"Looks like someone has attacked you, Professor."

Dudley looked at the damaged hinge and commented, "Our new professor isn't going to hang up, is he?" ”

"Draw your wand and follow me."

Dumbledore whispered, motioning for Dudley to follow him.

"I guess I should get ahead of you."

Dudley grabbed Dumbledore by the shoulder and pulled him behind him, "I reacted faster than you do, and I don't think I'll be able to run away if you're all attacked." ”

"You're the most important piece of insurance."

Dudley ignored Dumbledore's reaction and walked in first.

Dumbledore looked at Dudley's back, just shook his head slightly, and followed him.

Pushing open the door, the room was pitch black, and nothing could be seen clearly.

"Fluorescence."

Dumbledore raised his wand to unleash a simple illumination, but Dudley stopped him.

"Professor, I don't recommend using spells to scare snakes."

Dudley shook his head at Dumbledore, then pulled a flask out of his pocket and handed it over.

"You can take this."

Dumbledore didn't think about uncorking the bottle and smacked his lips when he finished: "The taste of cranberries, it's quite sweet, what is this?" ”

"Night vision potions that allow you to see what lies ahead in the dark."

Dumbledore found that his eyes were able to see what was ahead of him, as clear as he felt during the day.

"And this, Professor."

Dudley said as he handed him a stout, black object.

"This is.?"

Dumbledore didn't know why.

Seems like some kind of Muggle tool?

"A strong flashlight, once you see something in front of you, use this thing to shine on him, to ensure that you can blind the dog on the other side."

Dudley himself knows how to illuminate, but the effect is so exaggerated, so he still carries a flashlight with him.

There is one thing to say, the effect of using a strong flashlight against the enemy at night is really who uses it, and it directly has a blinding effect.

"Sometimes these props are just good."

Dumbledore didn't refuse, put away his flashlight, and followed Dudley into the room.

Pushing open the door of the living room, there was a mess in front of them, an old clock shattered at their feet, the clock face was 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 and deflated, feathers coming out of the cracks, and broken glass and porcelain were sprinkled like powder.

There was a lot of dark red gooey splashed on the wallpaper.

It's blood, and it's blood that's about to dry up.

Judging by the color of the bloodstains, it should have been a while, but

"It looks like there's been a horrific incident."

Dumbledore scrutinized the scene in front of him, carefully observing the broken fragments at his feet, and after a moment he said to Dudley, "Dudley, you see it that way. ”

Dudley shrugged his shoulders when he heard this, "Isn't the answer obvious, Professor?" ”

He snorted at Dumbledore.

In the direction he was pointing, it was an armchair that had fallen to the ground and bulging.

"Manifest as it is."

A purple spell struck the armchair, and with a slightly painful groan, the armchair began to deform at an alarming rate. In the blink of an eye, he turned into a bald fat old man sitting in place.

Transfiguration spell, the technique of transforming yourself.

"Good evening, Horace." Dumbledore looked at each other with a smile.

In the next second, the whole room brightened.

Horace Slughorn, a very good Potions Master, was the former Head of Slytherin and the last professor of Potions class.

"You don't have to use spells, and you're so rough."

The balding fat old man rubbed his ass and complained that the spot was hit by the spell.

The main thing is that his posture before his transformation is to lie on the ground with his feet pouted.

"I'm sorry, but I don't think you would have been in front of us." Although Dumbledore was saying sorry words, there was no apologetic tone in his tone, and finally he said with a hint of praise: "Besides, Horace, I didn't put the spell just now. ”

"Let me introduce you, this is the best student at Hogwarts, Mr. Duddellsley."

"He's the one who found you."

Dudley gave Dumbledore a quiet look.

This old man

Slughorn staggered to his feet from the ground, still rubbing his hips, and the way he looked at Dudley after hearing Dumbledore's introduction changed, "I know you, one of the inventors of the Humanoid Restoration Charm, the young recipient of the Order of Merlin of the First Degree. ”

Horace Slughorn has one trait - he is very fond of young wizards with potential, and invites them to his slug club and cultivates them.

You can think of it as an investment in disguise.

If you hadn't noticed the return of Senior Tom, his life would have been very nourishing, and after decades of running at Hogwarts, many of the students who had been blessed by him would come to visit every New Year's holiday, don't think that English people don't need to be sophisticated, this thing is the same everywhere.

And his snot has been running since the club, wouldn't the children of the students want to go in?

This is the social circle.

"I want to know how I got exposed, I mean, I think my hiding is perfect."

After discovering that Dudley was a first-class Merlin recipient, Slughorn showed great interest in Dudley.

That's probably why Dumbledore had to take him with him.

Admittedly, Slughorn was very snobbish, but his love for great talent was like that of an avid collector seeing an out-of-print card.

Dudley glanced at Dumbledore, then at Slughorn, then pointed to the sticky blood on the wall and explained, "It's the blood of the dragon, I don't think you know it, there is a peculiar smell in the blood of the dragon, even if you mixed some deodorant in it to try to cover it up, but it can't hide it from my nose." ”

"The natural smell of biosulfur in the dragon's body is difficult to mask with ordinary deodorants."

"I suggest you try it next time with mint leaves and edelweiss juice, so even the most astute hound won't be able to tell the difference."

In fact, Dudley still has a sentence to finish, in addition to the taste of blood, the degree of drying up of blood is also a flaw.

The color is dark red and dull, and it is clearly not fresh blood.

So who is full enough to sprinkle stale blood on the wall? What is the purpose of this?

The answer is imminent.

(End of chapter)