"I — — Not — — Okay — —"
Foggy huffed, looking around as if hoping someone would tell him what to do.
Seeing that no one was about to give him advice, he said: 'Very well - Terence! Williamson! Go down and take a look at the Department of Mystical Affairs. Dumbledore, you — tell me — what's going on with the Fountain of the Magic Brothers? "
He added in a complaining tone as he stared at the floor around him. The remains of the Wizard and centaur were scattered all over the floor.
"We can talk about this after I get Harry back to the Hogwarts."
"Harry — Harry Potter?"
Foggy turned to stare at Harry, who was still leaning against the wall beside the fallen statue that had protected Harry during the fight between Dumbledore and Voldemort.
"He — here?"
Foggy asked, glaring at Harry. "Why — what the devil is this?"
"I'll explain everything," said Dumbledore. "When Harry comes back to school."
He left the pool and walked up to the head of the Golden Wizard. He pointed his wand at it and muttered, "Mentos."
The head glowed blue and shook the floor loudly. After a few seconds, it was motionless again.
"Understood, Dumbledore!"
Dumbledore picked up the head and walked back to Harry with it. "You're not authorized to use the door key! You can't do that in front of the Ministry. You - you - "
Dumbledore gave Foggy an imperious look over his half-moon glasses, and he immediately stuttered.
"You will issue an order for Dolores Umbridge to leave Hogwarts."
Dumbledore said, "You have to tell your Auror to stop investigating my teacher of Mystical Biology and ask him to come back to work.
I want to give it to you. "
Dumbledore took out a watch with twelve hands from his pocket and glanced at it.
"Tonight, I can spare half an hour. I think we can talk about all the key issues that have happened here.
Then I have to go back to my school.
If you need more help from me, instead of coming to Hogwarts to look for me, you might as well write to me and indicate that it is addressed to the headmaster. "
Foggy's eyes had never stared so wide. His mouth was agape, and his round face was flushed under his disheveled gray-white hair.
"I — you —"
Dumbledore turned away and did not answer him again.
"Take this key, Harry."
He held out the head, and Harry laid his hand on it, not thinking of what to do next, or where to go.
"We should meet in half an hour."
Dumbledore said softly, "One, two, three."
Harry felt the familiar tug of a hook behind his navel.
The shiny wooden floor disappeared from under his feet. The hall, Foggy, and Dumbledore all disappeared. He was flying forward in a whirlwind of color and sound.
Harry's feet landed on solid ground. His knees bent slightly, and the head of the Golden Wizard fell to the floor with a reverberating thud.
He looked around and found himself in Dumbledore's office.
In the days since the headmaster left, everything here seemed to have repaired itself.
The exquisite silverware was once again placed on the slender table, puffing out smoke and rotating peacefully.
The portraits of the old headmasters and headmasters were dozing in the photos. Some of them leaned their heads lazily on the armchairs, while others leaned against the frames of the portraits.
Harry looked out the window. An elegant gray-green color hung on the horizon: dawn was coming slowly.
The office was quiet, and everything was motionless. Only the occasional snoring or snuffling of a sleeping portrait would break the silence of the office.
Harry could not bear this environment. If only everything around him could reflect his inner feelings, if only these portraits could cry out in pain.
He paced around the quiet, beautiful office, trying not to think about anything, but he had to. There was no escape.
The Sirius was dead. It was his fault. It was all his fault.
If only he hadn't been stupid enough to be fooled by Voldemort's tricks. If only he hadn't been so sure that what he saw in the dream was real. If only he had considered for a moment what Hermione had said, that Voldemort might be using his passion to play the hero.
It was unbearable. He didn't want to think about it. He couldn't bear it.
There was a terrible hole in his heart. It was in this dark hole that the Sirius had been and then disappeared. He didn't want to feel it, he didn't want to think about it. He didn't want to be alone in such a large and silent space. He couldn't stand it. A portrait snorted loudly behind him, and then said in a cold tone, "Ah. Harry Potter? "
Phineas Nigel yawned and stretched, looking at Harry with sly narrowed eyes.
"What are you doing here so early in the morning?"
Phineas said. "This office is off-limits except for the legitimate headmaster.
Did Dumbledore send you here? Oh, don't tell me … "He yawned again, trembling. "Is it another piece of news about my useless great-grandson?"
Phineas was obviously a good actor. Of course, it was also because someone was watching him from behind.
Jon was watching him from the invisible air.
To be more precise, he was watching everything.
After all, he came a little late, so he could only watch the finishing touches.
Dumbledore still hadn't shown up, but he should be here soon. Phineas knew their plan. The Sirius might not be in a good state now. He should have been sent to his wife by now. According to the attitude of the Sirius grandfather, the plan should have been perfectly realized, and he should be fine.
It was just that Harry looked a little more depressed than they had expected.
But this was normal.
After all, he was a child.
People who grew up without the company of family love, once they got a family love, it was very different to lose it again.
However, Jon was not in the mood to care about Harry's current mood. A person had to go through these things, and the shock would make people grow quickly in a difficult situation.
And even if he wanted to take care of Harry, it was Dumbledore's job.
Calculating the time, Dumbledore should be back for a while.
Jon frowned and left quietly.
He planned to look for Naughty Dog so that Dumbledore could come to him when he was done here.
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