Chapter 280: The Horcrux
"Professor, it isn't worth it."
Sean stood beside Quirrell. The wizard, whose face had been a mask of feral rage only a moment ago, now showed nothing but profound reverence.
The crowd in the bookshop was desperate to understand what was happening, but they were too intimidated to draw near.
Only Lucius Malfoy, his face deathly pale, scrambled up from the floor. He made a show of brushing himself off, surreptitiously slipping a small, black diary into the middle of Ginny's glossy new set of Lockhart books.
The farce ended abruptly. The Weasleys had never seen Lucius retreat so thoroughly, scurrying away without even a parting threat.
Harry, Hermione, and Ginny watched the scene with wide eyes. As soon as Professor Quirrell departed, Hermione approached Sean with cautious excitement.
"Professor Quirrell is the agent for Shop Number 77, Sean! And you're on such good terms with him! Oh... wait! Of course!"
"Good terms? That's an understatement!" Ron blurted out, before quickly clapping a hand over his mouth.
"You knew?" Hermione whirled around, her eyebrows raised.
The adults—the Weasleys and the Grangers—had gone to the Leaky Cauldron for a restorative drink, leaving the young wizards to their own devices.
Sean was currently flanked by Hermione and Justin. Harry and Ginny had both poked their heads into the circle, silently waiting for an explanation.
"I—I didn't know anything! How would I know?" Ron stammered, looking like he wanted to kick himself for letting it slip.
"Sean... don't tell me you're actually the one..." Hermione lowered her voice. She had suspected as much for a while, but had never dared to be certain.
"Yes," Sean nodded. To the members of the Room of Hope, he felt there was no need for further secrecy.
"You've been keeping it from us all this time!" Hermione's voice was a mix of irritation and awe.
"Technically, you never asked. I did," Ron whispered from the side.
"Ron! Not everyone is as tactless as you, prying into people's private business!" Hermione's face turned pink.
"Maybe you're right. Keeping secrets is exhausting. I'm never asking anything ever again," Ron grumbled after a few seconds, looking quite pathetic.
Hermione found herself caught between annoyance and amusement at Ron's unexpected admission. Harry and Ginny, meanwhile, were frozen in shock. They were only just beginning to grasp the magnitude of what had been revealed.
"So..." Harry murmured.
Ginny was still reeling, but something seemed to click in her mind. She pulled a copy of The Daily Prophet from her small bag. After a quick comparison of the man they had just seen with the descriptions in the paper, she confirmed it.
"You... you're the illustrious Mr. Hermes! The one who returned with all that glory!" Ginny gasped.
"Oh, what? You're surprised? Did you think he was a vampire or a werewolf or something?" Ron said habitually, before blinking. "Wait, Ginny, how did you get in here?"
The group finally noticed the young witch who had slipped into their circle. Her fiery Weasley hair was unmistakable, and now that she had been noticed, her face was turning just as red.
Even Ron, slow as he was, sensed a shift in the atmosphere. They were a group of friends who had faced dangers and shared secrets together. Ginny, however, was an outsider to the circle.
Ron instinctively stepped in front of his sister, but a calm voice drifted through the air.
"It's fine," Sean said.
"Oh—" Justin looked at Ginny thoughtfully.
"It's your secret, Sean. You decide who knows," Hermione added, lifting her chin.
"I—I'm sorry," Ginny whispered, realizing she had intruded.
"Don't worry about it," Sean said gently.
He had already spotted the black diary in her bag.
It seemed the plot was unfolding exactly as it should. Tom Riddle's diary had found its way to Ginny, and the saga of the Chamber of Secrets was about to begin.
Sean knew he had to move quickly. While the original story didn't explicitly mention lasting damage to Ginny's soul after opening herself to Riddle, Sean wasn't willing to take that risk. A Horcrux was an unpredictable, vile thing; the sooner it was dealt with, the better.
As for a solution? He was fairly certain that the ingredients he needed to neutralize a Horcrux were the same ones he required for his advanced biscuits.
Ginny, feeling unexpectedly accepted, bit her lip and stayed at the very edge of the group. Hermione's expression softened as she watched the younger girl.
"I expect you knew she was there the whole time, didn't you, Sean?" Hermione walked over to Ginny and gave Sean a knowing wink.
"Yes," Sean replied.
"See? Sean never makes mistakes. But you mustn't tell a soul, Ginny," Hermione warned.
Ginny nodded vigorously. In a few seconds, her status had shifted from "eavesdropper" to "trusted confidante."
Diagon Alley's long, cobbled street was filled with the most enticing shops in the world. The group moved through the throngs of people, purchasing their final supplies.
They passed all sorts of colorful characters: a stout, eccentric witch from the country buying supplies; frail-looking wizards debating the latest article in Transfiguration Today; scruffy-looking warlocks; and boisterous dwarves.
Even though they had visited many times, Hermione and Justin were still captivated by the sheer whimsy of the street.
They bought six large strawberry-and-peanut-butter ice creams and spent the afternoon wandering, peering into every window.
As twilight approached, a round figure tumbled out of a fireplace near the entrance to the alley.
"Neville! Why are you so late?" Hermione asked.
"After my grades came back and I was ranked seventh, Great-Uncle Algie sent me a biting top hat as 'encouragement' yesterday..."
Neville touched his slightly thinning hair and his swollen nose, tears pricking his eyes. "Aunt Enid dug out some 'Nose-Biting Beans' from the attic, and Uncle Harfang gave me an umbrella that hits you in the knees if you walk too slow..."
Listening to his list of "gifts," the group realized it was a miracle Neville had made it to Diagon Alley at all.
"Fred and George put spiders in my bed sometimes," Ron said, patting Neville's shoulder in sympathy.
Neville was quietly sniffling when he suddenly froze, terrified by the sight of a tall, dark-robed wizard approaching.
"Move," Snape commanded.
His cold, sweeping gaze passed over the group of students, landing finally on Sean.
"I'll see you at Hogwarts," Sean said softly to his friends before following Snape.
"Is it just me, or does Professor Snape seem... slightly less terrifying today?" Hermione asked, looking surprised.
"Really?" Ron scratched his head, looking unconvinced.
Hogwarts, at night.
Sean sat in his room, holding a small stone tablet. Wisps of mist were already curling off its surface, identical to the vapors he had seen in his dreams.
The Void Rune itself wasn't inherently dangerous; the danger lay in what happened once it was activated.
Sean reviewed the Beginner's Guide one last time. As the moon reached its zenith, the mist intensified, wrapping around Sean's body.
This was his first time using the Void Rune, the "Soul Hallow" of Uagadou.
After a long time—or perhaps no time at all—Sean's consciousness began to drift. He was aware of his existence, aware that he wasn't just a disembodied thought, because he was lying—definitely lying—on a solid surface. He could feel it beneath him.
He looked down at his arm. It wasn't an arm; it was a black-furred paw with white markings.
He was lying in a brilliant, pale mist. But it wasn't like any mist he had seen in the real world. It wasn't that the surroundings were obscured by vapor; it was that the vapor had not yet formed into surroundings.
The ground he lay on was white—neither hot nor cold. It was simply existence—a flat, empty void.
Within minutes, the System interface flickered before his eyes.
[Alert: You have practiced Soul Transfiguration at the standard of an Adept within the Master Realm. Master-level Proficiency +10]
This was his first time practicing as an Adept, and the proficiency had jumped simply because he was present in this realm.
His green Kneazle eyes watched as the white mist began to surge, forming strange, kaleidoscopic scenes. He quickly leaped away to avoid them.
He moved through the empty world. As he walked, trails of mist began to drift off his own body. Sean watched closely. The mist began to take shapes—some looked like a cross between a cat and a leopard, others sprouted wings...
As he focused, his consciousness began to blur, signaling the end of the session.
Suddenly, a massive black paw pressed down on his shoulder. The Kneazle wobbled and looked up, coming face-to-face with a magnificent black panther.
The panther spoke in a human voice.
"I have finally found you, my dear child. Look at you... what a natural gift you have for Alchemy and Transfiguration. The Supreme God, Katonda, does not trouble himself with the affairs of the mortal world, which is why you were led to the wrong place."
Sean was unable to speak in this form, so he merely stared at the panther in confusion.
"I forgot to introduce myself. I am the current Headmaster of Uagadou. I have come to take you home, child. Back to Uganda."
The panther paced around the Kneazle, its long tail occasionally brushing against Sean's fur.
Sean was curious. How was this Headmaster able to forcibly keep him in the dream? And how could he speak?
He tried to protest, but all that came out was a loud, sharp mew.
"By the Supreme God, the eldest son is finally returning to his glorious homeland—"
The panther began to mutter with unconcealed joy. Sean had no idea what the creature was imagining.
"Babajide Akingbade... I think it's time for you to go."
The Kneazle whirled his head around. Walking toward them through the mist was an old wizard in sweeping, deep-blue robes.
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