If you want to defeat Voldemort, you first have to deal with his Horcruxes.
At first glance, Horcruxes seem like an incredibly complex and sinister form of magic. But once you understand how they work, they're disturbingly simple.
It's essentially the process of tearing a piece of one's soul from the body and sealing it within an object—even something as insignificant as a keyhole.
Of course, creating a Horcrux isn't easy. It requires the wizard to commit murder, a heinous act that fractures the soul, making the process possible. This alone is enough to deter most wizards from even considering it.
The purpose of making Horcruxes is straightforward: to achieve immortality.
In essence, if one's magical prowess isn't enough to ensure eternal life, dark magic becomes a substitute. Voldemort epitomizes this ideology. Whether it's a lack of confidence or sheer obsession, no one knows.
Given how obsessed wizards are with bloodline limitations in this world, many assume they've reached their magical peak because of their ancestry. This mindset stifles progress, leaving few to explore alternative methods to enhance their magic—except, of course, for potions.
Noah vividly recalled Voldemort's Horcruxes: Tom Riddle's diary, Marvolo Gaunt's ring, Salazar Slytherin's locket, Helga Hufflepuff's cup, Rowena Ravenclaw's diadem, Nagini the snake, and Harry Potter himself.
Truthfully, Noah already knew where most of these were—except for Nagini's current whereabouts. But with his knowledge, he was confident in retrieving them.
Still, he couldn't rush. He needed a plan to attract Dumbledore's attention first.
"The Basilisk will be unleashed this semester anyway, so I should deal with it early and use the diary as proof of my connection with Voldemort last year."
Noah wasn't foolish enough to walk up to Dumbledore and say: Hey, Professor, I know where all of Voldemort's Horcruxes are. Let's destroy them! That would be idiotic.
Even if Dumbledore didn't immediately question how Noah had such knowledge, just knowing about Horcruxes was suspicious enough.
The worst-case scenario? Dumbledore could suspect Noah was possessed by Voldemort, which would be beyond embarrassing.
—
As he walked back to the dormitory, he noticed that Kenn and the others were already awake, waiting for him.
After some casual conversation, Noah took the initiative to turn off the lights. The new semester's first class was tomorrow, and none of them wanted to be late.
That night, Noah trained diligently within the system space before waking up early the next morning.
Glancing at the timetable on the wall, he sighed.
The first class was History of Magic—again.
Noah let out a groan. Their professor, Cuthbert Binns, had the uncanny ability to make even the Goblin Rebellions sound as dull as a Ministry of Magic report.
Noah was convinced Dumbledore only kept him around because he had firsthand experience of those historical events.
"Good morning, Noah. Looking at the schedule again?" a sleepy Evan asked, approaching him.
"Morning, Evan. Ugh, it's History of Magic. I really don't want to go. Binns is unbearably boring."
"Professor Binns' class? Merlin's beard, even Lance is the only one who can sit through it, and I think he's just pretending to enjoy it. We already know this stuff." Kenn, now fully dressed, shared Noah's misery.
"Guys, stop complaining," Lance interjected. "If it's that bad, just sleep through it. Binns knows no one likes his class, so he doesn't care."
—
On their way to class, Noah noticed the Hufflepuff students had already gathered outside the classroom.
It almost seemed intentional, but Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff shared many classes, just as Gryffindor and Slytherin often did.
However, upon closer inspection, Noah realized the pairings were actually fixed—it was just personal perception making it seem otherwise.
Among the waiting students, Ernie Macmillan stood out. He looked as uninterested as Noah felt, probably because of how dull Professor Binns' lectures were.
Aside from the few students genuinely passionate about history, most had the same resigned expressions.
"I really envy Gryffindor and Slytherin," Ernie sighed as he sat down beside Noah and his group. "Their first class is Herbology. At least they don't have to fight off sleep listening to things we already know."
Noah smirked. "Mandrakes."
"Huh?" Kenn looked at him in confusion.
"I mean, their class is probably about repotting Mandrakes. That's not exactly fun. If they forget to wear earmuffs, someone will be dead by morning."
"Come on, Noah, no one's that stupid. …Actually, I take that back," Kenn muttered.
"Exactly. But Mandrakes are useful."
"Besides curing Petrification, what else can they do?"
Mandrakes were commonly used in potions, particularly antidotes. The Petrification Curse wasn't particularly rare—most fully trained wizards knew how to cast it.
However, Mandrakes were dangerous. Their screams could be lethal.
"Alright, enough about that," Noah said, shifting the topic. "Did you guys hear? Harry got into trouble again last night."
"Oh?" Kenn perked up. "What did the 'Boy Who Lived' do this time?"
After a year of knowing Harry Potter, they'd come to expect chaos wherever he went.
"You won't believe this," Ernie whispered conspiratorially. "He and Ron drove a flying car to school. Loads of Muggles saw them! And guess what? They crashed into the Whomping Willow!"
"Whoa! That's insane!"
"This is not cool," Noah sighed.
Kenn raised an eyebrow. "Noah, don't you think it's awesome?"
"Awesome? Are you kidding? That car belongs to Arthur Weasley, meaning Ron's dad is probably being investigated by the Ministry of Magic right now. And I bet Ron's about to receive a 'gift' soon."
"A gift?"
"A Howler."
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