Chapter 108: Little Tom is Going to Get Furry

Chapter 108: Little Tom is Going to Get Furry

Bloodline Magic was an incredibly astonishing form of magic.

When Harry Potter was young, wizards would often come to Privet Drive to "pilgrimage to the Savior," to see the "Boy Who Lived," and his lightning-bolt scar, a symbol of his heroic deed.

Harry's uncle had often found this greatly annoying. These strange people brought all sorts of bizarre pets, owls flew everywhere, and some even hugged him and said things he didn't understand, like "Muggle."

Of course, what made him even more sensitive were the conversations these people had: "The Potters, yes, I heard that—" "—That's right, their son, Harry—" This simply distressed him. (Original novel content)

Yet, despite all this, Voldemort and the Death Eaters still couldn't find Harry Potter and his uncle's family.

This situation would continue until Harry turned seventeen, or until Harry no longer considered his uncle's family as relatives.

"This magic isn't actually that miraculous," Snape explained the specific effects of this magic, mentioning many spells with similar effects.

"A safe house that no one can discover unless invited by the owner; Muggle-Repelling Charms on wizarding territory that Muggles can never set foot on unless led by a wizard; the Fidelius Charm where a house can never be spied upon unless the Secret-Keeper reveals it—"

There were too many.

Mentioning safe houses, the Fidelius Charm, and similar spells involved a "temporary social severance" centered around a dwelling, possessing a unique fairy-tale charm of "when I'm in my house, the world has nothing to do with me."

Lockhart clearly understood this part of the content easily.

Because he had a Dark magical creature pet, the "Sack Hood," which actually followed this same principle.

He was very certain that as long as no one cast a Patronus Charm or other magic that might target this dark magical creature, he could hide inside this red cloak and remain undetected, even if he stood in front of Voldemort or Dumbledore.

However, the reason Dark magical creatures were called "Dark magic" was that once inside this "Sack Hood," the cloak would continuously erode his mind, attempting to consume and digest it.

"Yes," Snape nodded. "Such magic always comes with a price."

"I've heard that the exceptionally death-fearing Nicolas Flamel often lived in a safe house, and slowly began to develop a disinterest in the continuation of life, leading him to ultimately choose to stop using the Sorcerer's Stone to extend his life."

So, what was the price of Bloodline Magic?

Snape provided the answer: "Loneliness."

He lowered his head, making his expression unreadable, his voice only slightly hoarse. "We always say it's for their own good, using magic to forcibly distance them from some people, and in the end, we find that they are also distancing themselves from us."

"The human heart is so complex that we cannot measure it. We cannot clearly say how much we love them, nor can we be sure how much they love us."

"At the end of the story in The Enamored Captive, the one who hated the witch most in the world was precisely the lover whose soul she had imprisoned."

He looked up, his eyes hollow, at Lockhart. "After casting Bloodline Magic, you will find that the love of your blood relatives for you is rapidly fading, even turning into dislike, resentment, and even complete disregard!"

"Yes, disregard. We will ultimately find that all we can sever is our social connection with our blood relatives. This is the price of this Dark art."

"Lily was very clever. Her Bloodline Magic only extended until Harry came of age, or until the emotional bond between Harry and his blood relatives broke. This clearly better protected Harry and her love for her other blood relatives, thereby amplifying the power of this magic."

"She knew how to restrain herself."

Snape pursed his lips. "I couldn't. I didn't want my parents to suffer any harm, even if they hated me for it, even if I had to endure the pain of loneliness—"

"Gilderoy, actually, if I weren't traveling with you to protect the children this Christmas holiday, I would be in Spinner's End right now, at my old home, continuing to endure the test of loneliness."

Speaking of Lily, speaking of Harry, speaking of his parents and family, speaking of his pain—Snape rarely opened up his heart, looking both lonely and pained.

Perhaps...

He had truly begun to consider Lockhart his friend.

Perhaps he was also bravely taking a step outside his "Sack Hood."

The world wasn't just about romantic and familial love; there was also friendship. For a lonely soul like him, nothing could bring more comfort than friendship. It wouldn't be too close, nakedly exposed to the point of instinctive rejection, nor too distant, leaving only calculations.

So sometimes Snape and Dumbledore were very similar, both enduring the estrangement of family affection and the torment of love, ultimately finding solace in friendship.

Dumbledore had his good friend Professor McGonagall, and now he seemed to have met his first friend in life, at the age of 33, which wasn't too late at all.

The tea in the cups had, at some point, been replaced by rich wine. On this tranquil afternoon, when most of the young wizards were on holiday and had left school, the sun was just right, and the breeze was intoxicating.

When magic completely permeated every aspect of life, these wizards who truly embarked on the magical path sometimes had to face something: their magic and their lives were constantly at odds with each other.

Or rather...

The power of magic always blossomed from the soul; it was a struggle between one's inner self and one's actions.

Many complex things in life often presented clear and obvious answers, but people often wouldn't choose or act on them because such choices were too, too difficult.

Not everyone could bravely walk the right path, because that was being cruel to oneself.

Being cruel to others was easy; being cruel to oneself was hard.

"Dark magic is like that. It grants us miraculous powers far beyond our own ability to control, yet it also tortures us. This is the price we must pay."

Snape spoke of Dark Arts with a calm demeanor. "I've never thought that a fervent love for Dark Arts was wrong. I believe it is the wizard's magic; it always gives me a kind of—"

He searched for words, finally using Lockhart's habitual description, "Very magical, very wizard-like magic, this wonderful experience."

"Did Lily really distance herself from me because I liked Dark Arts?"

Snape hadn't drunk much wine, yet he was already somewhat intoxicated, his eyes hazy as he looked out the window, as if seeing something. "This society is so disgusting, always fond of labeling people. What's even more disgusting is that sometimes we have to succumb to these labels."

"Should Dark wizards who study Dark Arts be evil? Should they have a 'pure-blood supremacist' political inclination? Should they follow the Dark Lord?"

Snape let out a laugh, as if mocking some people, and also himself. "It doesn't make logical sense, does it? But the fact is, if I didn't identify with 'pure-blood supremacy,' I would never have access to the profound magical knowledge resources controlled by pure-blood families. I would hardly have the opportunity to access the information I craved."

"You even have to act a little bad, do some awful things, otherwise these people won't acknowledge you at all."

"And Dark magic also erodes our minds, driving us to do such things."

"We find release in malice, joy in it, and also pain. I cleverly realized that I couldn't let myself wallow in such malice; I needed to fight this force, and so I could only endure more pain."

"I chose an extremely difficult magical path."

He turned his head, his face filled with bitterness. "But sometimes fate likes to mock people. I clearly know that this is the magical path most suited for me."

Lockhart sipped his wine, thought for a moment, and asked, "So do you ever want to escape? Escape from all this, even by means of death?"

Snape didn't speak.

He lowered his head, swaying, as if completely drunk. After a long while, he simply said, his voice faint, "I don't know. The path of magic is too, too difficult. It's relentlessly testing my inner self. I can't be strong, I really can't be strong inside..."

Difficult?

Not difficult. A strong heart, facing pain, that's all.

But principles are principles, easy for anyone to say. When magic appears in every aspect of life, in every minute and second of life, how many people can truly achieve it?

Dumbledore?

He probably couldn't either. Saying things like "death is a great adventure," he, too, after his mental strength was exhausted, had to utter such seemingly generous and high-minded words, and then fled this painful world.

After he died, Grindelwald also died, showing no desire to live anymore. And his brother Aberforth, who always said he hated him, could he really be happy because of his death?

"I can't either," Lockhart sighed, stroking the furry head of the golden retriever puppy curled on his lap. He had to admit that if it were him, there would be no saving him either. "No wonder there's a saying: 'The wise don't fall in love.'"

"The wise don't fall in love?" Snape murmured the phrase, then suddenly burst into laughter. "The wise don't fall in love!"

Cannot break free, cannot escape, cannot grasp, yet unwilling to let go.

For some, love is more terrifying than a curse, because they are willing to succumb.

It hurts, but they prefer to hurt.

Lockhart said nothing. In fact, Snape didn't need any judgment, nor did he need anyone to tell him what was good or bad. All he needed was a listener, someone to accompany him as he spoke the words that had been suppressed in his heart for countless days and nights, nothing more.

Unbeknownst to them, the night grew hazy.

The two sat quietly, lost in their own thoughts, not speaking again.

Snape leaned against the window, gazing blankly at the white moonlight outside, his eyes hazy with drink.

In truth, he saw some things more clearly than others. Lily not choosing him wasn't something that could be resolved by him abandoning his hobbies and magical path, or giving up his career pursuits. If not James Potter, there would have been someone else, but it wouldn't have been him.

They just weren't compatible. She didn't have that kind of liking for him, and he wasn't oblivious to it.

Returning to Hogwarts, becoming a magic professor, watching young wizards fall in and out of love, generation after generation, even the dullest person, after seeing it for over a decade, would have long understood everything.

He was destined to be in pain; this was his magical path, inescapable, unavoidable. He could only gather his courage and walk it.

He had almost lost the will for it, living like a walking corpse.

But Lockhart told him that perhaps he could also deal with Voldemort with his own abilities. So, he would once again summon his resolve and walk this magical path, this Dark Arts path that Lily had always strongly opposed.

To avenge Lily with Dark Arts—he didn't know why a twisted pleasure welled up in his heart. Lily, look, I'm killing the Dark Lord with Dark Arts. Just you watch!

Even if fighting the power of Dark Arts eroding his mind was incredibly difficult.

Lockhart was also thinking about his own affairs.

Dumbledore told him that love could make life eternal, sustaining its completeness.

Snape told him that love could shatter life, causing a part of it to be missing.

Then he suddenly had a very curious idea: inject this love into Tom's diary Horcrux!

Just like the story of "The Wizard and the Hopping Pot" in The Tales of Beedle the Bard that Dumbledore mentioned, where the heart was locked in a box, and life was no longer harmed by emotions, but when looked at later, the heart had grown fur in the box.

Old Voldemort, you locked your childhood Tom in the diary, and it's going to get furry too!

Heh heh, he really looked forward to seeing what kind of effect it would have.

Would it break through Voldemort's mental defenses?

Or would it shake Voldemort's unwavering sense of belonging to Hogwarts as his "home"? Thereby breaking the curse on the Defense Against the Dark Arts professorship?

He was quite excited.

...

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