Hogwarts Advanced Guide

Chapter 357 The Dangerous Arthur Weasley
The dream is hallucinated.
His body was soft, strong and flexible, sliding between the shiny metal bars, over the dark, cold stones... His body was close to the ground, sliding on his belly... The light was dim, but he could see the light of objects around him, some strange, vivid colors... He turned his head... At first glance, the corridor was empty... No... There was a figure sitting on the ground with his head hanging on his chest, his silhouette flickering in the dimness.

As if he had turned into a snake, Harry actually stuck out his tongue, and he tasted the man's scent. He was alive, but dozing sitting in front of the door at the end of the corridor...

Harry longed to bite the man...but he had to resist the urge...there were more important things to do...

What happened next made Harry regret that he didn't wake up from the dream immediately, because it would cause him great trouble, both physically and psychologically.

The man woke up, jumped to his feet, a silver cloak slipped from his legs, Harry could see his bright, blurred silhouette standing before him, a wand drawn from its belt... He had no choice... He reared up, struck once, twice, three times, sinking his fangs deep into the man's skin, feeling ribs cracking between his teeth, hot blood...

It's just too miserable, isn't it?Harry thought so, but he couldn't control his behavior at all, just watching this happen in such horror that he couldn't even get out of the dream, it made Harry retch, it made him very uncomfortable.

The man screamed in pain, then fell silent and collapsed in the corner, donating blood and splashing on the ground
Harry's head hurt so badly that it looked like it was going to explode.
"Harry! Harry!"

It was Ron, who discovered Harry's anomaly, or everyone discovered Harry's anomaly. All the little wizards in the dormitory gathered together. After Harry fell asleep, he suddenly yelled.

Harry opened his eyes, drenched in cold sweat, the sheet wrapped around him like a tights.He felt like a hot poker had been stuck in his forehead.

He hugged his head, his eyes were black with pain, he rolled to the side of the bed and vomited.

he is sick!
It was a thought shared by several others in the room, who believed that Harry was as ill as the reports said.

"Harry, Harry!"

Ron was still calling for Harry, ignoring those guys.

Harry, on the other hand, wanted to tell Ron something crucial. Harry gasped desperately, propped himself up from the bed, and ordered himself not to vomit. His vision was blurred in pain.

"Your father," he said out of breath, his chest heaving, "your father... something happened..."

"What?" Ron didn't understand.

"Your dad! He was bitten, badly, with blood everywhere..."

"I'll get someone," said the terrified voice, and Harry heard footsteps running out of the dormitory.

"Listen, buddy, you... are just dreaming." Ron said doubtfully. He naturally believed in Harry, but that didn't mean he would believe in one of Harry's dreams, or even a dream in front of his own eyes.

It's just so ridiculous, isn't it?
Harry was still trying to argue, he wanted to convince Ron that he wasn't lying, that he really saw it - or rather he did.

He didn't know how long it had been, at least Harry didn't know, he just sat there shivering, feeling the pain from his scar slowly subside... There were hurried footsteps on the stairs, and he heard Neville's voice again.

"Here. Professor"

Hera hurried into the dormitory in a lilac flowing robe, with her cloak twisted around her body.

But when Neville found him, he was making portkeys in his room and had only had time to put on his cloak because he was worried that Harry would reappear where he shouldn't be.

"What's the matter, Harry? What happened? Where does it hurt?"

Harry had never been so happy to see Hera, not even when Hera had reappeared after a fight with Ministry of Magic officials before—he needed members of the Order of the Phoenix now, not someone nervously prescribing him useless potions.

"It's Mr. Weasley," he said and started again, "he got bitten by a snake, very badly, I saw it."

"What, what did you see?" Hera's eyebrows twitched, and then her face changed drastically, "Harry, you'd better come with me."

Hera grabbed Harry, dragged him directly and rushed towards the principal's office. This was definitely not a good signal, and it might mean that the Horcrux in Harry's head was awakening.

Hera didn't want another little Voldemort in Hogwarts, the one outside the castle alone was worrying enough.

So, he arrived at the principal's office very quickly. Dumbledore was wearing snow-white pajamas and a dressing gown inlaid with gold on a purple background. He looked like he had just gotten out of bed, but he was full of energy.

"I'm sorry to disturb you so late, but I think Harry has something to tell you." Hera said quickly, and pulled Harry to Dumbledore, while she found a seat slightly to the side.

"So, tell me, Harry," said Dumbledore, half-moon lenses blocking his eyes, and his messy silver hair making him look very old.

"I saw... I mean I was sleeping, and then I got there," said Harry.

"You mean you are sleeping?" Dumbledore questioned, while pushing the glasses on the bridge of his nose, "Can I understand that?"

"Uh, okay." Harry said uncertainly, "I had a completely different dream first, something stupid... Then this came in, it was real, not my fantasy, Mr. Weasley was sleeping on the ground, bitten by a big snake, a lot of blood, he fell down, have to find out where he is..."

After Harry finished speaking, the words seemed to echo in the air, absurd, even ridiculous.Dumbledore leaned back and stared at the ceiling.

Immediately afterwards, Dumbledore looked at him through the half-moon-shaped lens, as if seeing something terrifying, because his expression became extremely serious.

"I'm not lying, and I'm not crazy," Harry cried. "I'm telling you, I saw it with my own eyes!"

"I believe you." Dumbledore said softly, and Heran pursed his lips. What he had been worrying about might have happened. "How did you see that?" Dumbledore looked at the ceiling, sitting on the high-backed chair behind his desk, with extraordinarily deep eyes.

"Well I don't know," said Harry a little annoyed - it doesn't matter at all! "In my head."

"You misunderstood," said Dumbledore, still in a calm tone. "I mean... do you remember - ah - where you were when you saw the attack? Were you standing next to the victim, or were you overlooking the scene from above?"

It was a strange question, and Harry stared blankly at Dumbledore, as if he knew...

"I am the snake," said Harry, "I see it from the snake's point of view..."

"I think we can't take it as a coincidence." Hera said with her lips pursed.

Dumbledore nodded, then asked again, "Is Arthur seriously injured?"

"Seriously." Harry's words were serious, as if he was afraid that Dumbledore and Hera would not take this matter to heart - even though they looked extremely nervous.

Dumbledore was still looking at the ceiling, not looking at Harry.

Suddenly, Dumbledore stood up abruptly, Hera nodded towards him, raised her wand and planned to break through the door.

"Wait, Hera, there are people who move faster than us," said Dumbledore, turning to an old portrait near the ceiling. "Evra?" he snapped. "And you, Daisy!"

A yellow-faced wizard with black bangs and an old witch with long silver curly hair in the frame next to her opened their eyes immediately. Both of them seemed to be sleeping soundly just now—but obviously, the portrait didn't need sleep, they were just pretending to be asleep.

"Did you hear that?" Dumbledore asked.

The wizard nodded, and the witch said, "Of course."

Hera squinted her eyes. These two were one of the former headmasters of Hogwarts. If there is no accident, Dumbledore will also appear on it in a few decades, right?
"Evra, you need to sound the alarm and make sure he's found by your own people—" Dumbledore said, and before he could finish speaking, the two wizards nodded and flew out of the frame from the side, but did not appear in the frame next to it.Hera tilted her head and glanced at Phineas Black who was huddled in the corner. She had to say that her great-great-grandfather was a little too cowardly. (Given the frequency of the marriages of the 28 sacred races, all wizards with surnames in history can basically be regarded as their elders, let alone the only headmaster of Slytherin who was born in the Black family.)
Although Phineas was snoring realistically and drooling, he secretly looked at him from under his eyelids, and even winked at him, which made Hera feel speechless.

"Evra and Dai Lisi used to be the two famous headmasters of Hogwarts." Dumbledore walked quickly from Hera and Harry to the beautiful big bird sleeping by the door—Phoenix Fox. "Other important wizarding institutions also have their portraits. They can come and go between their portraits at will, so they can tell us what happened elsewhere."

There is no doubt that this is Dumbledore explaining for Harry, because Hera knows these most basic things very well, and Dumbledore will not explain for Fox, after all, it is just a "flamingo".

Yes, for Hera, the Fox is just a little bit more advanced than the turkey, anyway, it doesn't listen to itself, at least the turkey is still edible, even if it is a little firewood.

"Dumbledore, I—" Hera interrupted Harry in the middle of his words, "Harry, wait a moment, Dumbledore will arrange everything."

"Okay." Harry nodded, Hera pulled a chair for him, and the two of them sat down, waiting for Evra and Dai Lisi to come back.

Dumbledore was pacing at the door. Suddenly, he stopped and stretched out a finger to stroke the golden feather on Fox's head. The Phoenix woke up immediately, raised its beautiful neck, and looked at him with bright black eyes.

"It's not just me pretending to be asleep, that bad bird Fox is also pretending to be asleep." Hera heard Phineas behind him say harshly, he seemed to have deep resentment, which made Hera chuckle.

Harry still didn't know why, Dumbledore said softly to Fawkes: "We need a little alarm."

With a flash of fire, the phoenix disappeared.

Dumbledore walked up to a delicate silver instrument. To be honest, Hera could only vaguely guess that it must be a precision instrument compounded with multiple cutting-edge alchemy products, but he was not sure what it would do.

In fact, Hera did not see the function of this silver instrument.

Dumbledore moved the instrument to the desk, sat down facing them again, and tapped it with the tip of his wand.The instrument started to run immediately, making a rhythmic jingle sound, and wisps of light green smoke spewed out from the small silver tube at the top, gathering and lingering in the air...

Dumbledore stared intently at the light smoke, frowning.A few seconds later, the few wisps of smoke turned into a steady stream of smoke, thicker and thicker, hovering in the air... the top turned into a snake head with its mouth wide open.

Hera wondered if the instrument was worth something—ahem, what was it for? He looked eagerly at Dumbledore for some sign, but Dumbledore didn't look up.

"Naturally, naturally," said Dumbledore to himself, still staring at the smoke, not surprised at all, "but essentially separate?"

The smoke snake immediately split into two, circling and writhing in the dim air.With a grim but satisfied expression, Dumbledore tapped the instrument again with his wand.The jingle slowed down and stopped, and the smoke snake gradually faded away, turning into invisible smoke and disappearing.

"This is!?" Hera's pupils dilated in shock. He vaguely seemed to have guessed the function of this silver instrument. Can it detect the soul of the person the user wants to know?

This must have been made by Dumbledore himself. Compared to this period of time, Dumbledore has been busy with this matter. Seeing that he said so carelessly, didn't he honestly make this instrument in the end?
Hera snorted.

Dumbledore nodded, and looked at Hera seriously, "Yes, that's what you think."

"Sorry, what are you talking about—" Harry asked suspiciously, but before he finished speaking, there was a shout on the right wall, and Evra came back, and he was already back in the picture frame, a little out of breath.

"Dumbledore!"

"Any news?" Dumbledore put the instrument back on the slim table, and as he passed, the portrait in the frame on the nearby wall hurriedly pretended to be asleep again.

"I kept yelling that someone was coming," Evra said, wiping his forehead with the curtain, "that I heard something moving downstairs—they were dubious, but they went down and looked—you know there's no portraits down there to look at. Anyway, after a few minutes, they brought him up."

(End of this chapter)