Chapter 1277

"Are you Bathilda?"

Harry's voice echoed in the silvery snowy night, like a hint. Loud shouts always inadvertently amplified the emptiness of the surrounding environment.

The heavily dressed man nodded and waved again.

"Remember what I said..." Fan Lin raised his head and looked at Harry, and then like a real cat, he shrank into Hermione's arms, "I will protect you."

Harry and Hermione looked at each other under the Invisibility Cloak, then Harry raised his eyebrows and Hermione nodded slightly nervously.

As if they had made up their minds, the two of them walked towards the woman.

Seeing this situation, Bathilda didn't say anything. She immediately staggered back along the way she came, leading them past several houses and entering a gate.

They followed Bathilda along the path ahead, passing through a garden with branches and branches similar to the ruins just now.

She stood in front of the door and fumbled for a while, then took out her house key, opened the door, and stepped aside to let them in.

Bathilda smelled bad, but maybe it was the smell of the house.

Harry wrinkled his nose as he passed her, then took off his invisibility cloak.

It was only when Harry stood next to her that he realized how small she was.

Hunchbacked by age, Bathilda was barely as high as Harry's chest.

She closed the door behind her, her knuckles blue and her skin speckled like peeling paint, and she squinted at Harry's face. Her eyes were very cloudy due to cataracts and were sunk deeply into the almost transparent skin full of wrinkles. Her entire face showed the veins and yellow-brown age spots under the skin.

In fact, Harry doubted she would recognize him at all; even if she could, she would see the bald Muggle Harry was pretending to be.

So, how did she find out?

Harry's heart pounded. It was clear that even as a wizard, there was no way to avoid the ailments of aging.

Even as powerful as Dumbledore, a wizard can only become as weak as an ordinary person without resorting to some extraordinary means.

Maybe Bathilda is powerful?

Harry frowned and quickly rejected his idea. He had come into contact with many powerful wizards, but none of them exuded a corrupt aura like Bathilda.

She is too old.

Harry calmly blocked Hermione and took a small step back, silently watching Bathilda's movements.

Bathilda didn't do anything. She just took off her moth-eaten shawl, revealing the top of her head with sparse white hair. Suddenly, the smell of old age, dust, dirty clothes, and spoiled food became More intense.

"Bathilda?" Harry asked again uneasily. The old man in front of him looked like a corpse crawling out of a tomb...everywhere was filled with the smell of death.

Fanlin made no move, just looked at Bathilda with squinted eyes.

Harry's decision naturally has to be made up for by Harry. However, Fan Lin has killed Nagini, so who is the person in front of him?

With doubts, Fan Lin twisted his body, trying to find a comfortable position in Hermione's arms.

She nodded again, confirming Harry's question.

But the uneasiness did not leave Harry's body.

Bathilda shuffled past them, pushing Hermione aside as if she hadn't seen her, and walked into what looked like a sitting room.

"Harry, I'm not sure what's going on right now," Hermione said softly.

"Looking at her look like that, if anything happens, I think we can defeat her." Harry said.

"I'm telling you, she shouldn't be like this. Muriel said she was very fanatical..." Hermione said worriedly, and she closed her arm uneasily with one hand, which made Fanlin want to scratch her. Human impulse.

But immediately, Hermione realized that she was holding something else, and she let go apologetically, but her other hand reflexively wanted to hold her wand.

"Come here!" cried Bathilda from the next room.

Hermione jumped up in fright and grabbed Harry's arm.

"It's okay," Harry reassured her, looking down at the white cat in Hermione's arms and taking a deep breath.

Harry led her into the lounge.

Bathilda staggered in the candlelit room. The light was still dim and the room was extremely dirty. Thick dust crunched beneath their feet, and underneath the damp, moldy smell, Harry could smell something worse, like rotting meat.

He didn't know how long it had been since anyone had come to Bathilda's house to see if she was still here.

At the moment, Bathilda seems to have forgotten that she can also cast magic. Because she was clumsily lighting the candle with her hands, the cuff straps could be accidentally lit at any time.

"Let me do it," Harry said hesitantly, and then he took the match from her hand.

Bathilda watched as Harry lit the candles placed in shallow trays across the room, placed precariously on piles of books and on the edge of a table covered with broken, moldy cups. .

When Harry lit the last candle, he saw that the candle was on top of a box with a curved surface, and there were many photos inside. When the candlelight flickered, its light flickered on the dusty glass and silverware.

Harry saw the scenes in the photos shaking.

As Bathilda groped forward by the firelight, Harry whispered "whirlwind sweep", and the dust on the photos immediately disappeared. He saw that the photos in six of the largest and most gorgeous frames were no longer there. It was known whether Bathilda or someone else had taken them.

The bottom one of the pile of photos caught Harry's attention, and he picked it up and looked at it: it was the thief with blond hair and a cheerful expression who had been sitting on Grigovitch's window sill. Looking at Harry lazily in the frame, Harry immediately remembered that he had seen this boy before - on the photo included in Rita's book "The Life and Lies of Albus Dumbledore"!

He was the young man holding hands with Dumbledore!

"Mrs. Bagshot...Ms.?" Harry said, his voice trembling slightly, "Who is this?"

Bathilda was standing in the middle of the room watching Hermione light the torch for her.

"Miss Bagshot?" Harry called again. He walked to Bathilda with the photo. The flame in the fireplace burned. Bathilda raised her head when she heard his voice, feeling an inexplicable emotion. The pounding on Harry's chest became even more intense.

"Who is this person?" Harry asked her, holding up the photo.

She stared solemnly at the photo, then at Harry.

"Do you know who this man is?" Harry repeated in a slower and louder voice than usual. "That's this guy. Do you know who he is? What's his name?"

Bathilda looked confused, much to Harry's dismay.

How did Rita Skeeter unlock Bathilda's memory?

"Who is this?" Harry shouted impatiently.

"Harry, what are you doing?" Hermione asked.

"Hermione, this picture is the thief who stole Grigovitch's things! Please," he said to Bathilda again, "who is he?"

But Bathilda just stared at him.

"Why did you ask us to come here with you, Mrs. Bagshot...Miss?" Hermione asked, her voice rising. "Is there something you want to tell us?"

But Bathilda didn't seem to hear what Hermione said at all. She shuffled closer to Harry, then turned her head sharply and looked back towards the hall.

"You want us to leave?" Harry asked uncertainly.

Bathilda repeated the gesture again, but this time she pointed first at Harry, then at herself, and finally at the ceiling.

"Okay...Hermione, Van...I mean, I think she wants us to follow her upstairs."

"Okay," Hermione replied, "let's go."

But as soon as Hermione took a step forward, Bathilda shook her head vigorously, pointed at Harry again, and then at herself.

"You want me to go with you alone." Harry's expression changed slightly.

"Why?" Hermione asked loudly immediately, her voice sharp and clear in the candlelit room, and Bathilda shook her head slightly.

"Maybe Dumbledore asked her to give the sword to me, and only to me?" Harry said uncertainly, looking at Fan Lin involuntarily.

At this moment, Fanlin was completely awake, jumped from Hermione's arms to Harry's shoulders, and then rubbed Harry's face.

"Follow him!" Fan Lin's voice remembered in Harry's mind.

"Do you think she really knows who you are?"

"Yes," Harry said hesitantly, looking into Bathilda's cloudy eyes.

"Okay, but hurry up, Harry."

"Lead the way," Harry said to Bathilda.

Bathilda seemed to understand, because she led Harry toward the door tremblingly. At the same time, she didn't care whether there was something else on Harry's shoulders.

This made Harry feel strange, but he turned back to Hermione and smiled to reassure her, but he didn't know if she saw it.

Hermione stood in the dirty room under the candlelight with her arms folded, looking at the bookcase.

Harry walked out of the room and, while neither Hermione nor Bathilda were looking, put the silver-framed photo of the thief in his pocket.

"She can't see me, or she can't notice it at all..." Fan Lin communicated with Harry silently.

"But……"

"I don't know what's going on, but you have to be careful." Fan Lin sat on Harry's shoulder, his little head staring closely at the hunchbacked figure and constantly moving with it.

The narrow staircase had a steep slope, and Harry half-stretched his hands forward to prevent Bathilda from falling over him, which did seem likely.

Somewhat breathless, she slowly walked upstairs, turned left, and led Harry into a room with a low ceiling.

The room was dark and smelled terrible.

Harry had just made out a chamber pot sticking out from under the bed when Bathilda closed the door and they were plunged into darkness.

"Luciferase." Harry said. The moment his wand glowed, Harry was startled by Bathilda in front of him. In those dark seconds, Bathilda walked to his side, and Harry Leigh didn't hear her approach.

"Are you Potter?" she asked in a low voice.

"Yes, I am." Harry hesitated and then said,

Bathilda's voice was extremely hoarse. It didn't sound like a human voice at all. It was as if something had learned to speak. Maybe Bathilda hadn't spoken for a long time. Harry smelled a fishy smell. The smell is mixed with the smell of decay...

But Bathilda didn't care and nodded slowly, looking very solemn.

Harry felt his nerves throbbing, as if they were keeping up with his accelerated heartbeat. This was definitely not a pleasant thing.

"Do you have anything for me?" Harry tried to ask, but she seemed to be distracted by Harry's glowing wand.

"Do you have anything for me?" Harry asked again. Bathilda closed her eyes, and at that moment, several things happened at the same time: Harry's scar hurt like a needle; at the same time, an uneasy feeling invaded his brain, just like every time he connected with Voldemort, the dark and smelly room suddenly disappeared from his sight.

Harry felt a strong excitement and said in a high-pitched and cold voice: Catch him!

Harry stood there swaying, and the dark and smelly room appeared next to him again. He didn't know what had just happened.

"Do you have anything for me?" Harry asked for the third time, his voice much higher.

But what Harry didn't notice was that Fanlin had jumped onto the cabinet next to him, watching everything in front of him coldly.

In fact, Fanlin's vision was a little blurred just now, and a strong mental interference was spreading out from Harry and Bathilda's body.

The owner of that will was very familiar to Vanlin, but he was definitely not here.

"Over there," Bathilda ignored Vanlin, as if she couldn't see him, she whispered to Harry, pointing to the corner.

Harry raised his wand and saw a messy table full of clothes under the window with the curtains drawn.

This time she didn't take him there again.

Harry raised his wand and walked sideways between Bathilda and the bed. He didn't want Bathilda to leave his sight.

"Where is it?" Harry seemed to completely believe Bathilda at this moment. He tried to touch the table and asked, which was full of things like dirty clothes.

"There," she said, pointing to the messy pile of rags.

Just when Harry wanted to turn his head and find a ruby-studded sword in the pile of rags, Harry saw Bathilda change strangely from the corner of his eye. He turned around in panic, and fear almost paralyzed him: he saw the old body lying on the ground, and an unknown black shadow was gradually breaking free from Bathilda's body.

"Don't move, Harry!" Vanlin's voice suddenly rang out, "Wait a minute, something is wrong!"

It was definitely Voldemort who controlled Harry just now, otherwise Harry would not have been able to open the door wide open after repeated reminders from himself.

However, Bathilda's changes...

From the moment he entered the door, Vanlin could be sure that the person in front of him was already a corpse.

But the question is, after Nagini's death, what will Voldemort use to replace Bathilda?

As an author of the history of magic, and as is well known, he is still closely related to Dumbledore, and even has contact with and is familiar with the Deathly Hallows. No matter from which perspective, Bathilda will not be found by Voldemort.

However, there is always a glimmer of luck, and they want to be one step faster than Voldemort.

This is Harry's choice, and Vanlin must respect it, but the changes in Bathilda make Vanlin a little unsure. This black thing looks like Bathilda's soul, but it is very weird... (To be continued)