I wield a sword at Hogwarts

John took a deep breath, his fingers holding the card trembling.

"Who is it?" He looked at the words on the card and an idea came to his mind.

Who sent this letter without any signature?

He thought about what he was planning.

After excluding a few insiders, John wanted a glass of water to sober himself up.

Putting the card solemnly into his pocket, he stared into the distance.

“There are some things that you need to try even though you know you can’t.”

The black envelope floated to the surface, floated for a while and then sank.

A burst of fairy music sounded in John's ears, and a phoenix came to him with an envelope.

"Dumbledore."

There was only one person who could summon the phoenix. Fear flashed in John's eyes as he opened the letter.

"I hope we can meet each other. The password is: Zizi Honey Candy."

Dumbledore extended the invitation, and John glanced at Phoenix, who was also looking at John.

Tilting his head, Phoenix Fox waited for John's reply.

The letter burned in his hand, and John reached out and touched Fox's feathers, chuckling: "Why not?"

Fox received the reply, got up and flew away.

John watched Fox go away. He opened his hand and there was a feather lying there.

He put his hands into his pockets without changing his expression. Dumbledore wanted to talk to him, and he had expected this day.

Dumbledore was really calm. He thought that Dumbledore would not be able to resist looking for him before Christmas.

Walking to the fifth floor, the ugly stone beast squatted there.

John leaned over and said, "Sizzling honey candy."

The stone beast jumped aside, revealing a passage.

After walking in and going up the spiral staircase, he came to the principal's office.

Knocking on the door, Dumbledore's voice came from inside.

"Come in."

Pushing the door open and entering, I looked at the portraits of previous principals on the wall.

"Look who's here, the best in Slytherin." Headmaster Phineas shouted.

As the Slytherin-born headmaster, he gave John a friendly smile.

Although these portraits are not of themselves, they have their own magic power and are basically the same as their own personalities.

Phineas was proud of John's excellence.

Dumbledore raised his head in front of the silverware. Fawkes had returned here, staying on the perch. The Sorting Hat had no eyes, but John felt that it was looking at him.

"John." Dumbledore tapped the silver instrument, and the smoke dissipated.

He walked over to the desk and extended his palm to invite, "Please sit down, you haven't been here for a while."

John watched Dumbledore sit down with cold eyes. The last time he came here was to steal the time turner.

But he failed that time.

Dumbledore could actually fire John, but he didn't.

Overflowing compassion.

John scoffed.

He came to the desk and sat down, his eyes shifted to something on the table with a look of astonishment.

"I think we should talk."

Dumbledore kept paying attention to John's expression and said kindly, "Albus Dumbledore and John Wick."

"It's not the principal and the students, nor the elders, it's just an equal dialogue between friends."

He unleashed full kindness and sincerity.

John finally looked up at Dumbledore, and that old face seemed to become even older.

Dumbledore wanted to make the atmosphere less rigid and said jokingly, "Valentine's Day is coming soon. The school has not stated it clearly, but it does not object to students falling in love."

As he spoke, he winked mischievously at John, "I think your drawers will soon be filled with love letters expressing my love to you."

"Thank you for your concern," John said calmly without changing his expression, "I guess you must have received too many love letters before."

"Maybe so," Dumbledore said rather shamelessly.

It seems to be a wrong choice to focus on the issues of adolescent boys.

Dumbledore looked at John deeply and asked kindly, "John, have you discovered some secrets about...Voldemort?"

"Huh?" John glanced at the silver instrument without trace, raised his eyebrows and asked, "What are you referring to?"

"Do you remember what I told you?" Dumbledore said with memories in his eyes, "I said at that time that you were a Slytherin."

"However, I find that I seem to be wrong." Dumbledore looked at John, shook his head and said, "You are not just a Slytherin, you also have the qualities of a Gryffindor."

"Sometimes, even I make some mistakes. Here," Dumbledore stood up and bowed his head to John, "I apologize to you."

"Because of the stupidity of a confused old man, students who should have been treated fairly have been wronged."

John's expression changed several times as Dumbledore lowered his head.

As if shocked, Dumbledore simply admitted his mistake.

Dumbledore pushed the thing on the table forward, and the golden chain made a sharp sound as it rubbed against the table.

"Magic is not omnipotent, John."

Time converter.

What he didn't get by sneaking into the office was easily delivered to him by Dumbledore at this moment.

Dumbledore said earnestly, "You are different from Voldemort. You have everything that he does not have. You have the most mysterious power in the world... love."

Staring at the golden hourglass, a smile appeared on John's lips that was either self-deprecating or bitter.

He reached out and touched the time turner, feeling the reality in his palm.

He took a deep breath to control his surging emotions.

"Dumbledore," John looked directly into Dumbledore's eyes, "tell me, do you regret it?"

Without waiting for Dumbledore to answer, John said to himself, "It's a pity that I won't regret it."

He grinned, a bit sinisterly.

"Because I am a Slytherin, and I must avenge myself."

His words trailed off.

A dozen owls flew into the principal's office carrying a large number of letters.

Dumbledore picked up one and opened it. He looked up at John in disbelief.

"The Gringotts explosion."

…

Chapter 327 The Gringotts Explosion and the Escaped Dragon

Gringotts.

Griphook walked in front with a nervous expression, and the three people behind him followed him like three shadows.

Picking up the jingle piece, the ring shook and made a jingling sound, which made the guard's Australian oval eyes afraid to come near.

They arrived at the Lestrange vault, and Griphook reluctantly ran his finger through the door.

"Hurry up and open it!"

A voice full of hostility sounded, and Griphook was hit by a red light and screamed in pain.

"Calm down, Bellatrix," Amycus Carrow told the frantic woman to stop.

Bellatrix looks a bit like Narcissa, and has a sense of madness all over her body.

More than ten years of living in Azkaban had made her already somewhat crazy temperament even more terrifying. She pointed her wand at Amycus and roared: "Shut up, it's not my turn for you to teach me how to do things. "

Amycus suppressed his anger and said coldly: "Everything is for the Dark Lord. If it weren't for you, you would have to come and check."

"I need to confirm whether that thing is still there." Bellatrix refused to give face to anyone except Voldemort.

She thought of something and said with some horror on her face, "That, that child, he stole my sword."

After stammering, her expression changed again, and she growled at Griphook: "Open the door quickly!"

Griphook was also unlucky, he was kidnapped by these madmen from Azkaban.

He recalled the young man from Lestrange last time, and suddenly had some bad premonitions in his heart.

Bellatrix is ​​a crazy woman, and if something goes wrong, she might be implicated as well.

The sound of mechanical gears turning was heard, and Lestrange's vault was opened.

Bellatrix pushed Griphook aside and walked in first.

She is the owner of this vault, so she doesn't need to be afraid of the Fire Curse and the Copying Curse.

"Don't come in!" she warned her accomplices who stepped into the vault.

Amycus didn't look good, but Bellatrix ignored him.

She looked towards the place where the Sword of Gryffindor should have been, and the sword there disappeared.

Her expression became panicked.

"It was indeed stolen."

She took two steps back and leaned against the table.

That day she wanted to go see her old enemies, the Longbottoms who were tortured by her.

Instead, she saw the Longbottoms, who were supposed to be tortured crazy, alive and kicking. Not only that, she also saw another person.

She won't forget that scar.

That lightning-like scar was him, the guy who caused the Dark Lord's downfall.

Bellatrix wanted to kill Harry Potter, but before she did it, she saw something in the hand of the Longbottom brat.

At that moment, she was already panicking.

Only those closest to the Dark Lord deserve to know certain things. She immediately thought of other things in the vault.

If that thing is lost, even the Dark Lord's closest subordinates will be disgusted.

She couldn't imagine the day when she would be hated by the Dark Lord. She wanted to confirm whether the things were still there.

For this reason, she risked being discovered by the Ministry of Magic and came to Gringotts.

She actually had a second option, to have someone else come over.

But no one else is worthy of trust, not even Lucius, the husband of his sister Narcissa, who took the initiative to show his loyalty.

She wanted to confirm for herself that the secret had not been discovered.

Letting the others stay outside, she looked up, and the golden cup placed there suddenly appeared in front of her.

She climbed up towards the mountain-like shelf, using her hands and feet without any regard for image.

Finally climbing to the highest point, she carefully held the golden cup with both hands.

"The Dark Lord." There was obsession in her eyes.

This was the Dark Lord's trust in her, and she could never betray it.