Hogwarts Everything is Three
Vol 2 Chapter 880: ?Familiar description
"Yes, Harry, this is their usual method... I have been forced by them before..." Dumbledore tapped his finger on the table. "I will warn them that ordinary students should not be Get involved in these things, whether this time or a mysterious person..."
Harry blurted out: "Professor...why can't you join forces with Allen? That's the greatest safety guarantee in the British magical world... Death Eaters, Voldemort, etc. are completely trivial."
"Harry, please believe me, I have been working hard for this..." Dumbledore said calmly "But unfortunately...Mr. Alan Harris and I are very stubborn on some issues..."
Harry drooped his head, and the knuckles of his fingers were white.
"Harry, you are very depressed. Honestly, I am not in a better mood to let things happen like this." Dumbledore's fingertips came together, which was his habitual movement.
"I don't understand, Professor, why you and Alan can't compromise with each other. You all hope the magic world can be better." Harry shook his head. In front of Dumbledore and Alan, it was difficult for him to control himself. Emotions.
"Harry, the magic world has become accustomed to peace. The mysterious people want to see this peace destroyed, and Allen's radical education reforms are for this peace..." Dumbledore's voice was a little tired, "Harry, your classmate What are their attitudes towards this?"
"I don't know... uh... I mean, everyone has any idea... For example, Neville is a pure-blooded person, but he personally supports Allen very much. He thinks Allen is a smart person and makes all decisions. Very wise, but he told me that his grandmother has always been very opposed to him learning dark magic, and also opposed to Ellen teaching magic to others, but his grandmother refused some invitations from pure-blood families...Fryg, he was born in Muggles, He was very willing to learn these spells and magic, but he was more resistant, disgusted and afraid of black magic, he did not dare to study unscrupulously." Harry's eyes flashed across Dumbledore's face, but the principal was still so calm. With a kindly appearance and no attitude, Harry continued: "...After Allen talked about the open knowledge of the Ravenclaw Temple...many people seemed to face family pressure...I heard Dean say …It’s Dean Thomas. His dad has sent letters to keep him away from these things. His dad is a wizard and his mother is a Muggle. His dad’s boss has begun to put pressure on his employees…not just us, Allen’s It’s the same in the training class, everyone is confused, but I think, just like Malfoy, including some pure blood... Most people in the school are more inclined to support Allen."
"For a large part of our wizarding community, Professor Alan Harris’s theme is very tempting. They will get involved... and from the very beginning, they tend to confront countless disagreements. Become more insistent and more engaged... This is not only causing the division of students, it will make the UK and the entire magical world turbulent..." Dumbledore asked Harry through the top of his crescent glasses. , "Harry, you must be wondering why I, who have been fighting for Muggles and half-blood wizards to gain more powers they deserve, would take another posture in reforming education?"
"Yes, I don't understand very well, Professor." Harry understood Dumbledore's concerns just now, but felt more unspeakable confusion, as if he was in a fog.
"I'll show you a few memories later as usual... Harry, maybe you can understand..." After snapping his fingers, Dumbledore said sternly, "Just leave it alone." These, we have more important things to talk about, Harry, did you finish the homework I assigned last time?"
"Ah," Harry suddenly remembered, because of Quidditch games, Ron poisoning, Apparition Class and Alan's affairs, and also caring about Pansy and Snape... plus since the last time he pressed Slughorn. The other side's defense against him... Dumbledore's question made Harry's heart sink. He didn't dare to look directly into Dumbledore's eyes at the beginning, looking at the meditation basin placed on the table. There were two beside the meditation. The crystal bottle contains swirling memories.
Harry responded with a guilty conscience: "Professor, I asked Professor Slughorn several times so that he was reluctant to talk to me. He was very reluctant to recall that incident, and I couldn't get his memory. ."
There was a moment of silence in the headmaster room.
"Oh," Dumbledore stared at Harry from above the half-moon glasses, "So you have given up, have you? I noticed that you have recently started to spend all your energy on other things..."
"Uh." Harry was speechless, not knowing what to say, he was a little ashamed to find a reason for himself: "Uh...the day Ron took the ecstasy by mistake, the reason why I brought him to Slug With Professor Horn, it was because Professor Slughorn, who wanted to take the opportunity and refused to talk to me, had the opportunity. I think maybe I can..."
"Did it succeed?" Dumbledore asked.
"Well, no, Professor... You know, I also poisoned Ron..."
"...Naturally, so you forgot to look for memories. I didn't expect any other reaction, because your best friend is in danger... But once it is determined that Mr. Weasley will fully recover, I think you will look back. Doing my homework...but you seem to be worrying about other things again, such as the hot fight with Miss Weasley?...Harry...I have explained to you how important that memory is. In fact, I have tried my best to make you realize it. It is the most critical piece of memory. Without it, we would only waste time..."
A hot, pin-piercing sense of shame spread from the top of Harry's head. Dumbledore didn't raise his voice, or even anger in his words, but Harry preferred him to yell. This cold disappointment was more uncomfortable than anything.
"Professor," Harry explained a little desperately, "It's not that I don't care, I'm just being caught by other... other things..."
"Everything else makes you worry about it," Dumbledore finished his sentence for him, "I see."
The two were silent again. This was the most embarrassing silence Harry had experienced by Dumbledore's side. It seemed endless, only occasionally hummed by the portrait of Armando Dupete on Dumbledore's head. Interrupted by his snoring.
Harry felt a strange sense of insignificance, as if he had shrunk when he entered the house, and he couldn't stand it anymore, so he said, "Professor Dumbledore, I'm really sorry...I should have thought that if it's not really important, you I will not be asked to do it...I promise I will get it wholeheartedly in the future."
"I'm very grateful for that, Harry..." Dumbledore stroked his long beard and sighed as Harry looked a little uncomfortable in his heart. "...Sometimes I want to succeed in achieving my goal, not just It takes hard work, we still need some luck... Hmm... Harry, I think you can go to Professor Snape and ask him for some blessings, I will tell Severus to let him cooperate with you..."
"Professor, don't bother Snape, I think...Oh, I mean don't bother Professor Snape..." Hearing Snape's name, Harry shook his head subconsciously and refused, and then he thought of what he had been before. Jokingly planned, "I think...I can borrow a blessing potion from Hermione. As you know, in the first potions class of this year, Professor Slughorn rewarded Hermione with a bottle of blessing potion. She shouldn't use it normally..."
"So, can I hope that you intend to mention the schedule of this matter to the premise?" Bridet looked at Harry from the hook nose.
"I will, professor." Harry's lips pressed tightly. Although Dumbledore didn't have any accusatory language, this calm disappointment made his heart heavier.
"Then we won't say this anymore... Do you remember our last story, Harry?" Dumbledore's tone became more cordial, his hand swept across the meditation basin and memory bottle on the table." These two memories are very precious, because few people can provide us with memories of adult Voldemort...In fact, I once doubted whether there was a living person besides himself who could tell us in detail about his departure from Hogwarts. Life later."
"As you might have guessed, he was promoted to seventh grade with the best results in every exam. The classmates around him were thinking about what career they would pursue after graduation. Almost everyone thought Tom Riddle would be amazing He is the prefect, the chairman of the student union, the top student, and he has received the school’s special award and Merlin Medal. Charming he is welcomed by most students and professors, and he has led a school he established called Wo The small organization of the Knights of Erpas-now they are called Death Eaters..." Dumbledore finished talking about Voldemort's excellence expertly, sipped his drink and continued. "I know that several teachers, including Professor Slughorn, suggested that he enter the Ministry of Magic and were willing to introduce him to him, but he refused all of them... Then the teachers learned that he had gone to the Boking-Bock. The black magic shop is working."
This familiar description made Harry very uneasy, and he turned off the subject: "Bogin-Bok?"
"I think you still remember what Tom revealed in those memories... Although the Gunter family is old, it is no longer helpful to Tom. If he was born in an orphanage and wants to continue to gain some knowledge after graduation, I don't think so It’s more suitable for him than this place...I regret that Hogwarts didn’t hide a lot of overly dangerous knowledge at the time..." Dumbledore picked up a shiny small crystal bottle next to the Pensieve. He knocked on the bottle with his magic wand, and the cork flew out. He poured the swirling memory into the meditation basin: "This memory comes from an old house elf, her name is Hao Qi. Her owner is Yi A very old and very wealthy witch named Hepziba Smith... After this incident, I managed to get Hao Qi's memory."
Harry stood up, leaned over and leaned close to the silver substance in the stone basin in front of the ripples, and entered his memory.
In a richly decorated room, the orange flames of the three candles burning on the candlesticks were jumping happily. Harry realized that his vision had become much shorter, and he realized that he was hiding through that one. I’m looking at things from the perspective of my house elf~www.NovelMTL.com~Thank you for the flowers you brought me...how do you know my favorite species? You spoiled me, this old lady..." An old female voice rang out, with an injustice in her tone. She picked up the white teapot with a delicate texture, and the flowing tea immediately changed from colorless to color after being poured into the cup. It turned purple-red, emitting a haze.
"I've said it hundreds of times... The store used you too harshly, and your pale face is a bit abnormal recently... Just eat something..." A very plump old woman asked the house elf to A plate of snacks was placed in front of a young wizard, who wore a gorgeous red-purple robe and a delicate **** wig on her head.
Harry guessed that this should be Mrs. Hepziba Smith, the hostess of the house elf Haoqi.
Hepziba took the cup of tea and offered it to the young man opposite him: "What is the excuse for seeing me this boring old woman?"
The young man took the teacup gracefully, and didn't care about the old lady's behavior when he took the opportunity to touch him. He just leaned on the chair with his upright back and raised his head, but the smile he kept was a little more mechanical.
Harry realized that the young wizard was Voldemort who had graduated from Hogwarts—now he was Tom Marvolo Riddle, who he and Harry had seen in the second-year secret room incident. The handsome male student council chairperson in that notebook has changed a bit. He looks more mature and handsome. His well-groomed black hair is neatly combed to the right and his cheeks are sunken. Going down, the facial features are more three-dimensional. Wearing an indigo-colored shirt, the shirt is neatly buttoned to the neck, and a dark green single-breasted suit and vest that fits his body is covered. His actions show an old-school pure blood. .
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