Cleaning up the ghoul was simpler than Malfoy had imagined. Contrary to common rumors, this creature was actually just a bit ferocious in appearance. Its habits also didn't match its name; it merely ate moths or spiders in attics or barns. The Ministry of Magic classified it as only XX-level (harmless/can be domesticated) in terms of danger. This ghoul hiding in the toilet was quickly expelled.
In reality, either Dobby or Kreacher could have dealt with this ghoul easily. However, as house-elves, they didn't have the awareness to use magic for combat, even though their magic system was very different from that of ordinary wizards, and even Hogwarts' prohibition of Apparition couldn't restrict their movements.
So, Malfoy had to take action himself.
Just as he walked out of the toilet door, Malfoy's body suddenly stiffened.
"Not bad, young man. What year is it now? Or have you changed your method of calculating years?"
An old voice rang in Malfoy's mind. Almost without hesitation, he subconsciously used Occlumency, sealing off his thoughts, and then replied:
"It's 1994 AD now," Malfoy cautiously answered. He already had some guesses about the identity of the owner of this voice.
"Is that so?" The voice seemed somewhat surprised. "I didn't expect I'd slept for so long. Hmm, just over a thousand years. Is Hogwarts still there?" The calm words, like stones thrown into a lake, stirred up waves in Malfoy's heart.
"Indeed," Malfoy didn't expect that his casual guess would actually hit the mark. He didn't know if he was lucky or unlucky. This sentence almost confirmed his guess again.
"I'm a student there now. Oh, the House is Slytherin," Malfoy hoped that this seemingly unintentional disclosure of information would bring him some positive advantages.
"Is that so? That's good. It seems they've developed the school well," the voice said with some relief, then its tone became surprised again: "Not bad Occlumency. It almost makes me want to show off my skills."
The voice continued, but quickly dismissed the idea: "But I wouldn't stoop so low as to do that to a junior."
"You seem to already know my identity? And you know to state your own identity," the deep voice said with some surprise.
"I wouldn't dare deceive you, respected Salazar Slytherin," Malfoy's words were filled with respect.
The owner of the voice was now almost beyond doubt.
"You don't need to worry. Even if you're a Mudblood, I won't do anything to you. My magic won't last much longer," even when stating the fact that his existence was about to disappear, the voice remained calm.
"A cruel little brat seems to have turned this box into an evil magical item. You're the one who destroyed it, right?" At this point, Salazar's voice suddenly became gloomy, as if this matter had violated his taboo.
"If you want to pursue the matter of me destroying your locket, I have nothing to say," Malfoy replied indifferently.
"Of course not. I can still distinguish right from wrong. I should thank you, rather. I've been asleep for a long time, but I still have some awareness of the outside world. The person who modified my locket should be my descendant. I sensed the familiar scent of my bloodline.
Heh, what a disgrace," Salazar said mockingly.
"I'm now just a wisp of obsession, not even a remnant soul. Compared to that, my descendants have even put fragments of their souls into it. I didn't expect that in the years since my death, Dark Magic has developed to this point. Don't tell me this kind of magic is a common method now. If that's the case, even I would be amazed," Salazar's voice continued to ring in Malfoy's mind.
Malfoy was silent, not replying, only a deathly stillness.
"Hiss..." Suddenly, Salazar gasped, making a sound like a snake.
"Could it be, Horcruxes?" Salazar tentatively guessed, and then, without waiting for Malfoy to give a definite answer, began to mutter to himself: "It should be right. Heh, the despicable Herpo is still able to have successors. How laughable, there really are people who inherit his mantle."
"In a sense, the basilisk you left in the Chamber of Secrets prevents you from having the standing to say such things," Malfoy silently complained in his heart, but he didn't show it on his face, maintaining a vigilant expression.
"Is he dead? Since you've already destroyed this Horcrux, has he himself been destroyed?" Salazar pressed.
"No," Malfoy briefly answered Salazar's question, shaking his head, even though there was no one in front of him.
"Is he a very powerful Dark Wizard? I can't imagine, has the magical world now declined to the point where it can only rely on a child your age to track down Dark Wizards who possess Horcruxes?" Salazar's questions came one after another.
If he were still alive, he would definitely "judge" this Dark Wizard himself. However, he was now not even a remnant soul.
"Very powerful, and this isn't even his only Horcrux," Malfoy replied, taking out a gorgeous diadem from his chest, though it was somewhat damaged.
"Rowena's Diadem?" Salazar Slytherin's voice showed surprise for the second time, then said: "If she knew her diadem had been made into such an evil thing, she would definitely be disgusted." He couldn't help but gloat. When they argued in the past, it was often three against one, which was enough for him to hold some "grudges."
"Then it seems Helga's cup didn't escape either," Salazar continued to deduce. "Oh, if Godric were still here, I'd really like to see what expression he'd make if his sword was made into a Horcrux." Salazar's tone became excited, extremely excited, but then he fell into a low mood.
"A thousand years? Besides me still being 'alive' like this. They must be long gone, right?"
The poison called loneliness silently eroded the surrounding air, and the emotions of emptiness and loss almost overflowed the entire space.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Salazar, Gryffindor's sword hasn't been made into a Horcrux. On the contrary, it has already destroyed several Horcruxes," Malfoy still said in a matter-of-fact tone.
"Damn it, even in this, I lost to that red-haired guy. I'm really unwilling," Salazar's voice suddenly became lighter again. Although he was saying something that made him feel discouraged, his spirit perked up again.
"Uh, you can think of it this way, Godric Gryffindor's sword wasn't even looked upon favorably by your descendant," Malfoy comforted.
Having slept in loneliness for a thousand years made Salazar's mental state somewhat chaotic, capricious. Malfoy believed that if he could appease him, that would be for the best, because they would still have to deal with each other later.
"Alright, let's end the meaningless reminiscence here. What I want to do most now is to get rid of my unfilial descendant," Salazar's voice suddenly became serious.
"Now it seems, you're very much to my liking," Salazar's voice sounded faintly, with a hint of expectation.
What followed was endless conversation.
For Malfoy, this should be a sleepless night.
"So that's how it is," Malfoy slumped against the wall, somewhat lost in thought.
What Malfoy hadn't expected was that the diadem of Ravenclaw, symbolizing wisdom, didn't bring him any increase in knowledge. On the contrary, it was Slytherin's locket that allowed him to make significant progress.
In a sense, Salazar Slytherin's teachings might be the most effective way to improve one's strength.
Malfoy also learned of that little-known past.
Back then, Salazar Slytherin, alone against the other three, had a disagreement over the philosophy of admitting students, and left in anger.
This was difficult to understand at the time, because more than a thousand years ago, wizards born to Muggle parents were considered to be more gifted than pure-blood wizards. It was only with the passage of time that pure-blood status became a tool for some people to profit from, packaged with a glamorous facade, touting some illusory things to make them more cohesive.
Humans, as individual entities, are often fragile and always need to keep each other warm, obtaining comfort in various senses, which led to the emergence of united groups, and common interests always...
At that time, Salazar opposed Muggle-born wizards not out of some sense of "nobility" or "inferiority," but because most wizards had previously been persecuted by Muggles. This made the suspicious Salazar unable to maintain trust in Muggles, ultimately leading him to take extreme actions, eventually building a Chamber of Secrets in Hogwarts and leaving behind a basilisk.
At the time, he should have just been preparing to develop a territory for teaching his students, but before leaving in anger, he changed the function of this Chamber.
In his heart, perhaps he feared that one day Muggle-born wizards would begin to eliminate pure-blood wizards, so he left them with the last means of self-preservation.
He would never have imagined that the power he left behind would be used by someone with malicious intentions, who also happened to be his descendant.
"Pure-bloods marrying Muggles? It's truly hard to accept." Salazar's remnant soul said with a sigh after Malfoy told him about the current state of the wizarding society, but it was limited to that. Things had changed, time had passed, and even his last consciousness was about to completely leave this world. What was the point of clinging to his obsession?
Most importantly, what he had adhered to might have been wrong.
Malfoy also knew why Salazar Slytherin would appear in this Horcrux.
As one of the four founders, he might have had some extreme ideas, but he was still an upright wizard, so he didn't choose to use the Horcrux as a means to prolong his life.
He simply used an ancient magic that could maintain a certain amount of thought and memory. By comparison, it was more profound than the portraits in Dumbledore's office that retained some personality, but that was all.
The starting point for these actions was the unwillingness in his heart.
Salazar and the other three parted on bad terms after disagreements. Everyone has their own convictions, and principles that can be easily persuaded aren't principles at all.
Salazar, nearing the end of his life, chose to throw himself into his locket, hoping to find a descendant who would satisfy him, and then carefully teach them, successfully refuting the educational philosophies of the other three.
In reality, this was still very naive.
However, it seemed that even with such a cheeky and childish approach, he still failed miserably. No one can conquer time. The years passed, causing Salazar to constantly fall into slumber to keep his soul power from being worn away. But nearly a thousand years passed, and he still hadn't found the descendant he wanted. Those descendants were either foolish and idiotic, or cold and tyrannical.
None of them caught his eye.
Later, this locket was passed around and ended up in the hands of a distant descendant of Hufflepuff, becoming a wealthy woman's collection. Later, Voldemort murdered that woman, and after much back and forth, the locket returned to the hands of Slytherin's heir.
However, this heir could not possibly satisfy Salazar himself, because he had malicious intentions.
Moreover, after nearly a thousand years, the power left by this wizard was no longer much. Perhaps he would continue to slumber, completely disappearing at some distant time, leaving no trace behind.
But Salazar was finally awakened today.
A young wizard who had already helped him to be freed, whose bloodline was pure, whose house was Slytherin, and who was doing something to help him wash away the shame of the Slytherin family.
There seemed to be no reason not to help him.
So, in just one night, Salazar answered many of Malfoy's questions, from...to... Some magical spells and potion recipes that had been lost a thousand years ago reappeared in Salazar's mouth.
Salazar began teaching at an extremely fast pace. He didn't have much time left, just like the last grains of sand in an hourglass, but he believed that this student would not let him down and would be worthy of the last moments of his life.
The sky outside gradually darkened and then gradually brightened again. Salazar's voice still maintained an extremely fast pace, but the volume had already begun to gradually decrease. Until the final stage, even the pace slowed down, becoming as faint as a breath.
"I really want to see how magic has developed now," Salazar said with some reluctance.
An old man in black robes, between solid and ethereal, appeared in front of Malfoy, floating in the air.
He was only wearing a hood, and his clothes were very simple, with several patches on them, ragged and tattered. His eyes were deep and dark, like a black hole, absorbing all the surrounding light. His face was covered with wrinkles, but you could still see the handsome demeanor of his youth.
There were no flashy decorations. For Slytherin, that profound power was the best crown.
"Alright, my friend is still waiting for me. I'm more than a thousand years late." As if in a final burst of energy, Salazar's deep voice sounded full of vigor, with some expectations.
"Thank you for showing me those two Muggle papers. Looking at it this way, perhaps I was wrong to some extent," Salazar said self-deprecatingly.
"Then, goodbye, little one." The faintly visible semi-transparent body disappeared into the air just like that. This was perhaps the last sentence in his life. There was no reluctance, no resentment, only a simple farewell to the person in front of him, and then he moved towards death.
Salazar's real body should have already decayed, right?
"Farewell," Malfoy had no other way to express his gratitude, so he could only stand up from the cold floor and bow to the void in front of him.
"Completing your last wish, perhaps that is the best way to repay you," Malfoy could only think to himself.
Unintentionally glancing out the window, the sun, which had not yet crossed the horizon, had already revealed a glimmer of dawn, and the faint light entered his eyes.
The collision of ideas stirred up a storm in Malfoy's mind. Even after a whole night, he didn't feel tired at all. On the contrary, he was now radiant, and many questions had been answered by Salazar, making him eager to verify them.
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