It was still pouring rain outside the window, and it was already as dark as ink, but inside the castle it was bright and cheerful. The other humans in the school were happily attending the Halloween feast, and the auditorium was already decorated with live bats as usual.

Hagrid's huge pumpkin was carved into a lantern large enough for three people to sit in. It was also rumored that Dumbledore had booked a skeleton dance troupe to keep everyone entertained.

"I'm sorry, Filius," said Ricardo with a smile at Flitwick, who had dragged him to the dining-room, "and I said I was going to the death party." ”

"Oh my god, Ricardo you've been a little ...... this semester Strange," said Flitwick in astonishment, "I think I've met you less than I've met my headmaster." ”

"There's something worth studying, starting with a crisis and continuing with fun," Ricardo laughed without explaining, "By the way, did Lockhart go to you?" ”

It's okay not to say it, but Flitwick's face changed as soon as he said it: "This guy ...... Alas! I don't know what he did! I actually threw away all the things I learned at Hogwarts, and only the memory magic is extremely familiar! ”

Ricardo said that it is really common knowledge that after graduation, you will forget everything you have learned......

"But there's another thing that's quite magical," Flitwick thought for a moment, and said, "This guy seems to be cursed by something, and he can indeed use spells, but he can only use very little magic, except for memory magic, as long as he uses one or two of them, his magic power will be exhausted, and he may even faint." ”

“…… Is this a curse? Ricardo couldn't help but feel guilty, "You can only use memory magic...... Isn't that a great pain for a wizard? ”

"Not really," Flitwick shook his head, "especially with this guy's character...... Also, he was a real Ravenclaw back then. ”

He looked outside the castle, it was already dark, "Well, man, I have to say goodbye to you regretfully, you didn't attend this Halloween party." ”

"There are gains and losses." Ricardo didn't say much, said goodbye and walked back to the office.

On the table, where Voldemort's version of the diary was placed, Ricardo thought for a moment and wrote a few lines:

[Teacher, what do you think of this seventeenth mantra?] 】

[I think...... Your spell doesn't do anything for my remnant, but if it's a whole soul, it helps to corrupt the soul. 】

[Corruption?] 】

Ricardo pondered for a moment and understood what Voldemort's remnant meant: in fact, the "Corruption Spell" that Voldemort spoke of was a spell that would calm and calm the soul. If it was a corrupting spell, Cardo wouldn't dare use it on Voldemort - he still had to study the best way to cast the spell in his remnant, but he couldn't get hurt.

[I see. In other words, out of the seventeen spells, only five can work on Horcruxes, ten are guaranteed to work on complete souls, and two are not clear for the time being, right? 】

[Yes, but these seventeen are not very lethal, Jerry, you should study the powerful ones, not the spells that corrode your mind.] 】

I won't use this spell on you, Mentor Tom. 】

The journal looks like it's stagnant for a while.

[I'm glad you'll think of my feelings, but you can go out and give it a try with a few mudbloods.] That's what I did back then, as long as I forgot about it later, everything could be solved. 】

After a month of communication, Voldemort already knew that he was lurking at Hogwarts, waiting for the right moment to become his spy.

[Got it, Mentor Tom.] 】

Ricardo lifted his pen in agreement, hooked his lips and smiled, his smile cold.

……

At seven o'clock, Ricardo walked straight through the doorway that led to the crowded auditorium.

It was very tempting, with its lights and candles, and the gold plates on the table, but he walked in the direction of the basement classroom.

The aisle leading to Nick's party, which was almost headless, was already lit with candles, but the effect was not pleasant at all: they were small, black, thin candles that shimmered blue when they burned, and even when they shone on his face, they looked eerie.

With every step he took, the temperature dropped.

Ricardo tightened his clothes around himself, but his eyes were full of excitement.

At this moment, he heard a sound, as if a thousand fingernails were scraping against a huge blackboard. It seems to be their music.

Sir Nicholas stood in a doorway, draped in a black velvet curtain.

"My dear friend," he said with infinite sorrow, "welcome, welcome...... I'm so glad you're here......"

He took off his hat with feathers and bowed to invite them in.

The underground classroom was filled with hundreds of milky, translucent figures, most of whom swam around the crowded dance grounds, waltzing to the terrible and trembling sound of thirty bandsaws, which sat on a stage covered with black cloth.

A thousand candles are also lit in a chandelier overhead, emitting a midnight blue glow. His breath formed a cloud of mist in front of him, as if he had stepped into a cold room.

He walked slowly around the edge of the dance hall, past a group of sullen nuns, a ragged man in chains, and a fat friar. A Hufflepuff ghost, with a lively and cheerful temperament, is chatting with a knight with an arrow stuck in his head.

Ricardo also saw a bloodied ghost, skinny, with straight eyes and silver bloodstains, and other ghosts were making room for him.

This guy ...... Seems to be the ghost of Slytherin, Barrow the Bloody?

At the other end of the basement classroom is a long table that is also covered with black velvet. He couldn't wait to step forward, and then covered his nose, the smell was too bad.

Large chunks of rotten meat were placed on beautiful silver plates, and black, charred cakes were piled up in large trays; There is also a large amount of maggot-infused lamb belly, a piece of cheese covered with green hairs.

In the center of the table, a huge tombstone-shaped gray cake was placed, on which the words were spelled out with tar-like icing:

Sir Nicholas de Mimci-Boltington

He died on October 31, 1492

Then a fat ghost approached the table, crouched down, and passed directly through the middle of the table, his mouth wide open, just past a large stinking salmon.

"Can you taste it if you walk through it like this?" Ricardo had a whim. Ask him.

"Pretty much." The ghost said sadly, turning and drifting away.