Calvin left Riddle House on the barren mountain with a gloomy face, he didn't expect Voldemort to be so resolute and give up his newborn body directly.

In the distance, Dumbledore's figure loomed, holding a sword in his right hand and a blood-dripping snake head in his left hand, emerging from the fog. He looked at the old mansion behind Calvin that was gradually engulfed by the fierce flames, and asked calmly, "You did it?" ”

Calvin shook his head, "I don't like to use dark magic, Voldemort put it himself. ”

"How did it turn out?"

"Kind of destroyed one of his Horcruxes." Calvin said half-truths, not telling Dumbledore the whole truth.

Dumbledore nodded, not asking more.

Calvin looked around, frowned, and asked, "What about Peter?" ”

Dumbledore threw the head of the snake into the burning flames and said lightly, "I didn't see him, and when I got here, I only saw this big snake." ”

"Didn't see that?" Calvin sneered, "What a cowardly rat, even Voldemort's orders dare to disobey, I hope Voldemort doesn't torture him to death." ”

Calvin turned to look back at the dilapidated Riddle House, the fire on the top floor like maggots on tarsal bones, trying to devour it all.

"Albus, I haven't used a fire, I've heard that it can burn everything, is it true?" Calvin asked suddenly.

Dumbledore didn't know why Calvin asked, but he replied seriously, "Yes, as far as I know, a runaway fire will burn everything, including the users of it. ”

"Can you stop the fire?"

"It's hard, I usually choose to rescue people who are threatened by the fire, and wait for the fire to devour everything it can reach." Dumbledore said sincerely.

"Oh, it sounds like you know a lot about the fire, Headmaster Dumbledore." Calvin asked with interest.

Dumbledore nodded, his silver beard trembling slightly, "I know how to use the fire curse myself, so to speak, and I used to know a master of playing with fire...... You don't need to look at me like that, Calvin, I still know a thing or two about the dark arts. ”

"Well, indeed," Calvin nodded thoughtfully, "and what happened to the master who played with the fire, was he burned to death?" ”

Dumbledore looked at Calvin with an extremely strange look, "If you want to say that, you're not wrong. His defeat is embarrassing. ”

"How stupid and ridiculous," lamented Calvin, "as the Far Easterners say, those who play with fire will burn themselves." ”

"I won't be like this, I won't challenge myself to do more than I can."

Calvin waved his wand, and the nearby clouds were pulled by a powerful force, forming a thick dark cloud in the dark night. Dumbledore could clearly hear the faint sound of thunder and the electric light in it beneath the dark clouds.

Soon, the enchanted rain rained down from the sky like arrows, falling precisely on the area, extinguishing the flames, leaving only the ruins of the wall that had not yet been swallowed up.

Dumbledore said with a little approval, "Rare magic can extinguish a fire. ”

Afterwards, Calvin didn't want to talk more about this magic, and he kindly reminded him, "Dumbledore, you should go back and see Harry, I think he probably won't get a good night's sleep tonight." ”

-----------------

Harry hadn't slept well tonight, and he had a terrible nightmare in which he had been burned to death by a white flame that had been set on fire by himself.

Thankfully, just as the white flames were about to consume Harry, a sharp pain in his forehead woke him up from his nightmare.

Harry sat on the bed, gasping for air, covering his forehead with his hand in pain. He looked around and saw that Seamus and Ron were sleeping soundly, especially Ron, with his arms clutched around a pillow, while Neville seemed to be sleeping lightly, rolling over in bed a lot.

Harry gently got up from the bed, without disturbing anyone, and quietly descended the stairs into the Gryffindor common room.

The lounge was dim, except for a candle in the corner, the Wesley twins. They were sighing wistfully at a piece of parchment.

"Still no," I don't know if it was George or Fred who spoke, "There are a lot of problems, the coverage is not enough, the accuracy of the human trace spell is not enough, and our alchemy level is also very poor, and there is no way to display everyone's names on parchment." ”

"Tsk, I don't know how those four seniors made it," said another, "why did you say you lost it?" ”

"Huh? You're blaming me now, I remember the map was shared by the two of us. ”

"Now isn't the time to argue about this, is there anything you can do?"

"I don't know," said the man at first, angrily, "or ask Cedric tomorrow if he might have a good idea of what he could do with his magic paintings." ”

"Hey! We said we would keep it a secret and not tell anyone else. ”

"The problem is that you can't restore the original map, not even a simple version, do you want to tell Professor Capet ......?"

Harry listened for a moment, then tiptoed away from them and walked along the wall to the other end of the Gryffindor common room, where the fireplace was raised under the cover of a row of tall seats.

"Sirius, Sirius," Harry called softly into the burning fireplace, "are you there?" I have something I want to talk to you about. ”

Soon, the flames in the fireplace revealed the face of a middle-aged man with long hair, his neck shaking slightly, as if dusting off the excess sparks.

Sirius' flaming head looked at Harry sitting in his chair and asked, half stern and half concerned, "Harry, why don't you sleep so late?" ”

"Blake, I'm a little... It's a bit of a situation. Harry hesitated, wondering if calling his godfather for a nightmare was a bit of a fuss, or if he was just trying to find someone to talk to.

Harry used the tongs in his hand to flick the firewood from the fireplace, and said in a slur manner, "Sirius, I just... I just had a nightmare that I let out a handful of flames and burned myself. Then the scar on my forehead started to hurt, very painful, and woke me up. ”

Sirius thought that Harry, who had been lacking the love of his family for a long time, wanted to be spoiled by his family, so he used this trivial matter as an excuse to call him.

He smiled, not intending to expose his godson's lies, but said with a gentleness unique to a middle-aged man, "It's just a nightmare, don't be so afraid, you have to remember that you are a student of Gryffindor." ”

"No, it's not a nightmare," Harry shuddered, as if recalling some not-so-good memories, "and this is the second time in a month. ”