Chapter 762: Chapter 762

They hurriedly lowered their heads, opened their exam papers, and began answering the questions. Harry thought while writing, Snape seemed very angry, was it because he was coming to invigilate them? From his words, Professor Bagshot should still be at the school.

For the next two hours, the classroom was silent, with only the sound of quills scratching against paper. After the exam ended, students filed out and discussed why Snape was invigilating them.

"Maybe Professor Bagshot is sick," one student said.

"He was fine this morning, and Snape said he's in charge of the practical assessment this afternoon," another replied.

Harry saw the worried look on Neville's face and felt a wave of concern. He took the opportunity to talk to Hermione about it during lunch. Hermione, holding her fork, pondered for a while. Follow current novᴇls on novelFirｅ.net

"There's only so much we can do about this, Harry," Hermione said gloomily, noticing Harry's attempt to interject, she raised her hand to stop him, "Neville wants to do something for Professor Bagshot, similar to what you did for Lupin back then."

"Of course it's not the same!" Harry exclaimed. Several people around looked over, so he lowered his voice and continued, "At least I won't be harmed, but he—But that person," he said calmly, "I saw with my own eyes what he did—though only in memory—there were plenty of innocent people who died because of him! That's why I refused his invitation after that. In case he wants to do something dangerous to Neville..."

"People can change, he's been in prison for fifty years, hasn't he?" Hermione whispered, "And didn't we deduce that he's under strict spell restrictions?"

"A Dark Lord who used a dedicated wand, I can't help but feel sorry for him," Ron muttered.

After the practical Defense Against the Dark Arts exam in the afternoon, ignoring Ron and Hermione's curious looks, Harry caught up with Neville and asked, "N-Neville, did Professor Bagshot say anything to you in private?"

"He said I did well," Neville said, pleased.

"Oh, I mean, besides that—"

"You want to know when Professor Bagshot left the school?" Neville looked at him.

Harry hesitated for a moment and then nodded.

"I did, but he said he wasn't sure himself," Neville said quietly, "but he gave me this." He pulled out a walnut-sized glass ball from his pocket, "A peeking glass. One of the seven types mentioned by Professor Hipp. It contains a strand of Professor Bagshot's hair."

Harry exchanged a meaningful glance with Ron and Hermione.

"—But it's broken," Neville gasped for breath, and Harry was somewhat dumbfounded, "B-broken?" he stammered. Neville looked at him strangely, "Yeah, it's just a keepsake Professor Bagshot gave me."

"Can I see it, Neville?" Hermione said in an unusually casual tone, "Well, I didn't know Professor Bagshot was interested in ancient magical texts."

Neville trusted her and handed her the glass ball.

"It's one of his early works, obviously unsuccessful. Professor Bagshot has been interested in ancient magical texts for a long time, hasn't he, Harry?"

"Yes... I did see a lot of related books in his office, and we discussed it together," Harry said blankly, past scenes flashed in his mind, and he suddenly felt a strong sense of guilt. He looked at Hermione, hoping to hear from her that there were no sinister magical tricks hidden inside.

He really hoped he was wrong.

"The craftsmanship is exquisite, and it depicts patterns." After a few minutes, Hermione said, handing the glass ball back to Neville, "But it is indeed broken, with incomplete magical text structure inside."

"Professor Bagshot said the same thing to me," Neville said, "the pattern on it is one of his favorites, you can see similar patterns on his clothes."

"Like Professor Slughorn's golden buttons?" Ron sneered.

Neville couldn't help but glare at him and retorted stiffly, "Professor Bagshot's taste is obviously better." After he left, Hermione shook her head at Harry and Ron.

"You heard what he said just now, I really didn't find anything wrong."

"Well, uh—this is the best outcome," Harry breathed a sigh of relief, feeling a weight lifted off his chest.

The next few days were calm. Ginny's O.W.Ls exams were coming to an end, and Harry also found time to finish his last class in Dumbledore's office. As Dumbledore announced the end of the course, Harry felt a twinge of reluctance.

"You've seen the past hundred years of history almost through my eyes, but that doesn't mean you have the same wisdom as I do. It takes time to digest, this process may be short, or it may take a lifetime," Dumbledore said softly.

In the deep blue eyes of the old man opposite, there seemed to be full of enthusiasm and expectation. Harry shifted his gaze slightly, landing on a stack of official letters and a book, "Tales of Beedle the Bard," on the desk.

Dumbledore stared at Harry and noticed where his gaze had stopped. He explained casually, "That's a letter from the International Confederation of Wizards. They've been sending almost one every day lately... I've been a bit procrastinating."

Harry actually wanted to ask about the book of stories, why it was on the desk, but the timing didn't seem quite right. He decided to find a more relaxed atmosphere to discuss the topic.

"How do I digest—" Harry's words were cut off.

"Do the right thing, Harry. Not the easy thing," Dumbledore said, "And also, think diligently. This principle seems to be talked about a lot, but from what I've observed, many people can endure physical torture but cannot bear the pain of loneliness and contemplation."

Harry nodded as if he understood.

"So—It's time to talk about the fragments of your soul."

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