days at Hogwarts

Chapter 569 Who would refuse ginger cookies?

In the evening, dark clouds covered the sky and faint raindrops floated on the green field. Hogwarts Castle had just passed the first day of the new school year and the bustling castle gradually became quiet.

After dinner, warm yellow lights shone through the windows. The professors returned to their offices to mark students' summer homework and prepare for tomorrow's teaching. At the same time, in the principal's office, Phoenix Fox, who was curled up on the bookshelf and rubbing a book to scratch his itch, suddenly stopped.

Most of the books displayed on Dumbledore's bookshelf were Christmas gifts from other people, including professors who once worked in the school, students who graduated on time every year, and friends who had exchanges with him at home and abroad. It seemed that everyone thought that this old professor was a person who loved reading.

Every Christmas morning, Fawkes would see the office piled with books, but only a few people knew that Dumbledore would only read a few things that interested him, such as fairy tales, Muggle studies, and collections of bad jokes. The rest of the books, such as "Trends in Magical Change", "The Development of Alchemy in the Last Decade", and "Major Research Breakthroughs in the Wizarding World", would only be handed over to Madam Pince and become part of the library's collection.

The books that can be stored on the bookshelf in the principal's office are extremely rare, and each one has unique characteristics.

This phoenix, which had experienced nirvana countless times and was extremely sensitive to magic, retracted its wings and opened its eyes wide. It clearly sensed that the medium-sized but thick book in front of it was emitting some kind of fluctuation, which was strong and obvious.

The sheepskin cover of the book was buzzing, as if it couldn't wait to be opened. Fox hurriedly stepped back and called out to the white-bearded old wizard who was flipping through documents at his desk not far away.

"Oh, don't worry, Fawkes, it's just a..." Dumbledore put down his quill and stood up slowly. He walked around the desk and chair and came to the bookshelf. He first stroked the Phoenix's head with his hand, and then took out the book leisurely. "In Muggle terms, this is just a phone call... Well, it's just book talk..."

The trembling book fell into Dumbledore's hands and suddenly became quiet. A red bookmark string stretched out like a tentacle, searching among the pages for a while, and then reached into a certain page in the book and gently opened it. A rough voice immediately rang out from the book: "Albus, if you move any slower, I will cut off the connection!"

Dumbledore watched as the portraits on the pages gradually moved and the colors became brighter and more vivid. He walked slowly back to the desk with the book in his hands and sat down. He waved his wand to turn over the portraits of past headmasters in the office and chuckled, "Oh, Alastor, please be considerate of my old bones. I can't run to open the book..."

The portrait of Mad-Eye Moody on the page came to life, his blue eyes kept moving, and the beard and scars on his face seemed to come alive, moving slightly as he spoke: "Why don't you sympathize with a cripple like me! I have to run everywhere for you with a lame leg, from Diagon Alley to Knockturn Alley, from Knockturn Alley to Ben Nevis, from Ben Nevis to Nurmengard in Austria, and finally to Germany... Merlin, no one with normal legs and feet would run so many places in such a short time. This is simply abusing a cripple!"

"Oh, we discussed this, didn't we? You don't have to do this alone. Remus and Sirius are willing to run some places for you."

Dumbledore listened to his old friend's complaints with a gentle smile on his face. His eyes only dimmed for a moment when he heard a familiar place name.

"Those reckless young people are unreliable, and are even worse than students who haven't graduated yet!" The portrait on the page waved its hand impatiently, and Moody muttered, "I won't chat with you anymore. I'm in a hurry. Let me tell you what I have learned."

“It’s an honor to be in the audience.”

"The little fellow you chose is a good one. He found the three smartest siblings in the giant tribe and drew some weird things on one of them. I can't understand it, but it's something from alchemy. As a result, the giant tribe has completely changed..." Mad-Eye Moody chuckled and shook his hideous head. "If you didn't see it with your own eyes, no one would believe that those giants who are almost like trolls are actually running a school. It's incredible. I happened to see it when I went there..."

Dumbledore's smile deepened. It was unknown what scene was appearing in his mind. His azure eyes were a little dazed. "It seems that we will not face those big guys with thick skin and flesh in this war."

"But they don't want to join us!" Moody's muffled voice came from the pages of the book, "It seems that except for those two little guys, no one else can convince them."

"That's enough. A war between wizards shouldn't involve other races." Dumbledore came back to his senses and said gently and calmly, "Tell me about the subsequent investigation. Are there any unusual findings?"

"I got some information from Borgin Blog and Mundungus. About two weeks ago, a group of unidentified people began to secretly look for a person. Their name and identity are unclear, and there are almost no clues. There is only a photo of him when he was young. But the guys who are looking for him said that the person they are looking for is at least a hundred years old, so it may be difficult to find him." The portrait on the page suddenly paused here, as if it heard some sound, and looked to the side cautiously. The portrait's movements suddenly froze, and only a thudding sound of footsteps could be heard.

Dumbledore was not in a hurry. He heard clearly the sound of Alastor's cane tapping the ground.

After a moment, the portrait on the page came alive again. Mad-Eye Moody took out his curved bottle and took a sip. "I'm currently in a bar in Germany. It's not peaceful here. Someone is also looking for the person in the photo. The search is even more intense than in Britain... The thing you asked me to investigate is spreading everywhere. There's no need to ask specifically. The wand maker who is as famous as Ollivander has disappeared, causing the new wizards here to have to buy their wands elsewhere. It's quite a stir..."

"I believe he has been killed, Alastor..." Dumbledore said softly, "Tell me about Nurmengard. What's going on there?"

"Oh, how should I put it..." Moody's magic eye in the portrait suddenly stopped moving, as if he accidentally glanced at Dumbledore through the pages of the book, and said in a deep voice, "No one cares about that prison at all. There is only one employee who regularly delivers food there. As for that famous dark wizard..."

"..."

Dumbledore rubbed his knuckles on the book cover, his deep eyes hidden behind the crescent-shaped lenses, flickering with a faint blue light, "I know, Alastor, come back as soon as possible, they can't hold back any longer, the Order of the Phoenix needs you to preside over the work."

"understood."

The portrait on the page gradually faded, and the lively magic eye lost its vitality and became fixed, staring straight ahead motionlessly. The originally vivid portrait became stiff and lifeless.

Dumbledore slowly closed the book and sat behind the desk for a long time without moving. He did not put the book back on the bookshelf, nor did he reopen the documents he had previously reviewed.

This was the scene Loren saw when he pushed open the oak door of the principal's office.

Night slowly fell, the thick black night completely covered the dark clouds, the bright candlelight burned quietly in the office, and the phoenix Fawkes lay on the bookshelf with his wings tucked in, his small head facing the desk, his eyes staring straight at the dazed old principal, or rather, at the magic book in his hand.

Loren closed the door and sat down at the desk familiarly. Looking at the unresponsive old principal, he hesitated for two seconds and said tentatively: "Voldemort is attacking Hogwarts!" "..."

Dumbledore couldn't help laughing, and the sadness in his mind was swept away. A smile appeared on the corner of his mouth: "That's really good news."

"Principal, what were you thinking about just now? You didn't even react when I came in."

"Thinking about some philosophical questions."

Loren raised his eyebrows and asked three philosophical questions: "Who am I? Where do I come from? Where am I going?"

"Um……"

Dumbledore's gray eyebrows slowly knitted together. "It sounds simple and straightforward, but if you think about it carefully, you will find that these three questions can trigger countless thoughts and imply countless answers, but no answer can really answer them. They are really philosophical questions. I once had similar questions when I just graduated from Hogwarts..."

"hiss……"

Loren took a deep breath and interrupted the old principal's deep thoughts: "Philosophical concepts are too vague. Let's focus on the practical problems at hand."

"Excuse me, have you encountered any difficulties in real life, Loren?" Dumbledore blinked, put the magic book on the table, picked up the teapot and poured him a cup of hot cocoa. "Speaking of which, in the past few years, we would have a good chat after the opening banquet every year. I specially prepared ginger biscuits last night, but the guest I was waiting for was not you..."

"Your office was too crowded last night. I'll make some room for them." Loren waved his hand and started talking about serious matters. "Right now, there is a malicious senior deputy minister of the Ministry of Magic who is also a part-time professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts in the school. Outside the school, a large number of dark wizards are searching for the whereabouts of the Elder Wand. Voldemort and the Death Eaters are lurking in the dark, waiting for an opportunity to act..."

Loren sorted out the events during this period one by one, focusing on what happened in the first Defense Against the Dark Arts class today. He glanced at the quaint black wand on the table, paused and said, "If this continues, Harry will have to face off with Professor Umbridge in less than two classes. Headmaster, what are your plans?"

Dumbledore looked at the little wizard with black hair and black eyes in front of him. Although his face was still childish, he had already revealed some demeanor that was far beyond that of an adult. Alastor was right...

Putting aside all the thoughts in his mind, he pretended to be confused and asked: "Plan...what plan?"

"Of course it's a plan to deal with Voldemort and the Ministry of Magic. What else could it be?" Loren rolled his eyes. "Free up the Great Hall so that Professor Umbridge can duel with Harry..."

"That sounds like a good idea..." Dumbledore frowned and fell into deep thought. He nodded seriously, and only laughed out loud when he saw his eyes rolling up to the sky. "In fact, I think your plan is very good..."

At this point, he took a sip of hot cocoa and squinted his eyes comfortably. "Let Umbridge lead the Aurors of the Ministry of Magic to track down the case. With proper guidance, they will be able to follow the clues and find Voldemort. As long as someone stands up to ensure safety at the right time, Voldemort's whereabouts will be exposed and the Ministry of Magic will stand on our side. Am I right?"

Loren did not deny it, but just grinned: "This is the development of events under ideal conditions."

"I will try my best to create conditions for this plan..." Dumbledore smiled, "As before, I need you to keep an eye on Harry's condition, especially his dreams..."

White steam floated out of the brown-black hot cocoa, and the rich aroma spread. The content of the conversation gradually returned to a normal chat between a professor and a student, about the experience of taking the OWLs exam, the tricks of Transfiguration, and what new products the Honey Candy Store has launched...

As the lights were about to go out, Loren drank a thin layer of the bottom of the cup, glanced casually at the table, and whispered, "One more thing..."

Dumbledore's eyes moved slightly, his steady breathing became slightly disordered for a moment, his peripheral vision swept across the elderberry wand, and he looked at Loren calmly.

"You should still have some ginger biscuits. Give me some. I haven't had a chance to go to the supermarket during the summer vacation. I only bought a few on the train. My snack reserves are all gone."

The old principal was obviously stunned for a moment, and then a bright smile broke out on his face.

……

After chatting with the Fat Lady for a while while biting on ginger biscuits, Loren walked into the portrait hole and saw that the Gryffindor common room was still bustling.

Lee Jordan, George and Fred were sitting among a group of innocent-looking first-year students, constantly taking food out of a big paper bag and stuffing it into the little ones' mouths. Each of the freshmen was chewing something in his mouth, with clear stupidity in his eyes, and they were eating with relish.

The newly appointed prefects Parvati and Neville stood by, hesitant to speak, as if they wanted to go up and persuade but didn't dare.

In a few seconds, the first-year students seemed to be hit on the head by an invisible sledgehammer and fainted in their seats. Some slid to the ground, unable to get up, while others just slumped on the armrests of their chairs, their eyes dull and their tongues hanging out.

The people watching nearby burst into laughter, and George and Fred squatted down with their clipboards and watched the delirious first-year students writing and drawing with their quills.

(End of this chapter)