303 0302 The Price

Bryan recounted his journey, his voice echoing slightly in the vastness of the room. "--The Whomping Willow by the Quidditch pitch. I learned from Harry that it is a secret passage that even Fudge didn't know about. Following that passage, I arrived at the Shrieking Shack. And that night, it was cold, so Sirius left the cave where he usually hid to avoid the heavy snow--" 

"A wonderful coincidence--" Dumbledore interjected, his voice tinged with a note of admiration. "Thanks to this coincidence, you found Sirius and uncovered the truth, preventing us from continuing down the wrong path."

A heavy sigh escaped Dumbledore's lips, a sound that seemed to carry the weight of countless regrets. "This incident has once again proven that I am prone to mistakes in crucial matters. I don't wish to make excuses for myself, Bryan, but I did find it odd that Sirius would betray the Potters, yet grief over their demise clouded my judgment, and I never took the time to speak with Sirius properly. This tragedy could have been avoided, and now, because of Peter, so many have been hurt, including a innocent young wizard—"

Setting aside the others, Draco was indeed unfortunate, having been controlled by Peter's Imperius Curse for so long. This could indeed be considered an oversight by Dumbledore and Bryan.

"Regarding Draco's situation—" Bryan pondered for a moment, "I'll find an opportunity to talk with Lucius. It's foreseeable that he will be angry about what happened to Draco, but considering that I helped him solve a problem, I think he will remain quiet."

Dumbledore shook his head, his face full of guilt. Bryan understood that Dumbledore was not concerned about Lucius Malfoy's anger and revenge. It was Draco's well-being that weighed heavily on his conscience.

"The outcome is good, isn't it, Headmaster? We can't cover everything perfectly—" Dumbledore's self-reproachful expression touched Bryan, and he comforted him.

"Yes, indeed, despite some costs, we've managed to correct the mistakes made—" Dumbledore took a deep breath, his dejection fading.

"I have some good news to share with you, Bryan—" The lines of age on Dumbledore's face softened, and a spark of vitality returned to his eyes.

"Do you remember what I've been searching for all this time?"

"Voldemort's Horcruxes?" Bryan's eyes narrowed with intensity. "You found that House elf—"

"Underneath an abandoned bridge in London—" Dumbledore's beard quivered with a hint of relief in his voice, "When I found it, the poor creature was in a pitiable state, bewildered and clinging to life, but fortunately, I still managed to find some extremely valuable clues from its memory—"

Bryan had already destroyed two of Voldemort's Horcruxes and could no longer remain uninvolved. Dumbledore did not keep him in suspense and happily said, 

"Similar to the diadem, this is yet another artifact left by the founders of Hogwarts. Tom harbored a peculiar fascination for these relics!"

Uh— Bryan's expression subtly changed as he watched the enthusiastic Dumbledore.

"There are two items in total, one belonging to Hufflepuff—a golden cup, and the other of even greater significance to Tom—a delicate locket once the possession of Salazar Slytherin himself!"

Dumbledore drew his wand and concentrated as he moved it in front of him, silver mist rising from the tip of the elder wand, converging into the shapes of the cup and locket in mid-air.

After completing this, Dumbledore turned to Bryan, expecting to see a face of surprise, but Bryan's peculiar expression left him puzzled.

"What's wrong, Bryan?" Dumbledore furrowed his brow and asked in a serious tone, "Is there something off?" 

"Nothing. This locket looks familiar, like this one of mine." After rummaging in his chest for a moment, Bryan pulled out a gold chain.

The swaying locket reflected the pale morning light on Dumbledore's astonished, aged cheeks.

"Same old price, Headmaster?" Bryan blinked, asking earnestly.

*Silence*

As dawn's first light kissed the horizon, a celestial halo that once shimmered with the promise of a new day began to fade into a somber gray. 

The world outside lay under a veil of silence, broken only by the mournful howl of the wind. It danced a wild, whistling ballet through the ancient stone towers of Hogwarts, weaving through corridors that bore the scars of countless storms, its breath rattling the windows in their frames.

The gusts that invaded the office played with Dumbledore's silver-white beard, lifting it like the wings of a great bird, revealing his slightly open mouth in front of Bryan.

"This is… real," he whispered, a murmur lost amidst the sound of the storm. His eyes, the color of a stormy sea and just as deep, peered over the rims of his half-moon spectacles, fixated on the object that dangled before him—a locket, its surface catching the flickering light of the fire.

"Guaranteed genuine, I nearly emptied my coffers to acquire it!" Bryan spoke with feigned heartache.

"Bryan—" Dumbledore's voice trailed off, a fleeting shadow of helplessness flickered across his features, quickly replaced by a renewed focus on the locket. "No doubt about it. It's the crest of the Slytherin House… I see, There is powerful dark magic inside, and something is hidden in it. But…"

His gaze, now sharp and probing, turned to Bryan, not concealing the shock and confusion that danced within.

"Where on earth did you find this—" Dumbledore paused, the words hanging in the air like the storm clouds outside, "Could it be, Lucius Malfoy again? You just told me you did him a favor."

Bryan watched, a smug satisfaction curling the corners of his mouth. When Lucius came to him for help in finding the "Golden Viper" earlier, he generously gave him rubies worth ten thousand Galleons. And not long ago, Cornelius Fudge himself had assured him that the Ministry of Magic would not forget his contributions and efforts. Another generous reward was undoubtedly on its way.

Alas! Years of 'hard' work had finally paid off. Bryan could now stand tall, his head held high, and call himself a "successful person" in every sense of the word. Those 'mere' eight thousand Galleons were no longer worth his attention now!

Boom!

The heavens roared in fury as the dense clouds above seemed to buckle under the weight of their own darkness. Lightning, fierce and unforgiving, tore across the sky, its brilliance a stark contrast to the gloom that enveloped the world. The thunder that followed was a clarion call, a declaration of the storm's dominion over the earth. Rain cascaded down in torrents, a deluge that swept across the land with the ferocity of a waterfall, its relentless drumming punctuated by the occasional snap of trees yielding to the tempest's might.

This sudden downpour disrupted the stillness that had settled over the world, yet it rendered the empty halls of Hogwarts Castle even more silent. The young wizards within its walls slumbered on, lost in dreams, as did the diligent staff. Only Bryan's office, bathed in the warm glow of firelight, stood as a beacon against the night.

"I destroyed the cave where Voldemort had this, and brought Regulus back with Sirius and others. Sirius thought his brother should have a decent funeral, but his situation obviously couldn't make it happen, so he temporarily placed Regulus in the Black Manor. The fake Locket contains a note left by Regulus to Voldemort…

To the Dark Lord, 

I know I will be dead long before you read this,

but I want you to know that it was I who discovered your secret.

I have stolen the real Horcrux and intend to destroy it as soon as I can.

I face death in the hope that when you meet your match, you will be mortal once more.

-R.A.B."

Bryan's voice, calm and steady, faded into the symphony of rain and thunder that filled the office.

Dumbledore remained silent, his expression one of profound shock, deeper than when he first laid eyes on the locket. It was evident that he was deeply moved.

His eyes, wide and brimming with unshed tears, seemed to reflect a world of emotion. He drew in a heavy breath and let out a sigh, "What a noble soul, a true hero, worthy of respect…"

Then, as if ignited by an unseen flame, Dumbledore's demeanor shifted. He stood up abruptly and excitedly walked around Bryan's office, looking like a motivated warrior.

"Look, Bryan," he exclaimed, his voice booming above the storm's din, "The story of this Locket, the story of Regulus, they once again prove how ignorant and pitiful Voldemort is! He thought his power could make everyone submit, he thought the threat of fear and death could make everyone surrender. But in fact, those souls with love and courage will eventually shine. There will always be wise men who can see through that wizards like him are humble and powerless!"

Bryan remained unmoved, even casting a disdainful glance at a crystal-clear lump on the sofa, left by Dumbledore's recent nose-blowing. 

"We have taken another big step forward!" Dumbledore's voice broke through the stillness, his tone brimming with an excitement that seemed to infuse the very air with electricity. "The diary, Ravenclaw's diadem, Slytherin's locket, and Hufflepuff's cup— we have destroyed two and obtained one. There is one left, and I at least know it is a Horcrux. How many more do we not know? How many times has Tom split his soul? Oh, I don't think there are many more that we don't know, right, Bryan? In theory, a soul can split countless times, but even I can't guarantee that after splitting the soul ten times, there will still be a complete personality!"

Bryan's expression remained composed, but a subtle twitch of his brow betrayed a flicker of unease. In terms of knowledge about souls, his reserves were far from comparable to Dumbledore's. After all, Dumbledore seemed to have crossed some kind of boundary and could directly perceive souls.

Since his return to Hogwarts, in the aura of Dumbledore— the sense of threat he could bring as the greatest wizard of this generation has been decreasing in Bryan's eyes. Particularly after undergoing the second arcane transformation on the mystical Isle of Avalon, the disparity in their magical prowess had narrowed significantly. However, this sense of threat has never completely disappeared.

The strength of the soul— This was the information inadvertently revealed in Dumbledore's words.

A memory surfaced in Bryan's mind, unbidden: the 'Jellyfish World' depicted in the ancient murals within the central temple on the Isle of Avalon. Theoretically, Merlin of his time, the revered founders of Hogwarts from a millennium past, and Dumbledore of the present era should stand as equals in power. Yet, as the sands of time shifted, their performances in terms of power are vastly different.

"Let me see this Locket, Bryan," Dumbledore finally calmed down a bit. He walked over in big strides and took the Locket from Bryan's hand, carefully examining it.

"Have you tried to destroy it, Bryan?" he inquired, his gaze never leaving the locket.

"Voldemort's soul fragment is hidden inside the locket; I didn't want to destroy the locket by destroying that soul fragment." Bryan calmly replied.

"Ah, yes, of course," Dumbledore chuckled, his beard quivering with his laugh. "It is a relic of Salazar Slytherin, after all. To those of his house, it has extraordinary significance."

Dumbledore misunderstood the meaning, and Bryan shook his head, explaining, 

"I don't care about its historical value. but—see that rune-like symbol there, Headmaster? I seem to have seen the same on the diadem. I've consulted some texts, but still can't decipher the meaning of the characters. I was planning to ask Professor Babbling, she's an expert in this area—"

"Ah..."

Dumbledore's excessive focus on Horcruxes had cost him some of his observational skills and curiosity. The diadem had been in his possession for some time, yet he had never paid attention to those symbols.

"Come to think of it, I seem to have overlooked something important—"

Dumbledore's brow furrowed, and he squinted his eyes in contemplation, seemingly trying to recall.

"Ancient runes can be divided into two categories. One is the writing used by ancient wizards for recording. Nowadays, the Wizarding world still retains most of these records in the Runic system. The other..."

"Is more mysterious," Bryan continued, "Their appearance is only the most superficial feature of these runes; the real ones are composed of magical patterns from various dimensions, so these runes cannot be learned from books, only through hands-on teaching. Now, these runes are nearly lost. However, I'm not looking to master the magic these runes represent, Headmaster Dumbledore, I just want to understand their meaning. Perhaps, there's an annotation in some book."

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