt and gray over-the-knee cotton socks.

Harry walked over to Cassandra, knelt down, and began to massage her legs.

It must be said that Cassandra's legs are beautiful, with a lovely shape. The over-the-knee socks accentuate her legs, creating a youthful and vibrant silhouette.

"Too light, Potter," he heard Cassandra say. "Haven't you eaten, my little servant?"

Harry felt like he was sick. Normally, he would have jumped up and run far away from Cassandra —but why was he now so happy, thinking that massaging Young Lady Malfoy's legs was the happiest thing in the world...

but...

"Her legs are so soft," he thought.

As Cassandra looked down at Harry, a surge of pleasure rose within her.

snort...

So you're telling me to keep an eye on that new guy, Grindelwald?

You damn Potter! Aren't I enough for you to see?

I'm going to punish you properly!

However, when she saw Harry's green eyes, her heart suddenly softened for some reason.

well...

"My neck is so sore, Potter," Cassandra said again. "Come here and give me a massage."

"Good."

Harry said happily, then stood up and went behind Cassandra to massage her shoulders.

"Snort."

Cassandra chuckled as she enjoyed Harry's shoulder massage.

Perhaps feeling that the shirt was too restrictive, she reached out her small hand and unbuttoned one of the top buttons.

Harry didn't mean it; following Cassandra's slender, fair neck, he could even see her delicate collarbone through her shirt—he couldn't help but swallow hard.

This is quite a shock for a fifteen-year-old boy.

"So beautiful," he thought, "I'd be happy to massage Miss Malfoy's shoulders all the time."

"So, Potter!"

Harry was massaging his shoulders when he suddenly heard Cassandra's voice and replied blankly, "Yes, Miss Malfoy."

"So, you're staying here to practice with me because...?"

Cassandra paused for a moment after saying this.

"?" Harry didn't know what she meant.

"Are you... eyeing something that doesn't belong to you?" she asked, seemingly casually.

"What?" Harry still didn't understand.

But a sudden thought came to his mind.

I love Cassandra, I love Cassandra, I love Cassandra!

I'm going to tell everyone! I'm going to confess my feelings to her...

The thought was so strong that Harry suddenly felt something was wrong.

No, how could I possibly have such a thought?!

He suddenly woke up and darted out like an arrow.

"Impossible! Absolutely impossible!" Harry immediately denied. "Even if I, Harry Potter, were to die! Even if I were to jump off the tower of the Dark Arts Defense Tower! I would never like you..."

A fleeting look of regret crossed Cassandra's face before it turned cold again.

"You're just being presumptuous." She curled her lip. "Alright—you have pretty good willpower, I admit it. Now it's your turn."

Harry suddenly felt a sense of loss.

Actually... it wasn't that he disliked Cassandra, but he always felt that the gap between the two was just too great.

Just kidding, he's a sucker for good looks, and Cassandra's appearance... is top-notch in all of England.

Even after watching many female celebrities on television in later years, he still thought none of them were as good as Cassandra.

In his eyes, Cassandra was as dazzling as the sun, so how could she possibly favor him, a small, underdeveloped weed?

"Potter, how long are you going to stand there daydreaming?" Cassandra tilted her head. "You silly little Troll?"

"You're the Troll!" Harry retorted, raising his wand and pointing it at Cassandra. "Imperio!"

He waved his wand, manipulating Cassandra to her feet.

While they were practicing in the Crypt, Gareth ran out of the Great Hall, panting.

He looked around and found Verathea sitting in the Slytherin seat, engrossed in reading.

"Grindelwald, Grindelwald!" Gareth ran up, panting, and stopped behind Veratia.

"Is there something you need, Weasley?" Veratia looked up at Gareth.

"Um, I'd like to ask you for a favor," Gareth said, rubbing his knees.

"What kind of help?" Veratia didn't rush to answer, but instead decided to find out what Gareth meant by "help".

She knew that Gareth was Harry's roommate and best friend, and she wouldn't mind helping him if it involved Harry.

Fortunately, there weren't many people in the Great Hall, so Gareth looked around and lowered his voice, saying, "Harry and Malfoy seem to be practicing the Imperius Curse —oh my god, I'm worried Malfoy might hurt Harry, you have to help..."

"What?" Veratia was startled and quickly asked, "Where are they?!"

The urgency in his voice stirred a pang of envy, jealousy, and resentment in Gareth —for Harry.

Hey, it's so frustrating to compare yourself to others. Why is this guy so popular with women?

He felt like he'd eaten a lemon—he'd liked a certain Ravenclaw senior for three whole years, but she'd completely ignored him.

And what about Harry?

He's quiet and never makes a move on girls, yet Malfoy is interested in him, and the new transfer student also likes him...

Oh, Gareth already knew that Malfoy liked Harry —he noticed it as early as Christmas in their first year.

It wasn't until Harry's third year, when he went to Vienna with the Malfoy family, that Gareth confirmed the truth.

It seems that not only Miss Malfoy likes him, but even the Malfoy family head, Mr. Malfoy. Septimus Malfoy, does not object.

While asking the question, Veratia was still wondering to herself why Gareth would let Malfoy practice the Imperius Curse with Harry.

But she soon noticed the Galleon Gareth was holding in his hand.

ha...

You, Weasley, I bet Malfoy bribed you with Galleon, didn't you?

Thinking of this, Veratia glanced at the Galleon and estimated there to be about ten.

Ha, you Malfoy offer ten Galleon, I, Verathea, offer double!

She took out twenty Galleon from her pocket, thought for a moment, and then added thirty more.

No, twice the amount won't be enough to bribe him. As Harry's closest friend, we need to go all out! Only then can we...

Despite her usual frugality, Veratia never skimps on money when it's not necessary.

"I need Harry's address, it's urgent." Veratia handed the Galleon to Gareth.

Gareth's eyes widened in disbelief; he truly hadn't expected there to be such a formidable opponent.

I thought Cassandra Malfoy was rich enough, but I never expected... this new transfer student is even richer?!

"It's a pleasure to serve you, Your Excellency Miss Grindelwald." Gareth's eyes practically turned into Galleon. "Look— Malfoy and Harry are in the Crypt, you know that place, the one Harry took you to before, the closet..."

Veratia remembered that Harry had been scolded by Malfoy for this incident.

"I'm going right now!" Veratia didn't care about ladylike manners, stuffed the book into her pocket, and hurriedly left the Great Hall.

Inside the Crypt, Harry, having used the Imperius Curse on Cassandra, walked to a chair, sat down like Cassandra, and crossed his legs high.

"Give me a leg massage!" he commanded.

The arrogance on Cassandra's face vanished, replaced by a tenderness that Harry had never imagined.

No, not only had I never thought of it, I didn't even dare to think of it.

"Yes, Master." Cassandra knelt obediently beside him like a maid and reached out to massage his legs.

The word "master" sent chills down Harry's spine, his muscles tensed, and he leaned back firmly in his chair, scrutinizing Cassandra's expression.

If anything was amiss, he intended to stand up immediately and beg Miss Malfoy's forgiveness.

After all, he had always been Cassandra's sidekick—to put it nicely, but in reality, he felt he should be a servant.

Suddenly, he felt a little apprehensive as the young lady who served him massaged his legs.

But then he remembered that this was a practice of the Imperius Curse, and everyone had promised beforehand not to get angry.

So... he secretly felt a surge of satisfaction.

"This is life!" Harry thought to himself, feeling a surge of pride.

To get Young Lady Malfoy to massage his legs, heh...

You know what, it actually feels pretty good.

Harry smugly ordered Cassandra to massage his legs and shoulders, and finally directed Cassandra to do a robot dance.

This was the most popular dance in the era he traveled to, and it was considered top-tier.

Having had his fill of fun, Harry lifted Cassandra's Imperius Curse.

It would have been better if it hadn't been untied; once it was, Cassandra reverted to her original arrogant demeanor.

She walked up to Harry, grabbed Harry tie, knelt on Harry leg, and her eyes flashed with a dangerous light.

Harry looked at Cassandra in horror and quickly waved his hands, saying, "We promised we wouldn't be angry—"

To everyone's surprise, Cassandra's face came closer, and Harry could even feel her warm, fragrant breath on his face.

"Would you like me to massage your legs, my Young Master?" Her tone and expression were extremely dangerous.

She emphasized the word "master".

Just as Harry was wondering how to answer, the door to the Crypt opened.

This was the first pose that Veratia saw...

Harry was sitting on the stool, Cassandra was tugging at his tie, her face practically pressed against Harry, looking like she was about to kiss him...

"What... what are you doing?!" she asked incredulously.

At the same time, a sense of relief rose in my heart.

Fortunately, we made it in time, otherwise...

"What are you doing?" Cassandra asked, squinting as she saw Veratia.

Oh...

A cat that steals fish.

"As you can see," she said.

With that, Cassandra moved her legs off Harry and released her grip on his tie.

"Well, I've already used up my Potter." Cassandra walked briskly towards the door. "But Grindelwald... if you want to rescue a hero, I think you should come earlier next time. If I were a Dark Wizard, Potter would probably already be..."

As she said this, she stretched out her hand, her slender fingers clasped together, then opened like a flower in bloom.

"Poof~"

With that, Cassandra pushed open the door, leaving behind only a string of silvery laughter.

"Harry," Veratia stepped forward and asked with concern, "She—she didn't do anything to you, did she?"

"It's alright, Miss Grindelwald," Harry replied. "Just practicing some Harmless Minor Curses."

After saying that, he stood up from his chair.

"Okay," Veratia said softly, "But—we're friends, and you promised me last time you'd call me Veratia."

"Okay, sorry, Veratia." Harry smiled apologetically at her.

"Let's go, let's go rest for a while. We're going to the Forbidden Forest together tonight, remember?" she said. "We promised Garrick that we would let him rest in peace..."

After Veratia's reminder, Harry remembered that he still needed to help Garrick find the pages of the book on his body.

This time, it was just the two of them going to help Garrick —they had originally wanted to invite Cassandra to come along, but Cassandra had very disdainfully refused the invitation to travel with Harry.

Harry had no choice but to set off with Veratia.

Of course, through this experience of helping the ghosts find peace, Harry and Veratia also discovered the Map Chamber beneath Hogwarts —the very place Cassandra referred to as the Love Nest in her letter.

"Harry, Harry?"

Ron reached out and shook Harry. "What are you daydreaming about again, buddy?"

"Oh, that reminds me of something." Harry smiled at Ron. "How's your practice going?"

"Seamus and Neville have finished practicing and are waiting for you to continue teaching them," Cedric said from the side.

Harry stood up, glanced at Seamus with an expectant look on his face, cleared his throat and said, "Good, everyone did well—what makes me especially happy is that Ron was even able to break free from the Imperius Curse through his own willpower, even though the Imperius Curse came from a second-year witch."

Ron grinned smugly, while Hermione scoffed.

"So, teacher, when will you teach us the remaining two spells?" Seamus asked, never one to miss an opportunity to stir up trouble.

Harry glanced at Seamus, thinking, "As expected of someone with an innate explosive physique, that's some serious thought."

"I don't intend to teach you the next two spells—at least not now."

"Why?" Seamus asked, puzzled. "Is it because they're evil? But we've already learned one Unforgivable Curse, what's a couple more?"

"I need to remind you that these remaining two Charms are pure Dark Arts," Harry sighed, then said to Seamus, "It's still too early for you guys right now—"

"From your Charms Class, you should know that many Charms require the aid of emotion to cast." Harry said this not only to Seamus, but to everyone present. "But what I need to tell you is that the Cruciatus Curse and the Killing Curse are cast only with pure malice—if you don't have an extreme desire to torture or kill someone, the spell won't work, and it might even just cause a little nosebleed."

"Then why not, Harry?" Cedric asked, puzzled. "If you want to torture or kill someone, you can just Diffindo or Crushing Spell. Why aren't those two spells the Unforgivable Curse?"

"Because both of these spells have counterspells," Harry told Cedric. "Besides, the purpose of casting these two spells is not to torture or kill."

"That's why we don't recommend learning these two Charms for now. Take the Killing Curse, for example; it requires an extremely strong killing intent to be effective." Harry looked around and continued, "The evil of the Killing Curse isn't how evil the user is, but rather the absolute intent to kill at the moment the spell is cast."

"Think about it, a life that accumulated the efforts of countless people, filled with the expectations of parents, the love of family, the guidance of professors, and the trust of classmates, such a vibrant life, was taken away just because of your one thought, one spell..." Harry's voice was very soft, "At this moment, you have no way to avoid it. Not only can you not defend yourself legally, but you also cannot convince your heart that you have killed someone, and face this bloody and irreversible result."

"And the consequences... the most common consequence is that they become Dark Wizard are extremely indifferent to the lives of others, just like Voldemort," Harry concluded.

Upon hearing the name Voldemort, everyone shuddered.

Nobody wants to become Voldemort, especially children like them who are born with the love and care of their families.

"Then I'd better not learn it." Ron shuddered. "I don't want to become that kind of terrifying being; there'd be no point in living like that."

"Who says otherwise?" Seamus waved his hands repeatedly, "Let's not learn anymore, let's not learn anymore..."

Just kidding, after Harry's analysis, no one can think they can face the inner torment.

So... it's better not to learn this Charms.

Harry shook his head and smiled, then said to them, "In a few days, we can conduct some practical exercises in the Forbidden Forest. I'll test your learning progress then—how about it?"

"Great!" The subdued atmosphere returned to its usual enthusiasm. "What's the live-fire exercise like? Can you tell us about it?"

"Of course, the real combat will be in the Forbidden Forest," Harry told them. "I won't restrict you from using any Charms. As long as you can get out of the Forbidden Forest safely, I'll arrange some problems that are suitable for your learning pace—don't worry, there won't be any danger."

"Then I'm relieved." Neville breathed a sigh of relief.

Cedric, however, felt it wasn't that simple. He looked at Harry suspiciously, then at the others.

In the end, I chose to believe Harry. Oh well...

Back in his dorm, Harry lay in bed still thinking about the Basilisk.

There have been no new victims for a whole week. What's going on?

He felt something was off, and the more he thought about it, the more suspicious it seemed. So he slipped on his shoes and tiptoed out of the dormitory, intending to go to the Map Chamber to take a look, ask the professors and Veratia, and reconnect to his external brain.

He walked effortlessly behind the portrait of the Fat Lady, and as soon as he looked up, he saw Professor Snape blocking the doorway.

The two stared at each other for a long time. Harry held his breath, and just when he thought Professor Snape had seen through his Disillusionment Charm and was about to kick him out, he saw Professor Snape turn around and leave the scene of the accident with a clean and decisive move.

What's going on? This old... old professor?

Since Professor Snape let him off so easily, Harry also chose to let the old professor go and didn't mutter the words "Old Bat" out loud.

He followed the route all the way down to the underground and entered the Map Chamber.

"Harry." Veratia was delighted to see Harry, her face beaming with a happy smile.

"Veratia." Harry walked down the steps and came to Veratia's portrait.

Professor Rackham cleared his throat and asked in a drawn-out voice, "Alright, Potter, we'll leave the Map Chamber to you two young people..."

Before he could finish speaking, Harry quickly said, "No, no, Professor Rackham, I came here to ask you some questions."

Professor Rackham raised an eyebrow upon hearing Harry's words.

"You have a problem to ask us?" Professor Rackham seemed to have heard something amusing, but he still coughed and asked, "Well, I didn't expect you to have a problem—go ahead, we professors, along with your girlfriend, will try our best to solve it for you."

Harry blushed when he heard the words "girlfriend".

Even though Professor Rackham often teased him like this, he still felt somewhat uncomfortable.

He secretly looked up at Veratia, only to find that she had also turned her face away.

"Speak quickly," Professor Rackham said.

"Then I'll say it." Harry organized his thoughts and said, "Well, ever since Professor Dumbledore announced the new school rules last week, declaring Hogwarts under martial law and requiring everyone to travel in dormitory groups, there haven't been any more attacks—and I haven't heard the Basilisk's movements or heard its Parseltongue again."

"So I found it very strange, like I had some ideas, but I couldn't quite grasp them," Harry said, looking up again. "That's why I thought of you guys and decided to come and ask someone smarter for advice."

Harry is quite adept at emotional intelligence.

Upon hearing Harry's words, the portraits all fell into deep thought.

This is clearly very unusual.

"You mean you've never heard those Parseltongue again, right?" Veratia asked, frowning.

"Yes," Harry nodded and said, "I've been coming out every night recently and lying in wait at the spot where I first heard the Parseltongue, but the sound has never come back; it's like it's vanished."

"Could it be that Dumbledore's declaration of martial law frightened him?" Professor Rackham asked. "After all, that attacker was someone who only dared to hide in the shadows."

"No," Professor Rackham said, shaking his head. "The fact that he dared to carry out an attack right under Dumbledore's nose means he doesn't care about Dumbledore —or at least he's not very afraid of him."

"Why is that?" Headmaster Fitzgerald asked. "If he weren't afraid of Dumbledore, the martial law declared at Hogwarts wouldn't stop his attack."

"Could it be..." Veratia suddenly said, "The attacker is hiding among the Hogwarts students? That would make sense; this person could only go to class with their roommates or return to their dorm—there was no opportunity for them to act alone?"

"That shouldn't be the case," Harry said, scratching his head. "You're like Hufflepuff classmate, so you can come out alone. Cedric even came out with us for dueling practice tonight."

"Oh my god," Veratia rolled her eyes. "You really don't think a descendant of Gaunt family would be in Hufflepuff, do you? I think you should be focusing on Slytherin, okay? Gaunt family doesn't go anywhere but Slytherin!"

"Okay, I understand." Harry nodded repeatedly, though he also thought his earlier idea was a bit ridiculous.

Gaunt of Hufflepuff... Just thinking about it sends chills down my spine. He's lucky he wasn't subjected to Avada by Gaunt family ancestors for fifty minutes straight.

Slytherin would be devastated in the Chamber of Secrets; what a misfortune for their family!

It's important to understand that Salazar Slytherin's educational philosophy was completely contrary to Helga Hufflepuff's; one advocated for Pure-blood students, while the other championed education for all...

It's really hard to imagine a descendant of Slytherin coming to Hufflepuff, okay?

After receiving the analysis results, Harry left the Map Chamber.

He knew perfectly well what the gates of Gryffindor looked like—completely undefended.

Although they still travel in small groups, it seems that neither Professor McGonagall nor Prefect Percy believes that any Gryffindor can control the Basilisk.

That's right, which Gryffindor knows Parseltongue?

As for Hufflepuff, we can get a glimpse of it from Cedric sneaked out.

If the attacker was from either of those two academies, he would have already found an opportunity to release the Basilisk and launch another attack.

So... who could this person be?

Harry felt there was a high probability that it was done by someone from Slytherin.

after all...

He looked at the entrance to the Slytherin basement, where Miss Farley stood, and not far away was Professor Snape's desk—the old professor seemed to have set up his office in front of the Slytherin Common Room to prevent anyone from sneaking out.

On his desk was a compass-like object that kept pointing in his direction and making a hissing alarm sound.

Harry quickly slipped away, knowing that the thing was a magical artifact Anti-Disillusionment Charm.

As Harry walked toward the Headmaster's Office, he stood in front of the Waterspout Gargoyle and reached out to pat its head.

He still didn't know what the password was.

"Password," asked the Waterspout Gargoyle.

Harry didn't say anything.

"The gatekeeper will not bow to anyone," said the Waterspout Gargoyle. "Password."

Harry wiped his fingers, and a cluster of black Fiendfyre ignited.

"The password is the Licorice Wand," said the Waterspout Gargoyle, "But the gatekeeper will not bow to anyone."

"I know you won't bow down to anyone," Harry said. "Licorice Wand."

The Waterspout Gargoyle jumped to the side.

The Headmaster's Office was as it always had been. Harry climbed the steps, and the first thing he saw was the Sorting Hat on the cabinet.

Dumbledore sat behind the table, looking extremely relaxed.

"Professor," Harry said, stepping forward to greet Dumbledore.

But instead, I heard the sound of a hat hitting the table, and it was clear that the person was a little unhappy.

"Hey, Harry, you forgot to say hello to the old hat!" the old hat said, quite annoyed.

"Good evening, old hat." Harry turned around and waved.

Only then did the old man feel satisfied and rest again.

Harry sat opposite Dumbledore and looked up at the old Headmaster.

Before he could even speak, a glass of lemonade appeared in front of him.

He didn't rush to speak, but instead reached for the glass of lemonade and took a sip.

That's right, he only added a small amount of sugar, as is his usual practice.

Harry looked up again.

"Professor Dumbledore, do you have any leads? I mean—about Voldemort."

He was asking a question he already knew the answer to.

"Yes," Dumbledore said succinctly, "our guess was right after all, Voldemort's mother was a member of Gaunt family— "

As he spoke, Professor Dumbledore shifted his body wearily.

He's been incredibly busy these past few days, constantly searching for Tom and his mother.

"Really?" Harry hadn't expected him to guess right. His eyes gleamed with a gossipy light. "Could you tell me more about Tom's mother? I'd love to know."

He really wanted to know what was going on.

"Tom's mother was from the Gaunt family." Professor Dumbledore rubbed his eyelids and told Harry the information he had gathered, "Her name was Merope Gaunt, the daughter of Marvolo Gaunt, which is the origin of Tom's middle name."

"Merope was born with little magic and suffered cold treatment from her family. She received no love at home and was even deeply hurt by them."

Dumbledore paused at this point.

Harry was not surprised by any of this. He was born with very little magic and would be looked down upon in other wizarding families, let alone the Gaunt family.

Harry felt that Dumbledore even hiding something. Given the Gaunt family's inherently evil ways, this Merope Gaunt must have been tortured by the Cruciatus Curse at home.

No, the Cruciatus Curse is more like an appetizer for the Gaunt family.

Besides the Cruciatus Curse," there should be even more forms of emotional abuse, which is what truly makes domestic violence unbearable.

"The wealthy and handsome Muggle young master Tom Riddle often rode past Gaunt House, and the unremarkable Merope was deeply attracted to his dashing appearance," Professor Dumbledore recounted. "But she knew that her father and brother would strongly oppose her association with Muggle, and that the arrogant and domineering Tom would certainly ridicule and despise her."

"A young girl's feelings cannot be hidden. After discovering Merope's feelings for Riddle, her brother Morfin Gaunt and her father Marvolo felt deeply humiliated. As a descendant of Slytherin, it was unacceptable for her to fall in love with a Muggle. So they were willing to break the law to attack Riddle in their anger."

"So, they were arrested by the Ministry of Magic, and during this time, in order to win her heart, Merope selfishly used Love Potion to make Riddle forget his original fiancée and fall in love with her, and then married her."

"However, Merope believed she had the child as leverage and gambled that Tom would choose to stay with her for the sake of the child. So she told Tom that she was a witch and that she had used Love Potion to make Tom fall in love with her. Feeling tricked, Tom was furious and chose to abandon her."

"Pregnant Merope was kicked out of the house, and on a snowy night, she gave birth to her son in a Muggle orphanage." Professor Dumbledore sighed as he said this, "This is the story of Tom, Voldemort's mother."

"And what about Merope?" Harry asked anxiously, eager to know the truth so he could give Voldemort another good verbal taunt the next time they met.

"Considering that even witches with weak magic rarely die in childbirth, I personally believe she won't die from it." After a moment of contemplation, Professor Dumbledore continued, "I'm more inclined to believe that she lost the will to live after being abandoned by Old Riddle, and didn't want to raise the child, so she left him in the orphanage to fend for himself."

Harry slowly opened his mouth wide.

He felt he might have a talent for Prophecy?

Good heavens, he swears, he made it up in the basement, just to make Voldemort lose his mind.

But to everyone's surprise, what he made up... turned out to be true?

"What's wrong?" Professor Dumbledore asked with concern.

Harry shook his head and said to Dumbledore, "I just remembered what I said to Voldemort in the basement earlier."

"What did you say?" Dumbledore asked.

Harry covered his face and said, "I'm telling you, Voldemort, you're just a pathetic wretch no one loves. Your mother despised you so much that she abandoned you and threw you into an orphanage..."

To be honest, Harry didn't think he shouldn't have said those things; he just didn't want Dumbledore to see the barely suppressed smile on his face.

My God, how wonderful it is to be able to verbally tear Voldemort to Voldemort!

Harry felt that he should not only defeat Voldemort with Charms, but also verbally defeat Voldemort so that he would never be able to hold his head up high again.

It's not enough to just kill people; you also need to destroy their spirit!

Dumbledore's expression turned strange.

No, Harry...

Why do you say things that are like knives, stabbing Voldemort in the heart?

As we all know, lies don't hurt, but the truth is the sharpest knife.

If you say "Your mother doesn't love you" to a happy and content child, that child might not care much, or they might explain to you that their mother loves them very much.

But those words, spoken by Voldemort, were truly devastating, dealing critical damage and real harm.

"You're a bit..." Professor Dumbledore looked at Harry with a strange expression, but ultimately chose to give Harry a thumbs up. "You've become quite eloquent."

What else can we say?

Dumbledore was actually aware of Harry's experiences with the Dursley family over the years. Since the child couldn't be beaten, it was quite reasonable for him to develop a sharp tongue to retaliate.

However, in his opinion, the Dursley family were not really worth his time—because his childhood was far more brutal than that of the Dursley family, and he even suffered the same treatment as Jesus, with two holes in his hands.

Hogwarts back then was much wilder than it is now. Even in wizarding homes of that era, corporal punishment was commonplace.

"Thank you, Professor." Harry accepted Dumbledore's praise.

Let's just call it a compliment; he didn't really care anyway.

"However..." Harry suddenly said, "I remember now, Professor, that Notebook that was popular in Slytherin last year seems to be haunted by a ghost called ' Merope '."

"Merope?" Professor Dumbledore was startled. He recalled what Snape had told him earlier, "What do you know about this Notebook?"

"Miss Farley told me," Harry answered truthfully. "But I didn't know much about it—I felt something was off at the time, and now it seems that this ' Merope ' was Voldemort in disguise, using his mother's name."

"Looks like he still longs for love," Harry said disdainfully. "Look at this poor wretch who has no mother's love, using his mother's name as an alias..."

To say that Harry sympathized with Tom was an understatement; he didn't sympathize with him at all.

Not only did they not sympathize with Tom, they even felt a little amused, in a gloating way.

"No, Harry, you've got something wrong." Professor Dumbledore sighed. "Tom is a product of the Love Potion; he's naturally emotionally detached and doesn't understand what love is."

"No wonder he's so bad, he doesn't even have any friends. So that's where the problem lies." Harry nodded repeatedly. "Actually, you should have solved the problem before it happened, instead of waiting until now to try and fix it."

Before this, he thought that Dumbledore's teaching methods were flawed, causing Tom to go astray and become a twisted and evil thing like Voldemort.

But after listening to Dumbledore's explanation, he realized that even if the four Dumbledore leaders took turns educating Tom, they wouldn't be able to get him on the right track. This guy was born to walk the path of evil.

The biggest mistake Dumbledore was not sending Tom away sooner.

In a magical sense.

Professor Dumbledore glanced at Harry and said, "But that's no reason for us to view him with prejudice. Harry... the way he was before..."

"That's your indecisiveness," Harry sneered repeatedly. "Look at the monster you've created! This inherently evil creature is beyond redemption—your choice has come at the cost of thousands of lives. Look at the destruction he's caused."

Having spent more than five years there a century ago, Harry has seen far too much.

He also had inappropriate thoughts of being a saint, but reality shattered them completely.

He once spared a Dark Wizard out of pity, but little did he know that a year later he would almost take the wizard's life.

If Cassandra hadn't shielded him from that Charms, he might have already met Merlin.

Redemption?

Redeeming Tom is Merlin's job; my responsibility is to send him to see Merlin!

"Judging from the outcome, you were right," Professor Dumbledore sighed. "But if it were you, you might not have been able to make that decision."

Harry thought to himself that he might not be able to do it, but Cassandra and Veratia certainly could.

"Professor, have you investigated the Basilisk issue at the school?" Harry steered the conversation to the main point. "Who at Hogwarts actually has Gaunt family blood?"

Professor Dumbledore shook his head and said, "No, the Gaunt family is now extinct; there are no descendants left in the world..."

A moment of silence fell between them.

"I just went to the Map Chamber, Professor," Harry said again. "Professor Rackham's analysis is that the person controlling the Basilisk is definitely a student from Hogwarts."

"Why do you say that?" Professor Dumbledore asked, looking up.

"Because of your martial law order," Harry said. "Now Hogwarts students can only move around in small groups in their dormitories, and they can hardly leave the Common Room —I just saw Professor Snape sitting in front of the Slytherin Common Room, keeping watch. He's really dedicated."

"Severus is indeed a competent professor," said Dumbledore, "But... no, I see now!"

He suddenly froze, because he remembered the Notebook Snape had mentioned to him earlier.

"What's wrong, Professor?" Harry asked curiously.

"The Notebook," Professor Dumbledore said succinctly. "That Notebook must still be in Hogwarts. Voldemort, like Merope last year, is controlling the students—that makes sense. Someone without the Gaunt blood can control the Basilisk because that person is controlled by Tom!"

"That makes sense," Harry nodded. "So, how can we find that Notebook?"

"Then we'll have to investigate," Professor Dumbledore said. "I think I should borrow some tools from the Ministry of Magic to test for Dark Arts items and conduct tests in all four houses."

"Do you think you can find it?" Harry asked tentatively.

"It's better than doing nothing, Harry," Dumbledore sighed, then added, "Do you have any leads on the monster?"

"I asked Professor Binns," Harry said. "But Professor Binns thinks it's just a myth, not that it actually exists. His reasoning is that if the Chamber of Secrets really existed, Hogwarts would have found it after all these years, with so many Headmaster and so many Chamber of Secrets."

"But no," Professor Dumbledore's half-moon spectacles flashed, "But recent events prove that this Chamber of Secrets should indeed exist."

"So besides finding this Notebook, we also need to find the Chamber of Secrets of Secrets," Harry said seriously. "We have to eliminate the Basilisk that's lurking in Hogwarts. Even if it's Basilisk kept by Slytherin, or even Slytherin himself, it won't do!"

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