Chapter 328 Memory

wild hunt.

Dumbledore pushed back his glasses.

He is no stranger to this word - in the legends of Great Britain, there is also a legend called "wild hunting", hounds, ghost-like knights, they come with the sound of horns, bringing death and war, encountering wild hunting people will be killed by them and become one of them.

"Our world also had legends of wild hunting." Dumbledore said softly.

Geralt and Yennefer looked over.

Harry looked sideways too.

He rarely reads this kind of irrelevant folklore stories, and Hermione is usually in charge of this kind of intelligence gathering work, such as "Wild Hunt" with Voldemort, with the Three Hallows, and even with any possible The unrelated legend of the legendary item obtained by Voldemort, of course, has never been mentioned.

Dumbledore continued: "In a book called "The Peterborough Chronicle", it was recorded that there was a wild hunt in Great Britain more than 800 years ago. It lasted for two months. Tall and in black armor, even their dogs are black."

"There were also some wizards who fought the Wild Hunt, they were powerful, but they were driven out before Easter."

Having said that, he paused.

"In that book, it is also recorded that the winter of that year came earlier, but war and famine have been shrouded in the land of Great Britain, and no one pays attention to this vision."

"Now it seems that the frost and snow that arrived earlier may have been brought by the wild hunting."

Harry murmured, "Wild Hunt came more than eight hundred years ago?"

Dumbledore shook his head: "I'm afraid it's more than that."

"The legend of the wild hunt is also very old, almost in the same period as King Arthur."

"And for thousands of years, it has happened from time to time—"

"It's a pity that Nico has passed away, otherwise we can still ask him for advice. He has lived long enough to even see it with his own eyes."

Harry rubbed his head: "Siri also came to this world during King Arthur's time."

"She met Galahad."

"Has Godric ever told you?"

Dumbledore shook his head: "Godric doesn't trust me as much as you do. He favors you as the heir too much. Obviously, I am also an excellent Gryffindor."

"Did Ciri leave anything in this world?" Geralt asked.

Harry nodded: "Yes, wait until Hogwarts, I will take you there."

They agreed and chatted.

In the sky, there was a buzzing, accompanied by a beam of bright, gathered light flying.

Geralt drew his sword cautiously.

"Relax, that's my horse," Harry said.

horse?

Can fly?

Geralt put away his sword and watched with great interest—no witcher could refuse a flying horse.

The Sorting Hat fell to the ground, followed by a motorcycle spouting griffins and "Number One of Gryffindor".

"Are these horses from this world?" Geralt looked at them. "They look very charming."

The Sorting Hat muttered, "Hey, I'm not a horse."

"I'm the greatest hat in the world, and the greatest motorcycle."

"Harry, it's a real hassle for you to send a motorbike over here on a motorbike."

Harry looked at the one: "Why did you come here on such a motorcycle?"

"I think it is the most pleasing to the eye." The Sorting Hat replied confidently.

Harry sighed and patted the dashboard: "You will take Geralt and Yennefer with you later."

"Let's go back to Hogwarts."

Geralt looked at these two motorcycles, which were not tall or even fancy, and felt a little at a loss: "How should I ride them, just like riding a horse?"

"It's not like riding a horse." The Sorting Hat trotted over, "Just sit on it, I will ride myself."

Harry had already stepped onto the fancy painted motorcycle. Dumbledore didn't rush to sit on it. He waved his wand, conjured up a sidecar, and stuffed the heavily tied Bella into it. Then he sat on it.

Geralt followed Harry and sat in front.

Yennefer also sat up and naturally hugged Geralt's waist.

"Let's go!" The Sorting Hat shouted cheerfully, "That white-haired man, what's your name?"

"Geralt."

"Geralt, just hold the handle, don't make any movements, and don't twist the handle."

"Of course, you can try flicking that blue switch."

blue switch?

Geralt reached out and poked it.

A spell covering the motorcycle failed, and a huge, violent wind blew right away, making it hard for him to keep his eyes open.

"How?" The Sorting Hat smiled.

Geralt remembered the position just now, and turned the switch back. The magic took effect immediately, and the barrier gushed out again, blocking the strong wind.

"I almost thought I was going to fall." He smiled and shook his head.

"What is your relationship with Harry?" The Sorting Hat asked curiously, "The ancestor of the Potter family? You have the same eyes as him."

"The Potter family seems to have been studying at Hogwarts, but I haven't seen you."

Geralt said succinctly: "Harry would introduce me if he could."

The Sorting Hat muttered, "Okay, okay."

It's not too far from Malfoy's house to Hogwarts.

Half an hour later, they saw the magnificent castle by the lake.

Geralt's eyes darkened.

castle

What a familiar building.

They shuttled between the towers, and soon entered a room through a huge window - in order to facilitate the sorting hat to go out with Godric's portrait, Dumbledore specially converted the window of his office into a huge floor-to-ceiling window .

Get off the motorcycle.

Dumbledore waved his wand: "Would you like something to drink?"

"Just a beer," Geralt said.

Ye Naifa waved his hand: "A glass of water."

Without Dumbledore casting a spell, the drink they wanted appeared on the table immediately.

"Butterbeer, I don't know if you like it or not." Dumbledore invited them to sit down. "Harry doesn't like it very much. He prefers whiskey or brandy."

Geralt tried a sip.

With a hint of toffee flavor, it has a buttery rich taste, but it is very refreshing to drink.

"Ye, you should like it, would you like to try it?" Geralt handed her the cup.

Harry didn't sit down.

With a flick of his wand, the Pensieve flew out of the cabinet, conjuring a stool to catch the huge stone basin.

"Want to come and have a look together?" Harry extended an invitation to them while taking out the bottle containing memories.

All three of them stood up again.

The Sorting Hat thought back into the hat, and muttered in a low voice: "Dip me in it, can you see it too?"

"I don't think so." Harry shook his head, putting the memory in. "And you're too big."

"Just bury your head in it." He raised his head and explained how to use it to Geralt and Yennefer.

He took a deep breath and buried his head in first.

Dumbledore followed suit.

The two of them looked at each other and buried their heads in it.

Face touches the liquid in the Pensieve, and there is a great pull from it, cold and black, swaying in a swirl.

The four of them landed quickly.

They appeared in an empty, but lavishly decorated bedroom, with two people in the room - Bellatrix and Voldemort, obviously.

"This is Bellatrix's memory, they can't find us." Just as Geralt was about to cast Quinn and draw out the sword in the lake, Harry stopped him and explained in a low voice, "This is the past that has already happened." what happened."

Voldemort lay on the bed like a baby, and Bellatrix confessed his last words.

Harry listened, circling the room.

Bellatrix didn't have a deep impression of this room, many places were blurred, and only a few pieces of paper contained text.

Deathly Hallows, Avalon, Potter.

Some things that they knew might be useful before, but for them now, they don't have any effect.

Voldemort finished his account of calling Rodolphus.

After saying "If Severus is a traitor, try everything to kill him", a milky white mist suddenly surged in his memory.

"What's going on?" Geralt asked in surprise.

Harry frowned: "This memory has been destroyed, we'll see if we can fix it later."

soon.

The white mist receded.

Bellatrix reappeared, and Voldemort had taken on the body of Rodolphus.

He waved his hands: "My dear Bella. "

"Are you ready to give everything for me?"

Bella responded gently, but opened the cabinet and grabbed a book in the cabinet.

She was hooked by the Portkey.

In a swirl of memory, they were teleported along with Bellatrix.

Came to a manor.

In the room, there was only a thin but tall man with a pale face.

"Barty Crouch Jr." Harry said softly, his eyes deep.

Two years had passed since the fourth grade, and this was the first time he had seen this person with his own eyes.

"Bella, why are you here?" Crouch was surprised, with a gloomy face, "I still used the Portkey."

"Potter and Dumbledore found Malfoy Manor." Bellatrix said in a sad tone, "Narcissa, my dear sister has become a despicable traitor, run away and take the master's treasure."

"Father's order?" Crouch stood up.

Bellatrix nodded: "Yes, Master's order."

"He wants you to escape. It's best to escape far away from Great Britain and look for something to resurrect the master and make the master stronger in other places."

Crouch clenched his fists, humiliated on his face: "Where is the new memory of father?"

"There's no time to get the memory out." Bellatrix shook her head. "The master just possessed Rodolphus's body, and they broke into the manor. I had to come here to remind you, otherwise I couldn't leave there."

Harry narrowed his eyes.

"But the master has some explanations." Bellatrix continued softly, "Harry received a gift of knowledge from another world."

"Go find clues to the Wild Hunt."

"Beside him, there are new helpers, Yennefer and Geralt."

"Geralt is a white-haired man with power comparable to Harry, who can't do magic."

"And Yennefer, a witch who is almost as powerful as Severus."

"But the power of the Wild Hunt is stronger than all of them. Go find the Wild Hunt and use their strength."

Speaking of which, Bellatrix paused and said seriously, "Try to trust Severus."

"The master knows that he will help Dumbledore and Potter to deliver some news about us, but he has already been branded with the brand of the master, and will always be a member of the Death Eaters, and he will only be a Death Eater in the end."

Crouch nodded: "I see."

"So where do you think we should go now?"

Bellatrix shook her head, "No, it's you."

"Barty, you are the master's godson, the last hope of the Death Eaters"

"I will always be by my master's side."

They lifted their feet, walked out of the house, walked up the stairs, walked to the entrance of the basement, opened layers of magic barriers, and finally walked in.

In the house, there are two things.

Two tattered cans and a key.

Crouch grabbed the key and put it in his pocket. After identifying the two soda cans, he put his hand on one of them. The Portkey activated and disappeared with him.

Bellatrix grabbed another can and went back to Malfoy Manor.

"That's all we need to know for the time being." Harry said, grabbing Yennefer with one hand and Geralt with the other, looking up - the floor slowly moved away from their feet, but soon there was another step Feeling real, they pulled their heads out of the Pensieve and went back into the office.

"Is Voldemort's last Horcrux a key?" Dumbledore was a little surprised.

"Do you think that memory can be trusted?" Harry shook his head, stretched out his wand, pulled Bellatrix who was still in the sidecar, and put it at Dumbledore's feet, "See if she has any memory Be tampered with."

The two of them checked carefully.

"The conversation in the middle was violently destroyed, and there is no way to repair it." Dumbledore shook his head.

"There are traces of memory modification, but I can't tell which part it is." Harry frowned, threw Bellatrix to the ground, and added a sleeping spell by the way, "Bellatrix Probably went to see Crouch, but something else."

The highest level of deception is to mix lies with truth.

Voldemort is very good at this. He has a brain, and he is best at playing with people's hearts. It is a shameful thing to tell an old woman, but it is a skill that makes those who are mature and have experienced many things willingly Spitting out one's greatest secret is not something that only a handsome face can do.

Memories are not entirely false.

Regardless of Harry's cognition of Voldemort or the analysis of magic detection, they all illustrate this point.

But the question is, which ones are real and which ones are fake.

"I noticed out the window just now, the terrain should be obvious?" Geralt sat down.

"It's in the southeast of Great Britain." Harry nodded, "But the arrangement in the room is a bit inconsistent. Have you noticed a dresser?"

"Barty Crouch is a man."

Geralt mused, "Do the men here not wear make-up?"

"The external environment may be true, but the house is definitely not that house." Harry analyzed, "And those words, looking for the wild hunt may not be fake."

"Whichever Voldemort comes back to life is hungry for power."

Harry looked up and looked at Dumbledore: "If he is going to find the Wild Hunt, where is he most likely to go?"

Dumbledore thought for a while: "The Germanic region."

"It's the area with the most records and the most wild hunting occurrences."