Chapter 280: Horcrux (3k)

“Professor, this isn’t worth it.”

En stood beside Quil, and the wizard who had just moments ago worn a ferocious expression now looked only respectful.

The crowd was eager to find out what had happened, but none dared approach too closely.

Only Lucius Malfoy rose pale-faced from the ground, pretending nonchalance as he slipped a diary into the midst of Ginny’s newly shiny, brand-new Lockhart books.

The farce ended quickly; the Weasleys had never seen Lucius leave so humiliated, not even daring to utter a threat.

Harry, Hermione, and Ginny’s eyes sparkled; after Professor Quil left, Hermione eagerly and carefully asked:

“Professor Quil is now the agent for shop number seventy-seven in Diagon Alley, En—how could you possibly be so close to him! Oh! Of course!”

“It’s more than just close!”

Ron let out a startled cry, then quickly clapped his hand over his mouth.

“You knew?”

Hermione spun around, eyebrow raised.

At this hour, young wizards were free to roam, as both the Weasleys and the Grangers had gone to the Leaky Cauldron for drinks.

En had originally been flanked on either side by Hermione and Jia Jia Siting, but now Harry had quietly poked his head out—and beside him, so had Ginny.

They exchanged a glance, both silently waiting for something.

“I—I don’t know, how would I know...”

Ron wanted to slap himself for having blurted it out again.

“En, don’t tell me you’re the one...”

Hermione lowered her voice; she had suspected for a while, but never dared confirm it.

“Mm.”

En nodded; for the young wizards of Hope Cottage, he had nothing to hide.

“You’ve kept this from us this long!”

Hermione’s anger and shock came together.

“Could it be you never asked, and I did?”

Ron muttered from the side.

“Ron, not everyone is as careless as you are about asking such important questions!”

Hermione’s face flushed red.

“Maybe you’re right—keeping secrets is too hard. Next time I won’t ask.”

Ron paused for a few seconds, then his face fell, looking pitiful.

Hermione found Ron’s unexpected admission both irritating and amusing.

Harry and Ginny were frozen; they only now realized something monumental had just been revealed.

“So...”

Harry murmured.

Ginny had been puzzled yet vaguely awed—but then she seemed to remember something, pulling a copy of The Daily Prophet from her small bag.

After careful comparison, she confirmed the wizard’s identity—he was none other than the owner of the mysterious shop number seventy-seven, the Fairy Workshop.

“You’re Mr. Hermes, the one who returned with glory!”

Ginny couldn’t help but gasp.

“Oh, surprising? Not a vampire or a werewolf or something?”

Ron said it instinctively, then realized—

How did Ginny end up here with them?

Only then did the Hope Cottage wizards notice the little witch who had slipped among them—her unmistakable Weasley red hair stood out, and now, having been caught, she blushed furiously.

Even Ron, slow as he was, sensed the tension; they were comrades bound by danger and hardship, but Ginny wasn’t one of them.

He subtly stepped in front of Ginny, hearing a voice float out as if carried on air.

“It’s fine.”

En said.

“Oh—”

Jia Jia Siting looked at Ginny, thoughtful.

“You decide who should know.”

Hermione lifted her chin.

“S-sorry.”

Ginny realized—she probably shouldn’t have been here.

“It’s fine.”

En said gently.

He saw the notebook in her bag.

The plot’s progression hadn’t changed at all—Tom’s notebook had already reached Ginny’s hands; the story of the Chamber was about to begin...

He needed to act quickly. Though the original text didn’t specify whether Ginny suffered lasting effects after opening her soul to Tom Riddle—En leaned toward no—such an evil, unpredictable object as a Horcrux was better dealt with as soon as possible.

As for the method, he could obtain the materials needed to destroy the Horcrux while baking cookies.

Ginny, unexpectedly trusted, pressed her lips tightly and stood at the very edge of the group of young wizards—this softened Hermione’s expression slightly.

“You saw Ginny long ago, didn’t you, En?”

Hermione walked over to Ginny and winked at En.

“Mm.”

En replied.

“See—En never makes mistakes. But don’t tell anyone, okay?”

After Hermione spoke, Ginny nodded quickly. Her act had shifted from eavesdropping to being tacitly permitted to know.

But... she stole two cautious glances at En, wondering why Mr. Green trusted her so completely.

The long cobblestone street of Diagon Alley was lined with the most enchanting wizarding shops; young wizards weaved through the crowds, purchasing everything they needed.

All around them passed all manner of customers: a tiny, odd-looking witch from the countryside, just out shopping;

a frail-looking wizard engaged in heated debate over the latest article in Today’s Transfiguration; a disheveled wizard; a noisy group of gnomes...

Even Hermione and Jia Jia Siting, though they’d visited many times, remained captivated by the street’s wonder.

So they bought six large strawberry-peanut-butter ice creams and strolled leisurely through the alley, browsing the dazzling shop windows.

At dusk, a plump figure rolled out of the fireplace in Diagon Alley.

“Neville! Why are you only here now?”

Hermione said.

“After I ranked seventh, Grandpa Argus sent me a biting top hat as encouragement...”

Neville rubbed his thinning hair and swollen nose, tears streaming down his face,

“Aunt Ennie dug up ‘Nose-Biting Beans’ from the attic, and Uncle Hafang gave me a knee-bashing umbrella...”

After hearing him, everyone agreed he’d made it to Diagon Alley at all was remarkable.

“Fred and George sometimes leave spiders in my room.”

Ron patted his shoulder, deeply sympathetic.

Neville wept silently, but soon froze in terror at the sight of a black-robed wizard.

“Come—”

Snape’s icy gaze swept over the young wizards, finally settling on En.

“See you at Hogwarts.”

En murmured his farewell and followed Professor Snape.

“Don’t you think Professor Snape seems less terrifying now?”

Hermione said, surprised.

“Does he?”

Ron scratched his head, skeptical.

The night at Hogwarts was silent.

En held a slab-like object, upon which fine wisps of mist had already begun to form—no different from what he’d seen in his dreams.

The Empty Symbol itself held little danger, but if its danger lay not in the symbol itself, then it must lie in its use.

En reread The Simple Introduction to the Empty Symbol; when the moonlight reached a certain intensity, the mist curled around him.

This was his first use of the Empty Symbol—a soul artifact existing only in Wugado.

A long time passed—perhaps no time at all—

En had only a hazy awareness; he knew he existed, that he was more than mere detached thought, because he lay—definitely lay—on the surface of something. Thus he had sensation, and the thing beneath him was real.

He was now, perhaps, in soul form...

He looked at his arm—it was clearly not an arm, but a black-and-white-pawed cat’s paw.

He lay in bright, thin mist, but it was unlike any mist he’d seen in reality; it was not that surrounding objects were veiled in vapor, but that the vapor had not yet formed any surrounding objects.

The ground beneath him seemed white—not hot, not cold—just an existence, a flat, empty thing.

Only minutes passed before he heard the panel chime:

【You practiced Soul Transfiguration at the standard of a skilled master in the Master Domain; Master-level proficiency +10】

This was his first time reaching skilled status, simply because he had stayed here for a while.

The black cat’s emerald eyes saw white mist swirling, within which appeared bizarre and surreal scenes; it leapt away swiftly.

It traveled through the empty world, and as it walked, mist began to emerge beside it—mist drifting from its own body.

This time, the black cat saw clearly: some of the mist resembled cats fused with cheetahs, others grew wings…

As it focused intently on observing, it realized its consciousness was growing hazy, as if a return were imminent.

At that moment, a massive black paw rested upon it; the black cat lifted its head unsteadily and saw a mighty black panther.

The panther spoke in human voice:

“At last, I see you, dear child. Look—how gifted you are in Alchemy and Transfiguration… The Supreme God Kattanda does not concern Himself with mortal trifles, which is why you ended up in the wrong place.

Return to Uganda, my dear child. Wagadu has waited for you far too long.”

En could not speak; he stared at the panther, perplexed.

“Forgive me for not introducing myself—I am the current headmaster of Wagadu. I’ve come to take you home, child.”

The panther circled the black cat, its large tail occasionally brushing the edges of its fur.

The black cat wondered how this headmaster had managed to forcibly retain it, and how it could speak human language.

As it grew slightly anxious, a loud cat cry rang out.

“By the Supreme God, your eldest son is finally returning to his glorious homeland—”

The panther murmured joyfully to itself; the black cat had no idea what it was imagining.

“Babajide Akinkade, you may leave now—”

At these words, the black cat swiftly turned its head and saw an old wizard approaching, clad in a flowing deep-blue robe.

The third watch is half done; another half-watch remains at dawn.