Chapter 880 ? A Familiar Description

"Yes, Harry, this is their usual method... I have been forced by them before..." Dumbledore tapped his fingers on the table, "I will warn them, ordinary students should not be forced Get involved in these things, whether it's this time or the mysterious man's..."

Harry blurted out: "Professor...why can't you join hands with Allen? That's the biggest security guarantee in the British magic world...Death Eaters, Voldemort, etc. are completely worthless."

"Harry, please believe me, I have been working hard on this..." Dumbledore said calmly, "but unfortunately...Mr. Alan Harris and I are very stubborn on some issues..."

Harry drooped his head, the knuckles of his fingers turning white as he held the glass.

"Harry, you are very depressed. To be honest, I am not in a better mood than you for making things like this." Dumbledore's fingertips were brought together, which was his habitual action.

"I don't understand, Professor, why can't you and Alan compromise with each other? You both hope that the wizarding world can become better." Harry shook his head. In front of Dumbledore and Alan, it was difficult for him to control himself. Emotions.

"Harry, the wizarding world is used to peace, and the mysterious man wants to see this peace destroyed, and Allen's radical educational reforms are for this peace..." Dumbledore's voice was a little tired, "Harry, your classmate What do you think about it?"

"I don't know...uh...I mean, everyone has all kinds of ideas...For example, Neville is a pure-blood, but he personally supports Alan very much. He thinks Alan is a smart person and makes decisions Very sensible, but he told me that his grandma has always been very opposed to him learning black magic, and also against Alan teaching magic to others, but his grandma has rejected invitations from some pure-blood families...Fleger is of Muggle origin, He is very willing to learn these spells and spells, but he is more resistant, disgusted and afraid of black magic, and he dare not learn it unscrupulously." Harry's eyes flicked across Dumbledore's face, but the headmaster was still so calm With a kind appearance and no attitude, Harry continued: "...After Allen talked about the open knowledge learning channel of the Ravenclaw Temple...Many people seem to be under the pressure of the family...I heard Dean say …even Dean Thomas, his dad kept sending him letters telling him to stay away, his dad was a wizard and his mum was a Muggle, his dad's boss started putting pressure on his staff...not just us, Alan's It's the same in the training class, everyone is confused, but I think, like Malfoy, including some pure blood... most people in the school are more inclined to support Alan."

"Professor Alan Harris's ideas are so seductive to a large portion of our wizarding community that they will jump into them... and from the very beginning are only prone to confrontation and disagreement over countless become more assertive and more engaged in... it's not just dividing the students, it's destabilizing Britain and the wizarding community..." Dumbledore asked Harry, looking over the top of his crescent-shaped spectacles , "Harry, you must be wondering why I, who have been fighting for Muggles and half-blood wizards to gain more rights they should have, have taken a different stance on reforming education?"

"Yes, I don't quite understand, Professor." Harry understood Dumbledore's worry just now, but felt more indescribably confused, as if he was in a fog.

"I will show you a few memories as usual later...Harry, maybe you can understand..." After snapping his fingers and automatically refilling Harry's drink, Dumbledore said seriously, "Leave it alone now These, we have more important things to talk about, Harry, have you finished the homework I assigned last time?"

"Ah," Harry suddenly remembered, because of the Quidditch match, Ron's poisoning, Apparition class and Alan, and caring about Pansy and Snape... plus since the last time he forced Slughorn The other party's defense against him...Dumbledore's question made Harry's heart sink, and he turned his head and didn't dare to look directly into Dumbledore's eyes.

Looking at the Pensieve placed on the table, there are two crystal bottles next to the meditation, which are swirling memories.

Harry responded with a guilty conscience: "Professor, I asked Professor Slughorn several times, so that he was unwilling to talk to me. He was very resistant to recalling that incident, and I have no way to get his memory." .”

There was a moment of silence in the principal's room.

"Oh," Dumbledore stared at Harry over the half-moon glasses, "so you've given up, haven't you? I've noticed that you've started spending all your energy on other things lately..."

"Uh." Harry was at a loss for words, and he didn't know what to say. He found a reason for himself a little ashamed: "Uh...the day Ron took the love potion by mistake, the reason why I brought him to Slug Professor Horn, because I want to take the opportunity to have a chance with Professor Slughorn who refuses to talk to me, I think maybe I can..."

"Did it work?" Dumbledore asked.

"Well, no, Professor... you know, I also poisoned Ron..."

"...Naturally, you then forgot about the memory search, and I didn't expect any other reaction, because your best friend was in danger...But, once it was confirmed that Mr. Weasley would make a full recovery, I thought you'd turn around Doing my homework...but you seem to be preoccupied with other things, like having a hot fight with Miss Weasley?...Harry...I've explained to you how important that memory is, in fact, I've tried to make you realize that It is the most crucial piece of memory, without it, we would just waste time..."

A burning, pinprick of shame spread from the top of Harry's head and through his body. Dumbledore didn't raise his voice, or even speak with anger, but Harry preferred him to yell, the cold disappointment hurt more than anything else.

"Professor," Harry explained a little hopelessly, "it's not that I don't care, I'm just distracted by other... other things..."

"Other things are on your mind," Dumbledore finished for him, "I see."

There was another silence between the two of them, the most embarrassing silence Harry had ever experienced around Dumbledore, and it seemed endless, only occasionally hummed by the portrait of Armando Dippet above Dumbledore's head The snoring interrupted.

Harry had a strange sense of smallness, as if he had shrunk into the room, and he couldn't take it anymore, so he said, "Professor Dumbledore, I'm really sorry... I should have thought that if it wasn't really important, you I'm not going to be asked to do it either... I promise I'll put my heart and soul into getting it later."

"I am very grateful for that, Harry..." Dumbledore stroked his long beard and sighed seeing that Harry was still a bit out of touch, "...Sometimes, if you want to achieve your goals successfully, you must not only It takes hard work, and we need some luck...well...Harry, I think you can go to Professor Snape and ask him for some Felicia, and I'll tell Severus to cooperate with you..."

"Professor, don't bother Snape, I think... oh, I mean don't bother Professor Snape..." Hearing Snape's name, Harry subconsciously shook his head and refused, and then he had a flash of inspiration to remember what he had been doing before. He planned jokingly, "I think... I can borrow Felix Elixir from Hermione. You know, in the first Potions class this year, Professor Slughorn rewarded Hermione with a bottle of Felix Elixir. She shouldn't use it normally..."

"So may I hope that you're going to move this up the agenda?" Bullido looked at Harry through his hooked nose.

"I will, Professor." Harry pursed his lips tightly, and although Dumbledore didn't say anything accusatory, this peaceful disappointment made his heart feel heavier.

"Then we won't talk about it now... Do you remember our last story, Harry?" Dumbledore's tone became a little more friendly, and his hands swept across the Pensieve and memory bottle on the table, " These two memories are very precious, because very few people can provide us with memories of the adult Voldemort... In fact, I doubt at one point whether there is a living person other than himself who can tell us in detail about his departure from Hogwarts later life."

"As you may have guessed, he made it to the seventh grade with the top grades in every exam. The classmates around him are thinking about what career they want to pursue after graduation. Almost all of them think that Tom Riddle will be amazing. He is the prefect, the president of the student union, a top learner, and has received special awards from the school and the Merlin Medal. He is charming and welcomed by most of the students and professors, and he leads a group in the school called Wo The small organization of the Helpers Knights—now they are called Death Eaters..." Dumbledore finished talking about Voldemort's excellence skillfully, took a sip of his drink and continued. "I know that several teachers, including Professor Slughorn, suggested that he enter the Ministry of Magic and offered to introduce him, but he refused all of them... Later the teachers learned that he went to the Borgin-Bock room The black magic shop is working."

Harry was so disturbed by this familiar description that he changed the subject: "Boggin-Bork?"

"I think you still remember what Tom showed in those previous memories... Although the Gaunt family is old, it is no longer helpful to Tom. If he was born in an orphanage and wants to continue to acquire some knowledge after graduation, I don't think so. There is a better place for him than this...I regret that Hogwarts didn't hide a lot of knowledge that was too dangerous at the time..." Dumbledore picked up a small shiny crystal bottle next to the Pensieve, He tapped the bottle with his wand, the cork flew out, and he poured the swirling memory into the Pensieve: "This memory comes from a very old house-elf called Hotkey. Her owner was a An old, very wealthy witch named Hepzibah Smith... After this incident, I managed to get Hokey's memory."

Harry stood up, bent over the rippling silver substance in the stone basin, and entered the memory.

In a richly decorated room, the orange flames at the tips of three candles burning on the candlesticks were jumping happily. Harry found that his sight became much lower, and then he realized that he was passing through the one hidden by the side. point of view of the house-elf looking at something.

"Thank you for the flowers you brought me... How do you know my favorite variety? You spoiled me, an old lady..." An old female voice sounded, with a sense of injustice in her tone, and she held up a shiny and delicate flower A pure white teapot, the tea flowing out turned from colorless to purple immediately after being poured into the cup, exuding a dense mist.

"I've said it hundreds of times... The store has used you too hard, and your pale face is a bit abnormal recently... Just eat something..." A very plump old woman asked the house elf to put A plate of refreshments was placed in front of a young wizard, dressed in a rich mauve and purple robe and an elaborate ginger wig.

Harry guessed this was Mrs. Hepzibah Smith, mistress of the house-elf Hokey.

Hepziba picked up the cup of tea and offered it to the young man opposite him: "What's your excuse for visiting this boring old woman?"

The young man took the tea cup gracefully, and didn't care about the old lady's behavior of touching him. He just leaned his back on the chair and raised his head, but the smile he kept was a little mechanical.

Harry realizes that the young wizard is Voldemort, who has graduated from Hogwarts - now he is Tom Marvolo Riddle, whom he and Harry had met during the Chamber of Secrets incident in the second year The handsome student body president in that notebook has changed a bit, he looks more mature and handsome - his well-groomed black hair is neatly combed to the right, and his cheeks are sunken He wore an indigo shirt, the buttons of which were neatly tied up to the neck, and a dark green single-breasted suit vest that fit his figure outside, showing an old-fashioned pure-blood style in his actions .