The day to become the final boss

"No, this is the price of not dying, Albus." The master alchemist made a hoarse and airy voice that seemed to be polished by sandpaper.

"I think you need some help, Nico?"

"No, you can't help me, Albus. If you need the Sorcerer's Stone, it's in the second cabinet to the left of the desk, and leave when you find it." The master alchemist tried to move himself into a shadowy corner.

Don't wonder how Nicole Flamel knew that the White Wizard needs the Philosopher's Stone. Even if the door is closed, the master alchemist has his own way of news.

Dumbledore found the blood-red Sorcerer's Stone as he said.It's just that there are many small cracks on the stone that I haven't seen before.

He opened the door, and finally looked at the master alchemist who was huddled in the shadows. He was entrenched in a dark corner like an evil undead, emitting a stench. "You really don't need me to do something for you, old friend."

"No, there is no need..." The black shadow made a vague voice.

The moment Dumbledore closed the door, he suddenly raised his throat, with a creepy tone, and the maniac and piercing voice seemed to be cursing-"I know you are still searching for the Deathly Hallows, Albus , give up, there is no true immortality, don’t expect the dead to be resurrected, that will be disgusted by the god of death—just like me! I am now begging to pass through death every day, even if my soul will be thrown into purgatory—but I even I don’t know when this terrible punishment will end—my body is decaying every second, but I’m still immortal, most of my body has been eaten away by maggots and turned into a skeleton, but I’m still alive!— —”

Dumbledore was so shocked by the terrible words that he even stopped breathing for a moment.

Is there really a Grim Reaper?

On this vast land, under this warm and bright golden sun, is there really a god in charge of death?

Yes, it is said that the Deathly Hallows is a gift from the god of death.

The legend of the Deathly Hallows is too old, so long that people ignore its master, the Grim Reaper.

Dumbledore knew that there was hell, and he thought that hell was just another environment where higher groups of people lived in the wizarding world, but he never thought that there really were gods in this world.

"Albus—the high-level monsters in hell are inextricably linked with the god of death, don't be fooled by them—"

hell monster...

There is one at Hogwarts now.

Dumbledore looked up at Myers, an eleven-year-old Slytherin, on the couch.

"Your Excellency Moores, you disappeared once more than ten years ago. I publicized that you have temporarily transferred to another school. Don't you mind?" Of course Dumbledore would not think that he is really only 11 years old, if his memory is correct , Mr. Moores was in the fourth grade the last time he disappeared.

"Of course, Principal Dumbledore, I did leave a little suddenly that time." Wan Mo rejected the raspberry jam offered by the old principal, and waved his hand, the coffee table changed into another style, with a set of tea sets on it.

"It seems that you like lighter tastes." Dumbledore took back his beloved sweets with some regret.

Wan Mo believes that he is definitely not the only one who disagrees with the Great White Wizard.

"How about Slytherin House? Maybe you like Hufflepuff more than Slytherin." Dumbledore said with a smile.

"I like Slytherin's bedroom." I prefer the current head of Slytherin.

"This is your second time at Hogwarts, I can take it - you like it here?" The White Wizard's crescent spectacles shimmered.

"I've always liked Hogwarts, but—it's not the second time I've come here, I've been here before, but it was much simpler then." Wan Mo casually picked up the hot tea.

Dumbledore was silent for a moment.

He looked around the walls with his blue eyes, and found that the portraits of the principals on the wall were crowding fearfully into a picture frame in the corner.One of them was dressed in the oldest wizard, and besides fear, there was a little bit of complicated emotion on his face.

The afternoon tea didn't last long. Mr. Principal tried his best to talk about trivial matters, as if he was really inviting a friend to chat and drink tea.

Soon, he saw Mr. Moores off, and then stood in front of the picture frame crowded with the headmaster's portrait.

The portraits yelled over each other, telling the White Wizard how terrible that Mers had made them feel.

"Dear Headmaster Amos, maybe you can provide some useful information for younger generations?" Dumbledore looked directly at the oldest wizard portrait among them.

The portrait of Amos seemed to shudder, "Oh, Albus, you can't ask me to do that - well, I'm just a portrait, I can't disobey the order of the current headmaster - I saw him, not the last time Ni The time Cam Flamel came. In a time farther back, when Hogwarts was first established."

Dumbledore choked, it was thousands of years old. "What did Mr. Moores come and do?"

"Oh, I can't say, Albus, but Mr. Moores has no ill will toward Hogwarts. I have to say that the existence of this school for thousands of years has a lot to do with him."

"Dumbledore invited you to have afternoon tea? Mers." Snape sorted out the pile of potion ingredients without looking up.

"Yes, he also recommended his little dessert to me."

Snape's mouth twitched.

Dumbledore's hobby of recommending desserts is really not for anyone.

"Talk about some interesting topics?" He tied up the dried hemorrhage and put it in the storage room.

"No, it's quite boring. I have to complain that the topics discussed by the great white wizard are as boring as housewives." Wan Mo leaned lazily against the wall, looking boredly at the busy Snape, at his greasy Black hair, pale skin, slender and muscular waist, thin and strong buttocks and slender legs, the mind somehow slipped to a place where it wasn't very good.

He reminisces about the lean body hidden under the high-necked black robe, the desire to touch more skin every time he touches it, and the charming expression after sensuality, which makes him want to do something to enhance the two. Quite a beautiful thing about personal emotional and physical communication.

Perhaps because of the strong meaning in his eyes, even Professor Snape, whose back was turned to him, shivered, and he had to turn around and look up at Moores.

There seemed to be some kind of desire gushing out from those black pupils, wanting to swallow him alive.

He could feel the substantial eyes moving slowly down his lips, neck, and chest, lingering repeatedly below his waist and above his thighs.

Snape felt that his throat was a little dry and his breathing was slightly difficult. Even the gloomy specimen jars on both sides of the potions professor's office seemed to reveal an ambiguous color.

The Potions Professor was a little embarrassed to find that he couldn't stand this silent teasing at all, and a certain part of his body had already reacted.

damn it!He should have passed puberty long ago!

Snape coughed dryly, interrupting the ambiguous breath abruptly.

But Mr. Moores' shameless gaze has not been withdrawn.

Snape lowered his voice and said in a blunt tone: "Let me remind you, Mr. Moores, you are only in the first grade now, and the way your eyes set off the body of a 'child' is simply ridiculous!"

Wan Mo quickly adjusted the age of his body, and then used his mature body to approach Severus, who seemed a little cramped.

"Ah——my professor, are you willing to do something better with me now?" There was an explicit invitation in the gentle smile.