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After cleaning up Quirrell's ashes and placing them carefully in a jar—a rather morbid souvenir, Aiden thought—he prepared to find a quiet place to bury them in peace.
After all, Aiden was the one who had effectively broken the man's bones, metaphorically speaking. Based on his experience, some respect for the dead was in order.
The deceased Quirrell, if he could somehow perceive this, might have thought: "I thank you so much."
Aiden then followed Dumbledore to the headmaster's office.
"Tea or coffee?" Dumbledore asked, gesturing toward two gleaming jars.
"Tea, thank you," Aiden replied, settling into a comfortable armchair as if he were back home, utterly at ease.
"So, how are they performing?"
Dumbledore asked casually as he began to prepare the tea with practiced movements.
"Hermione is intelligent, quick-witted, rigorous in her thinking, passionate about learning, and remarkably reasonable," Aiden said thoughtfully. "She's very well-suited to be an Unspeakable. As for Ron, well, he has the classic Weasley personality, which is a good thing. Though I suspect my aunt and uncle's wisdom was somehow consumed by him at birth. The only other thing particularly worth mentioning is the Weasley bloodline itself, which seems strong in him."
Aiden paused, considering Harry. "Sincere, brave, surprisingly calm at critical moments, and able to transform sacrifice into tangible results."
Aiden took the cup of tea Dumbledore handed him and took a slow sip, appreciating the blend. He had worked hard to look after Dumbledore's protégés, after all, so what was wrong with enjoying a few cups of his tea?
"And putting aside their individual characteristics, have you noticed anything else, Aiden?"
Aiden looked directly into Dumbledore's eyes, his heterochromatic pupils seeming to see through the old wizard's carefully constructed façade.
"I suspect that Harry may have some kind of unusually strong connection with Voldemort, a psychic link of sorts, which gives him some of Tom's… less desirable characteristics."
Dumbledore knew Aiden's abilities and didn't attempt to change the subject or deflect.
"So, you equipped him with a guard and a strategist and then let Harry be the commander. What is this, a Savior Squad?"
Aiden asked, a hint of irritation in his voice as he retorted to Dumbledore.
"Don't be so harsh on an old man, Aiden," Dumbledore said, his tone gentler now. "The future ultimately belongs to you young people, whether I like it or not. And even if I didn't intervene, your brothers would inevitably be involved in this conflict. It's a tacit understanding between Arthur, Molly, and myself."
"They know that too?" Aiden asked in surprise.
"Of course, Aiden. They've known from the beginning," Dumbledore said, offering a knowing wink.
"Alright, enough of the digressions. Tell me about your own findings, Aiden. Otherwise, you wouldn't have suddenly intervened in a situation you normally would avoid."
"Findings, yes. Simply put, two things," Aiden said, finally getting comfortable.
Aiden sank deeper into the plush sofa cushions, stretching like a lazy cat.
"The first thing is that one of your most outstanding students, Tom Riddle, has a… rather distorted mental world. Muggle medical terms would generally classify this kind of person as suffering from a mental disorder; simply put, he's quite mad."
Aiden paused, then added, "But this is not entirely a bad thing. A twisted mind means the weakening of the mental body. If you have the opportunity to meet him again, pull him into the Distorted Illusion. It wouldn't be a problem for you to defeat ten of him single-handedly in that environment."
After speaking, Aiden stretched languidly on the sofa, adjusting himself to a more comfortable position.
"No, I can't do it, Aiden." Dumbledore shook his head slowly.
"Can't do it? Have you fallen in love with him? He's not your old lover," Aiden asked, a hint of genuine surprise in his voice.
"It's guilt, Aiden. People often become burdened with it as they get older, less certain than they were in their youth," Dumbledore said, his voice tinged with regret. "I have inadvertently created two Dark Lords in my lifetime, which makes me feel extremely self-reproaching. Stepping into the Distorted Illusion with that kind of mentality… I fear I might sink into it forever." Dumbledore offered a wry, self-deprecating smile.
Aiden released a gentle, soothing wave of magic for Dumbledore, attempting to calm his troubled mood.
"Hoh, that's troublesome indeed. Well then, there's the second thing. Tom Riddle, your star pupil, his soul is… incomplete," Aiden said with a faint, knowing smile.
"An incomplete soul… It seems like I've heard something about that before," Dumbledore said, stroking his beard thoughtfully.
"Of course you have. It's in Cutting-Edge Dark Arts Secrets, page ninety-two, line forty-five," Aiden replied dryly.
"A Horcrux!!??" Dumbledore reacted, his eyes widening slightly behind his half-moon spectacles.
"I see. So that's Tom's secret to achieving immortality," Dumbledore said softly, standing up from his chair and beginning to pace back and forth across the office.
"Wait a moment. How do you know about this, Aiden?" Dumbledore asked, suddenly stopping in his tracks. He'd spotted the logical flaw.
"Oh, that? I simply went to the Restricted Section. Although, I will say, the book Cutting-Edge Dark Arts Secrets only has a very brief introduction about Horcruxes, just enough to whet your curiosity."
Aiden flipped over languidly on the sofa cushions again, finding a new comfortable position.
"My family's collection of books has a far more complete record, including detailed production methods and the necessary rituals. Would you be interested in seeing it?"
Dumbledore stared at Aiden, speechless, for a moment.
"Listen, Aiden, this is…," Dumbledore began carefully.
But Aiden casually interrupted him.
"This magic is extremely dangerous, Professor. Too evil. This kind of magic would be incredibly harmful, and it would tear apart my own path forward.
Splitting the soul is a stupid idea that Herpo the Foul came up with out of his own self-righteous cleverness.
An incomplete soul will inevitably lead to a distorted mind, and the two are inextricably linked.
And the distortion of the mind also means that any wizard's path to further advancement is completely blocked."
Dumbledore looked at Aiden, now sprawling comfortably on the sofa, and a genuine smile touched his lips.
"Okay, it's good that you understand, Aiden. Speaking of which, do you truly not desire eternal life?"
"Eternal life? I'm still so young. Why would I want that kind of thing?"
Aiden rolled his eyes dramatically at Dumbledore.
Besides, how can people truly crave something that is so readily available to them?
"Ding, The Path of the Dark Lord . . . ."
"Oh, shut up, please," Aiden muttered under his breath.
"Ding, The System has detected that the Host has become increasingly disrespectful toward the System in recent days."
"…," Aiden replied, internally exasperated.
Just as Aiden was mentally arguing with the System, Dumbledore seemed to come back to his senses, shaking off his pensive mood.
"Alright, it's very late now, Aiden. A well-behaved young wizard should be obediently heading off to bed at this hour," Dumbledore said, his tone now brisk and dismissive.
The old wizard was clearly trying to chase him away. Aiden, not wanting to continue arguing, simply left the headmaster's office in a puff of displaced air.
Silence fell in the headmaster's office.
The night sky spread over Hogwarts like a heavy velvet cloth, with stars dotted across it like countless watchful eyes, silently observing everything that occurred within the ancient castle.
At this moment, Aiden felt physically and mentally exhausted and longed to return to the peace and quiet of the towering Ravenclaw Tower, seeking a trace of comfort.
Aiden walked through the dimly lit corridor, the soft light from the wall lamps casting long, mottled shadows on his face.
When he finally reached the entrance to the Ravenclaw common room, the wise bronze eagle statue patiently awaited him, ready to pose its customary question.
Inside the common room, the fire crackled merrily in the hearth, casting a warm glow on the neatly arranged books on the shelves and the comfortable armchairs, creating an atmosphere of studious calm.
Aiden returned to his dormitory, where the rhythmic snoring of his three silly roommates rose and fell in a familiar, comforting pattern.
Having learned from his last encounter, Aiden no longer dared to use the Stupefy charm and instead cast a quiet Silencio spell on himself before climbing into bed.
Pulling his beloved little quilt around himself, Aiden quickly fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.
The next day, Aiden woke up refreshed from his slumber. After washing up, he headed to the Great Hall to enjoy a hearty breakfast.
Inside the hall, the young wizards were excitedly discussing the latest gossip, the news that the Savior had defeated the Dark Lord and successfully protected the Philosopher's Stone. It had spread like wildfire through the school.
That old man has started the campaign for making Harry a Savior Aiden mused idly, his thoughts flitting here and there as he gently stroked Lada, who was curled up contentedly in his lap.
At the Gryffindor table, Hermione was, for once, experiencing the sensation of being surrounded by adoring admirers, a welcome change from being the studious outcast.
Her two "useless sons," as Aiden thought of Ron and Harry, were still recuperating in the hospital wing, leaving her alone to face the storm of questions from eager classmates.
Aiden, meanwhile, found himself accosted by his three silly roommates.
"Aiden, why are you so calm? Do you know any inside information about what happened?" Edmund asked, looking amused.
"Tell the truth now," Ethan chimed in, nudging Aiden playfully.
"Otherwise, we'll resort to torture," Oliver concluded dramatically.
"Yeah, I simply attended the Savior Squad's rave party last night and then casually defeated a crippled Dark Lord in the process," Aiden joked, rolling his eyes.
"Tsk, boring. If you're going to lie, at least make it a little more believable," his roommates replied in unison, clearly unimpressed.
Aiden simply smiled and said nothing.
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