Chapter 713: Consider the Feelings of Young People (Sincere Thanks to Leader Jiang Nannan)

(..) "I like to take the subway, so as not to think too much... Oops." Dumbledore suddenly cried out in pain. Harry quickly lowered his head and noticed that Dumbledore's right hand was injured on his arm.

"You don't look very likable, do you?" Dumbledore moved the tips of his four fingers, except for his thumb, which seemed to be burnt or corroded by darkness. Dumbledore murmured: "To be honest, this It's quite a thrilling story. I thought Tom would be more capable than I thought at that age."

"Voldemort?" Harry looked at Dumbledore's expression, but the other party seemed to have no intention of explaining. In order to avoid embarrassment, Harry continued, "By the way, Dumbledore, Mr. Arthur Weasley this year I also invited Allen to be a guest at the Burrow, and Allen agreed. It’s really rare, you know, he hasn’t been there during the summer vacation for several years.”

Dumbledore turned his head and looked at Harry. He smiled and said, "Arthur didn't tell me this. Why did he invite Professor Harris as a guest?"

"Because when Mr. Arthur Weasley was attacked and hospitalized while protecting the Prophecy Ball, it was Alan who took Ron, George, Fred, and Ginny to see him. Plus the twins were in Diagon Alley. The joke shop he opened was also invested by Alan, so Mr. Weasley wanted to invite Alan to his home after he recovered." Harry pondered, he was a little hesitant to ask the doubts in his heart, but in the end he was brave He asked, "Dumbledore, why didn't you let Fox take us to teleport there in the first place? In that case, as long as Mrs. Weasley received the letter, we would be notified, and wouldn't it be regarded as being notified when Mr. Weasley met Mr. Weasley?" We knew it a few seconds after the attack. And the former headmaster of Hogwarts, Delis Derwent, also had a portrait of her in St. Mungo's Hospital in the Headmaster's Office. Mr. Arthur also had a portrait in the Ministry of Magic and the Headmaster's Office. Principal Fula discovered it immediately, why can’t we say they informed us?”

"I'm sorry, Harry. It was my fault. I was thinking about other things and ignored these ways. Like I told you before, the things I did and didn't do were all. It has the shortcomings of older people. Young people don’t know what older people think or how they feel, but if older people forget what it was like when they were young, it will be a big problem That's so wrong...I will try to take this into consideration more in the future." Dumbledore looked at Harry from above the lenses of his half-moon glasses, and said after covering up his worries about Alan's behavior, "But not now. Hold my arm while you tell the story. Do as I say."

Harry grabbed Dumbledore's forearm.

"Very well," said Dumbledore, "Okay, let's go."

Harry couldn't help but cry out at the sudden squeezing feeling, and he felt a darkness swirling around him. When he stopped again, he and Dumbledore had arrived at a courtyard that looked like an abandoned village, with an ancient war monument and several benches erected in the middle.

"Welcome to the beautiful village of Barberton." Dumbledore's kind voice sounded, and Harry quickly followed Dumbledore's steps.

"Harry, I guess now you are wondering why I brought you here, right?" Dumbledore asked.

"Honestly, after all these years, I almost don't want to think about it anymore." Harry shook his head and shrugged.

They passed through empty taverns and a few houses and approached a neat little stone house in a garden. Dumbledore looked towards the carefully maintained path, his heart sank suddenly. The hinge of the front door was opened, and the door hung crookedly.

"Harry, pull out your wand." Dumbledore whispered, "Lumos." The tip of Dumbledore's wand lit up, illuminating a narrow doorway. He and Harry walked into the living room with their shining wands raised high. They saw a mess in front of them: a grandfather clock was broken at their feet, the clock face was cracked, and the pendulum lay a little further away, like a Abandoned sword. A piano was overturned on the ground, keys scattered everywhere. Nearby, fragments of a shattered chandelier shone. The cushions were scattered everywhere and were shriveled, with feathers poking out of the cracks. Broken glass and shards of porcelain were scattered all over the floor like powder.

"Horace?" Dumbledore called softly.

Harry saw the same "Daily Prophet" he had seen before scattered on the floor. One of them had a picture of him and Alan, and the big bold title read "Who is the real savior". At this moment, a drop of red blood dripped. Harry looked up and saw a large blood stain on the ceiling. Harry's eyes widened in horror. It was hard for him to imagine how seriously injured a person must be to have those blood stains so high on the wall.

Another drop of blood fell on Harry's forehead. Harry raised his hand to wipe it, but Dumbledore was one step ahead of him. He dipped his middle finger into the blood on Harry's forehead and gently put it into his mouth. His eyes looked towards a bulging single sofa standing on the ground.

His expression became relaxed, even a little naughty, and he led Harry slowly closer to the chair. Soon after, Dumbledore suddenly took action and plunged the tip of his wand into the back of the bulging single sofa. , the head of a fat, bald old man suddenly popped out from the top of the chair back and shouted in pain: "Merlin's beard!"

In the blink of an eye, the single sofa turned into a chubby old man standing there with a big belly, complaining: "You don't have to expose me, Albus."

"I have to say, your sofa has become quite a success, Horace." Dumbledore couldn't help but laugh.

The light from the wand in his hand illuminated the glaring bald head, bulging eyes, and thick double chin of the man in front of him, as well as his vertically striped velvet light blue pajamas. The top of his head only reached Dumbledore's chin.

"It's all done on the outside, but the inside is natural. Where did I reveal my secret?" he asked gruffly.

Dumbledore pointed his wand back: "Dragon's blood."

"Oh..." Horace Slughorn suddenly realized.

"By the way, let me introduce you, Harry, to meet my old friend and colleague, Professor Horace Slughorn."

"I know who he is." The old man's round eyes looked at Harry's forehead and the lightning-shaped scar on his forehead, "Harry Potter."

He walked to the door, leaned down, and locked the door carefully.

"What's the matter with your room being so staged, Horace?" Dumbledore asked, "You're not waiting for other guests, are you?"

Slughorn locked the door and turned around, "Guest? I don't know what you mean. Well, the Death Eaters have been trying to recruit me for more than a year. Do you know what those days are like? I can't refuse too much." Many times, so I couldn't last more than a week in any one place," Slughorn muttered, frowning.

Dumbledore asked curiously: "Why don't you go to the Ministry of Magic for help? You know, they have done a good job in protecting the wizarding world recently. The situation is much better than during the First Wizarding War."

"I have rejected recruitment by the Harris family's umbrella company many times before..." Slughorn looked regretful, "How could I know that they could really drive away Tom... And you know, if he is sincere You want to catch me, but I can't place my hopes on that alarm... My situation is different from that of ordinary wizards..."

"The Muggle owner went on vacation to the Canary Islands." Slughorn then leaned close to Dumbledore and whispered in a low voice, "Albus, the recent speech by the Minister of Magic, and Alan Harry Si’s quarrel with Babajide Akinba, the president of the International Federation of Wizards... You must know their family’s background, aren’t you worried?”

"I think Harris was just taking the opportunity to get a good name, and he succeeded in doing so, and as long as they can maintain that, I'm happy to have my people support them. But thank you for the reminder, Horace. I will pay close attention to it later. The current confrontation between the British Ministry of Magic and the International Federation of Wizards is not a good thing... But now..." Dumbledore put his hand on Harry's shoulder, and then turned to look at the chaotic scene. , suggested, "I think we'd better clean up this place, don't mind."

Letting go of Harry, the fifteen-inch-long elderwood wand in Dumbledore's hand drew a flat semicircle forward. The broken silver picture frame that was scattered on the ground flew to the other end of the room and landed on a desk, becoming as bright as new again. The chandelier returns to the top of the ceiling. The furniture jumped back to its original position one by one, and the decorations returned to their original shape in mid-air. Everything became in order, the broken and torn places in the room were restored to their original appearance, the stains on the walls were automatically wiped clean, and the room became warm and comfortable.

The three of them relaxed at the sight of the bright and clean room again.

"That's really interesting. Do you mind if I use the bathroom?" Dumbledore looked at Slughorn and asked, but Slughorn's eyes were fixed on Harry at this time. "Of course I don't mind."

Dumbledore walked toward the bathroom.

"Don't think I don't know why you came, Albus, the answer is still no, definitely and definitely no." Slughorn said harshly, all the wrinkles on his forehead raised, and his tone was very firm. After he shouted at Dumbledore's back, he smiled again when he saw Harry looking at him, "You look a lot like your father."

Slughorn nodded to confirm his opinion, "Except for these eyes, it looks like..." Slughorn's tone was slightly sad.

"My mother's eyes, I know," Harry continued. Harry heard this so many times that he felt a little tired of it.

"Lily, smart Lily, your mother is very smart." Slughorn seemed to be lost in memories, "If you consider that she is still a Muggle, it is even more amazing."

"Excluding Ellen, the most outstanding witch in our year is a Muggle," Harry said.

"Please don't think that I am biased, absolutely not." Slughorn seemed to be afraid of Harry's misunderstanding and quickly approached Harry, "Your mother is definitely one of my favorite students. Look, she is right there. ." He pointed to the many shiny picture frames on the cabinet, each of which contained an active wizard.

"Front row," Slughorn added.

"They are all my former students. Do you recognize Barnabas Guffey? He is the editor-in-chief of the Daily Prophet." Slughorn and Harry walked to the cabinet. Slughorn The wizard's tone when introducing these photos was like an enthusiastic collector introducing his beloved collection to a guest, "If he has any thoughts on the news of the day, I can send an owl to carry a message to him. Gwenog Jones, captain of the Holyhead Harpies, an all-female Quidditch team in the British and Irish Quidditch League, gets free tickets whenever I want. Naturally , I haven't watched a game for a long time." The smile on Slughorn's face suddenly disappeared, just like the blood stains on the wall just now.

"Oh, by the way, Regulus Black, you must be familiar with his brother Sirius." Seeing Harry pick up the photo in his hand, Slughorn introduced, "The entire Black family is from my college. Except for Sirius. Regulus is a very talented boy and I have taken a liking to him since he came. Of course, it would be even better if we have brothers together."

"Horace," Dumbledore re-entered the room and raised a Muggle magazine in his hand, "Do you mind if I take this with you?"

Harry, who didn't know how to respond, quickly walked over to Dumbledore. Dumbledore held up the magazine and said to Slughorn, who looked a little surprised: "I like these knitted styles very much."

"Of course you'll take it, but you won't leave now, will you?" Slughorn looked very uneasy and asked in surprise.

"It's a done deal. I still know that. It's such a pity. If I could persuade you to go back to Hogwarts with me, I would be honored. You, like Potter, are hard to come by. Okay, goodbye." With that, Dumbledore left without any regrets. Slughorn stood in the room looking a little at a loss. When Dumbledore and the others reached the door at the end of the garden path, they heard a shout from behind, "Okay, I agree."

Harry turned around and saw Slughorn standing panting in the doorway of the living room. "I want Professor Mellors's old office. My old one looks like a toilet. I also want a raise. There are a lot of crazy things happening these days." Slughorn kept raising his hand to express his strong request.

"It's indeed quite a lot." Dumbledore said in a low voice and took Harry out.

"Professor, what happened just now?" Harry asked as he walked on the deserted street.

"You have talent, fame, power, everything Horace would value. Professor Slughorn will want to take you under his wing. Harry, you will be the brightest of all his disciples - don't be so mean." Confidence Harry, Allen's situation is different from others. You also have your own shining points, and according to Allen's character, he should not become Horace's disciple. It is because of you that he returned to Hogwarts. To us It's also important for him to come back." After Dumbledore explained to Harry, he seemed a little hesitant, "So Harry, will you go to the course offered by Alan next year?"

"I'm not 100% sure yet, but I think I might, Dumbledore, Allen said that magic itself is neither good nor bad. If there is a need to use those not-so-good magics to protect and save people, They are good magic, and if the ordinary spells we usually use are used for evil, then wouldn't they be bad magic?" Harry hesitated again and then carefully whispered back to the greatest white wizard. He did not say what he had never said before. Rita Skeeter learned from the reports that Dumbledore himself was proficient in black magic in his early years. Harry, who avoided these sensitive topics, looked at the silent headmaster after finishing speaking, and asked with some anxiety, "Dumbledore was also proficient in black magic in his early years." Lido...did I disappoint you?"

"No, Harry, I will not be angry with you because of your choice. In fact, I am very happy that you can think about these issues independently now." Dumbledore relieved Harry kindly, and then added, "I The conflict with Allen stems from this difference in concept, kid, I just think that if a few of us do well enough, then most other people don't have to learn these dangerous spells on their own - even me, I also committed irreparable sins in my early years because I was addicted to it, so I hope that just like the Ministry of Magic is doing now, they will do a good job in protecting wizards, and ordinary wizards will not have to risk themselves to protect themselves. To be safe, Harry, I don't want anyone to repeat the mistakes I made in this matter, I just want to protect other people, as long as a small number of us endure this, the majority of people will not have to endure it."

Harry was obviously relieved by Dumbledore's words. UU Readingｗｗw.uukａnshu.net He solemnly promised Dumbledore: "Alan also hopes that I can think independently. Dumbledore, before making the final decision, I will give more thought to this matter.”

"That's for the best, Harry. I'll take you directly back to the Burrow now." Dumbledore said and raised his arm.

"But Professor, what should I do with my luggage and Hedwig?" Harry asked quickly.

"We're all waiting for you."

Harry put his hand on Dumbledore's arm. When he regained control of his body, he found that Dumbledore had disappeared. The muddy water splashed under his feet had completely wet his trouser legs. He looked down at his muddy trouser legs and couldn't help but murmured in a low voice. : "Didn't you say that we should consider the feelings of young people..."

Harry raised his feet and stepped out of the pond.

The lights of the Burrow in the distance looked so bright and warm in the darkness. Harry looked at the Burrow and saw the figure of the girl he missed reflected in a window. She was sitting on the protruding bay window of the Burrow. Harry couldn't help but smile on his face. The appearance of his sweetheart made him forget The mud on his legs.