The investigators from the International Confederation of Wizards left.
The group from the French Ministry of Magic also left.
They left in such a hurry that they didn't even have time to say goodbye to Norton.
And Norton clearly didn't need it either.
Because throughout the entire process, aside from his face being a bit pale, there wasn't the slightest expression on his face.
It was like he had suffered such a violent shock that his whole body had gone into a stress response.
All the teachers and students in the hall watched Norton in silence.
Their eyes were full of anticipation.
They were hoping Norton would say something.
However, Norton turned around expressionlessly, completely ignoring the teachers and students below, and walked straight out of the hall.
He clutched his left arm, which was giving off an intense burning sensation, and staggered all the way to the other end of the corridor. Then, he passed through a pitch-black doorway.
Buzz!
Accompanied by a dizzying spin, the bright and luxurious buildings around him rapidly disappeared.
In their place was a gloomy, dim hall.
At the end of the hall, a tall figure stood with hands behind his back in front of a fireplace, staring at the eerie green magical flames, as if thinking about something.
The appearance of that figure made the burning sensation in Norton's arm grow even stronger.
Thud!
Under the extreme pain, Norton finally collapsed onto the smooth, icy marble floor.
And the sound of him dropping to his knees seemed to pull the man in front of the fireplace out of his thoughts.
He slowly turned his head and walked over step by step.
The green flames cast his shadow huge and looming, gradually covering Norton.
With the flickering of the fire, the massive, ferocious shadow swayed continuously, like a beast opening its bloody jaws at Norton.
"I originally thought that among those besides me, you were the only one truly capable of understanding the essence of my 'love.'"
"Although your love is so narrow, it is still love after all. I had high hopes for you. But look at what you've done. You really have… disappointed me.", Number One spoke slowly.
Unexpectedly, his voice was incredibly gentle, like a warm spring breeze, like a mother's lullaby, enough to bring calm and comfort to the heart.
But to Norton, those words sounded like a demon's whisper.
His whole body trembled, sweat pouring endlessly, quickly pooling into a small puddle beneath him.
He lay collapsed in that puddle. Even though fear was practically spilling out of him, he still forced himself to raise his head, gritting his teeth, his face twisted as he said, "I refuse to accept it!"
"Why can't I take revenge? You keep talking about love all day, what's the point of that? You already tried it before, didn't you?"
"Did Dumbledore and Link Flamel ever buy into it? Wake up, Number One! You've just been fooled by Dumbledore! All that crap about love, it's all an illusion!"
Number One shook his head. He bent down, took a deep breath, and then continued, "Hate is a byproduct of love. I can see its ugly form on you, smell its foul stench."
"Where there is love, hate will be born. That is nothing to be ashamed of. On the contrary, it is a necessary path toward true 'great love.'"
"You are very talented, truly. You managed to reach this point without any guidance."
"But this is as far as you go. From your actions, it's clear that you have already been controlled by hate, become a slave to it."
"That is wrong. If you want to go further, you must let go of hate and pick up love again. Only then can you reach the next stage."
"Number One, I don't want to reach the next stage. I just want revenge!"
"You still don't understand. I have never forbidden you from taking revenge. What I forbid is using hatred to take revenge."
"What nonsense are you talking about, Number One?! If not hatred, what else could you use for revenge?"
"Of course, love. Of course, at your current stage, you may not understand what I'm saying. So for now, all you need to do is watch."
"Watch my demonstration. I will show you how to take revenge using love. And after that, I believe you will come to understand something."
Number One spoke with a smile, his face full of compassion.
But that trace of compassion looked terrifying in Norton's eyes.
A bone-chilling fear crept into his body, stimulating every cell.
"I will not punish you for what you've done, my brother. You are me, and I am you. We are one. Go back. Be your Norton. Manage Beauxbatons well. One day soon, you will see what you wish to see.", Number One continued speaking.
His voice gradually became blurred, and along with it, the world Norton could perceive.
The gloomy hall around him, the icy floor beneath him, the flickering flames not far away, even… his own consciousness.
Everything began to blur.
And when he regained awareness again, Norton was shocked to find himself back at Beauxbatons.
He lay weakly on the ground, leaning against the wall, drenched in sweat.
Not far away, his female secretary and a large group of teachers and students were rushing toward him.
The healer from the Beauxbatons infirmary at the front helped him up, while the others gathered around him.
Every face was full of anxiety. Their mouths moved nonstop, as if calling his name or saying other things.
But Norton couldn't hear a single word.
All he could hear was a loud ringing in his ears.
After a long while, with the healer's help, the ringing gradually faded.
The real sounds around him slowly became clear again.
"Headmaster Norton! You must hold on!"
"We've lost Headmistress Maxime, we've lost Professor Liro, we can't lose you too!"
"Don't leave us!"
"You're our hero!"
"You did nothing wrong!"
———
It wasn't just the teachers and students of Beauxbatons.
Even the French Minister of Magic, who had already left, had rushed back.
Looking at the weak Norton, he anxiously pushed through the crowd and grabbed him.
"Oh my! Headmaster Norton, how did it come to this? It's fine! We'll handle the International Confederation of Wizards. It won't be a big deal! Don't worry! We will absolutely not let them take you away!"
Hearing the sincere words from everyone around him, color rapidly returned to Norton's face.
His emotions surged beyond words.
A flame called hope reignited in his dried-up heart.
He hadn't lost yet.
So what if he failed?
So what if his plan was exposed?
He was still the hero of Beauxbatons, and even the entire French magical world.
Because he did what others wanted to do but didn't dare to.
"Hoo!"
He took a deep breath, turned his head to look out the window at the Beauxbatons emblem placed atop the tower, gleaming brilliantly under the sunlight, and said in his heart, 'Number One, let me see it properly! Let me see just how you're going to use love to take revenge!'
———
[Hogwarts Castle]
[Gryffindor Dormitory]
Harry groaned as he sat up from bed, stretching comfortably.
A bright smile still lingered at the corner of his mouth. He looked gentler and more energetic than before.
"Ron, get up. We need to go to class."
As he spoke, Harry climbed down from bed and began getting dressed and washing up.
Ron, meanwhile, was still mumbling in his sleep.
It took quite a while before he finally crawled up, bleary-eyed.
Then, when his gaze instinctively landed on Harry, his half-closed eyes snapped wide open.
Because he clearly saw Harry actually making his bed.
And not just casually, but meticulously, like a hotel attendant.
"What the hell, Harry, have you lost your mind?"
Ron blurted out without thinking.
Harry was startled by him and quickly turned around, lowering his voice to complain, "Ron! Keep it down. Not everyone has to get up as early as we do for Potions. The others are still sleeping."
After saying that, he nervously glanced at the other beds.
Fortunately, those boys were sleeping like logs and hadn't been woken by Ron's shout.
Seeing this, Ron's gaze toward Harry grew even stranger.
"Seriously, Harry," Ron said sincerely, "if you feel unwell anywhere, I suggest you go see Madam Pomfrey as soon as possible. This kind of thing shouldn't be delayed!"
"You're the one who should see Madam Pomfrey. I'm perfectly fine. Actually, I feel great!"
Harry frowned and shot back.
He was telling the truth.
Since the term began, more than a week had passed.
During this time, aside from the first day, he had been having that wonderful dream he had been longing for almost every night.
That incomparable sense of bliss made him feel like his mind was getting clearer and his mood more and more positive.
It felt amazing.
Harry and Ron joked around for a while, and eventually Ron, barely done washing up, was dragged out of the dorm by Harry.
The Gryffindor common room in the morning was already lively.
Fifth- and seventh-year students preparing for exams occupied the corners, holding thick books and reading quietly, completely absorbed.
Students like Harry gathered in small groups, taking their time getting ready to head to class.
As for the new students who had just arrived at Hogwarts, they were even more interesting.
They were gathered around a giant Hogwarts map, studying it.
Harry wasn't surprised by this at all.
For first-years, especially those from Muggle families, Hogwarts Castle was like a giant amusement park or treasure trove.
The fake doors, magical passages, prank traps, moving staircases… all of it was incredibly fascinating.
Of course, sometimes these "interesting" things caused trouble.
Like getting lost and being late for class.
Harry and Ron had experienced that themselves in their first year.
Even now, just thinking about it made Harry shiver.
An angry Professor McGonagall was truly terrifying.
Even so, life back then had been much happier overall, far happier than now. If he could choose, Harry would rather go back to that time than live like this, buried in piles of books every day while also worrying about Voldemort.
"Harry, what classes do we have this morning?"
While Harry was lost in those memories, Ron's listless voice suddenly sounded.
Harry didn't get annoyed at being interrupted and immediately answered, "Potions. Then this afternoon we've got Herbology and Defense Against the Dark Arts."
"Oh! Defense Against the Dark Arts and Potions! Brilliant, just brilliant. I hate both of those. No need to mention Snape, I've got zero expectations for his class."
"As for Potions… yeah, I don't think Professor Slughorn will be anything special either," Ron complained.
"If I remember right, this is our first time having those classes since term started, right?"
"Don't say that. Professor Slughorn isn't bad," Harry paused, as if searching for something good to say, but in the end only managed, "At least he should be better than Snape."
Ron let out a cold laugh.
"As long as he's a normal person, he's already better than Snape! Oh right! Have you got your Potions textbook ready?"
"And why do you think Slughorn invited you to keep attending Potions? It doesn't make any sense. What kind of professor begs a student to come to class?"
Harry didn't answer right away. He nodded, then quickly shook his head.
In fact, last year, he had already chosen to give up continuing with NEWT-level Potions.
In his opinion, it was one of the best decisions he had ever made.
If he had stayed in Snape's class, he would have gone mad from Snape's sharp tongue and constant targeting.
But who would have thought that this year Snape would turn around and take over Defense Against the Dark Arts?
When Harry heard that news, he had completely broken down.
He even suspected Snape had switched just to keep tormenting him, possibly by persuading Link, one of the school governors.
And that left Harry completely stuck.
To get away from Snape, he had given up Potions altogether.
That practically meant giving up his dream of becoming an Auror.
To become an Auror, you had to get an Outstanding in NEWT Potions.
Just as Harry was feeling troubled, Slughorn's invitation for him to continue Potions arrived.
When he received the invitation through Professor McGonagall, he was both shocked and delighted.
Delighted because he could pursue his dream again.
Shocked because he couldn't understand Slughorn's motive at all.
And honestly, Harry didn't have a great impression of Slughorn either.
He felt the man was too snobbish.
That party Slughorn hosted on the train had been nothing but a display of favoritism.
Those with connections got his enthusiasm, while those without were clearly looked down on.
"Hey, Harry, stop zoning out and answer me."
Ron sounded a bit annoyed. "What's going on with you lately? You've been acting weird, spacing out all the time."
Harry snapped back to himself and sighed.
"I don't know either. But at least I've got my Potions textbook ready. Sirius had Flourish and Blotts send it by owl."
"Really?" Ron said, sounding pleased. "That's great. My book's still Charlie's old one. Maybe I can borrow yours later."
Harry didn't say anything, just nodded.
He knew the Weasley family's situation well.
Having so many brothers had its downsides.
As the youngest boy, Ron had to use everything his brothers had already used, from clothes to textbooks.
Honestly, Harry thought using old textbooks wasn't a problem. In fact, it could even be better.
Especially if it was Charlie's.
A book like that would definitely have notes inside, and sometimes those notes could be incredibly helpful.
Unfortunately, Ron didn't see it that way.
To him, those hand-me-downs were just embarrassing.
While talking, the two arrived at the Great Hall and began eating breakfast.
Hogwarts breakfasts were always the same. Eggs, bacon, beans, or grilled tomatoes.
High in calories, practically a nightmare for girls trying to lose weight, but perfect fuel for growing boys like Harry and Ron.
They devoured their food, and only then realized that their plates hadn't disappeared as usual. They were still sitting there on the table.
"What's going on?"
Harry frowned. "Did the house-elves in the kitchen slack off? That's not right. Don't they usually clear the dirty plates immediately?"
Ron's face looked terrible. He stared at Harry, mouth slightly open, as if wanting to explain, but no words came out.
The next moment, two large hands reached out at the same time and took away their plates.
Harry turned his head in confusion and saw that the ones collecting the plates were two people dressed in white robes, wearing white head coverings, white gloves, and cloth covering their faces.
Even though they were covered from head to toe, Harry still recognized them by their large, bulky figures.
Goyle and Crabbe.
Draco Malfoy's two lackeys.
"Oh! Harry Potter! And the red-haired poor Weasley!" Goyle and Crabbe said in unison.
"Your plates are so clean, I don't think they even need washing! Seriously, how do you do it? Is it because your families are so poor you never get enough to eat, so when you got to Hogwarts you just went wild?"
After saying that, they burst out laughing at their own joke.
Harry's face instantly flushed red, and he stood up, about to snap back.
But just as he pulled out his chair, Ron let out a cold laugh.
"Heh! Where do you get the nerve to say that? Your plates are ten thousand times cleaner than ours!"
"Not only that, after finishing your portions, you keep staring at other people's plates, and if someone can't finish, you rush over to eat their leftovers!"
"Because of you two, Slytherin's plates are the cleanest in all of Hogwarts! I mean it. Doesn't Malfoy ever feed you properly? I should report him for animal abuse!"
"You!", Goyle flared up instantly.
He shouted and rolled up his sleeves, ready to charge.
But the next moment, Crabbe grabbed him.
Crabbe whispered something into Goyle's ear, and Goyle's expression changed immediately.
He shot Ron a furious glare, then quickly left with Crabbe toward the other house tables.
"Heh! You two fat mutts! Come back if you've got the guts!"
Ron continued taunting smugly, then turned around and noticed Harry staring at him with an extremely strange look.
"Hey, why are you looking at me like that?"
Harry shook his head.
"Why were Goyle and Crabbe dressed like that collecting plates? And how do you know so much about Slytherin's plates?"
"Uh, well…"
Ron stammered, his eyes darting around, clearly trying to come up with a lie.
But before he could, Hermione sat down beside Harry with her books and said calmly, "Detention duty. That's their punishment for starting a fight on the first day of term."
"Shut up, Hermione!"
Ron snapped, his face turning red.
But Hermione didn't care and continued, "Not just clearing plates. The people who fought also have to clean out all the abandoned classrooms."
"And the bathrooms, including the girls' bathroom. And maintaining the lawns, and repairing parts of the castle… Harry, how do you not know any of this?"
She glanced at Ron, who was red-faced, and then suddenly understood.
"Oh! You thought it was too embarrassing, so you didn't tell anyone, including Harry, right? Well… as Link likes to say using an Eastern proverb, this is like covering your ears while stealing a bell."
"Don't you realize? Gryffindor already lost face the moment you fought Slytherin that day. Especially since you lost!"
"We did not lose!" Ron jumped up and shouted. "Link just showed up at the worst time! If he'd been a little later, it would've been those Slytherin guys getting pinned down and beaten!"
Hermione didn't reply, just looked at Ron with a cold smile, making him uneasy.
Because he knew the truth.
If Link had come any later, he probably would've been beaten even worse by those sneaky Slytherins.
He really wasn't good at fighting.
Harry quickly pulled Ron back down and frowned.
"You should've told me earlier. I could've helped you out, made things easier."
Ron's expression softened slightly, but Hermione spoke again, "You'd better forget that idea. Help? You'd only make things worse!"
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