At nine o'clock in the morning after Ryan's engagement, two blue birds flew to Ryan's place with parchment letters larger than them, just as Ryan, who had dropped his parents off the plane back to Qiantang the previous night, had just gotten out of bed.

"Hermione, before us. The results of the LS exam are out. Ryan shouted to Hermione, who was cleaning up in the bathroom.

"What? Oh, it's finally here, I hope I did well this time. The amount of time it takes to get through customs is a bit of a hurry, and if we were in the UK, I think we would have received it a week ago. Hermione walked out of the bathroom as she wiped her wet face with a dry towel.

After eagerly tearing open the envelope, the two men took out the letter and read it. They received 10 distinctions in their exams, as expected, which means they can choose the courses they had planned to take this year.

"I just don't know what happened to my friends. After reading the test results, Hermione nodded in satisfaction and asked Ryan. "What do you think Harry are doing now?"

"I don't know anyone else, but I guess Harry must have a lot to do, after all, as a designated savior. The holidays certainly didn't stop him busy, and maybe Professor Dumbledore took him out on an adventure. "Ryan spoiler.

In fact, a week earlier, Headmaster Dumbledore had gone to Privet Road to free Harry from his uncle's house, and after delivering Harry's luggage to the Burrow, Dumbledore and Harry's retinue had appeared in the courtyard of an abandoned village, with an old war memorial and several benches erected in the middle of the field.

After following Professor Dumbledore for a while, past an empty tavern and a few houses, Harry finally asked with a question in his heart, "Well, Professor, where the hell are we, and what are we going to do?"

"This is the charming village of Badley Barberton, Harry. "Dumbledore walked ahead, turned a street corner, passed a phone booth and a bus shelter. "Well, as you can see, we are short of professors every year. So now we're here to convince a retired colleague of mine to get back to work and come back to Hogwarts. As for the reason for calling you over, you'll find out in a moment. ”

Harari and Dumbledore discuss his scar afterwards (Harry: "Thank goodness it finally doesn't hurt. It also said a little bit about the recent situation. For example, the sacrifice of Emmeline Vance and the serious injury of Amelia Bones (Dumbledore: "Lady Bones was indeed lucky that day, Voldemort happened to meet Percy with his team to visit her when she was looking for her, so she was lucky enough to save her life, but it is estimated that poor Bones will spend Halloween in St. Munger. ”）

They chatted and approached a neat little stone house in the garden. Dumbledore looked over the well-tended path, his heart sank, and the front door was skewed open.

"Harry, draw your wand and follow me. Dumbledore took out his wand and whispered, while scanning the surroundings to make sure that there was no one around, he lit his wand and quietly walked into the room, Harry also nervously held his wand.

As they walked down the porch into the drawing-room, a mess appeared before them: an old clock was shattered at their feet, its face cracked, and the pendulum lay a little farther away, like an abandoned sword. A piano topples over on the floor, keys scattered everywhere. Nearby, a fragment of a broken chandelier was glittering. The mats were thrown everywhere in a mess, already deflated, and feathers were burrowing out of the cracks. Broken glass and porcelain shards were sprinkled like powder. To make matters worse, the sharp-eyed Harry saw a lot of dark red gooey splattered on the wallpaper, and he looked at the red things with his wand and saw that even the ceiling was covered with them.

Was it an attack?' Harry thought, but after looking closely, he felt as if something was wrong. A while ago, when he was resting, he read several detective books, and Ryan read them and refuted some of the passages as worthless, and by the way, he also talked about some of the simplest crime scene judgments. Based on what Ryan had said earlier, Harry couldn't figure out why there were few traces of footsteps on the floor, just a few pieces of broken furniture, if the situation in the room was a fierce battle.

"You can see that something is wrong, right?" said Harry Dumbledore, who looked at him in thought. "I guess it's just, ah, a joke made by an old friend. ”

With a relaxed and even more naughty expression on his face, he quietly walked with Harry to the edge of a single sofa, and then stabbed the back of the bulging single sofa with the tip of his wand, and the head of a balding fat old man suddenly emerged from the top of the back of the chair, and exclaimed, "Merlin's beard!"

Soon the single couch turned into a fat old man standing there, rubbing his belly with his hands: "You don't have to pierce your wand so hard, Albus." It hurts me to death. Also, where the hell am I exposed?"

"Horace, if the Death Eaters had really come, they would have left a mark of the Dark Devil over the house. Dumbledore said, "By the way, I'll introduce you, Harry, to this old friend of mine, Professor Horace Slughorn. Horace—"

"Do I know him, Harry Potter? The old man looked at Harry's forehead and said. "The recent newspapers are full of pictures of him. With that, he walked over to the door and locked it.

"Do you want me to clean it up for you?" asked Dumbledore politely.

"Please!" said the two old men, waving their wands in unison, back to back. One by one, the furniture jumped back to its original position, the ornaments returned to their original shape in mid-air, the feathers burrowed back into the cushions, the fragments of the silver picture frames on the floor reassembled into picture frames and flew back to the desk, and the chandelier finally returned to the roof. The whole house was restored to its original state of decay and soil, and the house was suddenly warmed up by the re-lit lights.

"You think you can convince me by him, do you? I tell you, Albus, the answer is no!" said Slughorn, "and the truth is undeniable, I'm an old man, Albus. A tired old man has the right to live a quiet life and get some material comforts. ”

"Do you live in hiding?" Dumbledore revealed, "I think they're looking for you, too." ”

"Yes, I'm moving every few weeks, but Albus, look at the casualty rate of your professors - are you leaving?" Slughorn immediately asked with an expectant look on his face as he stood up.

"No, I just wanted to ask if I could use your bathroom. Dumbledore said. Watching Dumbledore walk away, Slughorn said to Harry, who was staring at him, "You look a lot like your father, except for your eyes. ”

"I know, like my mother. Harry nodded. He had heard this countless times, and he felt a little tired of it.

"Lily Evans is one of the smartest students I've ever taught. Slughorn seemed to sink into memory, "It would be even more remarkable if you considered that she was still a Muggle." I often say that she should be a student of our college, but every time I get an unceremonious answer from her. ”

"You are—" "I was the head of Slytherin House at the time. He glanced at Harry. "Don't look at me like that, I'm not the kind of person who is biased. Two years ago, I read the newspaper and found out that your two classmates who had been awarded the Order of Merlin were Muggle-born wizards, and many of my favorite students were Muggle-born, such as your mother, and Dirk Chryswell, who was one level below her, and was now the head of the Elven Liaison Office. ”

At this, Slughorn became excited, and pulled Harry to see him with a cabinet full of frames, "These are all students I have taught before, such as the editor-in-chief of the Daily Prophet, Barnabas Gufe, who often sends owls to me to listen to my views on the current situation. Ambrosius Froome, who got a job because of my introduction, now sends me candies every once in a while. Another example is Gwenog Jones, the captain of the Holyhead Harpy team, who can get free tickets whenever I want. It's a pity that I haven't seen it for a long time. ”

The old man looked a little depressed: "I haven't been in touch with any of them for a whole year, and this feeling of being forgotten by the whole world is simply terrible. ”