"Can you finally tell me the secret behind this notebook now?" Hermione was still fixated on it.
"Let me ask first—Miss Granger, famously known as 'the encyclopedia,' have you ever heard of the term Horcrux?"
Harry had expected her to say no, but to his surprise, Hermione said, "Horcrux? That term… let me think, I think I've seen it before… where was it?"
In her frustration, Hermione clawed at her hair, flaring up like Crookshanks with its fur bristling.
After a few moments, she suddenly froze, her eyes lighting up. "I remember! I saw it in The Chronological Evolution of Ancient Magic. But it was only mentioned in passing, without any detailed explanation—not even what it looked like or what it did."
"The reason I remembered it is because of one line the author wrote. He said, 'This magic is purely theoretical, for if anyone truly used it… they would likely no longer be considered human.'"
Harry: "…"
He hadn't expected such a forbidden book to be accessible in the library's general section for student lending.
Of course, to be fair, there was nothing technically wrong with the book. For anyone who didn't already know what a Horcrux was, that one line wouldn't mean much.
Still, Harry was surprised that Hermione had even read some obscure old book tucked away in a forgotten corner.
Smiling, Harry praised her and ruffled her messy hair. "Not bad, not bad. You really do read thoroughly—keep it up."
Then he continued, "A Horcrux is an object tied to the soul. It began as a hypothesis: if one were to split their soul in half and anchor one part into an object, then even if their body died, the remnant of their soul would persist. In a way… that's a form of immortality."
"Splitting the soul?" Hermione immediately looked disgusted. Just hearing the phrase made her skin crawl.
Harry didn't tell her that splitting the soul required committing murder.
Suddenly, Hermione realized she had only asked Harry about the notebook, and yet he'd gone off about Horcruxes.
"Ah!" she shrieked and, with a horrified expression, tossed the notebook at Harry like it was something vile.
"Ha ha!" Harry couldn't help laughing at her reaction.
Hermione was repulsed by Horcruxes, but not afraid—only because she didn't yet know who this Horcrux had belonged to.
Harry asked, "Want to know whose Horcrux this is?"
Hermione kept her distance, as if the thing was cursed. "Why would I want to know that?!"
"Oh, but you do know," Harry replied with a wicked grin.
As expected, Hermione reflexively began thinking. If Harry said she already knew the person, then it had to be someone extremely well-known.
"Dumbledore?" she guessed first.
After all, ask any wizard to name the first wizard who comes to mind, and it'd almost always be Albus Dumbledore.
"No? Then… Professor Snape? He's cold, reclusive, and powerful. But would Professor Dumbledore really keep someone like that at school?"
"Grindelwald? The dark wizard who rose to power a century ago, Dumbledore's greatest rival… he once ruled over half the magical world…"
Suddenly, Hermione's face went pale. Trembling, she stared at Harry and saw the answer written clearly in his expression.
"Uuuhhh…" Hermione burst into tears.
Harry was stunned. She actually started crying?
Was the name that terrifying?
He hugged her and said, "I thought you were smart, but turns out you're just a big dummy—believing whatever you're told."
"Huh?" Hermione sniffled, still in his arms.
"It's just a notebook. I made up all that stuff about Horcruxes and said it contained you-know-who's soul just to tease you. I can't believe you actually fell for it. I'm seriously worried someone could just trick you off the street one day." Harry coaxed.
Hermione stopped crying, pulled away from him, cheeks flushed, and swatted at him. "You're still trying to lie to me!"
Well, at least she wasn't crying anymore.
"I wasn't lying. Just now I was lying," Harry said with a straight face.
Hermione: "…"
Harry: "…"
"…Tell me the truth. About this notebook. Is it real or not?" Hermione was still sniffling a little.
"No lying," she emphasized.
"Well… what do you want to hear?" Harry teased.
Hermione let out a giggle.
She quickly suppressed her smile and put on a stern face. "The truth, of course!"
Harry glanced at her legs and said, "I'll tell you when you're standing properly."
Blushing furiously, Hermione stomped on his foot.
"If you're not scared anymore, then I'll tell you the full story," Harry said.
He hadn't expected such a strong reaction from Hermione. He had just meant to inform her—but apparently this ran deeper than he thought.
It made sense though. Hermione had grown up in the Muggle world, where the scariest threat a child might hear is "Be good or the police will take you." She had no ingrained fear of Voldemort's name.
Witch-born children, however, often heard: "Be good or Voldemort will come get you."
That's how his shadow grew in their minds.
After a moment of silence, Hermione whispered, "Okay."
"Let's burn the book," she said, sounding resolute.
Harry: ??? Wait, what?
Then he smiled. "Sure."
The two of them went to buy the rest of the second-year supplies, then returned to the Leaky Cauldron.
But ordinary fire wasn't enough to destroy Voldemort's Horcrux. He had cast countless spells on the notebook: waterproof, fireproof, even electric-proof.
Harry could destroy it using magic—like how Hufflepuff's Cup was burned by Crabbe with Fiendfyre—but he wasn't sure what kind of defenses the Horcrux might have. He could get hurt in the process.
There was also another reason: the Trace.
Damn the Trace. Such a disgusting surveillance measure.
Harry frowned deeply.
Hermione stared dumbfounded as the book remained completely untouched by the flames.
It didn't even occur to her to use magic. She was a rule-abiding student through and through—and the rule clearly said no underage magic outside of school. So she followed it religiously.
"…What was he like? You-Know-Who, I mean," Hermione asked suddenly. "The books only say he was evil and hideous, but none of them show any pictures."
Harry replied, "Why don't you say his name?"
"I…" Hermione stammered.
That was her problem—she learned too fast. In just one year, she had picked up the same deeply-ingrained fear that had taken wizard-borns twelve years to develop.
"Sigh." Harry let out a long breath.
"Voldemort is an idiot. Voldemort is trash. Voldemort is a stupid pig, lower than a beast!" Harry suddenly cursed out loud.
"You—you—" Hermione was stunned, pointing at him in disbelief.
Harry smiled. "See? I'm perfectly fine."
"Do you know why everyone avoids saying his name?" he asked.
"Because… I heard he cursed it. If anyone writes it down or says it out loud, he can sense it and punish them," Hermione answered.
"Exactly. Voldemort was clever. While others relied on massacres to instill fear, he did it with a simple spell."
"What's more terrifying than not even daring to say his name? He only had to punish the first two people who spoke it—kill them, and then let the tale spread. Soon, no one dared to say his name, fearing they'd be next. The less it's spoken, the more mysterious and terrifying he becomes."
"He even got people to start calling him 'He Who Must Not Be Named' or 'You-Know-Who.' Honestly, it's hilarious. He only ever killed two people for saying his name, but it's like everyone thinks he slaughtered half the wizarding world."
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⚡🦉 THE REBIRTH OF HARRY POTTER 🦉⚡
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