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Chapter 677 The Bold Man!!
After enjoying Harry's guilty expression for a while,
Dumbledore finally calmed down.
"Well then, let us assume that both of you have recognized your mistakes. Good. Now we can begin today's lesson.
Before we look at Slughorn's memory, I must first show you two other memories."
Dumbledore took out a crystal bottle and poured the memory into the Pensieve.
"Before you see this, I must give you some background.
Voldemort left school with excellent grades in all subjects.
Before graduating, he applied to remain at Hogwarts, but Headmaster Dippet asked him to return in two years… largely because I did everything I could to prevent it.
I believed he wished to continue spreading his ideas inside the school.
Headmaster Dippet liked him very much, but following my suggestion, he delayed the decision.
After that, Voldemort went to work at Borgin and Burkes…
And this memory was provided by the house-elf of one of their customers."
Harry and Darren stepped into the memory.
It was a very old house-elf.
She was helping a very fat elderly lady dress.
"Beautiful!"
Hepzibah said loudly.
Darren silently sighed at the work ethic of house-elves.
At that moment, the doorbell rang.
The old lady and Hepzibah both jumped.
"He's here!"
The old lady cried in delight.
Outside the door, a young and handsome clerk walked in.
It was Voldemort.
He looked even more handsome than before.
He took out a bouquet of flowers.
"Beautiful lady, for you."
Tom handed over the flowers.
The old lady accepted them happily.
"What did they ask you to do this time?"
"I was asked to inquire about an item you possess."
Voldemort spoke in a businesslike tone, without flattery.
Strangely, this seemed to make the old lady even happier.
She began speaking ill of Borgin and Burkes at length.
Then suddenly, she decided to show Voldemort her treasures.
"I dare say these two treasures will leave you speechless!"
She brought out a cup.
It was exquisitely crafted, with two delicate handles.
"Can you recognize this?"
A red light flashed in Voldemort's eyes.
"Helga Hufflepuff…"
"Exactly! Her golden cup!"
The old lady asked Hepzibah to fetch another item.
Harry recognized it immediately.
Slytherin's locket.
Voldemort recognized it as well.
He reached for it almost without permission.
"Enough, young man. That is quite enough."
The old lady seemed to sense something was wrong and withdrew the locket.
The memory ended there.
Dumbledore looked at them.
"Two days later, Hepzibah was accused of killing her mistress.
She confessed, saying she had accidentally spilled something into her master's cocoa, not knowing it was poison.
I obtained this memory before she died.
After Hepzibah 'killed' her owner, the clerk from Borgin and Burkes disappeared.
He vanished without trace. No one knew where he went or what he did.
Perhaps only he himself knew."
Dumbledore paused.
"Before we examine Slughorn's memory, I must show you one last memory—my own."
He drew a silver thread from his temple and placed it into the Pensieve.
They entered once more.
A younger Dumbledore was seated behind his desk, clearly waiting for someone.
Soon, Voldemort entered.
He no longer looked handsome.
He was not yet the snake-like figure Harry had seen before, but the transformation had begun.
His face looked as though it had been burned; his features were blurred and strangely twisted.
If someone claimed this was Tom Riddle, few would believe it.
"Good evening, Tom."
"I heard you became Headmaster. A respectable choice."
Voldemort replied coldly.
Dumbledore smiled.
"A glass of wine?"
"Thank you."
Dumbledore poured them both a drink.
"So, Tom, what wind brings you here—"
"I am no longer called Tom. They call me—"
"Of course I know what they call you.
For instance, the people waiting for you in the Hog's Head to celebrate your appointment as a Hogwarts professor."
"Nothing escapes you.
I wish to apply for the post of Defence Against the Dark Arts. I intend to teach my philosophy to students."
Voldemort spoke passionately.
Dumbledore laughed softly.
"If half the rumors about your deeds are true, Hogwarts cannot accept you."
"Greatness breeds jealousy.
Jealousy breeds resentment, and resentment breeds lies, does it not?
I have traveled far and pushed Dark Magic to unprecedented heights—"
"No, no. Some magic, yes.
But in many areas, you remain terribly naïve."
"Dumbledore, I know you will speak of love again.
What is love? I do not understand it, nor do I need to.
Can love make one immortal?
Can love make one powerful?
No. Only Dark Magic can."
Dumbledore sneered and set down his glass.
"With all due respect, Tom, you came here for a position you do not truly want.
What is it you really seek?"
"No, I am very—"
"Do not lie to me. I am not a fool."
"If that is your conclusion…"
"Yes. My conclusion is that the Tom who stands before me cannot be trusted as a teacher.
The moment you learned to frighten others with a burning wardrobe, that possibility ended."
"Then there is nothing more to say."
Voldemort looked at Dumbledore deeply,
then turned and left.
Dumbledore brought them out of the Pensieve.
Harry could not help asking,
"Did he really want to teach Defence Against the Dark Arts?"
"Oh, I believe he did…
After all, for so many years since then, no professor has been able to keep that post for more than one year."
"Then why did he come back?"
Harry asked urgently.
Dumbledore took out Slughorn's memory.
"That question will be answered once we see Horace's memory.
I hope you will tell me what you think afterward.
I have already watched it, and I must say—I have found the final piece of the puzzle.
Darren's drunken effort was not in vain.
Horace truly is… a bold man."
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