Where did Dumbledore go?
What was he doing?
In the next few weeks, Harry only saw the headmaster twice.
Because he rarely showed up at mealtimes, it seemed that Hermione was right about the headmaster leaving for days at a time.
Could it be that Dumbledore forgot that he was supposed to give him private lessons?
Dumbledore said that those lessons were ultimately related to the prophecy.
Harry used to feel encouraged and secure, but now he felt a little abandoned.
In the middle of October, they went to Hogsmeade for the first time this semester.
As the security around the school was getting tighter, Harry thought that they would not be allowed to go to Hogsmeade.
Now that he knew that he still had to go, he was very happy.
Leaving the castle for a breather, even if it was only for a few hours, was pleasant.
On the morning of the trip to Hogsmeade, there was a strong wind outside. Harry woke up very early, and he flipped through the book "Advanced Magic Potion Crafting" to kill time before breakfast.
Of course, he usually did not read textbooks in bed. On this point, Ron was right. Apart from Hermione, this kind of behavior would be unsightly on anyone else, and Hermione just seemed a little weird doing it.
But Harry felt that the "Advanced Magic Potion Crafting" book could not be considered a textbook at all.
The more Harry studied the book, the more he felt that there was a lot of content in it.
Not only were there easy to use tips and shortcuts – it was these that won Harry Slughorn's warm praise.
Furthermore, there were many creative little curses and spells in the blank spaces of the book.
From the scribbles, Harry felt that these things were invented by the prince himself.
"Actually, you are a very smart Wizard. Until now, I still don't understand why you chose to join the Death Eaters after graduation. If you didn't join their team, you could still be a very famous person now."
"Becoming a Death Eater … was a wrong decision I made back then. I was still very young when I made this decision, and at that time, being Voldemort's subordinate wasn't a very shameful thing. In a pure-blood wizard family, it was a very fulfilling thing."
Since there was nothing going on that night, Jon chose to drink some tea with Snape and talk about the past. After all, he was actually quite curious as to why Snape became a Death Eater.
"But you're not a pureblood Wizard, and you have a deep grudge with some pureblood Wizards. Or is it because of this grudge that you chose to join Voldemort's team?"
"Actually, I don't know either. Do I really hate Potter that much? This is a puzzle.
If he was still alive, I might have an answer. But he is dead, and so is Lily. I have always regretted that I didn't see him one last time before I died. But this matter can't be solved with regret.
Dumbledore can be resurrected after death, but Lily is just a Wizard born in the Muggle family. Although she married into the Potter family, she doesn't have such a deep background and powerful strength, not to mention that she used a spell on the level of the Sacrifice Curse … There are many times when I wonder, is it really worth it for a child? "
"Of course it's worth it. Why is there a picture of your mother on your table?
For the sake of a child, a mother can do many things, even if it means sacrificing her own life. I have never doubted this point. "
"Yes, a mother can always do many things. Unfortunately, she chose the wrong man. If she had chosen …"
"Of course she wouldn't have chosen you. You just feel that the two of you have a past relationship, so she should like you. But in this world, how can there be such a good thing?
Humans always want to see what they want to see, but often overlook the things that they don't want to see. "
"Yes."
"Speaking of which, do you know about that matter?"
Jon asked tentatively.
"Are you talking about Dumbledore's arrangement for Harry?
I do know, but what's the use of knowing?
I couldn't save his mother back then, and now I can't change his fate. "
"Don't worry, as time goes by, everything will return to the right track. You have to protect yourself. I'm still waiting for you to become the principal of my university."
"Is that so? I will do my best. "
Snape put down his teacup and stood up.
"Speaking of which, recently our boy has been learning the magic spells that I left behind. Are you sure you don't want to interfere? These magic spells can't be considered good ones. "
"Our boy has already grown up and needs to learn how to face this world himself. It's good for him to learn some tricks in advance."
Hearing Jon's reply, Snape turned back and asked him one last question.
"Do you still know how to save people?"
"What?"
"I mean do you still know how to save people? Just like how you saved Sirius, and then come down to save the people who died after? "
"I don't think so, unless there's a real need."
Jon drank the last bit of tea in his cup and said calmly.
"When I save people, it's always because I have regrets in my heart. However, these regrets will always disappear with time. In fact, I don't have such a strong feeling of regret anymore. Whether those people die or not doesn't have much to do with me. I'm starting to not care too much."
"Yes, time will make these things disappear." Snape snorted. "Welcome, you've finally come to the real world."
…
…
Harry had already tried a few of the magic spells that the Prince had invented in these two days.
One of them was to make people's toes grow crazily. He secretly experimented with Crabbe in the corridor and the effect was very interesting.
Another magic spell was to stick a person's tongue to the roof of their mouth. The effect of this magic spell was tested on Filch. At that time, Filch did not try to resist, so he did not notice the existence of this magic spell. However, when he told Jon about this, he reacted. Harry had already gotten the result he wanted, so Jon did not do anything else.
Then, among those magic spells, the most useful one was the Earplugs Magic Spell. This magic spell would fill the ears of everyone around with an indiscernible buzzing sound. This way, they would be able to chat freely in class without fear of being overheard. Jon was very interested in this magic spell, because he had always thought that this magic spell was a normal magic spell that had been passed down from generation to generation. He had neglected the fact that this magic spell was originally created by Snape.
After all, he had only used the Earplugs Magic Spell once on the train back to Hogwarts. After that, he had not used this magic spell again. The appearance of force fields had replaced most of his concealment spells. Compared to waving a wand to cast a spell, who would not prefer a force field that was fast and convenient and could be maintained at all times?
On Harry's side, the only one who did not find these spells fun was Hermione. When Harry used these spells, she kept a straight face and looked disapproving.
If Harry cast the Earplugs Magic Spell on someone nearby, she would not say a word.
This was because she did not need to use these spells at all. To be honest, her intelligence was not much worse than Snape's, and if she wanted to, she could totally create some spells herself. It was just a matter of time. Therefore, this might take a long time, and under these circumstances, she did not have the time to spend on such things.
But even so, she could still ignore it.
But Harry was different.
Both Harry and Ron were not smart people. This could be seen from their grades. They did not have the brains. If Hermione was a pure-blooded Wizard, the little Wizard, then perhaps the result would be different.
Back in the dormitory.
Harry sat on the bed, turned the textbook sideways, and carefully studied a spell written in the scribbled handwriting. The Prince seemed to have spent a lot of effort on this spell.
After countless scribbles and edits, in the corner of the page, a few words were finally squeezed together to form the words, "○"
Fuchsia (Soundless).
The strong wind mixed with sleet hit the window mercilessly. Neville was snoring loudly, and Harry stared at the two words in brackets.
Soundless … It must be a Soundless Spell.
Harry did not know if he could successfully practice this special spell, because it seemed to be a little difficult.
He was still not comfortable with the Soundless Spell, and Snape often made irresponsible remarks about it in the Defense Against the Dark Arts class.
In fact, the Prince taught Harry much more than Snape.
Harry pointed at a random place with his wand and shook it lightly. In his mind, he chanted: Fuchsia!
"Ahhhhhhh!"
A strong light flashed, and the room was a mess.
Ron let out a scream, waking everyone up. Harry threw away Advanced Magic Potion Making in a panic.
Ron hung upside down in the air, as if there was an invisible hook hooked around his ankle, hanging him upside down.
"Sorry!"
Harry shouted. Dean and Seamus burst out laughing. Neville, who had just fallen to the ground, was now slowly getting up. "Wait — I'll put you down —"
He felt for the Potion Book, and frantically flipped through the pages.
At last he found it. Under the spell, he made out a few words that were squeezed together: Harry prayed that this was the spell to break it. Then he concentrated and chanted in his mind: Fuchsia!
Another strong light flashed, and Ron fell on the bed in a heap.
"Sorry."
Harry whispered again. Dean and Seamus were still laughing.
"I hope you set the alarm tomorrow. If you do this a few more times, I'll be dropped to my death."
They dressed, put on some of Mrs. Weasley's sweaters, and grabbed cloaks, scarves, and gloves.
Ron had recovered from the scare and thought Harry's new spell was very funny.
In fact, he thought it was so funny that he couldn't wait to tell Hermione about it as soon as they sat down for breakfast.
"… and then there was another flash of light, and I fell back on the bed!"
Ron said with a smile as he started to get himself a sausage.
Hermione listened, but there was no smile on her face. She turned to Harry disapprovingly with a cold face.
She had been expressionless lately, because Jon had told her that a good politician should be someone who didn't show his emotions, and who didn't want people to know what was on his mind. It was better to keep a straight face than to keep a cold expression.
Because some people are born with facial paralysis.
However, she still couldn't bring herself to do that in front of this group of people she was familiar with. She still needed to temper herself.
But it was starting now. If necessary, she could still put on the appropriate disguise and emotion. For example, she was supposed to be angry, so she could show it.
"Perhaps, this incantation is from that potion book of yours?"
Harry frowned at her.
"You always jump to the worst conclusions, don't you?"
"Is it or isn't it?"
"Well … yes, so what if it is?"
"You actually decided to experiment with a strange handwritten spell to see what would happen?"
"So what if it was handwritten?"
Harry deliberately avoided answering the other questions.
"Because it might be banned by the Ministry of Magic."
She saw Harry and Ron roll their eyes and said, "And because I'm beginning to think this guy called Prince is a bit unreliable."
Harry and Ron shouted at her to stop at the same time.
"It was just a joke!"
Ron turned a bottle of ketchup upside down on his sausage and said, "It was just a joke, Hermione. It's no big deal. Please don't make such a fuss!"
"Hook around the ankle and hang people upside down?" Hermione asked. "Who would spend time and energy making up a spell like that?"
"Fred and George," Ron said, shrugging his shoulders. "They just love to do that stuff.
And, um — "
"My father," Harry said.
Harry said, to the surprise of his friends.
But in fact, he was also quite surprised. He had just thought of this matter.
"What?"
Ron and Hermione asked at the same time.
"My father used that spell."
Harry said, "I — Lupin told me."
That last part was not the truth.
In fact, Harry had seen his father cast the spell on Snape with his own eyes, but he had never told Ron and Hermione about his experience in the meditation basin.
But now, he suddenly thought of a very strange possibility.
Could the Half-Blood Prince be —?
"Maybe your father used it, Harry," Hermione said. "But he's not the only one who used it.
We saw a bunch of people use it. Maybe you've forgotten.
Hang people in the air and let them float in a daze and powerless manner. "
Harry stared at her blankly. He also remembered what the Death Eaters had done at the Quidditch World Cup and his heart sank. Ron came out to help him out.
"That's different," he said casually. "They were abusing the spell. Harry and his father were just fooling around. Hermione, you don't like Prince, "he said sternly, pointing at Hermione with the sausage." It's because he learned Potions better than you — "
"It has nothing to do with that!" Hermione said, her cheeks suddenly turning red. "I just think that it's very irresponsible to use a type of magic when you don't know what it's used for. Also, stop calling him 'Prince' as if it's his title. I dare say it's just a stupid nickname. And he doesn't give me the feeling that he's a decent person! "
"I don't know where you got that impression from," Harry said excitedly. Harry said excitedly. "If he's an underage Death Eater, he wouldn't keep saying that he's a 'mixed blood', would he?"
Harry said that, but he remembered that his father was a pure-blood. But he pushed the thought away and thought about it later …
"Death Eaters … can't all be pure-blooded. There aren't many pure-blooded Wizard left."
Hermione said stubbornly, "I guess most of them are half-blooded, but pretend that they're pure-blooded.
What they hate is only people from Muggle's family, so they must be willing to let you and Ron join them. "
"Don't even think about making me a Death Eater!"
Ron said angrily, waving the fork in his hand at Hermione. As a result, a small piece of sausage on the fork flew out and hit Ernie McMillan's head. "Our whole family betrayed our own bloodline! In the eyes of the Death Eaters, this is as bad as Muggle's family background! "
But in fact, his anger was unreasonable. Hermione glanced at him and felt that Ron was still young. She suddenly remembered what Jon had said to her. There was no need to rush matters of the heart, so this matter could be put off for a while.
She could still observe for a while. After all, everyone was very young now.
There was no need to be tied to a person so early, right?
However, the slow-witted ones didn't notice that in this short period of time, the young lady beside him had undergone a huge change in attitude.
If he had known, would he have regretted his foolish actions?
Perhaps, there was a small chance that he would.
As for the remaining nine thousand nine hundred and ninety-nine percent, Hermione was well aware of the answer.
"But I feel that the Death Eaters will very likely want me." In terms of understanding emotions, at least Harry was better than Ron. Although he spoke in a sarcastic tone, he was indeed trying to ease the atmosphere. "If they didn't always want to kill me, maybe we would have become very good brothers now, right? These things are always hard to say. Take Snape for example. Although everyone thinks that he's not very popular, I think that if he's kinder to us, there should be people willing to make friends with him."
"I don't think Snape will be happy to hear this. Also," Hermione looked around cautiously. "If he hears this, you'll be grounded again."
"Who's going to be grounded?"
Ginny's head popped out from behind them with a puzzled look on her face.
"No, no one, we're just joking."
Hermione explained, but because of her expression, this explanation seemed to be a little weak.
Fortunately, Ginny didn't care about this. She was here to deliver a letter.
"Oh, Harry, this is for you."
It was a scroll of parchment. On it was the familiar long, thin, crooked handwriting with Harry's name written on it.
"Thank you, Ginny … Dumbledore is going to give me a lesson again!"
Harry said to Ron and Hermione as he unfolded the parchment and quickly scanned the contents.
"Monday night!"
Hermione looked at his expression. At least from his expression, she could tell that Harry was very happy and relaxed now, not as worried as before.
Even his attitude and tone when he spoke to Jenny were a lot more relaxed.
"Oh right, are you going to Hogsmeade with us, Ginny?"
"No, I'm going with Dean — maybe I'll see you there."
With that, she waved at them and turned to leave.
Today, Filch was standing at the oak gate as usual, checking the names of the students who were allowed to go to Hogsmeade one by one.
The time was longer than usual, for Filch was running his detector over and over again on each of them.
"What does it matter if we smuggle out a black magic item?"
Ron stared uneasily at the long and thin detector and asked, "I'm afraid you're going to check what we bring in, right?"
He spoke rudely and was poked a few extra times by the detector. When they walked out into the wind and snow, he was still grimacing in pain.
"Why do you have to make things difficult for Filch? What good does it do you to anger him? "
It seemed that today was not going well. From the moment they met Filch, they were very uncomfortable walking to Hogsmeade.
First of all, because of the cold weather, Hermione followed Harry's example and wrapped her face with a scarf, but the exposed parts were soon frozen to pain and numbness.
On the road to the entrance of the village, there were students everywhere bending over against the wind.
This made the trio wonder, more than once, if they had stayed in the warm common room in such terrible weather, they would have been happier.
When they finally reached Hogsmeade, they saw that Joko's Joke Shop was boarded up, which Harry thought was more proof that this trip was doomed to be boring.
Ron gestured with a heavy-gloved hand to the Bee Dukes Candy Shop, which was disconcertingly still open, and both Harry and Hermione staggered after Ron toward the crowded shop.
"Thank God," Ron said, shivering as the warm smell of butterscotch filled the air. "Let's stay here for the afternoon."
But things always went against their wishes. When the three of them turned around, they saw Professor Slughorn. He was wearing a huge plush hat and a coat with a matching plush collar. He was holding a large bag of pineapple preserves in his hand. He took up at least a quarter of the space in the shop.
"Harry, you've missed three of my little dinners!"
Slughorn poked Harry affectionately in the chest. "That won't do, boy. I'm determined to have you come. Miss Granger likes these parties, doesn't she? "
"Yes."
Hermione didn't really like them, but she could only say helplessly, "They do —"
"Why don't you come, then, Harry?" Slughorn demanded.
"I'm going to Quidditch training, Professor."
Indeed, every time Slughorn brought him a small invitation with a purple ribbon, he deliberately arranged for the team to train.
This strategy ensured that Ron would not be left alone, and they often joined Ginny in imagining Hermione locked up with McClagan and Shabini, and laughed heartily.
"Well, if you train so hard, you're sure to win your first game!"
Said Slughorn. "But there's no harm in having a little fun now and then.
Well, how about Monday night? You can't train in this weather — "
"No, Professor, I — I have an appointment with Professor Dumbledore that night."
"Bad luck again!"
Exclaimed Professor Slughorn exaggeratedly. "Oh, well … you can't avoid me forever, Harry!"
He waved his hand and swaggered out of the shop, not noticing Ron, as if he were nothing more than a cockroach pile on display in the shop.
"I can't believe you've dodged me again."
Hermione shook her head. "Actually, the party wasn't so bad … sometimes it was quite fun … if you …"
She suddenly saw the expression on Ron's face and, being gentle to a friend, immediately changed the subject. "Oh, look — they've got fancy lollipop quills — you can suck on them for hours!"
Harry was glad that Hermione had changed the subject. He pretended to be particularly interested in the new super-sized lollipop quills, but Ron still looked glum, and when Hermione asked him where he wanted to go next, he just shrugged his shoulders.
"Let's go to the Three Brooms," said Harry. "It'll be warm there."
They wrapped their scarves around their faces again and left the shop.
They had just come out of the warm and sweet Duke Bee's shop, and the biting cold wind was like knives on their faces.
The streets were quieter, and no one stopped to chat. Everyone was hurrying along, heading where they wanted to go.
The only exceptions were the two men in front of them, who were standing just outside the Three Brooms. One of them was very tall and thin. Harry looked at them, squinted, and saw through his rain-soaked spectacles that he was the barman from the Pig's Head, another pub in Hogsmeade.
As Harry, Ron, and Hermione approached, the barman wrapped his cloak tight around his neck and turned away, leaving the short man fumbling for something in his arms.
They were within a step of the man when Harry suddenly recognized him.
"Mundungus!"
The man with messy ginger long hair was startled. A small antique suitcase in his arms fell to the ground and bounced open. There were all kinds of things inside. It was like the contents of an antique shop's display window.
"Oh, hello, Harry," said Mundungus Fletch, trying to be very brisk, but not at all convincing. "Don't let me keep you."
He crouched down and groped for the things in the suitcase, looking eager to get away.
"Are you selling these things?"
Asked Harry, watching Mundungus pick up a heap of assorted, ragged objects from the floor.
"Well, I can't help it. Have to keep me alive somehow."
Mundungus pointed to something on the floor. "Give me that!"
Ron was crouching down to pick up a piece of silver.
"Wait a minute."
"This looks familiar —" said Ron slowly.
"Thank you!"
Said Mundungus, snatching the goblet from Ron and stuffing it into the suitcase. "Well, I'll see you later — Ouch!"
Harry grabbed Mundungus by the neck and pinned him against the wall outside the bar.
He squeezed him tightly with one hand and pulled out his wand with the other.
"Harry!"
"You stole that from Sirius's house," said Harry, almost nose to nose with Mundungus, smelling the stench of tobacco and liquor. "It's got the Black coat of arms on it."
Mundungus stammered, his face slowly turning the colour of a pig's liver.
"What did you do?
On the night of his death, you went and ransacked that place? "
Harry was furious. Even Hermione clenched her wand tightly. This kind of behavior was simply too infuriating. What was this? It was disgusting to be around such rubbish.
But the reason she clenched her wand was that she had to be on guard against Harry killing Mundungus.
"Harry, you can't kill him. Don't be so impulsive. If you kill him, you'll be arrested by the Ministry of Magic!"
Said Hermione, and it looked as if Mundungus's face had turned blue.
Suddenly, there was a loud bang, and Harry felt his hands spring away from Mundungus's neck.
Mundungus gasped for breath, grabbed the suitcase that had fallen to the ground, and then, with a bang, Phantom Shift.
Harry cursed at the top of his voice and spun around to see where Mundungus had gone.
"It's no use, Harry."
Tonks suddenly appeared out of nowhere. Her grayish-brown hair was wet from the rain and snow.
"Mundungus is probably in London by now. It's no use shouting."
"He stole from the Sirius Star! He stole! "
"Yes, but …"
Tonks seemed to be completely indifferent to the news and looked cold. "You shouldn't stay here in the cold."
Hermione glanced at her and guessed that Tonks was someone who knew the inside story.
After all, Sirius was not dead, and according to the news from Jon, Sirius had given up the Black family house and left it to Harry, as well as everything inside.
Harry now felt that those things were left to him by Sirius, but in fact, Sirius wouldn't care much about such things. He wasn't short of money. The wealth that the Black family had accumulated for many generations was in his hands, and there was the vault. Why would he care about such things?
Tonks didn't know that Hermione already knew, and Hermione didn't want Tonks to know that she already knew, so she said nothing and followed Harry and Ron into the Three Brooms.
But as soon as Harry entered the bar, he shouted angrily, "He's stealing from Sirius!"
"I know, Harry, but please stop yelling. Everyone's looking at you."
Hermione whispered soothingly, "Go and sit down. I'll get you a drink."
She had no other choice. After all, she couldn't tell Harry that Sirius was not dead.
A few minutes later, Hermione returned to their table with three bottles of Butterbeer. Harry was still fuming.
"Can't the people in the society control Mundungus?"
Harry asked angrily in a low voice. Hermione and Ron could only listen, but they couldn't empathize with him. "Can't they control him a little when he's at headquarters?
At least don't let him steal everything he can! "
"Shh!"
Hermione said anxiously, looking around to see if anyone was eavesdropping.
The two wizards sitting nearby stared at Harry with great interest. Shabini leaned lazily against a pillar not far away.
"Well, Harry, I know you're angry. I understand. I'd be angry too. After all, we all know that he's stealing from you —"
Harry choked on the Butterbeer.
He forgot for a moment that he was the owner of No. 12 Grimmauld Place.
"Yes, it's my stuff!"
He snorted. "No wonder he's so guilty when he sees me!
Well, I'm going to tell Dumbledore about it. He's the only one Mundungus is afraid of. "
"Good idea." Hermione was obviously pleased to see Harry calm down at last, and had time to look the other way. "What are you staring at, Ron?"
"Nothing."
Ron said, hurriedly looking away from the bar. Harry knew that he was trying to attract the attention of the charming landlady, Lady Rosmerta, whom Ron had secretly liked for a long time.
"Is that so?
I suppose your 'nothing' is getting more Flaming Whiskey in the back? "
For some reason, Hermione suddenly uttered such a bitter remark that even she herself felt a little inappropriate after saying it.
However, Ron naturally ignored this taunt. He just drank his butter beer slowly without saying a word. Obviously, he thought that his style was very noble and profound.
Harry was thinking about Sirius again. He remembered how much Sirius hated the silver goblets.
Hermione tapped the table with her fingers and looked at Ron, then at the bar.
She suddenly felt that this kind of life was very boring.
Because of some kind of youthful emotion, she suddenly lost control of her emotions that she had practiced. If her teacher knew that she was like this, he would be very disappointed.
She suddenly remembered that Jon had said not to go to him for a while, but today she really did want to find someone to talk to.
So she began to quietly use magic on the notebook to send a message to Jon.
"Teacher, can I see you today?"
Jon happened to be free. He thought that Hermione should have something important to say. After all, he had just told Hermione not to look for him if there was nothing important.
Since it was an important matter, it was not impossible for them to meet.
You've already exceeded your reading limit for today. If you want to read more, please log in.
Login
Select text and click 'Report' to let us know about any bad translation.
