Chapter 1063

"Because you are with us..." "Oh, of course, it's mainly Dumbledore, but Harry, Dudley's end He didn't do anything to you. "

"Oh, of course." Harry nodded. "In fact, he's scared to death of me now."

"You're scared to death?" Fanlin was amused to think of Dudley's big face trembling.

"But what are you, I mean Dumbledore didn't tell me..."

"We're here to pick you up. Of course, there's something else to do." Van Lin said, "you'll know when you get there."

This makes Harry a little unconvinced. In his opinion, picking him up is the way?

Of course, if Dumbledore is still in his dying state, Harry didn't even have the concept of Horcrux.

But a few people talk, unknowingly came to the end of Privet Drive.

"Oh, by the way," Dumbledore seemed to have just remembered something. "You haven't passed your phantom development test, haven't you?" He said.

"Ah, yes," said Harry. "I think I have to be 17, right?"

"Yes," said Dumbledore. "So, you need to hold on to my arm, my left arm, if you don't mind."

Harry grabbed Dumbledore's outstretched forearm.

"Good," said Dumbledore. "Well, let's go."

Harry felt Dumbledore's hand breaking away from him, and he squeezed it again: then it was dark; something was pressing against him violently from all directions; he felt unable to breathe, as if bound to his chest by an iron band; his eyes were about to be squeezed into his head; his eardrum was pressed deep into his head, and then - he sucked deeply After a breath of cold night air, I opened my eyes full of tears. He felt as if he had just passed through an airtight rubber tube.

It was several seconds before he realized that Privet Drive was gone. Now he and Dumbledore and van Lin are standing in a deserted country square, in the middle of which stands an old war monument and some benches.

Harry's mind caught up with the feeling, and he realized that he had just made the first phantom in his life.

"Are you all right?" Dumbledore looked at him eagerly and asked, "this feeling really needs to get used to."

"I'm fine," Harry rubbed his ears, which seemed reluctant to leave Privet Drive. "But I think I prefer flying brooms."

"Oh, yes, but the phantom is more convenient." Van Lin said, "although it's not a good taste, but turn it into instinct, let the body remember..."

"Let the body remember, oh, I don't think I'd like to do that."

"Of course, I'll help you. This semester begins..." Van Lin said without caring.

Dumbledore laughed. He tightened his traveling cloak around his neck and said, "this way."

He walked briskly past an empty tavern and several houses, and it was midnight, according to the clock on a nearby church.

"Then tell me, Harry," said Dumbledore. "Your scar Have you ever had any pain? "

Harry subconsciously raised his hand and touched the lightning shaped mark on his forehead.

"No pain," he said. "I've always been surprised. Now that Voldemort is strong again, I thought my scar would continue to ache He took a furtive look at Dumbledore and found a satisfied expression on his face.

"I don't think so," said Dumbledore. "Voldemort finally realized how dangerous it was for you to invade his thoughts and feelings. It looks like he's blocking you. "

"Oh, that's nothing to complain about," said Harry, who did not want to remember the disturbing dreams or the frightened moment that entered Voldemort's mind. They turned a corner and passed a telephone booth and a bus stop. Harry looked at Dumbledore again. "Professor?"

"Harry?"

"Er - where are we going?"

"Harry, this is the charming village of Badley babelton."

"What are we doing here?"

"Ah, yes, of course, I haven't told you yet," said Dumbledore. "Well, I can't count how many times I've said in the past few years, but once again we're facing a shortage of teachers. We are here to persuade an old colleague of mine to come back to Hogwarts

"How can I help, professor?"

"Oh, I think you'll find your role," Dumbledore said vaguely. "Let's go."

They walked up a steep, narrow path with neat houses on both sides. All the windows are black. The strange chill of two weeks on Privet Drive continued here.

This reminds Harry of Dementors. He looks back and clenches the wand in his pocket."Professor, why don't we just phantom your old colleague's home?"

"Because it's as rude as kicking someone's door," Dumbledore said. "Etiquette requires us to offer our Wizard friends an opportunity to deny us access. In any case, most of the wizard's houses are protected by magic to deal with the uninvited visitors of the phantasm. For example, Hogwarts -- "

" - can't be visualized in Hogwarts buildings and venues, "Harry said immediately.

"Oh, yes, in fact, there is no problem. I believe that van Lin has a deep understanding." Dumbledore said, "but now, let's turn right first."

The church behind them rang midnight. Harry wondered why Dumbledore didn't find it rude to visit his old colleague so late, but now that he had started the conversation, he had more pressing questions to ask.

"Professor, I read in the prophet's Daily that fudge was dismissed..."

"Yes," said Dumbledore, turning into a steep lane. "He was replaced, as you know, by Rufus scriinger, the former head of Auror's office."

"Then he Do you think he's good? " Asked Harry.

"An interesting question," Dumbledore said. "In fact, his appointment does not have much influence on us, but in fact, some ideas of him and me, just like the newspaper said..."

He smiles at Harry, so Harry knows he doesn't mean to blame, and he can continue to ask questions. "Professor - I received a brochure from the Ministry of magic from the owl about the security measures we need to take against death eaters..."

"Yes, I got one myself," Dumbledore continued with a smile. "Do you think it's useful?"

"Not really."

"No, I don't think so. For example, you didn't ask me what kind of jam I like best to verify that I was Professor Dumbledore and not a fake. "

"I didn't..." Harry began to say that he was not entirely sure if Dumbledore was blaming himself. "Maybe in the future, Harry. My favorite flavor is raspberry But if I were a Death Eater, I would definitely look into what jam he love best before he disguised himself as Dumbledore.

"Er Yes, "said Harry. "Well, that letter said something about Yin corpses. What exactly are they? What have we seen..."? That brochure doesn't make sense either

"Oh, yes, the ones I saw on the beach. They're zombies," Dumbledore said quietly. "The enchanted corpse obeys the orders of the black wizard. It has been a long time since Voldemort's last power came to an end Of course, at that time he killed enough people to form an army. Here we are, Harry, right here... "

They approached a small, tidy stone house in its own garden.

Harry was busy digesting that terrible thought about the corpse without paying attention to anything else, but when they got to the gate, Dumbledore suddenly stopped and Harry bumped into him.

"Oh, my God. Oh, my God, my God, my God. " Harry's eyes sank as he followed the carefully nursed path in front of the door. The front door is not bolted.

"Has anyone been here?" Van Lin said cautiously, "but there is no obvious magic smell, professor."

Dumbledore scanned the street back and forth. It looks empty.

"Take out your wands and follow me," he said softly. He pushed open the yard door and walked quickly through the garden path. Harry followed him, while van Lin walked at the end, carefully looking around.

Dumbledore slowly pushed the front door and raised his wand.

"Fluorescent flicker." The tip of Dumbledore's wand was illuminated, illuminating a narrow corridor. On the left side of the corridor is another open door. Dumbledore held up his wand and walked into the living room, Harry closely following him.

Before them was a mess. A cracked master clock lay at their feet with a broken face, and his pendulum lay a little farther away from them, like a sword on the ground. Next to it was a piano with keys scattered all over the floor. The wreckage of a fallen chandelier shimmered on one side.

The cushions were flattened, feathers were leaking out of the side seams, and smashed glass and China were all over the place. Dumbledore held his wand higher so that the light could shine on the wall, and the wallpaper was splashed with sticky dark red.

Harry took a little breath and Dumbledore turned to look at him.

"It's not very beautiful, is it," he said heavily. "Yes, something terrible has happened here."

Dumbledore walked cautiously to the middle of the room and examined the furniture under his feet. Harry followed and looked around. He wondered in horror that something was hidden behind the piano and the overturned sofa, but there was nothing there."Maybe there was a fight here - and then they dragged him away, professor?" Harry guessed, trying not to imagine how badly a person would have to be to splash so much blood on the middle of the wall.

"I don't think so," Dumbledore said softly, glancing at an overstaffed armchair behind him. "You mean he --"

"Professor, these blood..." Vaseline frowned, contacted Rutherford more, and became sensitive to blood.

"I think something's still here, but..." Van Lin hesitated. "I don't think it's a Death Eater. There's something missing here, professor."

"Yes, he's still here somewhere."

Without any warning, Dumbledore flashed forward, thrust the tip of his wand into the seat of the bloated armchair, and heard a cry, "Ouch

"Good evening, Horace," Dumbledore said as he straightened up.

Harry almost dropped his chin. A fat, bald old man curled up in the place where an armchair was still standing just now. He rubbed his stomach with his hands and looked at Dumbledore with his watery eyes.

"There's no need to poke me that hard," he said gruffly, struggling to his feet. "It will hurt."

The light of the wand illuminated his shining bald head, bulging eyes, and a large silver walrus beard. The buttons of his maroon velvet jacket were polished, and a lilac silk nightgown was worn inside. He stood up straight, but only to Dumbledore's chin.

"How did I expose myself?" He staggered to his feet, muttering and rubbing his stomach. He was not at all shy of being found pretending to be an armchair.

"My dear Horace," dumbley looked happy. "If the Death Eaters really come to visit you, they'll leave a dark mark."

The wizard patted the broad forehead with his fat hand. "Black mark," he muttered. "I know what's wrong Ah, yes. But I don't have time to make that. I just finished my last bit of camouflage before you came in. "

He sighed heavily and moved the end of his beard.

"Do you want me to help you clean up?" Dumbledore said politely.

"Please," he said. They stood back to back, a tall, thin wizard and a stout wizard, waving their wands in the same motion. The furniture flew back to its original place; the ornaments were restored in mid air; feathers crept into their cushions; the torn books returned to their shelves and were restored as before; the oil lamp flew high to the nearby table to light up again; a large number of pieces of silver frame flashed across the room, and then landed on the table in good condition, and turned into the old dust; the house All the cracks and gaps in the wall were gone, and the blood on the wall was swept away.

"By the way, what kind of blood is that?" Said Dumbledore loudly, his voice overshadowing the time chime of the resurrection master clock.

"On the wall? It's dragon blood, "the wizard called Horace, and with a deafening friction and squeak, the chandelier went back to the ceiling and tightened the screws. There was a final bang on the piano, and everything was quiet.

"Yes, dragon blood," repeated the wizard to himself, "my last bottle, now the price is sky high. But this one can be reused. " He hobbled over, removed a small crystal bottle from the top of the cupboard, and lifted it to the light to examine the viscous liquid inside.

"Well. Still. "

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