At nine o'clock in the morning after the engagement ceremony of Ryan and the others, two small cyan birds flew to the place where Ryan and the others lived, carrying parchment letters that were larger than them. At this time, they had sent their parents to the house last night.
Ryan, who was on the plane back to Qiantang, just got up from the bed.
"Hermione, the results of our previous O.W.LS exam are out." Ryan shouted to Hermione who was cleaning up in the bathroom.
"What? Oh, it's finally here. I hope I did well in the exam this time. The cross-border mail across Europe and Asia and the time it takes to go through customs are really annoying. If we were in the UK, I think we would have done it a week ago
You should have received these emails." Hermione walked out of the bathroom and wiped her wet face with a dry towel.
After eagerly tearing open the envelope, the two people took out the letter and read it. As expected, they got ten excellent scores in the exam, which meant that they could choose the courses they had planned to take this year.
"I just don't know how my friends are doing." Hermione nodded with satisfaction after reading the test results, and then asked Ryan. "What do you think Harry and the others are doing now?"
"I don't know much about other people, but I guess Harry must have a lot of things to do, after all, as a designated savior. The holidays will definitely not stop him from being busy. Maybe Professor Dumbledore will take him out on adventures
It's over." Ryan revealed.
This is also true. A week ago, Principal Dumbledore went to Privet Drive to rescue Harry from his uncle's house. After delivering Harry's luggage to the Burrow, Dumbledore took Harry and his entourage and appeared to a certain place.
In the courtyard of an abandoned village, there is an old war monument and several benches in the middle of the site.
After following Professor Dumbledore for a while and passing an empty tavern and several houses, Harry finally couldn't hold back his inner doubts and asked: "Well, Professor, where are we? And us.
What are you going to do?"
"This is the charming village of Barberton, Harry." Dumbledore walked ahead, turned a corner, and passed a telephone box and a bus shelter. "Well, as you can see
That way, we will be short of professors every year. So now we are here to persuade one of my retired colleagues to come back to work and return to Hogwarts. As for the reason for calling you here, you will know in a moment."
Afterwards, Harry and Dumbledore discussed his scar (Harry: "Thank God, it doesn't hurt anymore.") and also talked about the recent situation. For example, the sacrifice of Emmeline Vance and Amelia
Ya. Bones's serious injury (Dumbledore: "Ms. Bones was indeed lucky that day. When Voldemort was looking for her, she happened to meet Percy and his team visiting her, so she was lucky enough to survive, but she was probably poor.
Bones is spending Halloween at St. Mungo's.")
As they chatted, they approached a neat little stone house located in the garden. Dumbledore looked towards the carefully maintained path, his heart sank suddenly, and the hinge of the front door opened.
The door hangs crookedly.
"Harry, pull out your wand and follow me." Dumbledore took out his wand and whispered. At the same time, he glanced around to make sure there was no one around, lit the wand and walked quietly into the room. Harry also held it up nervously.
magic wand.
After walking along the porch into the living room, a mess appeared in front of them: a grandfather clock was broken at their feet, the clock face was cracked, and the pendulum lay a little further away, like an abandoned sword.
The piano was overturned on the ground, its keys scattered everywhere. Nearby there were sparkling fragments of a broken chandelier. The mats were scattered everywhere, shriveled, with feathers coming out of the cracks.
Broken glass and broken porcelain were scattered all over the floor like powder. To make matters worse, Harry, who was sharp-eyed, saw a lot of dark red sticky stuff splattered on the wallpaper. He followed the red stuff with his wand and found that
Even the ceiling is covered with these things.
Is this an attack? Harry thought, but after taking a closer look, he felt that something was wrong. He read several detective books during his break a while ago, and after Ryan read them, he read some bridges in them.
Duan's criticism was worthless, and he also talked about some of the simplest crime scene judgments. Based on what Ryan said before, Harry couldn't figure out why there were so few traces of footsteps on the floor if a fierce battle broke out in the room.
, just some broken furniture?
"You also see that something is wrong, right?" Dumbledore said calmly, looking at Harry in deep thought. "I think this is just, ah, a joke played on us by an old friend."
After saying that, with a relaxed and even increasingly naughty expression on his face, he quietly walked to the edge of a single sofa with Harry, and then suddenly poked the bulging chair of the single sofa with the tip of his wand.
Back, the head of a fat, bald old man suddenly popped out from the top of the back of the chair, shouting in pain: "Merlin's beard!"
Soon the single sofa turned into a fat old man standing there, rubbing his belly with his hands: "You don't need to prick him so hard with the wand, Albus. It hurts me so much. It still hurts me."
Yes, where did I reveal my secret?"
"Horace, if the Death Eaters really came, they would definitely leave the Dark Mark over the house." Dumbledore said, "By the way, I'll introduce you to Harry, come and meet me.
An old friend and colleague, Professor Horace Slughorn."
"I know him, Harry Potter." The old man said, looking at Harry's forehead. "The recent newspapers are all full of his photos." As he said that, he walked to the door and locked it.
"Want me to clean it up for you?" Dumbledore asked politely.
"Please!" After saying that, the two old men faced each other and waved their wands in unison. The furniture jumped back to its original position one by one, the decorations returned to their original shape in mid-air, and the feathers went back into the cushions.
The fragments of the silver photo frame were reassembled into photo frames and flew back to the desk, and the chandelier finally returned to the roof. The damaged and stained areas of the entire house were restored to their original appearance. Under the re-lit lights, the house suddenly became
The child became warmer.
"You think he can convince me, don't you? I tell you, Albus, the answer is no!" Slughorn said, "There is no denying the fact that I am an old man, Albus. A tired man.
The old man has the right to live a quiet life and get some material enjoyment."
"A life of hiding?" Dumbledore revealed, "I think they are looking for you too."
"Yes, I have to move every few weeks, but Albus, look at the casualty rate of professors in your school, are you leaving?" Looking at Professor Dumbledore who stood up, Slugho said
En immediately asked expectantly.
"No, I just want to ask if I can use your bathroom." Dumbledore said. Watching Dumbledore walk away, Slughorn said to Harry, who was watching him: "You look very good.
Like your father, except for your eyes."
"I know, like my mother." Harry nodded. He had heard this so many times that he felt a little tired of it.
"Lily Evans is one of the smartest students I have ever taught." Slughorn seemed to be lost in memories, "If you consider that she is also a Muggle, it is even more amazing. I
I often say that she should be a student of our college, but I always get an unceremonious answer from her."
"You are" "I was the dean of Slytherin House at the time." He glanced at Harry. "Don't look at me with that look. I'm not the kind of prejudiced person. I read newspapers in the past two years.
I discovered that your two classmates who won the Order of Merlin should be Muggle-born wizards. It was the same back then, and many of my favorite students were Muggle-born, such as your mother, and Dirk, who is one level below her.
Cresswell is now the director of the Goblin Liaison Office."
At this point, Slughorn became excited and pulled Harry to look at the photo frames piled high on his cabinet: "These are all students I have taught before, such as the editor-in-chief of the Daily Prophet.
Barnabas Guffey, who often sends owls to me to listen to my opinions on the current situation. Ambrosio Froome, who got a job because of my introduction, now visits me every once in a while.
Send me candies. Or this one, Gwenog Jones, captain of the Holyhead Harpies. I can get free tickets anytime I want. It's a pity that I haven't gone to see it for a long time."
The old man looked a little depressed: "I haven't contacted any of them for a whole year. This feeling of being forgotten by the whole world is simply terrible."