Chapter 376

Wizards defeated too many enemies, and so magic became something inevitably lost.

Ignorance, young wizard, is not the obstacle to the advancement of magical civilization—arrogance is.

said Mr. Owl.

“So, you won’t use the Confundus Charm on me, then?”

asked Wizard Sean.

“Foolish young wizard.”

Mr. Owl flapped his wings, and the entire portrait vanished with him.

In the massive tapestry depicting Bartholomew the Barmy trying to teach a troll to ballet, both the troll and Bartholomew watched silently.

Only after the silence settled did the troll begin to beat Bartholomew senseless.

Wizard Sean glanced at the portrait; a very smooth door had already appeared on the wall beside it.

Wizard Sean stared at it, then gripped the brass handle and pulled open the door, stepping into a spacious room lit by torches, just like the underground classrooms.

Along the walls stood rows of wooden bookshelves; there were no chairs on the floor, only large satin cushions placed on the ground.

At the far end of the room, countless wooden shelves held mirrors of revelation, detectors, and various other instruments.

Most prominent of all was the table, upon which sat several steaming bowls.

Wizard Sean peered curiously inside—they were empty.

He immediately understood: the Room of Requirement operated through simple Summoning Charms and Transfiguration, and thus adhered to Gamp’s Law of Elemental Transfiguration.

That is: Transfiguration cannot conjure food out of nothing.

If you know where food is, you may summon it;

if you already have some, you may transfigure it or multiply it.

That was why his pumpkin juice had not appeared.

After taking in everything the Room of Requirement had to offer, Wizard Sean raised his wand and stepped into the wooden bookcase on the left.

Sunlight streamed through the high windows, illuminating the bookcase like a city surrounded by towering walls—Wizard Sean saw it was built from items hidden over generations by Hogwarts people.

Along the narrow alleys stood wobbling piles of broken furniture, perhaps discarded from other rooms, which the Room of Requirement consciously gathered and stored;

or perhaps hidden by house-elves who sought to preserve the castle’s dignity.

Perhaps, as Mr. Owl had said, this place truly was Hogwarts’s dumping ground for clutter.

Deeper alleys held tens of thousands of books—undoubtedly banned, vandalized, or stolen texts;

winged slingshots and wolf-tooth flying discs, a few of which still weakly circled above the mountains of forbidden items;

broken bottles filled with congealed potions; hats, jewelry, cloaks, things resembling dragon eggshells;

several stoppered bottles still glowed with malevolent light; a few rusted swords and one bloodstained great axe.

Amidst this clutter, Wizard Sean immediately noticed a dull, rusted crown.

—Ravenclaw’s Diadem.

He stepped back silently; from his book of wizards, the basilisk’s fang floated out and hovered beside him.

Yet he did not destroy the diadem immediately, but slowly turned his gaze toward the door.

A figure appeared as if shedding an Invisibility Cloak.

“Welcome back, Wizard Sean.”

Jia Jia Siting smiled.

“Again, the smell?”

Wizard Sean paused, sighed.

…

“So, what is it I’m allowed to know?”

When Jia Jia Siting’s gaze shifted to the diadem, his smile faded.

He had many things to say, but here, countless matters could yield to one.

“Hmm, have you been to the Restricted Section?”

Wizard Sean said slowly.

“The book called ‘The Most Toxic Magic’?”

Jia Jia Siting asked.

“There exists a most dark creation, forged only through the vilest acts.

Voldemort—that name means—fleeing death.”

Wizard Sean explained softly.

“So when I saw it fly away, that’s why Headmaster Dumbledore couldn’t kill Voldemort?!”

Jia Jia Siting felt he had grasped something.

“What method did he use? Wizard Sean, you know—”

He suddenly fell silent, opened his mouth, then closed it again.

The Room of Requirement should not have had cold winds, yet he felt a chill in his bones.

He suddenly understood why those green eyes had always been expressionless, calm as still water.

He knew such eyes always carried a hint of desolation and resolve.

And now, everything seemed explainable…

“No matter if he returns or not, we will win…”

Jia Jia Siting forced a smile.

He recalled the moment he faced Voldemort, remembered how he and Wizard Sean had stood side by side, planning how to fight a battle they were destined to lose.

What would Wizard Sean say?

No, he never spoke—he answered only with action—

What mattered was constant struggle, struggle, and more struggle; only then could evil be contained, though never fully eradicated…

Jia Jia Siting felt his heart had been blocked; he suddenly realized the entire magical world hung by a thread.

Because Voldemort possessed dark magic beyond anyone’s imagination.

He had not died—he would return.

And Hogwarts had never been safe merely because of Dumbledore.

Because one man had always stood between Voldemort and terror.

Even in their darkest hours, they all imagined Dumbledore would protect them from all harm.

But someone had long since abandoned such illusions.

“Only by relying on yourself is victory possible.”

Jia Jia Siting murmured suddenly.

He felt as if he had fallen into a nightmare.

And now, no one could wake him—he would no longer dream.

A twelve-year-old wizard, at this moment, abandoned every hope of luck.

He clearly knew he must stand forever beside Wizard Sean.

Because now, more than ever, he sensed how lonely the young wizard truly was.

“Horcrux.”

Jia Jia Siting finally spoke the term—the concept he had seen in ‘The Most Toxic Magic’—

【As for even more terrifying directions—regarding the Horcrux, the most evil magical invention—we must not speak of it, nor offer guidance.】

Now, Jia Jia Siting understood: this magic allowed evil to flee death, in a cruelty they could not imagine.

“So, this is a Horcrux? How do I destroy it? The basilisk’s fang?”

Jia Jia Siting spoke, his eyes blazing with determination, more fierce than ever before.

“No, stay back.”

Wizard Sean said.

Jia Jia Siting felt disappointed and instinctively stepped away.

Wizard Sean also retreated far—he did not want any unforeseen variables.

Since Tom Riddle’s diary could erode souls and control wizards’ minds, extreme caution was warranted with any other Horcrux.

As his wand lifted, the walls of the Room of Requirement shifted dramatically.

A stone statue nearly three meters tall stepped out of the wall, seized the basilisk fang in an instant, and marched toward the bookcase like a warrior.