A Professor of Magic at Hogwarts-Chapter 651: Dumbledore’s Decision

A wave of dizziness...

Things in the room twisted and warped, and Harry seemed to see Voldemort smiling at him, but that was definitely an illusion. The next thing he saw was the ceiling of the infirmary and the white walls.

"Harry," Ginny exclaimed, rushing over, but Ron held her back.

"Oh, right," Ginny said, "we need to inform Madam Pomfrey—"

Madam Pomfrey appeared and subjected Harry to a series of complex examinations. Though she found no problems in the end, she strongly recommended Harry stay for a while longer. "Your condition is quite unique, be careful of any lingering effects," she warned.

Harry subconsciously touched his forehead, feeling the scar throbbing painfully, more like a scraped skin sensation.

"Lie back on the bed," Madam Pomfrey ordered, hands on her hips, before applying a gooey ointment onto his forehead, despite Harry grimacing.

She firmly told the others, "You have only ten minutes for your visit. The child needs rest."

Once she left, Harry looked around. Ginny held his hand, Hermione held a book (which she had dropped the cover of), smiling at him, and Ron looked at him with a mixture of anxiety and guilt.

Harry suddenly remembered the red-haired freckled boy from six years ago on the train.

"So, you guys patched things up?" he asked, his tone sharp, referring to Ginny and Ron.

"Um," Ron seemed a bit flustered, hoping this question would be postponed. He glanced at Ginny and then pleadingly at Hermione, hoping someone could rescue him, but that hope was in vain.

So he could only stutter, "Uh, I—you know—we and Ginny—we've patched things up—during the two weeks you were sick in the hospital—"

Harry looked at Ginny, who calmly said something quite terrifying to him. "I seriously considered it, but couldn't really bring myself to kill Ron, so..." She shrugged.

Harry thought for a moment in his head, deciding not to respond to Ginny's words. After a pause, he said, "I was lying in the hospital for two weeks?"

He looked at Ron skeptically, then turned to Ginny and Hermione, trying to confirm if this was a joke, but from their expressions, Ron was telling the truth. He had really been unconscious on the hospital bed for two weeks.

"You were scary when you were brought in," Hermione said, still shaken. "The scar on your forehead kept bleeding, like a fresh wound. Ginny was crying while wiping the blood off your face, and Ron just stood there like a giant, unmoving."

Harry looked at Ginny and Ron, feeling a warmth seep into his heart.

"Actually, everyone was really worried about you," Ginny blushed a bit as she said softly, "Dumbledore and Professor Snape stayed in the ward all day, forbidding anyone from entering, not even Madam Pomfrey. We were all terrified, thinking you..." She glanced cautiously at Harry, "Hermione was so nervous she scratched her own face."

Harry gradually pieced together what had happened.

Two weeks ago, Dumbledore and Snape called him to Classroom 7, trying to deal with the fragment of Voldemort's soul in his body. It was the first time Voldemort's consciousness had been awakened in half a year, and the new Riddle personality was completely unmatched. With Snape's help, Riddle successfully absorbed the souls in the cup and locket, and he wanted to absorb the one in his own body, attempting to replace the true Voldemort.

Harry also witnessed Voldemort's madness; he would rather destroy his two horcruxes himself than compromise.

After... Harry's expression faltered. It was too chaotic afterwards, even the fragment of his own soul was stirred. He felt intense pain, as if Voldemort's remnant soul wanted to open a door on his forehead or tear a hole, emitting a chilling scream from his mouth. But Harry wasn't sure if that was his intention or Voldemort's remnant soul playing tricks.

"Professor Snape told us," Ron said, "he and Dumbledore cast a complex spell involving souls, we don't understand... but it was to protect you from Voldemort's soul fragment—"

"Ron!" Harry couldn't help but interrupt.

"It's okay," Ron seemed to guess what he was thinking, "Ginny knows too. Such a big thing happened, it couldn't be hidden. Dumbledore told her himself..."

He glanced at Harry, who looked somewhat confused, and continued, "They said the soul fragment in your body woke up, and what they did was to make it dormant again. It seems to have worked, at least your scar isn't bleeding anymore, it's healing gradually..." He rambled on, as if hoping to get away with it.

Harry felt a bit bewildered.

So, the plan did fail? His status as a horcrux hadn't changed, and worse, the last two horcruxes were destroyed, leaving him as the only one, the last horcrux... His throat suddenly constricted, unable to breathe, a dark thought surged in his mind: if he died now, everything would end.

"Oh, right." Hermione gestured to Ron, pointing at her own finger. Ron suddenly realized, "Dumbledore told us to tell you, don't take off the ring on your hand. I guess there's a particularly powerful protective spell hidden inside."

Harry lowered his head, staring at his left hand, where he wore a rough black gemstone ring he had previously failed to notice.

It's the Resurrection Stone. Harry's eyes widened, Dumbledore had shown it to him before.

A series of thoughts flashed through his mind, finally settling on the most reasonable one: the Resurrection Stone was related to souls, Dumbledore must have thought it could protect him at the moment, so he wore it. But what he desired more was another function of the Resurrection Stone, like the effect of the Mirror of Erised, but much stronger...

His heart pounded.

"Time's up, you guys better get out!" Madam Pomfrey shouted from the door, and Hermione, Ginny, and Ron got up. Ginny kissed Harry's cheek, telling him everything would be okay (Ron turned his head sensitively), then they said goodbye to Harry and headed for the door.

Ron dawdled, staying behind. Harry realized Ginny and Hermione had deliberately coordinated this. When the others disappeared, Ron turned to look at Harry, hesitating.

"I think I owe you an apology, Harry, I know I've been—"

"Forget it," Harry immediately said.

"No, I want to say!" Ron said loudly, but he ended up stuttering when he looked at Harry.

After a while, Ron spoke slowly, "There are some issues with my character, sometimes I get these thoughts... just occasionally, but when I'm feeling really down... I just, I can't control myself, you know that feeling?"

"I understand," Harry lay on the bed, calmly saying, "Sirius once said my temper was stubborn and that I liked making decisions on my own, the kind that can't be pulled back... but that's just who I am, it's hard to change. Even if something did happen, I might not realize it."

He told Ron, "Let me tell you a secret — I've felt the pull of the Resurrection Stone." fɾeeweɓnѳveɭ.com

"You're joking!" Ron exclaimed in surprise.

"It's true, I did feel that way, but at the time I wasn't sure if it was a misjudgment, so I decided to wait until I was absolutely sure before saying anything, and as you know, I ended up spending two weeks in the hospital bed... If I had reported it in time, Professor Snape might have delayed the plan."

Ron fell silent, at a loss for words. He wanted to comfort Harry, but Harry didn't feel particularly regretful about it, he just happened to think of it as an excuse. Harry said softly,

"I only know that when I'm in danger, you'll be the first one to step up."

Ron smiled silently at him, his expression relaxed. "I think the same way too. Um, I mean if I were in danger — like being captured by Voldemort, cough, if the war hadn't ended yet — I wouldn't lose hope because I know that even if everyone else gave up, you definitely wouldn't. I thought about this when I was watching cartoons with Valen. Weird, isn't it?"

The door closed, footsteps gradually fading away, and the ward fell completely silent.

Harry lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling, feeling a sense of satisfaction and calmness after a good meal. The Resurrection Stone ring on his finger didn't seem as enticing anymore, he felt like what he needed most now was a good night's sleep, and he gradually drifted off.

When he woke up, Harry opened his eyes, feeling better than ever before. The daylight outside reminded him that it was dusk, the ward wasn't lit, and the afternoon sun cast shadows over most of his body.

It was quiet all around. Harry lazily raised his left hand, staring at the black gemstone ring for a while, then he pulled out his other hand from under the blanket, mimicking Dumbledore by rubbing the surface of the Resurrection Stone.

"That's not a good idea," a gentle voice suddenly said.

Harry turned his head to the other side, Dumbledore was sitting on a nearby bed, smiling at him. He had most of his body sunk into the bed, his knees close to the edge, leaning back, with his two long arms supporting the bed.

Like he was on a swing.

"I've sealed off some of the functions of the Resurrection Stone," Dumbledore said, straightening up to face Harry, "You're not ready to experience extreme highs and lows, and I have to say, some of the functions of the Resurrection Stone are too dangerous, possibly even the most dangerous of the three Hallows."

Harry was slightly silent, obediently putting his hand down, feeling a bit disappointed — he thought he would get to see his parents today. He didn't ask Dumbledore if he was affected, the answer was obvious. So he asked, "Do I have to wear it all the time?"

"Oh, no need for that, I'll take it back when you're stable," Dumbledore said with a smile, "Would you like one?" He took out two toffees from his pocket.

"Thank you," Harry said softly, taking one and unwrapping the paper, putting the coffee-colored toffee in his mouth, the rich sweetness spreading in his mouth. They didn't speak for a while, Dumbledore humming a tune softly.

"You know, Harry?" he suddenly said after a while, "Poppy notified me the moment you woke up, but I thought you wouldn't be in a very good mood, you know, we didn't achieve the expected results..." he looked at Harry curiously.

"I," Harry hesitated, "Voldemort didn't get away, did he?"

"No," Dumbledore said, "He's been sealed up again." Harry responded softly. "This means—" Dumbledore slightly raised his tone, "It's time to try my method."

"What method?"

"You'll find out," Dumbledore said with a smile, handing Harry another toffee, "Exploding Bonbons?" Harry blurted out. Dumbledore winked at him, "Also the password to the Headmaster's office."

Harry looked at the old man puzzled.

"I plan to teach you separately, yes, Harry, this is part of my method," Dumbledore stood up, "Shall we start on the first Saturday night after you're discharged? I've made quite a few preparations, I hope you'll like it."

He was about to leave, then stopped.

"Forgive me for telling Miss Weasley your secret without your consent, maybe it went against your intentions, but she was crying so hard, continuing to hide it would have been detrimental to the relationship..."

Dumbledore pushed the door open and left.

Harry stared at the Exploding Bonbons in his hand, not sure if this meant a new hope, but regardless, he was indeed interested in Dumbledore's lessons.

After a while, bluebell-colored bubbles floated in the ward.

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