Roger stretched out his foot and stepped on the frost path twice, it was hard and strong, and he didn't have to fear sinking into it. After all, it's uncomfortable to get the lower half of your body covered in muddy water.

Dumbledore watched with interest as the boy worked his magic, and enjoyed the fruits of his labor as a matter of course.

After standing on the ice, Lao Deng also began to prepare to clean up these demons and parasites. And the method is similar to when destroying Sword Wing and Scarecrow, the barrier first squeezes them far enough, and then the fire spell happily completes the harvest, easy and labor-saving, and by the way, the remaining vast swamp ground is baked and hardened.

If the parasite could consciously use all kinds of magic, Dumbledore might not be able to deal with them so quickly, after all, these demons have ranged and melee combat, and after being squeezed out, more than a dozen magic bolts were thrown over, and even old Deng would have to be caught blind if he didn't open the shield.

"Well, by the way, how have you thought about the thing I mentioned to you earlier?" asked Roger, stepping on the warm ground.

"What are you talking about?" Dumbledore looked down at the ink dots marked on the map of the living spots, and compared them to the direction they should be heading next.

"The locket has a Brave Loyalty Spell. Roger said.

"If I say no, you'll bother me all the way, so okay, I'll promise you. Dumbledore put the map away and glanced at the boy, "Come on, let's go this way." ”

Hearing this, Roger pursed his lips obviously, expressing infinite disdain for Lao Deng's statement.

In the direction shown on the map, they were heading towards the edge of the Forbidden Forest, and as they got closer to the forest, the more often demons appeared around them. After walking for less than a few hundred meters, Dumbledore had to prop up his large tortoise shell.

Although he knew that this was the most time-saving and labor-saving way at present, Roger still couldn't help but complain: "It's too boring..."

"Coming and going always makes such a few tricks, and there are no fresh tricks at all..."

"I'm getting tired of my eyes, how about a different color?"

Dumbledore was bombarded with nonsense like this, but fortunately, the centenarian was healthy enough to usher in it, and he was not sick or sick. Otherwise, with a big fly like Roger buzzing in his ears, and a heart attack that would have to be done within minutes, an ambulance would have to be called.

And the second ink spot gathering place is nothing new, Kemira's seeds are densely packed around, and the parasites stand in place and sway unconsciously.

None of these Ministry of Magic hapless survived anyway. Roger was interested in finding the stout little man in the dark green coat and pinstriped robe on the parasite, which Minister Fudge had worn last night, unless he was in the mood to dress up and change his outfit when he went back to gather his men.

The third position was almost on the edge of the Forbidden Forest, looking at the ink spots gathered together on the map that had not moved at all, Lao Deng and Roger both had a routine attitude of 'the first two have seen it and the last one is not bad'. No one reported much hope.

Led by the big group of demons 'little brother', this old and young enjoyed the high-standard treatment like the stars and the moon and walked to the edge of the forbidden forest.

The demons that should have come up surrounded them, and the parasites that should have hit the great luck and cast the spell still hit the great luck, and there was not a trace of the survivors surviving.

Old Deng sighed silently, but Roger found an unusual place on the edge of the forest.

"Do you think the position where the parasite is firing magic is a bit high?" the boy said, pointing to the direction on his right hand side that had just been attacked by magic, "unless you tiptoe and raise your arms to the highest position to cast the spell, then that height must be at least Hagrid's body to do it..."

The second spell was also launched from that direction quite powerfully, and Dumbledore suddenly perked up and walked in that direction with his wand in his hand.

Whatever it is, go over and see if there will be no shortage of meat. You know, the half-blood giants are almost one of the fewest races in the world... After all, you know, the big and small gap is a chasm that is hard to bridge.

And Roger was right, unless it was hung on a tree, otherwise a wizard as tall as Hagrid would have to cast spells at that height. Old Deng didn't think that these parasites could do things like 'stand on their toes' and 'straighten their arms'.

It was disappointing to take it, there was neither a half-blood giant parasite nor a strangely moving demon, the guy was just standing on top of a low dirt bag.

"When did you build a tomb on the edge of the Forbidden Forest?" Roger teased openly, "I guess you prepared it for yourself... I don't have a tombstone yet, how about I give you one?"

"Thank you for your kindness, but I think it will be a few years before the tombstone will be usable. Dumbledore was back to his former wisdom and peace.

"It's always right to be prepared. Roger grinned.

The two climbed to the top with small dirt bags. It's not accurate to say 'climb', after all, this dirt bag is pitiful, only the short ones bulge out a little, and there is no need to take the fourth step when you reach the top.

But what makes the small dirt bag different at a glance is that it is not covered with weeds, it is the kind of newly excavated soil that does not fit in with the surrounding grass.

Reach out and twist the fresh floating soil on it and rub it twice, the soil is very dark and wet, but there is no such floating sagging feeling when stepping on the soles of your feet.

After Dumbledore stomped his foot and motioned for Roger to follow him, the old man pointed his wand at the dirt bag and waved it lightly, and the small mound-like dirt bag suddenly changed, revealing its true face... A simple room made of dirt... House?

"This is a house made out of the Transfiguration Spell, right?" said Roger, glancing at the low, irregularly shaped building.

It is said that the house is too much to lift this thing, and the most intuitive feeling is that the pigsty has a roof, only one window without a door, and the inside is dark and rumbling and cannot be seen clearly.

Dumbledore nodded, and his wand pointed at the small house with a slow stroke, and the mud wall facing them turned back into floating dirt and scattered all over the ground.

The expected survivor did not show up, and there was only a corpse inside, with a large hole in the chest, and a large pool of blood had already congealed on the ground lying on its stomach.

The pink bubblegum-like hair color and familiar appearance made Roger recognize the corpse's owner.

"Nymphadora Tonks... I met her once during the summer holidays in Hampstead. He whispered.