<h4>Chapter 75: Harry who is grateful to Snape</h4>


    Riddle looked at the rusty diadem in front of him, sensing the same origin''s aura within it and feeling a surge of impulse from deep within his soul.


    A dark glint shed in his pure ck pupils, and an evil smile crept up his lips.


    In the next moment, Riddle abruptly extended his hand, mping the diadem tightly on his head. Simultaneously, he pressed it down with both hands, leaving no space for the diadem to escape.


    The diadem immediately sensed danger, and a powerful energy wave surged out, bombarding Riddle''s soul body wildly.


    At the same time, the position of the blue gemstone on the diadem began to flicker, and a bald little figure with crimson eyes burst forth from the gemstone, swiftly crashing into Riddle''s forehead.


    Riddle''s eyes instantly turned vacant.


    Dimly, crimson and ck light spots intertwined and tore at each other within Riddle''s eyes, as if two different souls were shing on a consciousness level, vying for control over one another.


    Riddle''s already phantom-like body kept fluctuating between reality and illusion, flickering repeatedly like an old ck-and-white TV barely disying a blurry image.


    As time passed, the crimson glow in Riddle''s eyes grew weaker and dimmer until it waspletely eradicated by the ck light spots—


    Riddle suddenly opened his eyes, emitting a chilling gleam.


    His body, at the same time, stopped flickering, bing extremely solid, almost indistinguishable from a normal human being to the naked eye!


    "You must be disappointed, my main soul," Riddle chuckled darkly. "I have no interest in seeking help from anyone. Because, like you, I only care about what I truly hold in my hands..."


    If Voldemort saw this scene, he would be incredulous and furious!


    For he would never have imagined that the Tom Riddle in the Horcrux diary would actively absorb the soul fragment from the diadem Horcrux, gaining more powerful soul power!


    Although Voldemort split a simrly sized soul fragment into both the diary and the diadem, the differencey in the diary holding a vast amount of his younger self''s memories, rich in magical theory, and imbued with his principles and personality...


    Thus, the Horcrux diary could utilize Voldemort''s soul fragment to give birth to a soul entity very simr to him, with aplete personality, rich magical knowledge, and, most importantly, the potential for growth!


    Over fifty years, the diary, influenced by all the wizards who approached it, had greatly grown in its application of soul power.


    So it took hardly any effort for it topletely annihte the weak soul fragment within the diadem and absorb its power, fully merging with it.


    The fusion of the two soul fragments made Riddle''s phantom body as solid as flesh and blood.


    And after absorbing the soul fragment from the diadem, the once rusty and dark diadem was discarded like trash on the crate.


    No more calls sounded from it, nor did it retain any aura rted to Riddle...


    However, strangely, the rust and dark stains on the diadem gradually disappeared after the soul fragment was absorbed, revealing its original color—


    Shining silver, pristine as if it were the most perfect essory in the world, untouched by the wear and tear of time.


    Yet, Riddle had no interest in appreciating this beauty.


    He frowned deeply, looking at the two moons hanging in the high windows, feeling downcast.


    Riddle knew that was a magic unique to Drac and understood the grandeur and power of that magic dark moon, so he had no intention of confronting Drac head-on.


    "Having Dumbledore at Hogwarts is one thing, but why is there also a Drac..." he muttered, fiddling with the diary absentmindedly.


    As he randomly flipped the diary to the title page, Riddle nced down and noticed that the page seemed sparse, as if a name was missing.


    His eyes flickered, and the name "Tom Marvolo Riddle" appeared on the nk title page.


    In the next moment, Riddle''s eyes widened—


    He had found a way toplete his task!


    ...


    Two dayster, on the fourth floor of Hogwarts Castle, in the school infirmary.


    Dumbledore was bargaining with Madam Pomfrey, the head nurse.


    "Albus, the patient needs rest!" Madam Pomfrey said sternly. "Mr. Potter has been through something, but his spirit is very weak, and he shouldn''t be disturbed."


    "Don''t worry, Poppy, I''ll just visit the young hero for a moment," Dumbledore said with a smile.


    "Alright, given that you''re the headmaster," Madam Pomfrey reluctantly agreed, but as Dumbledore entered the infirmary, she added, "Just this once!"


    Dumbledore walked straight to Harry''s bed, looking at his closed eyes and the traces of pain on his face, and thinking of his unfortunate background, he couldn''t help but feel touched.


    He sentimentally wiped the corner of his eye, sat on the chair beside the bed, and stared at the scar on Harry''s forehead, lost in thought.


    Just then, the tightly sealed window of the infirmary suddenly opened, and a silver-haired figure appeared on the windowsill, smiling at Dumbledore.


    "Professor Drac, you''d better close the window," Dumbledore said helplessly, looking at the figure on the windowsill. "Madam Pomfrey is very particr about the temperature in the infirmary. If she finds out you opened the window, she will be angry."


    He had given up any hope of getting Drac to follow the rules and just hoped this unconventional professor would at least close the window and not bring Madam Pomfrey over.


    "Alright." Drac shrugged, jumped down from the windowsill, and casually closed the window. "How is Potter doing?"


    "Thank you for your concern, Professor Drac," Dumbledore said. "Harry is stable for now, and he should wake up soon."


    "You might have misunderstood my meaning," Drac said, waving a hand. "I wasn''t concerned about the student; I was just curious about how Potter managed to burn Quirrell with his bare hands. I''ve lived a long time and haven''t seen such magic before."


    Dumbledore looked at Drac''s face, full of interest and devoid of any concern for the student, and couldn''t help but shake his head in exasperation.


    "Harry''s mother died to save him," he said softly. "And Voldemort, born from a love potion, will never understand love."


    "Wait a minute." Drac raised a hand, interrupting Dumbledore. "You''re not going to start with that bond theory again, are you? That rhetoric might fool kids like Potter, but you don''t need to use it on me."


    "But I''m serious, Professor Drac." Dumbledore adjusted his sses, looking directly at Drac. "Harry''s mother left him a protective charm of love, hidden deeply in his skin and blood. Because of this, Quirrell couldn''t touch Harry."


    "Quirrell had sold his soul to Voldemort, bing tainted with unicorn blood and cursed, a half-dead remnant. Such a broken soul, when touching a wizard with a protective charm of love, would be purified by that strong positive emotion."


    "So, ording to you, any powerful wizard could be killed by a weak person filled with love?" Drac snorted, unimpressed. "Headmaster, do you think that''s reasonable?"


    "Professor Drac, but love is inherently unreasonable." Dumbledore gently stroked his wand, lost in thought. "Love is the positive energy projected by the human spirit; it can make us achieve things we otherwise couldn''t."


    "Lily also used her love to gain the power to resist Voldemort..."


    Drac frowned, suddenly cing his hand on Harry''s neck, his fingertips extending sharp nails.


    Dumbledore was startled, quickly standing up. "What are you doing?"


    "Nothing much, calm down." Drac withdrew his hand, ncing at Dumbledore. "It was just a specific bloodline magic. I don''t understand why you had to make it soplicated."


    "From my observation, Potter''s mother, while sacrificing her life, concentrated a strong positive emotion and infused this power with specific bloodline magic into Potter''s bloodline. Hence, she gained the power to resist her killer."


    "A clever piece of magic, indeed allowing her the possibility of the weak oveing the strong," Drac said, looking somewhat covetously at Harry''s neck artery.


    If Dumbledore weren''t here, he would have taken some of Harry''s blood, which contained that unique bloodline magic...


    At that moment, Harry woke up.


    He stared nkly at Dumbledore for a moment, then suddenly shouted, "Sir! The Philosopher''s Stone! Voldemort left Quirrell''s body; he must have taken the stone!"


    "Don''t get excited, dear boy, what you''re saying is already outdated," Dumbledore said gently. "Voldemort did not get the stone."


    Harry was stunned for a moment, then suddenly remembered thest scene he saw before passing out—


    "I remember now! I saw Snapeing through the door!" he said gratefully. "Sir, did Snape... no, Professor Snape save me? He saved me twice!"