Chapter 204 Dumbledore’s Help

After a while, the weather became darker, and the light was blocked by thick clouds, and only sporadic strands could be revealed.

The biting wind blew up, carrying snowflakes and blowing on the body. It was so cold that it hurt. The little wizards who were taking a breather outside the castle quickly poured into the foyer.

At this moment, Neville stumbled against the flow of people and ran to Loren, with a frightened look on his face. He pointed at the third floor with trembling fingers, and his trembling voice was filled with tears: "Third, third floor, Justin has been arrested." Petrified, Harry was there—"

Before he finished speaking, Ron had already rushed out, and Hermione grabbed Loren's hand and ran towards the castle.

Loren mourned for Harry while running. It was better now, even if he fell into the black lake, he would not be able to wash it away.

This is a corridor on the third floor. The light here is extremely dim, like night. A piece of window glass is loose, the howling wind blows in, and there are some sparks left on the extinguished torches.

Justin Finch-Fletchley lay on the floor, his body cold and stiff, a look of horror fixed on his face, and his eyes staring blankly at the ceiling.

Next to him was Nick, who was almost headless. His ghostly body was no longer transparent white with a faint light, but became completely black and filled with smoke. Lying motionless, suspended six inches above the ground. His head hung in the air, connected by stiff skin and muscles, with the same frightened expression on his face as Justin.

Harry stood aside helplessly, his mouth half open, as if he wanted to say something.

There were little wizards all around, and they looked at Harry with strange eyes. When Harry wanted to explain to them, they avoided him in horror, not daring to look at him.

Loren and the others pushed through the crowd and came to Harry's side.

In sharp contrast to the noisy discussion in the outer circle, there was silence in the inner circle. They looked at Justin with pity and looked at Harry with strange eyes. They were careful not to make a sound for fear of attracting Harry's attention. The next victim might be one of them.

"Harry." Ron called. He wanted to say something, but nothing came out.

Hearing his friend's call, the absent-minded Harry's eyes slowly focused. This time was different from the past. Only he and the "body" were found, and no one could prove his innocence.

As if he had caught a savior, Harry explained to his friends with hope and pleading: "It's not me, it's not me. I want to make it clear to Justin. I heard some uncomfortable words in the library. I want to be alone." I took some time to relax and ended up here unknowingly. At that time, they were already like this. Believe me..."

His breathing was rapid and his heart was beating wildly, like a small drum beating in his chest. The sound was loud enough that several people nearby could hear it.

"Harry, calm down, don't be anxious, we believe you." Loren patted his shoulder, trying to ease his anxiety, "Dumbledore will believe you too."

"Yes Harry, we believe you..."

The expressions of Hermione, Ron, Seamus, and Neville made Harry slowly calm down, and the small drum in his chest also calmed down.

"Quiet!"

Professor McGonagall's loud voice echoed throughout the corridor. She led several professors to separate the crowd and walked out from the back, looking at Justin lying on the ground with pity.

She turned her head and looked seriously at the growing crowd, pursed her lips and said, "Go back to the classroom!"

Although Professor McGonagall didn't look at him, Harry felt much more at ease.

The little wizards were reluctant but did not dare to openly disobey Professor McGonagall's orders. They moved slowly and looked at Justin and Harry eagerly.

Seeing their lukewarm footsteps, Professor McGonagall waved her wand and made an explosion like a drum in the air. She repeated again: "Go back to the classroom! Now!"

This time, the steps of the little wizards were much more agile. When the crowd had almost dispersed, Hufflepuff's Ernie Macmillan rushed to the scene out of breath. He pointed at Harry and shouted loudly: "Caught on the spot." !”

Harry's breathing began to quicken, he felt his blood rushing up, and his brain was congested.

Just now in the library, it was Ernie MacMillan who was slandering him, and those angry words are still in my ears:

"No one knows how he escaped death when he was attacked by a mysterious man. When that incident happened, he was just a baby. He should have been blown into pieces. Only a dark wizard with infinite power can To escape a spell like that.”

"Harry Potter is the same dark wizard as You-Know-Who, so You-Know-Who wants to kill him. He doesn't want another "devil" to appear to compete with him."

"He's a Parseltongue. What decent wizard can talk to snakes?"

…

Line by line, those dirty speculations were all uttered by Ernie MacMillan. At a certain moment, Harry hoped that it was this Ernie who was petrified by the basilisk.

Professor McGonagall yelled sternly: "That's enough, go back to the classroom!"

Ernie wanted to say a few more words, but after meeting Harry's eyes, he suppressed all his words and turned around to leave dejectedly.

Professor Flitwick and Professor Sinister from the Department of Astronomy took Justin to the school doctor's office. Apart from Harry and Professor McGonagall, only Loren, Hermione and Ron were left here.

"Professor," Harry said with difficulty, "I swear I didn't—"

"I have no control over this matter, Potter!" Professor McGonagall complained fiercely in her heart to the principal of an unknown magic school.

But when she lowered her head and saw Harry's pitiful appearance, she couldn't help but feel soft. She reached out and touched Harry's hair and said softly, "I know it's not you."

Harry's eyes turned red and he nodded silently.

Professor McGonagall sighed and turned to look at the three people who were unwilling to leave. She turned her wand in a circle and conjured a large fan out of thin air.

Professor McGonagall handed the fan to Loren: "I'll take Harry to the principal, and you fan Nick upstairs."

After saying that, she took Harry and left, leaving Loren, Hermione and Ron looking at each other.

The three of them took turns fanning themselves and slowly walked upstairs. Nick has no physical body, and even if he is petrified, there is no way to move him. But being able to fan him with a fan is too contradictory.

"Since there is no entity, why can the wind blow him?" Loren looked at Nico who was almost headless after being petrified, and he was a little puzzled.

"If there is no entity, why can't the wind blow him?" Ron asked with a puzzled look on his face, as if it was a matter of course that the wind could blow the ghost.

Loren felt aggrieved for a while, and finally had no choice but to accept this reality. After all, that's how unreasonable magic is.

Hermione had not participated in the conversation. She lowered her head and thought about what had just happened: "Do you think Professor McGonagall knew something? I mean, she didn't panic or worry when she saw Justin, and she believed him unconditionally. profit."

Ron was also thoughtful: "Dumbledore's attitude was also very strange. He was right next to Rolf when he was talking to us, and he interrupted us to continue. He seemed to know more or less about our actions. Some, but it didn’t stop us.”

Loren couldn't help but click his tongue, no one is stupid. Dumbledore's behavior and attitude itself are information that can be interpreted. According to the current progress, the Basilisk will be solved soon.

Harry followed Professor McGonagall to the huge and ugly stone monster, opened the passage with the command "lemon ice cream", and went up the spiral staircase until he came to a gleaming oak door with a lion on it. Brass door knocker in the shape of a harpy.

"Wait outside for now. I have something to talk to Principal Dumbledore!" After Professor McGonagall finished speaking, she pushed the door open and went in.

Harry blinked, wondering if it was an illusion. He felt that Professor McGonagall was taking a tough stance, as if he was questioning Principal Dumbledore.

Harry swore he hadn't meant to eavesdrop, but the oak door wasn't closed tightly and some sounds escaped through the cracks.

Professor McGonagall's voice was very clear, and the anger in her words could be heard:

"Headmaster! Headmaster Dumbledore! What on earth are you thinking!"

"It's been almost two months since Halloween, how long do you want to delay..."

In contrast, Dumbledore's response was very mild, and Harry could only hear some small sounds but could not clearly understand the content.

"Do you know how many letters have been sent from parents of students! If this continues, the school will be closed!"

Hearing this, Harry's heart skipped a beat. He was really concerned about whether the school would be suspended, so he couldn't help but sneak in quietly and hide behind a shelf to eavesdrop.

Standing here, you can see that there is another cubicle in the office. There is a shallow stone basin placed in the cubicle, with mysterious runes carved on the edge of the basin. Harry had seen similar lines in the books Loren was looking at, which seemed to be a type of writing called runes.

"Oh, Minerva, don't worry..."

Dumbledore's voice was still vague and unclear.

Just when Harry pricked up his ears and wanted to get closer, he saw something. On a shelf was a tattered, wrinkled wizard's hat - the Sorting Hat.

For a moment, many images flashed through Harry's mind.

On the Hogwarts Express, Malfoy and his followers wanted to get to know him... At the sorting banquet, the Sorting Hat was chirping about sorting him into Slytherin... when the little wizards discovered that he was a Parseltongue. Surprised, Hermione said this was a unique ability of Slytherin...

The idea of ​​wearing the Sorting Hat again came to Harry's mind, and he wanted to talk to the Sorting Hat.

He hesitated for a moment, then raised his head and glanced warily at the portraits of previous principals on the surrounding walls. To his surprise, these portraits were all flipped upside down on the wall, and no one would notice him.

Harry picked up the hat on the shelf and slowly put it on his head. The hat was too big and slid down to cover his eyes.

A little voice sounded in his ear, no, in his head: "Is there something you can't figure out, Harry Potter?"

Before Harry could speak, the Sorting Hat's voice sounded again: "You want to know if I placed you in the right house? Yes... it's not easy to place you in the right house, but I still stick to my original statement - —”

"You're a good fit, Slytherin."

Harry's heart began to beat violently, and he felt sick. He grabbed the top of the hat and pulled it off.

The violent movement hit the gold-encrusted perch at the door. The old Fawkes suffered an unthinkable disaster. The phoenix, which had lost all its feathers, fell from the perch. It looked at Harry with a sad look and said something like it was about to die. , a strangled moan.

Putting the Sorting Hat back on the shelf, Harry panicked and tried to pick up Fawkes. But before he could get closer, the bird had turned into a ball of fire. It screamed, and the flames quickly extinguished after rising, leaving only a pile of ashes on the floor that had not been completely extinguished.

Harry's mind went blank. It was over, it was really over. The matter of manipulating the basilisk to attack his classmates was not yet clear, and he had to add another debt for killing Fox.

Turning his head, Dumbledore had appeared behind the shelf, looking at the pile of ashes with a strange look.

Harry could no longer bear the pressure in his heart and cried out: "Principal Dumbledore, I, I didn't mean it... I couldn't help it, Fawkes fell to the ground and suddenly caught fire..."

Seeing Harry's miserable state, Dumbledore pursed his lips, but he couldn't hold it back and laughed softly.

The headmaster's laughter grew louder and Harry's cries grew quieter. Finally, Harry stopped crying and looked at Dumbledore in shock.

Dumbledore shook his head and said gently: "Fawkes is a phoenix, Harry. When the phoenix is ​​about to die, it will burn itself and then regenerate from the ashes. You look at it..."

Harry lowered his head, just in time to see a small, wrinkled, featherless chick poking its head out of the ashes.

It's really, really ugly.

Sensing Harry's rude look, the reborn Fawkes squeaked and cursed. Although I don't understand it, judging from the tone of voice, it should be very unpleasant.

"It also knows that this appearance is not good-looking, and it is dragging its feet on Nirvana. Last time I asked Scamander to bring a letter to his grandfather, Mr. Newt, just to get some potions to help Fox achieve Nirvana." Dumbledore quoted Harry sat down at the table.

Professor McGonagall was gone. She probably left when Harry was wearing the Sorting Hat.

Harry looked back at Fox and remembered the purpose of his coming here: "Professor, I...do you believe it's not me?"

The voice of the Sorting Hat came out of my head again, "You are very suitable, Slytherin!"

Sometimes, Harry himself would doubt whether he was really the heir of Slytherin.

"Yes, Harry, I don't think so." Dumbledore looked at him carefully, the tips of his ten slender fingers touching together, "More importantly, Harry, I need your help."

"help?"

"Yes, some people on the school board are not satisfied with the results achieved by Minerva. They want to use this matter to put pressure on me to turn Hogwarts into what they want." Dumbledore paused. , "Minerva and I both want to find out the truth about the basilisk as soon as possible, but we are too conspicuous. The heir hidden in the castle is guarding every professor, and we can't find any useful clues."

Harry reacted belatedly and pointed at himself in disbelief: "So, me?"

Dumbledore nodded, then shook his head: "It's not you, it's you. I want to ask you to find out the heir or the location of the secret room as soon as possible, and leave the rest to the professors."

"Professor, we have been doing this, but..." Harry looked downcast.

Hagrid, Malfoy, himself...it was a tangled mess of things and people that he couldn't make sense of. Relying on Polyjuice Potion to get information about Malfoy, he was not sure that he would be able to find out the truth.

"I think I might be able to provide some modest help." Dumbledore stood up and entered the compartment, picked up the stone basin and walked to the table, placing it on the smooth surface. "Here are some clues about the last time in the secret room. of opening.”

Harry saw the contents of the pensieve. He couldn't tell whether it was a liquid or a gas. It looked like a piece of bright silver, but it was constantly flowing, like water ripples in the breeze, and drifting away like clouds. Spin gently. It is light that becomes liquid, and it is like wind that becomes solid.

"What is this?" Harry asked.

"It's called the Pensieve. You know, I'm too old and have too many thoughts and memories stuffed into my head. When I want to use these contents, I can't put them out as quickly as I could when I was younger. They’re all turned inside out.”

Dumbledore pointed to the stone basin and said, "At this time, I will use the Pensieve to suck out the excess content from my mind and pour it into this basin. I will take a good look at it when I have time. You know, in this state It's easier to see their shapes and connections with each other."

"This is your thoughts and memories!?" Harry exclaimed, staring.

"Yes," Dumbledore took out his wand, inserted the tip of the wand into his silver hair, approached his temple, and pulled out a strand of silver-white substance.

"Let's look at what happened back then."