"How will you ensure that the human souls you guide are hers?"
"With this." Dumbledore pointed to his chest.
"Desire?" Howl looked at Dumbledore with little trust.
At this point, the two officially diverged.
Howl, from the Ancient Greece magic system, focused on the essence of the soul, emphasizing decisive soul cutting, Curse removal, and then collecting usable residual souls for secondary construction.
Dumbledore, inheriting the modern magic system, placed more importance on desire and memory, using spells to indirectly induce active changes in the soul's essence.
Similar to… talk-no-jutsu.
Even the initial examination of Nagini, their approaches were completely different.
Howl chose a spiritual inspection that went straight to the depths of the soul.
Dumbledore, on the other hand, used Legilimency for memory analysis.
After a long while, Howl shook his head: "I don't think your idea has a chance of success. To be honest, I already tried yesterday."
"What?"
Howl nodded, looking at Aberforth.
"Yesterday, after you told me about Nagini and Aurelius, I tried to call out to her in her soul.
I'm sorry to say… I found nothing.
She still kept repeating, 'Kill me.'"
After he finished speaking, inexplicably, both Dumbledores stiffened for a moment. Howl looked at them in confusion: "Do you have anything to say?"
A strange and somewhat awkward smile appeared on Dumbledore's face: "Uh… I have to say, Nagini doesn't know anyone named Aurelius."
?
"Aurelius wasn't always called that," Aberforth explained. "His former name was Credence Barebone, that's the name who weathered the storm with Nagini."
Howl looked stiffly at the two, smoothed his scarf with his hand, and finally gave a helpless smile.
He said no more, a flicker of light passed over his fingertip, and he touched Nagini's forehead.
After a moment, he slowly opened his eyes.
"Good news, when I mentioned Credence, there was indeed a reaction deep within her soul."
Thinking of what had just happened, Howl felt a surge of emotion.
Decades of beastly life, a lifetime of the Curse's torment.
Yet, just mentioning that name, deep within her soul, she could still respond.
As if by instinct.
"Indeed, her human soul still has a certain degree of autonomy and has not been completely annihilated," Howl said. "But this is still not enough to reconstruct a soul for her that is like it once was.
The past is irrecoverable; she has been corroded by the blood Curse for too, too long."
"Perhaps after the soul shell is reconstructed, we can try to complete her humanity and personality by digging into her deep memories," Dumbledore said.
"Not a bad idea… But how do you separate the cursed soul and the human soul using the Imperio?"
Suddenly, Harry spoke: "Can Parseltongue do it?"
Everyone's gaze immediately focused on him. Harry was a bit nervous, but he continued: "Parseltongue can only communicate with snakes, and then the Imperio controls it.
In the mutual pulling, can't we separate the human and snake… uh… qualities… differences… two threads!!"
Harry's words failed him, and he could only make a rough analogy out of helplessness.
But Dumbledore and Howl exchanged a glance; they could understand what the boy was trying to express.
"Looks like this will be a big project."
After determining the general approach, they still needed to refine many details. Even Harry, who was new to the Wizard path, understood that with something like a soul, there was no room for error.
During the discussion of details, Dumbledore frequently looked at Harry.
He couldn't help but sigh, how wonderful it would be if this child were a Gryffindor.
No other reason, Harry's performance was simply too outstanding.
At the same time, he increasingly felt the ridiculousness of some of his previous thoughts, shaking his head helplessly.
Harry's excellence was inseparable from Howl's guidance. Without this person's existence, relying on his own previous profit-driven mindset, it would have been impossible to cultivate him to this extent.
Deep within the fireplace, rustling sounds continuously emanated.
...
Time quickly passed in the daily hustle and bustle. In Wiltshire, England, there was a manor known to only a very few people.
Malfoy indeed possessed enough capital to be proud, and this was evident solely from his family manor.
Within the sprawling manor, meticulously designed gardens wound throughout, fountains sprayed into the sky, arcing with iridescent light, and white peacocks roamed freely.
And its residence could even be called a luxurious Castle. It was entirely grey-white, with seven black-domed obelisk towers.
Inside the Castle, luxurious decorations were everywhere, including opulent furniture, marble fireplaces, and gilded mirrors.
The entrance hall was wide, with portraits hanging on the walls, and almost all the stone floor tiles were covered by luxurious carpets.
In the living room, Lucius was reading a letter on a long table, his face gloomy.
A scrawny House-elf tremblingly carried a cup of black tea, gently placing it on the table. It pushed the saucer, sliding it towards the center of the table.
Lucius picked up the teacup and took a small sip, but his tongue retracted as if electrocuted.
Lucius put down the teacup, his hand immediately grasping the end of his cane, from which he pulled out his wand.
"Stupid beast!"
A flash of light, and the House-elf was immediately thrown flying.
He didn't even look, merely retracting his hand, tapping the teacup twice with his wand to lower its temperature, then picking it up again: "Where's Draco?"
Beside him, Narcissa paid no heed to her husband's actions, but when Draco was mentioned, she revealed an expression of satisfaction mixed with worry.
"That child stays in the study all day now. I don't know what happened, but he's become very diligent."
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