Chapter 66: Dumbledore's Heir?

Chapter 66: Dumbledore's Heir?

As the trio emerged from the hospital wing, their faces were lit up with radiant smiles. Just moments ago, Dumbledore had rewarded them each with two hundred points for their exceptional courage and had also bestowed upon them the Special Contribution Award of the school.

Of course, some points had to be deducted as well—past transgressions against school rules were left unaccounted for. However, for their recent actions, each member of the trio had lost twenty points for defying orders to stay out, Ron had lost fifty points for his improper behavior towards Professor Lockhart, and on top of that, he was assigned a month of detention.

Nonetheless, they had secured a staggering four hundred and ninety points for their own house all at once.

This essentially meant that Gryffindor had sealed the House Cup well in advance.

"I reckon it was worth it!" Ron, even with a month's detention ahead, had no complaints.

If they managed to win the Quidditch Cup as well, this year would truly be perfect... Harry couldn't help but think with a touch of greed. But there was still a chance!

In their final conversation, Harry had a private exchange with Dumbledore. In this intimate dialogue, he mustered the courage to voice a lingering doubt—whether he had been sorted into the wrong house. After all, the Sorting Hat had strongly hinted that if he were in Slytherin, he could achieve great things.

Dumbledore's words, however, put his mind at ease. Pointing to Gryffindor's sword on the table, he said, "Only a true Gryffindor could have pulled it out of the Hat."

Harry had also learned the reason behind his Parseltongue ability. According to the Headmaster, Voldemort had transferred a part of his own abilities into Harry's body that fateful night.

This left Harry utterly astonished.The inaugural upload of this chapter took place via N0v3l-B1n.

"Living by one's choices is more meaningful than dwelling on an unchangeable past," Dumbledore told him.

...

The night had fallen completely, and the shadow that had hung over Hogwarts for two whole months had finally dissipated.

Ron suddenly spoke up, "What do you reckon Professor Harp meant just now? About Gryffindor and Slytherin and all that..."

Thinking of his own actions tonight, Harry responded thoughtfully, "I guess it might be about the values different houses emphasize. Like Gryffindor valuing courage, and Slytherin valuing cunning."

"Y'know, I almost forgot that Professor Harp was a Slytherin," Ron muttered under his breath.

Hermione remained silent, recalling her first private lesson in magical linguistics when Professor Harp had expressed particular interest in the Sorting Hat. His exact words were, "Perhaps I should find an opportunity to reintroduce myself to it."

The young witch thought that the professor might just be looking for an excuse to try on the Sorting Hat again...

Back in the common room, the three huddled in a corner, exchanging their newfound insights. Hermione's words intrigued them the most; the three professors had been standing by from start to finish.

"How could they just stand there?" Ron complained indignantly, having felt at death's door several times.

"With them around, our lives aren't in danger," Hermione analyzed rationally.

"Dumbledore, what should we do then?"

"We just need to wait." Dumbledore's gaze seemed to pierce through the ceiling of the Chamber, seeing a far-off horizon.

Felix and Snape, in a series of exchanges, laid out a preliminary plan for dividing up the serpent's materials.

Felix also found Lockhart's wand. After cleansing it several times with the "Aguamenti" charm, aside from an unshakable strong odor, its appearance gave away nothing of its recent history.

Hopefully Lockhart wouldn't mind.

Afterwards, they moved the serpent's corpse into an abandoned classroom and magically sealed the door—once the school made the announcement, they would disassemble the serpent.

When Felix returned to his office, he realized it was nearly nine o'clock.

Hogwarts was under curfew, with few people in the corridors, but it wouldn't be long before the hustle and bustle of old returned.

Sitting on his couch, Felix continued pondering about the Chamber.

The Chamber was found, the serpent was defeated, but there still remained a Slytherin heir within the castle.

Or more precisely, in Felix's mind, a certain young wizard controlled by a piece of Voldemort's soul.

How could they expose them?

And if they stirred up serious trouble, the thought of Hogwarts being closed for two months for a thorough inspection was unacceptable.

Felix contemplated strategies for dealing with this quandary when a hurried knocking on the door interrupted his thoughts.

He opened the door to find a rather unexpected young wizard—Draco Malfoy.

Strangely, Malfoy appeared quite pale, sweat beads forming on the tip of his nose. He clutched a long scarf with deep green stripes tightly in his hand—on the other end of the scarf, about two meters away, trailed an ordinary black book.

It was evident that Malfoy was making every effort to keep his distance from that thing.

"Please come in, Mr. Malfoy," Felix said, his intuition telling him that tonight would be quite eventful.

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