No one expected Dumbledore to drop such a bombshell.
Voldemort wasn't dead?
Hadn't he been killed more than ten years ago by Harry when he was just a baby? Why would he say he wasn't dead?
And if he were alive, why hadn't the Ministry of Magic announced it?
Panic and confusion washed over the students' faces. They wanted to know exactly what was happening and why Dumbledore would make such a claim.
"I know you are all surprised, but the reality is just that," Dumbledore sighed, continuing, "It must be said that Voldemort is a cunning man. He is highly skilled in various forms of Dark Arts. During his time at Hogwarts, he learned how to create Horcruxes."
"I am aware that many of you do not know what a Horcrux is, but I must tell you: a Horcrux is an extremely evil Dark Magic object. It is called a Horcrux because it hides a fragment of the creator's soul within it. The process of creating one involves a heinous act—such as murder—to split the wizard's soul. A portion of that soul is then removed from the body and placed into an external object. That object becomes the Horcrux."
"In this way, even if the wizard's physical body is attacked or destroyed, they cannot die, because a part of their soul remains intact and undamaged in this world."
As Dumbledore finished speaking, the Great Hall erupted like a boiling cauldron. Every student was desperate to know the truth of what had transpired.
After a moment, Dumbledore raised his hand, silencing the frantic whispering.
"In the year Voldemort turned sixteen, he created his first Horcrux: his diary." Dumbledore's eyes swept piercingly across the Slytherin table, and many who had come into contact with the diary lowered their heads. "One must admit, he was indeed a gifted wizard. It is a tragedy that he chose the wrong path."
"This diary was created after he opened the Chamber of Secrets and murdered an innocent student. That victim is someone I am sure you all know. Her name was Elizabeth Warren—the one you often call 'Moaning Myrtle.'"
At some point, Moaning Myrtle had drifted to Dumbledore's side. Hearing his introduction, she puffed out her chest with an air of self-importance, appearing strangely proud of the distinction.
The students held their breath. They knew Myrtle had been a Hogwarts student—or rather, a former student—but they had never imagined she had been through so much.
"With the support of a Horcrux, even if Voldemort suffered a fatal blow, he would not truly die. Instead, he would hide in some dark corner, lingering on and waiting for the right moment to strike again," Dumbledore said, his eyes flashing. "In 1991, he clearly found such an opportunity. He seduced Professor Quirinus Quirrell, attaching himself to the back of the professor's head to infiltrate Hogwarts and steal something. Of course... as you all know, Harry Potter stopped Quirinus Quirrell. Or rather, he once again stopped Voldemort from endangering the wizarding world."
As Dumbledore paused, a wave of applause broke out in the Great Hall.
No one had known exactly what happened during their first year; they only knew Harry had stopped Quirrell, not that he had faced Voldemort. Looking at it now, Harry's Special Award for Services to the School in his first year was more than well-deserved!
"Way to go, Harry!" students shouted from across the tables.
"In the second year," Dumbledore spoke again, "Voldemort used the diary to control a poor student and release the Basilisk that lurked within the Chamber of Secrets. I believe you are all aware of the Basilisk's nature: anyone who meets its gaze dies instantly. Our poor Myrtle died from looking into its eyes."
"Yes," Myrtle piped up. "Oh, it was dreadful! It happened right there, in the bathroom where I usually stay. I remember it so clearly. Olive Hornby was teasing me about my glasses, calling me 'four-eyes,' so I hid in there. I locked the door and was crying when I suddenly heard someone come in. They were speaking a funny language."
"I suppose it must have been another tongue. But what annoyed me most was hearing a boy's voice. So, I opened the door and told him to go away to his own bathroom, and then—"
Myrtle puffed her chest out again, her face glowing with a bizarre sense of accomplishment. "I died."
The students were spellbound, no one daring to make a sound, as if they could almost hear the boy speaking that "funny language" right beside them.
Happy with the reaction she'd caused, Myrtle floated in a few joyful loops before speaking again. "I only remember seeing a pair of terrifyingly large yellow eyes, and then—it felt like my whole body was being snatched up, and I just floated away... It was a truly strange feeling. I certainly hope none of you ever have to experience it."
A heavy silence fell over the students. None of them wanted to imagine the consequence of becoming a ghost. Would their families be heartbroken? Would they live in sorrow? They were in the prime of their youth; the thought of sudden death chilled them to the bone.
"And what I want to say is—" Dumbledore looked around the room, speaking into the somber atmosphere, "Harry once again thwarted this conspiracy. He successfully crushed Voldemort's evil plan, destroying both the Horcrux and the Basilisk."
He didn't mention that Harry had actually taken the Basilisk; after all, there wasn't much difference between eliminating it and relocating it.
The students breathed a collective sigh of relief, followed by another round of thunderous applause. Harry Potter was simply incredible!
"In the third year," Dumbledore continued, "we all know that Sirius Black was framed by Peter Pettigrew and was wrongfully imprisoned in Azkaban... It was Harry who successfully captured Peter Pettigrew and saved an innocent soul. I believe no one doubts his merit for a Special Award for Services to the School for a third year running. Just think—if Voldemort's loyal servant, Peter Pettigrew, had truly carried out sabotage within the school, working in tandem with Voldemort, the consequences would have been catastrophic!"
This reasoning was sound, and the hall cheered for Harry once more. To crush Voldemort's plots three years in a row and protect Hogwarts—Harry, you're our hero! We shall call you the Voldemort Bane!
"And this year," Dumbledore sighed, "Voldemort did not have only one Horcrux. He has returned yet again. His servant, Barty Crouch Jr., attacked Alastor Moody and took his appearance to teach at Hogwarts, intending to sabotage the Triwizard Tournament..."
At this, Dumbledore looked up, his gaze intense. "It was the ever-valiant Harry Potter who once again shattered Voldemort's plot, saving our school from his wicked designs. This is why I have awarded him the Special Award for Services to the School again this year, and not simply because he won the Triwizard Cup!"
"I know the Ministry of Magic will not acknowledge this, for it is complicated and involves many conflicting interests. However, I must remind you all: Voldemort is not dead. His shadow looms over us. If we do not remain vigilant, I do not know when he will return, but I know he will strike those who are unprepared."
Whispers broke out again, until Dumbledore spoke once more.
"Let us propose a toast," he said. "To our champion, our victor, and the student who has won more Special Awards for Services to the School than any in a century: Harry Potter!"
Dumbledore turned solemnly to Harry and raised his goblet. Nearly everyone in the Great Hall followed suit.
After everyone sat back down, Dumbledore added, "The purpose of the Triwizard Tournament was to strengthen and promote mutual understanding in the wizarding world. Given what has happened—given Voldemort's return—this bond is more important than ever."
Dumbledore looked toward Madame Maxime and Hagrid, then at Fleur Delacour and her fellow Beauxbatons students, and finally at Viktor Krum and the Durmstrang delegation at the Slytherin table.
"Every guest in this hall," Dumbledore said, his eyes lingering on the Durmstrang students, "is welcome back at any time. I say to you all again—in light of Voldemort's return, we are only as strong as we are united, as weak as we are divided. Voldemort's gift for spreading discord and enmity is very great. We can fight it only by showing an equally unbreakable bond of friendship and trust. If our goals are identical and our hearts are open, differences of habit and language are no barriers at all."
"I believe—and I truly hope I am wrong—that we are all facing dark and difficult times. Some of you in this hall have already suffered directly from Voldemort's malice; many of your families have been torn apart..."
"But remember," Dumbledore said loudly, "even in the darkest of days, we must hold onto hope!"
Dumbledore's speech didn't last much longer. After the feast ended, the students left feeling deeply troubled. They believed Dumbledore; as the Headmaster of Hogwarts and the greatest Light Wizard of the century, he wouldn't lie to them.
But... was Voldemort really back? Why hadn't the Ministry released any information?
Filled with questions, the students waited in the crowded Entrance Hall for the carriages to take them to Hogsmeade Station.
It was another beautiful, pleasant summer day. Harry was already wondering if he should take Cassandra, who had just graduated, and Poppy Sweating to the seaside for a holiday.
"Harry!"
He turned around.
Fleur Delacour was hurrying up the stone steps into the castle. Behind her, across the grounds, Harry could see Hagrid reluctantly helping Madame Maxime hitch the two giant horses to the carriage. The Beauxbatons carriage was about to depart.
"I hope we meet again," Fleur said as she reached Harry. She extended a hand, though her eyes were fixed on Ron. "I hope to find a job here to improve my English."
"Your English is already great," Ron said with a goofy grin.
Fleur smiled at him, while Hermione, standing nearby, furrowed her brow.
"Goodbye, Harry, and Ron," Fleur said, turning to leave. "It was a pleasure meeting you."
"I think she's definitely interested in Bill," Harry said, seemingly to Ron, but directed at Hermione.
Sure enough, upon hearing Harry's words, Hermione's brow smoothed out.
"Does she like Bill?" Hermione asked, leaning in.
"Didn't you notice?" Harry looked at Hermione with surprise. "I thought you knew ages ago."
"Oh, I wasn't paying attention to them," Hermione said, waving it off. "Actually, I've been buried in my books..."
It was true; Hermione hadn't noticed the little interactions between Bill and Fleur, as she had been happily immersed in the ocean of literature.
"What are you guys planning to do for the holidays?" Ron asked again. "I remember Harry saying he wanted to gather the Dueling Club for special training? But before that, aren't we going to have some fun?"
Harry thought to himself that even if he went out to play, it certainly wouldn't be with Ron. He had to take Cassandra and Poppy Sweating.
Veratia was very busy right now and had no time for holidays, so he would take the two graduates.
"What are you talking about?"
Harry suddenly felt a soft presence behind him. He didn't even have to look to know it was Poppy Sweating. If it had been Cassandra, his back would likely be stinging by now.
"Talking about summer plans," Harry said without turning around. "I'm planning to have the Dueling Club students meet at Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place for special training, but I think that can wait at least two weeks... Before that, we need to relax. Right, Poppy?"
"Hehe," Poppy giggled, leaning her cheek against Harry's back. "Of course we have to relax."
"I think we should go to the seaside. What do you think?" Harry said with a smile. "To beat the heat, you have to go to the beach... We'll bring Cassandra along, just the three of us. What do you say, Poppy?"
"What about Veratia? Isn't she coming?" Poppy asked curiously.
"Do you think she has the time?" Harry said helplessly. "She's very busy right now. I think it's better if we don't disturb her."
"No," Poppy said seriously. "I think you definitely have to ask her. Whether Veratia goes or not is her business, but whether you ask her or not is yours..."
--
Support me & read more advance & fast update chapter on my pa-treon:
pat reon .c-om/windkaze
(Just remove the hyphen - and space, to access Pa-treon normally.)