“Harry, Harry? Can you hear me?”

A voice echoed distantly in Harry’s ear, sounding anxious and desperately worried, as if coming from very far away.

“What’s wrong, mate? Talk to us!”

Another somewhat bewildered voice also reached his ears, piercing the fog.

“Was Hermione right? Is your scar hurting again? Harry!”

The two voices kept flashing and echoing in Harry’s muddled mind, sounding close yet blurred as if separated by the veil of a dream or thick glass. At the same time, two unclear figures were desperately swaying before his bleary eyes, their faces were smudges of color.

Harry blinked hard repeatedly, trying desperately to see them clearly, to focus. His consciousness was so thoroughly muddled and disoriented that he couldn’t tell how much time had passed—seconds? Minutes?

But suddenly, as if a switch had been flipped, his keen senses returned sharply to his body all at once.

Hiss—

Drawing in a sharp, gasping breath that burned his throat, Harry sprang up from the cold, damp ground with surprising nimbleness. Then, like a drowning person who had finally surfaced after being pulled under and could breathe freely again, he bent over at the waist, gasping loudly and desperately for air.

“Are you alright, Harry? Have you come round? Say something!”

Hermione shouted with anxiety while forcibly suppressing her voice to avoid drawing attention. She simultaneously patted Harry’s back vigorously with such enthusiastic force that Harry genuinely felt she was trying to break his spine or dislodge his lungs.

He appreciated Hermione’s well-meaning attempt to help, understood she was panicking, but judging by the painful results, he would have honestly preferred her to just stand there helplessly and quietly like Ron was doing.

“I don’t want to spend the rest of my life in a wheelchair, Hermione, so could you please stop patting quite so hard?”

Once Harry showed clear rationality and the ability to speak articulately, Hermione immediately stopped her assault. She covered her mouth with both trembling hands, looking moved to tears. Clearly, the frightening accident that had just happened to him, seeing him collapse, had frightened her very badly.

But Harry had no time to comfort her properly. After his breathing became considerably smoother and more regular, Harry instinctively reached up to cover the lightning-bolt scar on his forehead with his palm.

Then he discovered with surprise that during the unknown amount of time that had just passed while he was unconscious, his previously dry hair had become absolutely soaking wet with sweat, as if he had just washed it or been caught in rain.

From this observation, he could easily deduce that his face probably looked terrible and frightening right now.

“I saw him!!”

Harry shook his head vigorously, sending droplets of sweat flying, and adjusted his collar with shaking fingers, letting the cool breeze drifting across the grounds flow into his shirt and against his agitated skin.

“Who? Who did you see?”

Ron looked at him as if seeing a ghost manifest before his eyes, his freckled face had turned pale, and his voice was trembling as he asked for confirmation he didn’t want.

“Voldemort!” Harry said simply, bluntly, without beating around the bush or softening the blow. “I saw Voldemort.”

Upon hearing that terrible name spoken aloud, Ron instinctively took a stumbling step backward. His face also turned pale in the moonlight, and his expression looked even more terrified than before.

Hermione, however, was much calmer and more composed, wearing an expression that clearly said “just as I thought” and “I knew it.”

“Just like last summer holiday, I saw Voldemort again. This isn’t a hallucination or a nightmare—it must be real,” Harry insisted urgently. “Back then, I saw Voldemort and Cliodna kill a very old Muggle in an old mansion, and it was later proven that it really happened, that the murder was real. So, this time is real too! You have to believe me!”

Afraid that Hermione and Ron might think he had developed some absurd hallucination from being overly concerned and obsessed with Voldemort’s movements, Harry explained preemptively and defensively.

“You mean you saw Voldemort murder someone again—” Ron bit his lips tightly together, his eyes showing indescribable fear and horror.

“I—no, not exactly—”

Recalling the disturbing scene when Voldemort had just appeared before his eye and the strange, unsettling emotions that had surfaced in his heart without any reason—Harry said with both confusion and hesitation coloring his words:

“This time he didn’t kill anyone, but—”

Harry licked his dry, cracked lips nervously, struggling to organize his jumbled thoughts and find the right words so Hermione and Ron could properly understand what he’d experienced.

“I saw someone—a man I’ve never seen before in my life, but he was kneeling submissively in front of Voldemort like a servant, telling him something urgently.

Oh, I couldn’t hear the words clearly, the sound was muffled, but it seemed related to Professor Watson somehow. Voldemort also seemed to think the person wasn’t being clear enough or fast enough and flew into a rage at him, ordering him to investigate further immediately. Voldemort was very nervous and very afraid. Oh, I also saw that Lucius Malfoy was there too, standing nearby!”

“Malfoy’s father was there?” Hermione frowned slightly with concern. “Where were they exactly? Could you tell?”

Harry squinted, concentrating hard, trying to recall details. This particular vision wasn’t nearly as clear or detailed as the last time he’d experienced one in his dream—there were many things he simply hadn’t seen clearly, everything had been hazy.

“In a house somewhere. Oh, it looked quite grand and expensive from what I could see.”

“That would be Malfoy Manor, then, their family home.”

Ron said with certainty, “My dad told us that the Malfoy house is a very luxurious manor in Wiltshire.”

‘Related to Professor Watson—’

Hermione pressed her lips together thoughtfully, her mind working. Professor Watson had passed by them just minutes ago on the grounds. Like Hagrid, he should have just returned to Hogwarts today.

“What do you think Professor Watson did that would make Voldemort afraid, Hermione?” Harry recalled the disturbing fragments he had just witnessed, looking at Hermione hopefully for her analytical insight. “Has the Daily Prophet reported any significant news recently?”

“Even if there was something major, the Daily Prophet wouldn’t say anything honest about it anymore,” Hermione said with familiar frustration at the corrupted press.

After pondering deeply for a while, turning the problem over in her mind, Hermione looked genuinely confused. “Professor Watson wouldn’t have been back in London for more than a day at most. What could he possibly have done in that time to frighten Voldemort?”

“Maybe Hagrid would know something.”

Ron suddenly suggested, looking toward the hut. “He and Professor Dumbledore just came back from Hagrid’s hut together. If Professor Watson has done something remarkable again, something important, Hagrid might know about it or have overheard.”

This was a reasonable deduction, and besides, they had been planning to visit Hagrid anyway before the vision interrupted them.

Harry couldn’t wait another moment. He immediately ran toward Hagrid’s hut at full speed, wanting desperately to get to the bottom of this mystery and also to ask Hagrid what dangerous task Dumbledore had assigned him. Ron followed immediately without question.

After hesitating briefly about whether to persuade Harry to tell Professor Watson or Professor Dumbledore directly about this vision first, to get adult help, Hermione finally suppressed this sensible thought temporarily and ran after her friends.

Two tall, thin figures slowly materialized from the air like ghosts after the three young wizards had run far away across the grounds.

Dumbledore’s sharp gaze followed Harry’s retreating figure intently until the boy rushed into Hagrid’s hut and the door closed behind him, before finally withdrawing his eyes. When he turned to look at Bryan standing beside him, his normally calm eyes were full of deep, troubled worry.

“Clearly, the mysterious connection between Harry and Tom is strengthening substantially, becoming more powerful—”

“This was entirely expected to happen eventually.”

A few vertical lines of concern also appeared between Bryan’s brows, creasing his forehead.

Much sensitive information was shared between the two powerful men. Both understood perfectly why Harry could glimpse what Voldemort was experiencing in real-time, and both understood all too well what potential harm this dangerous connection could eventually cause Harry.

“Do you think Occlumency could help Harry resist this connection, shield his mind?”

Dumbledore’s aged face showed genuine anguish—an expression of vulnerability he rarely revealed in front of others, even trusted colleagues. His normally clear, calm voice had also become somewhat hoarse with emotion.

Bryan raised his eyelids slightly, considering carefully.

“I’m afraid not, unfortunately. You and I both know perfectly well, Headmaster Dumbledore, that Occlumency is certainly effective for resisting mental intrusion and protecting one’s thoughts from Legilimency.

But the connection between Harry and Voldemort is far more arcane and mysterious—it’s a connection at the ultimate soul level. No one can truly explain why the fragment of Voldemort’s soul wrapped around Harry’s soul like a parasite allows him to see what the ‘main soul’ is experiencing in real-time.”

Dumbledore fell into heavy silence, his drooping eyebrows making him appear somewhat dejected and older than his years. Bryan said nothing more either, similarly lost in troubled thought about the consequences.

“I went to Gringotts early this morning to accompany Amelia in opening a vault for her stay here,” Bryan said, changing the subject. “Also, I thought the family crest belonging to Slytherin that Newt obtained from the basilisk’s mouth might possibly be the key to Slytherin’s vault, so I went to verify my guess firsthand.”

Dumbledore, who had been deeply immersed in worry about Harry’s wellbeing, suddenly snapped back to full attention. He looked at Bryan in genuine surprise, his eyebrows rising.

“—My guess was completely correct. It is indeed the key to Salazar Slytherin’s own personal vault.”

Bryan’s frown deepened slightly, his expression troubled.

“This matter is quite complicated and difficult to explain fully. In any case, I obtained some significant help from the vault that will substantially improve my magical accomplishments and power. Oh, please forgive me for not being able to show you the specifics—that thing has already dispersed on its own after use, and I personally cannot reproduce it yet. Not until I understand it better.”

“Tom knows about this visit?”

Many rapid thoughts flashed through Dumbledore’s blue eyes like shooting stars. He temporarily suppressed his natural curiosity and focused entirely on the implications of what Bryan was saying.

“I ran into Theodore Nott’s father at Gringotts quite by chance,” Bryan explained.

“He must have gone afterward to secretly find the goblin called Bogrod who showed me the way to the vault. I personally believe he didn’t use any illegal means on Bogrod otherwise Voldemort wouldn’t have needed to send Senior Nott to investigate again for more information. Bogrod doesn’t know clearly what specific help I obtained from Salazar Slytherin’s vault, only that I went down.”

While speculating about the chain of information, Bryan continued thoughtfully.

“I think… I think perhaps Bogrod, under Senior Nott’s threats or inducements, told him some limited information, such as that I went deep underground and opened an ancient vault belonging to one of the founders. But no specifics about what was inside.”

Bryan narrowed his eyes slightly, his purple pupils generating a bright, calculating light.

“But Harry said Voldemort felt nervous and afraid when hearing this vague report. Now that’s really interesting, isn’t it, Headmaster Dumbledore? What could frighten him so much?”

After a few seconds of silence, the deep wrinkles on Dumbledore’s face smoothed out somewhat, and brief joy flashed in his blue pupils.

“You’re absolutely right to notice that, Bryan. Tom feels nervous and afraid of what you might have gained. Oh, this is indeed worth pondering carefully and analyzing. It seems we need to investigate this matter thoroughly, find out what he knows that we don’t.”

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Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep