I, Hogwarts Week Two

Chapter 7 The Strange Dumbledore (for further reading)

Dinner at Hogwarts is quite rich.

Having a hearty meal.

And after singing the school song with a strange accent.

Dumbledore wiped his eyes, and his sonorous voice echoed throughout the Great Hall. "Music, more glamorous than anything we do here! It's time for bed. Go back to your dorms, everyone."

The sound fell.

The auditorium was suddenly crowded.

Hufflepuff has the most first year students.

They followed the prefect Truman and prepared to go back to the dormitory.

Owen followed suit.

Walk through the noisy crowd, out of the restaurant, and up the marble steps.

Just as he followed the crowd into the basement.

Ahead, the professor's shout suddenly came.

"Mr. Sanchez."

It's Professor McGonagall.

She stood at the head of the spiral staircase, condescending, looking at him with a serious expression.

"What's wrong, Professor?" Owen squeezed through the crowd and came to Professor McGonagall.

"The principal wants to know more about what happened on the Hogwarts Express." The professor said slowly, "Follow me."

Then he turned around and walked towards the spiral staircase.

-

On the eighth floor, under the confused eyes of all the Gryffindors, he and Professor McGonagall walked towards the corridor with the gryphon statue.

Professor McGonagall shouted a password at the stone sculpture: "Cockroach pile!"

Immediately, the griffin statue turned half a circle, revealing a spiral upward staircase.

At the end of the stairs was a fluorescent oak door.

Push open the wooden door.

The light inside seemed a little insufficient.

Owen's first reaction was that Professor Dumbledore might need some candles.

Although the office in front of me is filled with all kinds of strange and weird gadgets, it is very consistent with the description in the original work.

But he still prefers the principal's office.

It was sparkling there, filled with golden light everywhere, like a warm sun above the head. The office was filled with warm things and various flowers.

There is also a group photo of his family on Dumbledore's desk.

Owen has seen it.

Aberforth, Credence, Nagel.

And her daughter.

He didn't know the name, but Owen knew that the middle name must be: "Arianna."

"Oh! The nasty little devil is here."

Seeing the person coming, the Sorting Hat spoke first.

It didn't seem to have calmed down, and the tone of its voice didn't sound like a normal song.

Next to Dumbledore's desk, there is a tall gilded perch, and the phoenix Fawkes is perched on the branch.

Further down, there is a semicircular bookshelf embedded in the wall. The bookshelf is full of various books and magic props. Owen even saw the Gryffindor sword.

And the sorting hat is being placed in one of the grids.

"Mr. Sanchez." Dumbledore looked very relaxed, and he had no intention of asking questions. He slowly got up and came to Owen from his desk, "Would you like some candy?"

On the desk, a large pile of licorice cockroaches was lying quietly on a silver plate.

Owen knows this thing. As a potential foodie, he has tried most of the snacks in the magic world, even this strange candy is no exception.

The pile of cockroaches, placed there on weekdays, is no different from ordinary candies, they will only move when you pick them up.

As for the taste - not too great.

For Owen, it's too sweet and a bit cloying.

"No, professor, my grandpa said that eating too much candy can lead to tooth decay."

"Really?" Professor Dumbledore didn't care about tooth decay at all. He picked one up and put it in his mouth. "Although it looks a little strange, it tastes pretty good."

"Young people should be brave enough to try."

"Aren't you British?" Then the professor suddenly changed his tone and talked about Owen's family in a homely manner.

In this regard, Owen was not surprised. This is not a secret. It is recorded by the Ministry of Magic. He did not come to England illegally. "Yes, I was born in France."

"I was in a Muggle orphanage in Paris until I was at least four years old."

"Oh? What about your grandfather?" Dumbledore suddenly became interested. It was impossible for him to not understand a wizard who could make an 11-year-old wizard cast a spell like the Petrification Curse.

But when he actually looked through Owen's information, he found that almost all of the information recorded by the Ministry of Magic was nonsense with no preface and follow-up, and it was just random writing.

Like—someone got some poor British Auror under the Imperius Curse, casually documented.

"My grandpa?" Owen was startled. "Actually, I don't know him very well. There should be no blood relationship between us. After he took me out of the orphanage, he brought me to England."

Calling him Grandpa (there is no such word as Grandpa in English, they are all called Grandpa.) It is entirely because of the name Rick, anyway, Owen called it that way, and that person did not object, and Owen got used to it over time.

As for the identity of the grandfather.

He had some guesses, but wasn't sure.

Just 99% sure!

The last 0.1 he was afraid of being proud of.

"Well, I see." The professor nodded slightly, his half-moon eyes showed seriousness, "Mr. Sanchez, I still have to say that bullying classmates is never the right thing to do. About Harry—"

Suddenly Dumbledore's voice changed, and his voice was a little hurried, "Is that your wand?"

Because of the habit of the week, Owen's wand has always been placed in the most conspicuous place on his waist. There is a small pocket there. About two-thirds of the wand is hidden in the pocket, and the rest is exposed, which is convenient for him to take it quickly.

"Huh? This is my grandfather's wand. You know, it costs a lot of money to buy a wand."

Wizards have the custom of passing down wands, but most wizards choose to buy a new one.

Because no matter how close they are by blood, someone else's wand will never be used as smoothly as yours.

Owen took his wand out of his pocket.

"Can I take a look?"

"Of course, here you are." Owen handed over the wand, his expression twitching unconsciously, he wanted to laugh a little, and couldn't help it.

Dumbledore took the wand and looked at it carefully.

It was a wand shaped like a dead branch.

The only highlight is its material, silver basswood, which is a very precious material.

Silver basswood wands were popular in the 19th century. Due to the short supply of this kind of wood in the market, some unscrupulous traders even dyed the unqualified wood to deceive consumers.

This kind of wand is popular not only because of their beautiful appearance, but also because they perform excellently in the hands of "seers" or wizards who are good at "lepimenism". These two mysterious magics give silver lindens The holder of a wooden wand is of high status.

It is uncommon for a wizard to have such a wand.

And the most famous in history, the holder of the silver basswood wand that Dumbledore is most familiar with, there is only one person.

The air in the principal's office seemed to freeze.

For several minutes, Dumbledore did not speak again.

It wasn't until Professor McGonagall beside Owen reminded him that he broke away from the memories.

"Is that Owen?"

"Want some midnight snack?"

　It's about to be signed. It's about to be signed tomorrow. It's estimated that the status will be there tomorrow.

　　
　
(End of this chapter)