This Hogwarts isn't normal.

Basilisks are not natural creatures and have been a symbol of evil for thousands of years.

Because the first batch of basilisks in historical records were usually created by dark wizards for some evil purpose.

Starting from the second batch, more and more wizards appeared for the purpose of research.

Salazar Slytherin's purpose was simple, just to protect Hogwarts in the way he thought was most appropriate.

Vincent, who finally touched Jomgand's forehead, sighed:

"The last heir of the Gaunt family is Tom. When he really dies, you don't have to complete Slytherin's mission."

Jomgand seemed to understand this sentence.

It rubbed its forehead with its little hand, and its coiled body completely relaxed.

"Hiss--"

Vincent tilted his little head and thought for a long time.

"Are you talking about Harry?"

"Hiss--"

He seemed to understand what Jomgand was saying now, "Isn't Harry's Parseltongue natural?"

"Hiss--"

The seven people present knew that this was a positive response.

They might not speak it, but they could understand the snake language a little bit.

The only one who dared to be sure was Vincent.

"Do you know how Harry got his Parseltongue?"

"Hiss--"

This was a negative answer.

Jormand seemed to have the ability to identify the Creator.

He noticed it from Tom, but did not find any traces on Harry's side.

"What is going on?" Even Hagrid understood the importance of this news.

He was late twelve years ago.

When arriving at the Potter Cottage in Godric's Hollow, the only one still alive was the baby Harry in the cradle.

The lightning-shaped scar on the forehead was a proof, a proof of survival under Voldemort's killing curse.

Vincent recalled the scene when Harry first saw Quirrell's head wrapped in a scarf-that is, Voldemort.

Does the scar feel burning?

It is impossible to cast spells in the soul state. Quirrell did not hold a wand at the time, and he did not mutter anything.

After digesting the heavyweight news brought by Jormand, Hermione reminded everyone: "We have to tell Professor Dumbledore the news quickly!"

"Thank you for the news." Vincent moved his hand away from Jormand's forehead, "That's it for today, I'll come again when I have time."

It watched the seven people walk out of the cave, and its intact right eye seemed to be looking forward to the next meeting.

"Hiss--"

...

...

Hogsmeade, the Hog's Head Pub.

Dumbledore sat next to the worn wooden bar, facing Aberforth, who had white hair and a long beard like himself.

They looked a bit alike, especially the same blue eyes.

"I plan to reconvene the members of the Order of the Phoenix."

Aberforth paused for a moment while wiping his wine glass, "Are you anxious?"

"Yes, I met an old friend yesterday and have solved the secret of his immortality."

"Whatever you like."

Dumbledore didn't care about his brother's attitude.

For more than a century, he has always treated himself like this.

The two of them remained silent, and no one broke the tacit silence.

Until the door of the bar was opened from the outside, and a short old man walked in.

He was wearing a decent woolen coat, and his silver-white hair was a little sparse.

"Ephias!" Dumbledore stood up and leaned over to hug him warmly.

"Albus, long time no see."

The short old man was named Ephias Doge, a special consultant for the Ministry of Magic's law and Wizengamot.

He was the same schoolmate who had an appointment with Dumbledore to go on a graduation trip, and was also a veteran member of the Order of the Phoenix.

Doge greeted Aberforth, received a cold response, and sat at the bar.

"Ephias, didn't you bring your luggage?"

"I did, it's all here." He patted the pockets on both sides of his woolen coat, "To be honest, you should have invited me earlier."

Dumbledore smiled, "You are my last hope. If there is a more suitable candidate, I will definitely not invite you to experience the curse."

"I have heard something." Doggie mentioned another thing, "The Ministry of Magic has decided to dump everything on Gilderoy. You should guess what price Lucius will pay for this, right?"

"I know."

The Malfoy family has always had a good vision.

It is not twelve years ago now, the wind direction of the entire Ministry of Magic has changed.

If the diary incident is not discovered, Hagrid, who has a criminal record, will be the first to take the blame.

Maintaining superficial peace as much as possible is the real reason why Fudge did not hesitate to implement the scapegoat strategy.

He does not want Voldemort to come back, nor does he want any news to be spread.

If the relationship with some former Death Eaters is completely cut off, the arrival of that day will be delayed.

The longer the better, it is best not to be in his position.

"Cornelly has changed." Dumbledore's bright blue eyes dimmed a little.

"He has become the person he once hated the most, trying to refuse to receive any bad news by covering his ears."

"Albus, I know you won't regret it--"

"Bang", Aberforth slammed a glass of whiskey in front of Doggie.

"Thank you, Aberforth." Doggie smiled and took a sip of the glass.

He and Dumbledore have been friends for more than a century, and of course he knows the story of these two brothers.

"Albus, if you think so - I mean if you let it, there are a lot of people who would be happy to see Fudge step down."

"You know I wouldn't do this, Ephias."

"Yeah." Dorje took another sip of whiskey.

The wine's spiciness at the beginning slowly transforms into a unique floral aroma.

"Aberforth, did you brew this last year?"

"I picked it up from the roadside."

He knew it was a joke, and he knew that interrupting the conversation just now was just impulsive.

Dumbledore looked at the empty bar in front of him, shook his head and took out a simple small cloth bag from his robe.

Reading at midnight

"Honey Duke's trial product?" Dorje took a curious look and shuddered unconsciously.

"Yes, Ambrosio said eating it will make your teeth chatter and make a squeaking sound like a mouse."

Dumbledore said, twisting a small transparent candy that exuded cold air from inside.

"Albus, I have to remind you, it's November."

"This way the flavor can be better preserved." He held the candy in his mouth, "Don't you try it?"

Duoji carefully picked up a piece, and as soon as he put it in his mouth, he hunched his shoulders and trembled all over.

"It - squeak - does it have a - squeak - name?"

"Ambrosio hasn't decided yet, what do you think of the name Ice Rat?"

"It's quite - squeak - quite good."

Dumbledore smiled and enjoyed the magical changes brought about by the candy.

Perhaps the taste buds have been frozen, the initial slight sweetness has disappeared, leaving only a coldness far beyond that of ice.

He thought that fresh wheatgrass from Siberia should be added to it.

This is a very soft plant that is particularly suitable for long-term preservation.

After 5 minutes, Duoji stopped shaking.

He drank all the whiskey into his mouth. Before his numb tongue could fully feel the spiciness of the wine, it all slid down his throat and into his stomach.

"Ah - I'm alive again!"

If you come to an ice mouse in the summer, it will definitely be a particularly happy thing.

Forget it in winter. If you eat too much, you will definitely turn into an ice sculpture.

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