"I like to take the subway, so I don't let my imagination run wild … Ouch." Dumbledore suddenly cried out in pain. Harry hurriedly lowered his head and noticed that Dumbledore's right hand, which was resting on his shoulder, was injured.
"It doesn't look very likable, does it?" Dumbledore moved the fingertips of his four fingers that seemed to have been scorched or corroded by the dark, except for his thumb. Dumbledore murmured, "To be honest, this is a rather thrilling story. I thought that Tom would be more powerful than I thought at that age. "
"Lord Voldemort?" Harry studied Dumbledore's expression, but the other party didn't seem to have any intention of explaining. In order to avoid awkwardness, Harry continued, "By the way, Dumbledore, Arthur? Mr. Weasley also invited Allen to the Burrow this year, and Allen agreed. That's really rare, you know, he hasn't been there for the summer holidays for several years. "
Dumbledore turned his head to look at Harry and smiled. "Arthur didn't tell me about this. Why did he invite Professor Harris over as a guest?"
"Because back then, when Arthur Weasley was helping Mr. Weasley? It was Allen who brought Ron, George, Fred, and Ginny to see him when he was hospitalized while protecting the prophecy sphere. Plus, the twins' joke shop in Diagon Alley was also invested in by Allen, so after Mr. Weasley recovered, he wanted to invite Allen over as a guest. " Harry muttered to himself. He was a little hesitant about whether he should voice his doubts, but in the end, he bravely asked, "Dumbledore, why didn't you have Fox teleport us over? That way, we would have been notified when Mrs. Weasley sent us a letter, and we wouldn't have known a few seconds after Mr. Weasley was attacked. Also, the former principal of the Hogwarts, Darius, has St. Vincent's name in the principal's office. Devint also has her portrait in St. Mungo Hospital. Mr. Arthur also has a portrait in the Ministry of Magic and the principal's office. Principal Evra was the first to discover it. Why can't you say that they informed us? "
"I'm sorry, Harry. That was my fault. At that time, I was thinking about how to deal with other things and neglected these methods. Like I told you before, the things I did and didn't do all have the shortcomings of an old person. Young people don't know how old people think, and don't know how they feel. But if old people forget what it was like when they were young, then it's a big mistake … I'll try my best to consider this point in the future. " Dumbledore looked at Harry over his half-moon glasses, trying to hide his worry about Alan's behavior. "But now is not the time to tell stories. Take my arm. Do as I say. "
Harry grabbed Dumbledore's forearm.
"Very good," Dumbledore said. "Okay, let's go."
Harry could not help but cry out when he felt the sudden pressure, and he felt darkness swirling around him. When he stopped again, he and Dumbledore were in the yard of what looked like an abandoned village. There was an old war memorial in the middle of the yard and several benches.
"Welcome to the beautiful Bardeley? Barberton Village. " Dumbledore's kind voice sounded, and Harry hurried to keep up with Dumbledore's footsteps.
"Harry, I guess you're wondering why I brought you here, right?" Dumbledore asked.
"To be honest, after so many years, I've almost given up." Harry shook his head and shrugged.
They passed through the deserted taverns and a few houses until they came to a neat little stone house in a garden. Dumbledore looked towards the well-maintained path, and his heart sank. The hinges of the front door were open, and the door hung askew.
"Harry, pull out your wand," Dumbledore whispered. "Flicker." The tip of Dumbledore's wand lit up, illuminating a narrow porch. He and Harry walked into the living room, holding their shining wands high. In front of them was a mess: an old clock had fallen at their feet, the face cracked, and the pendulum lay a little further away, like an abandoned sword. A piano lay overturned on the ground, the keys scattered everywhere. Nearby, the broken pieces of a broken chandelier glittered. The cushions were thrown all over the place. They were already deflated, and feathers were coming out of the cracks. Broken glass and porcelain were scattered all over the floor like powder.
"Horace?" Dumbledore called softly.
Harry saw the same Daily Prophet that he had seen before on the floor. One of them had a picture of him and Allen, with a big bold headline: "Who is the real savior?" Just then, a drop of red blood dripped down. Harry looked up and saw a large pool of blood on the ceiling. Harry's eyes widened in horror. He could not imagine how badly injured a person was to have blood splattered so high up on the wall.
Another drop of blood fell on Harry's forehead. Harry raised his hand to wipe it away, but Dumbledore was one step ahead of him. He dipped his middle finger in the blood on Harry's forehead and gently put it into his mouth. Then he looked at a bulging armchair on the ground.
Dumbledore's expression became relaxed, and he even looked a little naughty. He slowly approached the chair with Harry. Suddenly, Dumbledore stabbed the tip of his wand into the bulging back of the armchair. A fat, bald old man's head suddenly popped out from the top of the chair and cried out in pain, "Merlin's beard!"
In the blink of an eye, the armchair turned into a fat old man standing there with a big belly. He complained, "You didn't have to expose me, Abusi."
"I have to say, your armchair has become very successful, Horace." Dumbledore could not help but laugh.
The light from his wand shone on the man's bald head, bulging eyes, and thick double chin. It also shone on his striped light blue velvet pajamas. The top of his head only reached Dumbledore's chin.
"That's all on the surface. It's all natural. How did I expose myself?" he asked gruffly.
Dumbledore raised his wand and pointed behind him, "Dragon's blood."
"Oh, oh …" Horace? Slughorn suddenly understood.
"By the way, let me introduce you. Harry, come and meet my old friend and colleague, Horace Slughorn." "Professor Slughorn."
"I know who he is." The old man's round eyes looked at Harry's forehead and the lightning-shaped scar on it. "Harry? Potter? "
He walked to the door, leaned down, and carefully locked the door.
"Your room is decorated like a stage. What's going on, Horace?" Dumbledore asked. "Are you still waiting for other guests?"
Slughorn locked the door and turned around. "Guests? I don't know what you mean. Well, the Death Eaters have been trying to recruit me for more than a year. Do you know what kind of life that is? I can't refuse too many times, so I can't stay in any place for more than a week. "Slughorn frowned and said in a low voice.
Dumbledore asked curiously, "Why don't you go to the Ministry of Magic for help? You know, they've been doing a good job protecting the wizarding world recently. The situation is much better than the first wizard war."
"I've rejected Family Harris's Umbrella Corporation many times before …" Slughorn looked regretful. "How would I know if they could really drive Tom away … And you know, if they really want to catch me, I can't pin my hopes on that alarm … My situation is different from other wizards …"
"The owner of this Muggle went to the Canary Islands for a vacation." Slughorn then moved closer to Dumbledore and whispered in a very low voice, "Abusi, the recent speech by the director of the Ministry of Magic, and Allen? Harris and the president of the International Union of Wizards and Wizards, Babajid Akimoto? Akinba's bad relationship … You must know about their family background. Aren't you worried? "
"I think Harris just wants to use this opportunity to gain a good reputation, and he's succeeded. As long as they can maintain this, I'm happy to let my people support them. But Horace, thank you for your reminder. I'll keep an eye on things in the future. The current conflict between the British Ministry of Magic and the International Union of Wizards and Wizards is not a good thing … But now … "Dumbledore put his hand on Harry's shoulder and turned to look at the chaotic scene. He then suggested," I think we'd better clean up here. You don't mind, right? "
Letting go of Harry, Dumbledore drew a semicircle with his 15-inch long elderwood wand. The shattered silver picture frame that was scattered on the ground flew to the other side of the room and landed on a desk, becoming bright and new again. The chandelier returned to the top of the ceiling. The furniture jumped back to their original positions one by one, and the decorations returned to their original shapes in mid-air. Everything became neat and tidy. The room was torn and torn, and the places that were torn open were restored to their original state. The stains on the wall were automatically wiped clean, and the room became warm and comfortable.
The bright and tidy room made the three of them relax.
"That's interesting. Do you mind if I use the bathroom?" Dumbledore looked at Slughorn and asked, but Slughorn's eyes were fixed on Harry. "Of course not."
Dumbledore strode toward the bathroom.
"Don't think I don't know why you're here, Abusi. The answer is still no, absolutely no," Slughorn said fiercely. Slaghorn said fiercely. The wrinkles on his forehead were all raised. His tone was very firm. He shouted at Dumbledore's back. When he saw Harry looking at him, he smiled again. "You look a lot like your father."
Slughorn nodded to affirm his opinion. "Except for the eyes, it's very similar …" Slughorn's tone was a little sad.
"My mother's eyes, I know," Harry quickly said. Harry had heard this countless times and was a little tired of it.
"Lily, the clever Lily, your mother is very clever." Slughorn seemed to be reminiscing. "If you consider that she was born as a Muggle, it's even more amazing."
"Not counting Allen, the most outstanding witch in our grade was born as a Muggle," Harry said.
"Please don't think that I'm biased. No, absolutely not." Slughorn seemed to be afraid that Harry would misunderstand and quickly approached Harry. "Your mother is definitely one of my favorite students. Look, she's over there." He pointed at the many shiny picture frames on the cabinet, each of which had a wizard in action.
"Front row," Slughorn added.
"They're all my former students. Do you recognize Barnabas? Guffey, he's the editor-in-chief of the Daily Prophet. " Slughorn and Harry walked to the cabinet. Slughorn's tone of introduction of the wizards in the pictures was like an enthusiastic collector introducing his beloved collection to a guest. "If you have any opinions on the news of the day, I can send an owl to send him a message. Gwenog? Jones, captain of the Holyhead Hobbits, an all-female Quidditch team in the British and Irish Quidditch League. I can get free tickets whenever I want. Of course, I haven't watched a game for a long time. "The smile on Slughorn's face suddenly disappeared, just like the blood stains on the wall.
"Oh, right, Regulus? Blake, you must be familiar with his brother Sirius. " Seeing that Harry picked up the pictures, Slughorn introduced, "Blake's whole family is from my academy, except for Sirius. Regulus is a very talented boy. I've been optimistic about him since he came. Of course, it would be perfect if the brothers were together. "
"Horace," Dumbledore walked back into the room and held up a Muggle magazine in his hand. "Do you mind if I take this?"
Harry, who didn't know how to respond, quickly walked to Dumbledore's side. Dumbledore held up the magazine and said to the surprised Slughorn, "I like these knitted styles."
"Of course, take it, but you're not leaving now, are you?" Slughorn looked uneasy and asked in surprise.
"It's a done deal, I know that. It's a pity. If I could persuade you to go back to Hogwarts with me, I would be honored. You and Potter are both hard to come by. Well, goodbye. "And with that, Dumbledore walked away without a moment's hesitation. Slughorn stood in the room, looking a little helpless. When Dumbledore and the others walked to the end of the garden path, they heard a shout behind them. "Okay, I agree."
Harry turned around and saw Slughorn standing at the door of the living room, gasping for breath. "I want the old Professor Mellus's office. My old one is like a toilet. I also want a raise. There are a lot of crazy things happening these days. "Slughorn kept raising his hand to express his strong demand.
"It is indeed a lot." Dumbledore whispered and walked out with Harry.
"Professor, what happened just now?" Harry asked as they walked on the empty street.
"You have talent, fame, power, and everything that Horace values. Professor Slughorn will want to take you in as his disciple. Harry, you will be the most dazzling of all his disciples. Don't be so unconfident, Harry. Allen's situation is different from others. You have your own shining points, and according to Allen's personality, he probably won't become Horace's disciple. He returned to Hogwarts because of you. For us, his return is also very important. " After Dumbledore explained to Harry, he seemed a little hesitant. "Then, Harry, will you be going to Allen's class next year?"
"I'm not 100% sure, but I think I might. Dumbledore, Allen said that magic doesn't differentiate between good and bad. If there is a need to use bad magic to protect and save people, then it is good magic. But if we use normal magic to do evil, then isn't it bad magic?" After hesitating for a while, Harry carefully replied to the greatest light wizard in a low voice. He did not mention that he had heard from Rita Skewers. He had heard that Dumbledore was proficient in black magic in his early years. Harry avoided this sensitive topic. He looked at the silent principal and asked anxiously, "Dumbledore … Did I disappoint you?"
"No, Harry. I won't take my anger out on you because of your choice. In fact, I'm very happy that you can think about these problems independently." Dumbledore comforted Harry and added, "The conflict between Allen and I stems from the difference in ideals. Child, I just think that if a few of us do well enough, then most people won't have to learn these dangerous spells themselves. Even I, in my early years, committed an irredeemable crime because I was addicted to them. So, I hope that it will be like what the Ministry of Magic is doing now. They do an excellent job of protecting wizards. Normal wizards will be safe without risking their lives to protect themselves. Harry, I don't want anyone to repeat my mistakes. I just want to protect others. As long as a few of us bear this burden, then most people won't have to bear it."
Harry was obviously relieved by Dumbledore's words. He solemnly promised Dumbledore, "Allen also hopes that I can think independently. Dumbledore, before I make the final decision, I'll think about this matter more carefully."
"That's the best, Harry. I'll take you back to the Burrow now." Dumbledore raised his arm.
"But professor, what about my luggage and Hedwig?" Harry quickly asked.
"They're waiting for you."
Harry put his hand on Dumbledore's arm. When he regained control of his body, he found that Dumbledore had disappeared. The splashing mud under his feet had soaked his trousers. He looked down at his trousers splashed with mud and could not help but whisper, "Didn't you say that you have to consider the feelings of the young people …?"
Harry lifted his feet and stepped out of the pool, shallow and deep.
The light in the Burrow in the distance was so bright and warm in the darkness. Harry looked at the Burrow and saw the figure of the girl he missed reflected in a window. She was sitting on the protruding bay window of the Burrow. Harry could not help but smile. The face of his sweetheart made him forget the mud on his legs.
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