Chapter 670 Dumbledore’s Office

"Dumbledore, I'm afraid I can't see any connection between the two, not at all!" This was the voice of the Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge.

"Ruth said Percy's best thing was getting lost. We should have found her by now, I admit, but all the same, we have no evidence of cheating or dirty dealing behind the scenes. Dumbledore, at all. No. How could her disappearance be connected with Crouch’s accident?”

"So what do you think happened to Crouch, Mr. Secretary?" said Moody's deep voice.

"I see two possibilities, Alastor," Fudge said. "One is that Crouch ended up schizophrenic - judging from his personal record, I think you agree, he was more than just - insane , and then wandering around——"

"That's how fast he wanders, if that's true, Cornelius," Dumbledore said calmly.

"Or - what..." Fudge's voice sounded awkward.

"Okay. I'd have to go and see where he was found before I can tell, but you said it wasn't far from Beauxbatons' carriage? Dumbledore, do you know that woman?"

"I think she is a very responsible headmistress - and she dances very well," Dumbledore said lightly.

"Come on, Dumbledore!" said Fudge angrily. "You shouldn't be particularly fond of Hagrid because of her. They are not harmless - if, in fact, you can say that Hagrid is harmless. Damn it, even if that monster follows him—"

"I treat both of them equally. I have no doubts about Hagrid or Madam Maxime." Dumbledore remained calm. "I think that's because you are biased, Cornelius."

"Can we stop talking?" Moody growled.

"Okay, okay, let's go to the forest together," said Connelly impatiently.

"No, that's not what I meant," said Moody, "because Potter and Al wanted to have a word with you, Dumbledore. They're right outside the door."

The office door opened.

Fan Lin sorted it out, and the eavesdropping probably ended here.

"Hello, Al, Potter," Moody said, "come in."

Harry walked in.

He had been in Dumbledore's office before; it was a beautiful round room, the walls lined with pictures of Hogwarts headmasters and ladies, all sound asleep, chests rising and falling.

Fudge stood beside Dumbledore's table, wearing his usual pinstriped coat and gray-green bowler hat.

"Harry!" Fudge called cheerfully, walking forward, "How are you?"

"Very good!" Harry lied. "We were talking about the night Mr. Crouch was found in the forest." Fa Zhi said: "You found him, right?"

"No, it's Fanlin..." Harry said.

Then, feeling that it would be rude to pretend that he had not heard their conversation outside the door, he added: "I didn't see Madame Maxime anywhere. Maybe she had work to do, didn't she?"

Dumbledore stood behind Fudge and smiled at him, winking.

"Really?" Fudge looked embarrassed. He found the wrong person, and Maxim was not there.

Fan Lin raised his head and looked at Dumbledore, whose eyes turned dull.

Fudge smiled awkwardly at Fan Lin. Between Harry and Fan Lin, he favored Harry more, but Fan Lin's identity...

"We are going to the forest for a while, Harry, Al, so please excuse me... maybe you go back to the classroom first-"

"I want to talk to you, Professor." Fanlin said quickly, looking at Dumbledore, who gave him a questioning look.

"Wait for me here, you all," said Dumbledore. "We'll be back soon. It won't take long."

They went out together and closed the door.

After a minute or two, Harry heard the sound of Moody's wooden leg tapping the ground farther and farther below, and he looked around.

Fan Lin had completely relaxed, "You can take a look at it, Harry." Then Fan Lin took out some small pastries.

"Would you like some snacks?" Fan Lin said. Fan Lin had lost his curiosity about Dumbledore's office early. He came here more than once and even discussed it with these principals.

"Forget it." Harry smiled reluctantly, "I'll just take a look."

Fan Lin nodded, Harry really needed to relax.

"Hello, Fox." Fan Lin stood up, then picked up Fox's food and fed it to him.

Fox, the professor's phoenix bird, was standing on a golden perch by the door. It is as big as a swan, and its bright red and gold feathers are very beautiful.

It was rustling its long tail and looking at the two of them affectionately.

Harry sat down at Dumbledore's desk.

For several minutes, he sat there watching the old principal and his wives dozing in the picture frame, thinking about what he had just heard, and touching his scar with his hand. It didn't hurt anymore.

He felt calmer, because after all he was already in Dumbledore's office, and would soon be able to tell him about the dream. Harry raised his head and looked at the wall behind the desk: the patched and tattered hat was in the right place. It stood on a shelf, and next to it was a glass box, which contained a very beautiful silver sword, with a large ruby ​​key on the hilt, which he recognized as the same one he had drawn out of his hat in the second year. The sword once belonged to Godric Gryffindor, the builder of the house where Harry lived.

He stared at it, remembering how much it had helped him when he was desperate.

At this time, he noticed a small piece of silver light jumping on the glass box, flickering. He looked around to find the source of the light, and then he saw a silvery white light coming from a black cabinet behind him because the cabinet door was not closed properly.

Harry hesitated and glanced at Fox and Fan Lin. Fan Lin had no intention of coming over. He was having fun with Fox.

Harry paused, then stood up, walked over to the cupboard, and opened the door.

A shallow stone basin was placed there, with strange carvings on the edge, like some weird letters and symbols, none of which Harry recognized; the silver light came from the contents of the basin, which was not like Harry's. Nothing you've ever seen before.

He didn't even know about this substance.

Whether it is a liquid or a gas, it has a bright silvery white color and is still moving; its surface ripples like wind blowing across the water, but like clouds, it sometimes separates and sometimes swirls.

It was like a liquid of light - and like a solid of wind - Harry had a hard time deciding. (To be continued)