days at Hogwarts

Chapter 606 Night Mission
Hampstead, London.

Hermione was leaning on a chair in front of the bedroom window, her hair draped over her shoulders, holding a beautifully bound book in her hands with a focused expression. Every time she finished reading a chapter and turned the page, she would look up at the sky outside that was gradually darkening, and at the orange and yellow street lights on both sides of the street that were gradually lighting up.

On the desk were several magic books neatly stacked, as well as a parchment letter with some words written in a thin, slanted handwriting:

"Dear Lauren and Hermione,
If it is convenient for you, I will visit Hampstead at nine o'clock this Friday night. I have two important and difficult things to do, and I would be very happy if I could get your help. Details will be discussed when we meet.

See you on Friday
Albus Dumbledore

The bedside alarm clock made a ticking sound. Hermione turned another page of the book in her hand. She glanced at the alarm clock and saw that there was still a quarter of an hour until nine o'clock.

Loren was lying on her bed reading recent newspapers. One of the newspapers was particularly eye-catching, with the headline in bold and black: The Secret That Cannot Be Told!

"At 12:29 a.m. on December 9th, Greenwich Mean Time, the Ministry of Magic and Knockturn Alley were attacked by Death Eaters... This reporter interviewed a memory cancellation agent who did not want to be named. He was seriously injured in this incident and was out of danger two days ago. When he left St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Wounded Soldiers, he said: "We are not allowed to talk about this matter. Don't ask me anything."

"Uh……"

Not wanting to reveal the person's name, the reporter pointed out the person's occupation and discharge time. Are you sure this is not deliberate revenge?

Loren's expression was a little subtle. He smoothed the newspaper and continued to flip through the pages.

"According to internal information from our reporter, the target of the attack and riot by the You-Know-Who was at the Prophecy Hall in the Department of Mysteries... Although the Ministry of Magic spokesperson has refused to confirm the existence of such a place, more and more people in the magic world believe that the You-Know-Who was trying to steal a prophecy ball...

The prophecy ball was damaged in this attack and cannot be restored for the time being. The content is unknown... According to many wizards' speculation, the prophecy is related to Harry Potter. As the only person who survived the killing curse of the mysterious man, the prophecy points out that only Harry Potter can completely rid the wizarding world of the man who must not be named...

Some people even call Potter the savior..."

Loren glanced at the photo published below the report. It was a silly photo of Harry when he participated in the championship last year.

Moving your eyes to the right, the second photo is larger and is a black and white photo of a middle-aged man waving at the camera. He has thick hair like a lion's fur and a savage and ferocious face.

"The new Minister of Magic, Rufus Scrimgeour, recently made a speech that the Ministry of Magic will soon take some new tough measures to ensure the safe return of students from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry after the holidays. According to insiders, these measures include some defensive magic and spells, a series of breaking spells and a team of Aurors specially sent to protect Hogwarts School..."

There was also a purple booklet sandwiched between a pile of newspapers, with striking words printed on it: "Published with the authorization of the Ministry of Magic - Protecting You and Your Family - from Dark Magic: The wizarding world is currently under certain unspeakable threats. The Ministry of Magic recommends that you follow the following simple safety rules to help protect yourself, your family and your home from attacks..."

Loren flipped through it roughly, and it was mostly useless nonsense, including not leaving home alone, trying to get home before dark, checking the convenience measures around the house, carefully observing the behavior of relatives and friends around you, developing a good habit of verifying your identity, and being careful of the Imperius Curse and Polyjuice Potion...

Loren closed the newspaper and hummed, then stretched his waist lazily, turned over and rolled the sheets and quilt into a mess.

Hermione's bed was very soft and smelled nice, similar to her body smell, and it was very comfortable to sleep on.

"Hermione, do you think Dumbledore will be late?"

"will not."

"why?"

“Because they’re already here.”

Hermione, who was sitting by the window, put down the book in her hand, carefully placed the leaf bookmark, closed the book, and turned to face the window. The alarm clock pointed to nine o'clock at this time, and the street lights outside the window went out quietly.

Loren scrambled to his feet and leaned over her shoulder to look out. Two figures, one tall and one short, were walking along the garden path. The tall one was wearing a traveling cloak and the short one was wearing a thick down jacket.

After putting on my slippers and pushing the door open to go downstairs, I heard Dumbledore's deep voice: "Good evening, Mrs. Granger, you are still as beautiful as ever. Mr. Bates, long time no see. Mr. Granger, you don't look surprised at all. I believe Hermione and Lauren must have told you that I am coming to pick them up, right?"

"Yes, Headmaster Dumbledore, they mentioned it. Come in and sit for a while..."

Dumbledore wore a pointed hat, crescent-shaped glasses on his hooked nose, and a traveling cloak, which made it difficult for the neighbors to see him. He walked in with a smile, pointed at the person next to him wearing a thick down jacket, and introduced: "This is Harry, Hermione and Loren's classmate."

"Yes, Harry Potter, this is not the first time we have met."

Bates patted his shoulder and pointed at the two people coming downstairs: "Harry, Loren probably has a lot to say to you. Can we talk to the principal alone?"

"Of course, sir!"

The adults over there gathered together and started to chat in whispers. Loren could guess what they were talking about without having to use his brain. He pulled Harry to sit on the sofa and greeted him with a smile, "Good evening, savior!"

Harry said unhappily, "Don't tease me, Loren. Those newspapers don't know the truth of the matter at all. Don't you know it?"

It was like this when he was at the Black mansion. George and Fred had replaced his name with Savior Star. From the moment they woke up at breakfast, they would say "Good morning, Savior Star", "Savior Star, pass me the milk", "Savior Star, you didn't clean your eye boogers"...

He felt a little nervous when he heard this word now.

Hermione also smiled: "Let's talk business, Harry, do you know what the two things Dumbledore mentioned in the letter are?"

"I don't know any more than you do..." Harry shook his head, "Dumbledore picked me up from Grimmauld Place ten minutes ago."

"is that so……"

Loren stared at the parents and teachers of the students who were talking in the back with a thoughtful look. He vaguely guessed what was going on.

Ten minutes later, Headmaster Dumbledore finally ended the conversation with the parents. He stood up, smiled at Loren and the others, and uttered his own personal metaphor:

"Well, dear children, let us go out into the night and pursue that frivolous and seductive temptress - an exciting adventure."

……

On the roadside of an abandoned village yard, the cold night air made a few explosions, and several figures appeared out of thin air in the open space.

"Cough cough..."

Harry gasped for air. He felt that he was being squeezed from all directions. His eyeballs were squeezed and moved around, his eardrums were stretched and stretched, and his chest seemed to be tightly squeezed by several iron hoops. It seemed that he was squeezed out of a very narrow rubber tube. It took him a few seconds to recover. "This time the transfer distance is quite long. It is normal to feel a little uncomfortable. Adjust your breathing and adapt slowly." Dumbledore comforted him slowly.

"Why are they okay?" Harry opened his tearful eyes and looked at the two people next to him who seemed fine with some indignation.

Loren and Hermione looked at each other, one with an innocent expression, the other spreading out her palms: "Apparition, a very convenient magic..."

Damn it, is this what a despicable honor student is?
Harry rubbed his ears to calm the air pressure inside and outside the eardrums. He felt that his ears seemed to leave London reluctantly: "I still prefer flying on a broom."

Several people around him laughed when they heard this. Dumbledore wrapped his traveling cloak tightly around his neck and said, "This way, children. We may be in a hurry."

A group of people took brisk steps, with deep and shallow footsteps on the snow, and the soft rustling sound echoed in the dark night.

"Harry, has your scar been painful lately?"

"No."

Harry subconsciously touched the scar on his forehead. "I also find it strange. Voldemort must have been hysterical and very excited after suffering such a blow. I thought the scar would always be burning with pain."

"Want to hear my thoughts?"

Dumbledore showed a satisfied look: "After this blow, Voldemort seems to have realized that it is very dangerous for you to exchange emotions and thoughts with each other. If I am right, he is now using the brain block technique on you."

"Well, I wish it were so."

Dumbledore smiled and said, "Loren, have you made any progress in your research on time and space?"

Loren was not surprised. Some things could be hidden from the Ministry of Magic, but they certainly could not be hidden from the eyes of the headmaster: "There has been no progress in the principles of magic, but by combining the natural sciences of Muggles, I have learned a lot of unexpected knowledge."

"I am looking forward."

"..."

The cold air of the night blew on her cheeks. Hermione held the hand of the person next to her and asked softly, "Professor, I saw in the Daily Prophet that Fudge has stepped down and his replacement is Mr. Rufus Scrimgeour. What kind of person is he?"

"I know what you are worried about. Don't worry, he is different from Fudge..." Dumbledore introduced patiently, "Rufus was a very good Auror when he was young. He spent most of the first half of his life fighting against evil dark wizards. He can be said to be a time-tested warrior with a tough stance and decisive actions. This achievement allows him to take over smoothly. I believe he will not be corrupted by wealth and power..."

In fact, the middle and high-level officials in the Ministry of Magic are more reliable than they thought. After all, most of them are the ones who fought their way out of the last wizarding war. The iron-blooded Crouch, Mad-Eye Moody, the hard-line Scrimgeour, and the dedicated Amelia Bones, all of them are crowned with honors.

It’s just that Umbridge and Fudge’s colors are too dark, which makes the Ministry of Magic seem too terrible.

Loren looked up at the clock outside the church in front of him. It was a quarter to ten.

They talked as they walked, and unlike what Hermione had expected, they did not walk into a magical village, but walked on a Muggle street, passing a few houses of a pub with little business, turned a corner, passed a telephone booth and a bus shelter.

Walking into a Muggle community, Hermione couldn't help but tilt her head to look at Dumbledore: "Professor, where is this?"

"Hmm... the charming village of Badley Barberton, Hermione."

"What are we doing here?"

"Oh, by the way, I haven't told you yet." Dumbledore shook his head. "Ah... I can't remember how many times I have said this in recent years, but there is no way. Now we are short of two teachers. We are here to persuade one of my retired colleagues to come back to work and return to Hogwarts."

"How can we help, sir?"

"Oh, I think we will put you to use, follow me..." Dumbledore mumbled.

Walking through the straight and narrow streets, I entered a villa set in a neat garden. At the end of the well-maintained path, the porch was a heart-wrenching sight.

The front door hung on its broken hinges, and the door was half-open. When I walked into the house, the scene in the living room was even more chaotic. The broken chandelier reflected the broken light, the grandfather clock was shattered on the ground, the clock face was broken, and the pendulum fell to the side. The piano was overturned on the ground, the keys were scattered everywhere, torn strips of cloth were scattered all over the ground, cotton and down were hanging outside, and broken glass and porcelain were scattered everywhere.

There were splattered blood on the walls and carpet, the bright red turning into black.

Harry took a deep breath, fearing that he might find a corpse in some corner. "It seems that there has been a terrorist attack here. We are already late, right?"

"It doesn't look good, does it?" Dumbledore said in a flat tone. He walked casually to the middle of the room and carefully observed the broken fragments at his feet.

Loren stared with interest at an overturned armchair.

Hermione was also a little worried, but when she saw the expressions of Loren and Dumbledore, she felt relieved.

"But the truth is often different from what we see..."

Dumbledore followed Loren's gaze, a smile appeared on his lips, and he pretended to walk casually into the bulging armchair. He quietly bent his elbows and raised his wand, without a sound, and then stabbed it down fiercely.

"Ouch!" The chair screamed miserably and shook violently.

"Good evening, Horace." Dumbledore stood up again beside him, his tone smiling.

The armchair spun rapidly, and in the blink of an eye a fat bald old man squatted there. He rubbed his belly, squinted his painful, tearful eyes and looked at Dumbledore, and said angrily:
"You didn't have to poke me so hard with the wand. It hurts so much!"

The illumination spell illuminated his shiny bald head, slightly bulging eyes, and silver beard that was much shorter than Dumbledore's.

He staggered to his feet, his lavender velvet pajamas shiny and soft. Although he was asking Dumbledore, his eyes were fixed on Loren: "How did you find me?"

"Uh..." Loren shrugged, "The smell of potion on you is too strong for my nose to ignore."

Horace Slughorn's eyes suddenly lit up.

(End of this chapter)