"No matter how powerful a wizard is, there is a hard limit to how many times they can split their soul. Whether you look at Western magical theory or Eastern occult philosophy, the foundational understanding of the soul actually shares a lot of common ground."
"The East divides the soul into the 'Three Hun and Seven Po'—the spiritual and the corporeal souls. Here in the West, we generally divide it into the Spirit and the Soul. But both sides agree on one absolute rule: the core of the soul is the foundation. It cannot be shaken."
"However, the Po or the Spirit—the parts that carry human reason, emotion, and memory—those can be separated. Whether you're talking about the creation of mummies or voodoo dolls, it's always this specific part of the soul being harvested and used."
"But there is a limit to this separation. Across both Eastern and Western esoteric studies, the most heavily theorized absolute limit is seven. And judging by the sheer madness and ruthlessness Voldemort has displayed in the past, I'd wager he has pushed the splintering of his soul right to that absolute limit."
Viktor's analysis was like a surgical scalpel, slicing cleanly into the darkest, most evil core of Horcrux magic.
Dumbledore listened with intense focus. Behind his half-moon spectacles, his bright blue eyes gleamed with a heavy, piercing light.
It was as if Viktor's words were confirming dark suspicions he had harbored for a very long time.
"Your deduction regarding the absolute limit of soul-splitting is incredibly precise, Viktor," Dumbledore said slowly, his voice low and grave.
"Indeed. Whether it is the ancient Eastern metaphysics of the Hun and Po, or our Western magical classification of the soul's 'core' versus its 'spirit' or 'mind,' they all point to a singular consensus."
"The core imprint of the soul is the most fundamental, resilient, and unshakeable part of life. It carries the essential 'you,' but not what we typically understand as emotion, memory, and reason."
He paced a step forward, his gaze seemingly piercing through the cluttered room and into the deepest depths of magical theory.
"Those elements that make up our personality, our memories, our magical talents, our emotional responses—what the East calls Po, and what we might broadly term the 'spiritual vessel.'"
"Compared to the core, they are far more 'active.' They are more susceptible to magical influence, and... far more likely to be separated, twisted, or even solidified by extreme, profane rituals."
Viktor picked up the thread, his tone carrying the cool detachment of a researcher mixed with a profound wariness of the Dark Arts.
"Exactly. The mummification rituals of Ancient Egypt aimed to 'retain' or 'guide' these spiritual vessels by preserving the body and organs. Combined with complex incantations, the hope was that the Pharaoh could maintain their worldly authority in the afterlife."
"African voodoo dolls, on the other hand, utilize bloody rituals and intense malice to violently tear away a piece of the victim's 'spirit'—usually their pain, terror, or rage—and seal it into a vessel for curses or mind control. Fundamentally, these are all crude manipulations of the soul's 'non-core' elements."
He paused, his gaze sweeping over the dimmed diadem in the crystal casket, then dropping to the limp, hollow-looking cat body Tom's soul had just vacated.
"And a Horcrux... is undoubtedly the absolute pinnacle of this dark art. It pushes this separation to the extreme. It doesn't just curse someone or prolong a blurry existence; it creates an independent, enduring, and highly autonomous 'backup' of the soul."
"Creating a Horcrux requires more than just masterful dark magic. The real key is... a completely ruthless will and an act extreme enough to tear the soul apart: cold-blooded murder."
"But this separation doesn't come without a price, and it certainly can't be done infinitely," Viktor's voice grew firmer.
"The integrity of the soul is protected by natural, mystic laws. Every time it is torn, it inflicts permanent damage to the whole. The more 'fragments' you split off, the more unstable the remaining master soul becomes. It trends closer and closer... to something inhuman."
"Emotions thin out. Reason slides into paranoia. Both physical appearance and magical aura suffer irreversible distortion. We've clearly seen all these signs in Voldemort."
He looked at Dumbledore. As their eyes met, they both recognized the exact same conclusion.
"And the number seven," Viktor continued.
"In countless magical cultures, seven is revered as a number of profound power and symbolism—especially in realms dealing with souls, cycles, and limits. It frequently represents a complete cycle within a 'whole,' or the natural upper limit of a given unit of existence."
"In soul magic, whether it's the Eastern concept of the 'Seven Po,' or the 'Seven Veils of the Spirit' theory vaguely referenced in nearly-lost European tomes... they all point to this."
"They all imply that there is a natural numerical limit—a definitive threshold—to how many times the 'separable' elements of our spiritual essence can be divided."
"Voldemort," Viktor said with icy certainty.
"Given his fanatical obsession with the Dark Arts and his desperate, extreme thirst for immortality... it is highly likely he would try to reach, or even break, that limit."
"His madness, his lack of emotion, his total apathy toward pain, and his increasingly inhuman appearance... it all suggests his soul structure is already riddled with holes from over-splitting, teetering on the brink of total collapse."
"I would boldly guess that the number of Horcruxes he created is... seven. Or, at the very least, infinitely close to that dangerous threshold."
"Seven..." Dumbledore repeated softly. The word felt heavy, dropping like a stone into the dusty air of the junk room.
He fell silent for a long time. His silver eyebrows knit tightly together as he digested the sheer, terrifying implications of that guess.
Seven.
That meant, aside from the Ravenclaw diadem sitting right in front of them...
There could be up to six more equally evil objects out there, each carrying a piece of Voldemort's soul and will, hidden somewhere in the world.
It meant that truly defeating Voldemort wouldn't just be a matter of beating his resurrected main body.
It would require a grueling, perilous treasure hunt to track down and destroy all seven of these "anchors."
Just thinking about the scale of the task was suffocating.
"Seven..." Dumbledore said again. This time, his voice carried a profound exhaustion, but it was quickly overshadowed by ironclad resolve.
"If your deduction is correct, then our path is far longer and more treacherous than we imagined. But at the same time... it gives us a clear goal. A lead."
His eyes sharpened as he looked back at Viktor.
Hearing Dumbledore validate his theory gave Viktor a jolt of energy. He pressed forward with his train of thought.
"If that's the case, let's assume he has split his soul close to, or exactly, seven times. Our search for the other Horcruxes can be narrowed down by analyzing the types of 'vessels' he would choose."
He gave his wand a flick, and spectral illusions of various magical artifacts materialized in the air.
"First, given his paranoid obsession with his own 'noble' bloodline and absolute power, ordinary objects would be completely beneath him."
"Ravenclaw's diadem—a relic of a Hogwarts Founder. That perfectly fits his criteria. So, what about the relics of the other Founders? That has to be a primary area of focus."
"Second," Viktor looked at Dumbledore, his tone slightly probing.
"My grandfather told me that the Deathly Hallows aren't just a fairy tale. They are real, immensely powerful magical artifacts with unparalleled symbolic weight."
"Grindelwald once possessed the Elder Wand. For someone like Voldemort, who chases power and immortality, an object like that would be just as tempting as a Founder's relic."
"Furthermore," Viktor's thoughts branched out, "beyond famous European artifacts... considering Voldemort traveled extensively through Europe and likely beyond, would he have coveted or collected powerful artifacts and totems from other magical civilizations?"
"Like an Egyptian Golden Scarab, Buddhist Śarīra relics from India, or ancient tribal totems from Africa..."
"These items are steeped in the faith and power of completely different magical systems. They might have satisfied the complex, evil ritual requirements needed to forge a Horcrux."
He summarized: "For leads on the Founders' relics, we can start digging through Hogwarts' archives and wizarding history."
"As for the Deathly Hallows and famous foreign artifacts, I can reach out to my grandfather and his network of contacts around the globe."
"Many of his old friends are magizoologists, explorers, or antiquarians. I can ask them to keep an eye out for any specific leads or unusual movements in the underground magical artifact trade."
Viktor finished, looking at Dumbledore with an expectant, searching gaze, waiting for his response.
Dumbledore was silent. He lowered his head slightly, the reflection on his half-moon spectacles hiding his blue eyes. His long fingers absentmindedly tapped a slow rhythm against the Elder Wand.
He seemed to be weighing something. Remembering. Hesitating over whether or not to lay bare some much deeper secrets. A subtle, heavy tension filled the room.
After a moment, Dumbledore looked up. His expression was a complex mix of approval, determination, and a faint, almost imperceptible... helplessness?
"Viktor," he began, his voice steady but carrying immense weight.
"Your analysis is outstanding. Your logic is clear, your perspective is broad, and your integration of Eastern and Western magical philosophies is highly impressive. Your deductions regarding the limits of soul-splitting and Voldemort's criteria for vessels are, in all likelihood, entirely correct."
He took a deep breath, as if finalizing a difficult decision.
"As for the potential 'vessels' you mentioned... there are a few things I can tell you right now."
Dumbledore's gaze swept over the diadem in the crystal casket, then seemed to drift toward a specific part of the castle.
"You mentioned the Founders' relics. The Sword of Gryffindor... has always been kept safely within Hogwarts, guarded by generations of Headmasters."
"I can say with absolute certainty that it is safe, and it has not been turned into a Horcrux." His tone left no room for doubt.
Viktor nodded. That was good news. One major suspect crossed off the list.
But Dumbledore's next words made Viktor's pupils dilate in shock.
"As for the Deathly Hallows... the Elder Wand, as you correctly noted, was indeed once wielded by Gellert Grindelwald. But eventually... it came to Hogwarts. It is currently in my possession."
Dumbledore spoke casually, as if mentioning what he had for breakfast.
"And the Invisibility Cloak... it is also here at Hogwarts, currently being properly utilized by a highly trustworthy student. I can guarantee that these two Deathly Hallows never fell into Voldemort's hands to be made into Horcruxes."
Viktor: "!!!"
He drew in a sharp breath, his eyes going wide as he stared at Dumbledore in sheer, unadulterated disbelief.
Are you kidding me?! He had just laid out a list of the most highly suspected, legendary targets, and Dumbledore casually crossed off half of them in two sentences!
The Sword of Gryffindor. The Elder Wand. The Invisibility Cloak.
Three top-tier, god-level artifacts were all just... chilling in Hogwarts?! And the Headmaster was completely casually confirming they were secure?!
Just how many terrifying, world-shaking treasures and secrets was this castle hiding? You'd never guess it just walking around!
Students spent all day roughhousing in the corridors and complaining about essays in the common rooms.
Who in their right mind would guess the Headmaster was keeping a Deathly Hallow in his office, or that Gryffindor's Sword was locked away in a secret vault?
Or, you know, that a lost Founder's relic had been sitting in this exact junk room, twisted into a piece of a Dark Lord's soul.
Wait... did that mean that stupid Slytherin kid he'd beat up the other day was telling the truth? Was there actually a "Chamber of Secrets" meant to purge the school? No way... right? But then again, if the literal Deathly Hallows from children's fairy tales were real, a legendary Chamber of Secrets didn't seem so far-fetched anymore. He was definitely going to have to look into that.
Seeing the absolute shock on Viktor's face—a look that practically screamed, I knew Hogwarts was crazy, but this is ridiculous!—Dumbledore's lips twitched upward into a microscopic smile, though it quickly faded back to solemnity.
"Therefore, following your logic, we can safely remove Gryffindor's Sword, the Elder Wand, and the Invisibility Cloak from our primary suspect list for now. That undoubtedly narrows our search parameters, which is excellent news," Dumbledore said. "However, the remaining possibilities are vast, and the situation remains grim."
His gaze turned sharp and heavy once more.
"The Ravenclaw diadem is here, proving Voldemort's obsession with Founder relics. So... are the relics of Slytherin and Hufflepuff truly lost to history, or... did they fall into his hands?"
"Furthermore, as you astutely pointed out, we must remain vigilant regarding globally significant artifacts of immense magical power or symbolic value."
"Viktor, please contact your grandfather and his associates. Asking them to investigate and keep their ears to the ground will be an invaluable resource."
"On my end, I will utilize certain... connections and resources of my own. I will look into classified Ministry archives, the private records of ancient families, and certain hidden channels."
He took two steps closer to Viktor, lowering his voice. It carried the tone of passing a momentous torch.
"The existence of these Horcruxes is the true secret to Voldemort's immortality. Finding and destroying them is the only way to defeat him permanently. The road ahead is destined to be long, grueling, and extraordinarily dangerous. But tonight's discovery has torn away the veil hiding his greatest secret. We finally have a direction."
Dumbledore looked down at the empty, hollow cat body lying amid the pile of suppression charms, vacated by Tom's soul.
He then looked at Tom's actual spectral soul hovering nearby, looking anxious but also a little smug, before finally meeting Viktor's eyes.
"Our immediate priority is to thoroughly deal with this diadem Horcrux and ensure Tom is completely safe. After that... we must formulate a meticulous, long-term plan. Not just to prepare for Voldemort's potential return, but to surgically eradicate these... 'tumors' he left behind."
Viktor shook off his lingering shock and nodded firmly.
Dumbledore had just dumped a massive amount of information on him, but it brought their goal into sharp focus.
With several major "danger zones" ruled out, the remaining targets were still murky, but it was infinitely better than searching blindly.
"I understand, Headmaster," Viktor said grimly. "I'll contact my grandfather as soon as possible. As for the diadem..." He glanced at the crystal casket.
"I believe we need to figure out how to handle Voldemort's remnant soul first before we study the artifact. Fortunately, since he actively abandoned the protection of the Horcrux, dealing with him now should be much easier."
"Indeed," Dumbledore agreed with a nod. He then surveyed the chaotic wreckage of the junk room. "And as for the Weasley brothers..."
He remembered the twins who had delivered the warning and stayed behind in Viktor's office. A look of helpless amusement crossed his face.
"They performed a great service tonight, but they also received quite a fright... and a significant shock. Perhaps we should consider how to 'properly' thank and soothe them, while simultaneously..."
A sly twinkle flashed in Dumbledore's blue eyes.
"...ensuring that in their excitement, they don't go exaggerating and broadcasting certain... sights they witnessed tonight, which might not be entirely suitable for public consumption."
Viktor immediately recalled the fanatical, hero-worshipping looks on the twins' faces when he had transformed into a Golden Snidget. Knowing them, they were probably already drafting a list of demands for "private tutoring." He felt a headache coming on, but it was heavily outweighed by his gratitude for their timely warning.
"Leave them to me, Headmaster," Viktor sighed. "I know exactly how to have a 'chat' with them."