Chapter 382 - Anchor point?
De Vero thought for a moment, then walked towards the crowd.
He did not deliberately exude any oppression, but his existence itself has made the people around him instinctively afraid.
Every step he took, the slight dust on the ground seemed to shake, and the crowd retreated one after another, lowering his head, not daring to look him in the eyes, as if his subjects were facing an ancient emperor.
Among the crowd, Lovegood's reaction was particularly exaggerated.
He actually knelt down on the spot in a serious manner, performed a great gift from a medieval nobleman to meet the king, and shouted excitedly:
"Master Dark Lord!"
De Vero's eyes twitched.
He rolled his eyes, his tone with a hint of helplessness.
"Lovgood, are you addicted to role-playing? If you really want to help me, don't call me Dark Lord after that."
When Lovegod heard this, a mysterious smile appeared on his face, as if he was thinking about the deep meaning of DeVero's words.
This guy is simply the older version of Wells...
De Vero was too lazy to continue paying attention to him, and glanced at everyone who was still in shock and spoke directly:
"I can phantomize and take you out of here-but have to hurry up."
As soon as this said, everyone was stunned for a moment, then it seemed as if they finally came back from their fear and became turbulent.
Lovegood was even more excited and shouted "Master Dark Lord" again, and used extremely exaggerated gestures to the people around him that they should be grateful.
DeVero's eyes were cold, but his heart was full of helplessness.
He was too lazy to correct the madman again.
So, with a casual wave, a long golden rope emerged from his palm, hovering in the air like a dragon, and finally slowly fell down.
“Catch it.”
His voice was low and firm, without any unnecessary explanation, and no explanation was needed.
The crowd was a little hesitant at first, but the next second, everyone rushed to reach out and grab the long rope, fearing that they would be left behind.
Among them, Mrs. Maxim also mingled in the crowd, and a hint of excitement appeared on her face.
She glanced at DeVero deeply and said with a smile:
"If Alexander has time in the future, welcome to Boothbaton as a guest, and I will definitely receive it myself."
De Vero nodded slightly, signaling that he had heard Mrs. Maxim's words, but his eyes had already moved to Fleur Delakure beside him.
The silver-haired girl still looked at him with a completely different look from the others, without fear or fanatical worship, but with a hint of obscureness.
It's time to put the memory back first.
The thought just came to my mind, and DeVero was about to ask about the whereabouts of the note.
——However, at this moment, something suddenly touched his leg.
He frowned slightly and lowered his head.
I saw a metal cage rolling on the ground, with a faint silver light on the surface, like some kind of sophisticated magic device.
It's that time machine.
The time machine Blackwood gave him.
In an instant, DeVero's pupils shrank suddenly.
It was like a flash of lightning splitting open his mind, his thoughts were running at an extraordinary speed, and all the past details were awakened in an instant.
He slowly turned his head and looked at Al on his shoulder.
The lazy toad was still quietly stopped on his shoulder, and his dark eyes were as deep as a bottomless pit, as if he had seen through everything.
De Vero's heart seemed to be clenched by an invisible hand.
The scene of his first encounter with Al suddenly appeared in his mind.
Snape at that time...it seemed to be bringing Al over with a cage?
——
The air in the broken cauldron bar was so dull that it seemed to solidify.
Lupin and Dumbledore's figures were spit out by the burning green flames in the fireplace, and the two stood firmly on the gray floor.
Lupin's face was as pale as paper, and his lips were trembling slightly, as if he had just heard something bad news that could subvert the world's perception.
He looked at Dumbledore, his voice trembling dryly.
"Principal, are what you said... all true?"
Dumbledore did not answer immediately, but lowered his head and gently blew the thermos in his hand. The heat blew a wisp of white mist in the air, lingering in front of his half-moon lens.
His expression was still gentle, even a little leisurely, as if they were not discussing a disaster that could destroy the world, but just talking about whether the hot chocolate in Hogwarts kitchen was added with too much cinnamon.
"It's all true, Remus."
Dumbledore said calmly, his eyes still falling on the slowly rotating liquid in the cup.
“So, we need to take them away as soon as possible.”
However, he did not move.
Lupin's fingers clenched his cuffs, and his knuckles turned white due to excessive force. He lowered his head and pondered for a moment, then raised his head, with still undissipated shock and anxiety in his eyes.
"So...Professor, that existence is coming here..."
He swallowed, his voice weak and hoarse.
"How long will it take?"
Dumbledore finally raised his head, his eyes stuck on his face for a moment, and then shook his head slightly.
"have no idea."
His voice was low and steady, exuding an unpredictable assurance.
“But I know better than most people about the coming rituals of the Hermitage, their key…”
He blew the liquid in the thermos again, his eyes flashed slightly, and he said slowly:
"It's the anchor point of time."
Lupin's brow frowned suddenly, as if he realized something.
Dumbledore looked at him, his blue eyes behind the lenses were deep and distant.
“In other words, if someone is in this range, moving across time—”
"Then this ceremony will be initiated."
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