Harry Potter: The Golden Viper

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As a master in Occlumency and a wizard who had experienced countless storms throughout his long life, Dumbledore has always presented a carefree "wise man's demeanor" in front of others, including Bryan, rarely showing such intense emotional fluctuations as he did just now.

Bryan immediately realized that there must be some story between Dumbledore and this stone.

For his part, Dumbledore, having managed to wrestle his inner turmoil back under control, was now looking at Bryan with an equally penetrating gaze.

The pieces of the puzzle quickly fell into place as he considered the possible paths of investigation that could have led Bryan to uncover the existence of the Resurrection Stone. After a moment's contemplation, the truth became clearly apparent— Dumbledore realized that Bryan's investigations must have been centered around the Deathly Hallows.

Looking at Bryan, who was trying to see through his heart, the aged Dumbledore's lips moved slightly, but rarely, he didn't know what to say.

Give him some warning, hoping he would turn back from that unwise path?

Dumbledore understood all too well the seductive allure of the Hallows, the tempting promise of unrivaled power and mastery over death. He had seen firsthand the destruction wrought by those who succumbed to it, the once-bright futures snuffed out in the relentless pursuit of an impossible dream.

And yet, as he gazed at the determined face of Bryan and the unwavering resolve that burned in his eyes, Dumbledore found himself hesitating.

Bryan's purpose in pursuing the Deathly Hallows did not require much guessing. He had probably already realized that he was about to touch that peak, and he must have known that beyond that peak, there were no higher mountains, but a bottomless cliff with no way to go. So, he hoped to use the power of the Hallows to elevate himself to the heights of those legendary wizards?

Dumbledore knew very well that Bryan Watson was a wizard obsessed with power, but unlike most ambitious wizards in history, Bryan was not intoxicated by the "hegemony" brought by power. He was only focused on power itself, in the desire to probe the limits of what was possible and hoping to witness the limits of magic.

And there was something else, too—a capacity for love and empathy that set Bryan apart from those powerful ambitious wizards who had come before him. He possessed a rare and precious gift, the ability to see the inherent worth and dignity in all living beings, regardless of their position or abilities.

He did not despise others because he had outstanding magical talent and power far beyond that of ordinary wizards. To be honest, neither he nor Gellert had such a vision and mature mentality at Bryan's age.

As he wrestled with the conflicting emotions that churned within him, a single word rose automatically to the forefront of Dumbledore's mind:

Trust—

He stared into Bryan's eyes, and the real pupils hidden by a little trick were still clear. Bryan calmly reciprocated his probing gaze, and there was no more ambition growing in those eyes.

"You are correct in your assumption," The tense atmosphere around Dumbledore dissipated, and a smile climbed back onto his old face. He said lightly, "Salazar Slytherin did indeed made the stone into a ring."

At this revelation, Bryan's eyebrows shot up in surprise, but Dumbledore simply drew out his wand with a fluid motion. Just as Bryan had done before, he traced a series of patterns in the air before him, and wisps of shimmering smoke came from the tip of his wand. Gradually, the ethereal smoke began to merge into a recognizable shape, solidifying into the image of a young hand with a heavy gold ring.

And there, set into the center of the gleaming ring, was the unmistakable black gemstone that Bryan had seen in Helga Hufflepuff's memories—the Resurrection Stone.

"This is..." Bryan's voice was deep, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration as he studied the image that hovered between them. "Voldemort's hand. Did he wear this ring openly during his time as a student at Hogwarts?"

"No—"

Dumbledore shook his head gently,

"Tom is not a wise man, but you must admit that he was a child who was considered extremely clever in the eyes of most people. He would not show this ring in front of me, Bryan, because he could not explain to me how a child who grew up in an orphanage got a ring worth a fortune."

Before Bryan could voice the questions that undoubtedly burned on the tip of his tongue, Dumbledore continued, his tone taking on a thoughtful note as he delved into the depths of memory.

"It was many years ago, during the course of my investigations into Tom's past, that I stumbled upon the truth of the ring's origins. Through a series of complicated events, Tom had acquired it from his uncle. It's a very complicated story, Bryan, and now is not a good time to share it. We both have things to do!"

Bryan nodded in understanding. Though Dumbledore had given a plausible explanation for his knowledge of the ring, it was clear that there were still secrets he was not yet prepared to reveal. But just as Dumbledore did not pursue the matter of what he was investigating and how he knew about this stone, he also did not want to force Dumbledore to say what he was unwilling to say. This was the tacit understanding between the two.

"I take it, then, that you have encountered some difficulties of your own?" Bryan asked.

"It's also related to Tom's Horcruxes—"

Dumbledore looked troubled. In front of Bryan, he did not need to appear so omnipotent. He paused for a moment, as if gathering his thoughts, before continuing in a voice filled with worry.

"It's like this, Bryan. You must remember that we destroyed the Slytherin's locket that you brought out from Sirius's Manor together. That was the third Horcrux of Tom's that we destroyed. We also know that Hufflepuff's cup was made into a Horcrux, and it can be basically confirmed that the ring will be made into a Horcrux by Tom. To be honest, this is beyond my expectations. When I realized that Tom had made more than one Horcrux, I mentally prepared myself to spend a lot of energy on this matter. Have you noticed, Bryan, that this is already the fifth one!"

"So, you fear that we may have underestimated the extent of Voldemort's depravity," Bryan said, understanding his concerns. "We have discussed this possibility before, Headmaster. Based on our calculations, it is unlikely that he would have dared to create more than ten. And, if your assessment of your own soul's strength is correct, even that may be beyond the limits of what his soul could endure."

"And yet, we must proceed with the utmost caution," Dumbledore replied, his tone heavy with the weight of responsibility. "In this matter, there can be no room for error or uncertainty. We must have absolute control over the variables at play, Bryan."

This was undoubtedly a very difficult thing. Voldemort would not go around telling others how many "life-saving amulets" he was going to make for himself in total.

"Have you any thoughts on how we might proceed?" Bryan asked, his gaze flickering briefly to the letter that lay upon Dumbledore's desk. In this, as in so many other matters, the headmaster's experience and wisdom would be helpful.

Dumbledore considered the question for a long moment, his fingers steepled before him in contemplation. "Our best hope lies in delving deeper into Tom's past, in seeking out those who knew him best during his school days."

He paused, a look of determination settling over his face. "There is one man in particular who may hold the key to unlocking this mystery—an old friend and colleague of mine by the name of Horace Slughorn. He served as Head of Slytherin House in the years before Severus, and was one of the few professors to truly capture Tom's interest and admiration during his time at Hogwarts. I believe he holds some vital information that could help us."

Dumbledore's expression grew troubled. "Since the destruction of the locket, I have made several attempts to contact Horace, to persuade him to share what he knows. But he was reluctant to speak to me about Tom.

To be honest, this is not strange. Most people who knew Tom in his youth are unwilling to talk about him anymore. They prefer to bury the past, to pretend that the monster we now face had no connection to the brilliant young man they once admired."

Dumbledore shook his head and continued. " But I think it's time to have a face-to-face talk with my old friend. You understand, Bryan, we both know that in a few months, Tom will return to our midst. We must speed up our steps to figure things out so that we can reduce the sacrifices."

Bryan nodded solemnly, and suddenly, his eyelids twitched.

Slughorn, he had an impression of this person. Dirk Cresswell, the current head of the Goblin Liaison Office of the Ministry of Magic, had mentioned him in front of him. Dirk told him that Slughorn seemed to regret not being able to become his head of house.

"Let's split up, Bryan—"

Dumbledore stood up from his chair and hastily took his traveling cloak from a coat rack on the side, and then said to Bryan,

"I hope we can both bring back good news. Oh!"@@novelbin@@

Dumbledore only came to his senses after walking to Fawkes' side. He turned around and showed an apologetic smile to Bryan,

"If you don't mind, I hope Fawkes can come with me. It's not a bad thing, is it? Young people should walk more with their own feet from time to time—"

Bang—

With a flash of blinding light and a rush of wind, Dumbledore and Fawkes vanished in a swirl of flames, leaving Bryan alone in the suddenly silent office.

Shaking his head, Bryan turned back and made his way back to his own office, his mind already racing with plans and possibilities. When Bryan returned to his office, the well-fed owl had already left.

After packing his luggage, it was not until he looked at his desk that he remembered the other task that lay before him. Hurrying to his desk, Bryan snatched up a quill and parchment, and hastily scribbled out a message.

A strand of electric light rubbed between his fingers made the parchment float up and automatically fold into an exquisite paper crane. Then, the flapping wings of the paper crane, which automatically replicated into three copies, flew out of the crack of the window squeezed by the owl like a meteor.

Gryffindor Tower

Harry, Ron, and Hermione, who had just walked out of the warm common room, were hurriedly going down the stairs and heatedly discussing something.

A white light suddenly darted up from the bottom of the stairs, circled over their heads a few times, and then dived down. Hermione quickly caught the paper crane.

"What's the matter, Hermione?" Harry asked after exchanging glances with Ron, "Could it be Krum's apology letter?"

"Oh, no—" Hermione flipped through it unhappily and said impatiently, "It's Professor Watson. He's taking leave again."

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