Chapter 360 Veteran Member of the Order of the Phoenix
·
Qing Mo Da Xian
Basilisks are not natural creatures and have been symbols of evil for thousands of years.
Because the first batch of basilisks in historical records were usually created by dark wizards for some evil purpose.
From the second batch, more and more wizards appeared for research purposes.
Salazar Slytherin's purpose is very simple, he just wants to protect Hogwarts in the way he thinks is most suitable.
Vincent, who finally touched Jomgand's forehead, sighed:
"The last heir of the Gaunt family is Tom. When he really dies, you don't need to complete the mission of Slytherin."
Jomgand seems to understand this sentence.
It rubbed its little hand on its forehead, and its coiled body completely relaxed.
"His-"
Vincent tilted his head and thought for a long time.
"Are you talking about Harry?"
"His-"
He seemed to understand what Jormgund was saying now, "Isn't Harry born with a Parseltongue?"
"hiss--"
The seven people present knew that this was an affirmative reply.
They may not be able to speak, but they can all understand Parseltongue a little bit.
The only one who was sure was Vincent.
"Do you know how Harry got his Parseltongue?"
"His-"
This is a negative answer.
Jomgand seems to have the ability to discern the Creator.
He sensed it in Tom, but not the slightest trace in Harry.
"What's going on?" Even Hagrid understood the importance of this news.
He came late 12 years ago.
When they arrived at Potter's cottage in Godric's Hollow, the only one alive was baby Harry in his swaddling arms.
That lightning scar on his forehead was proof, proof of having survived Voldemort's Killing Curse.
Vincent recalled the first time Harry saw Quirrell with the back of his head wrapped under a scarf—that is, Voldemort.
Scars burning?
It is impossible to cast spells in the state of the soul, and Quirrell neither held a wand nor muttered anything at the time.
Hermione reminded everyone after digesting the heavyweight news brought by Jorm Gand: "We have to tell Professor Dumbledore the news!"
"Thank you for the news." Vincent moved his hand away from Jomgand's head. "That's it for today. I'll come back when I'm free."
It watched the seven people walk out of the burrow, and the intact right eye seemed to be looking forward to the next meeting.
"His-"
……
……
Hogsmeade, Hog's Head Pub.
Dumbledore sat beside the dilapidated wooden bar, opposite Aberforth who had the same white hair and beard as himself.
They look a bit alike, especially the same blue eyes.
"I intend to reconvene the members of the Order of the Phoenix."
Aberforth paused for a moment with his hands wiping the wine glass, "Are you in a hurry?"
"Yes, I went to meet an old friend yesterday, and I have solved the secret of his immortality."
"up to you."
Dumbledore didn't care about his brother's attitude.
For more than a century, he has treated himself like this.
The two remained silent for a while, and neither of them broke the tacit tranquility.
Until the door of the bar was opened from the outside, and a small old man walked in.
He was wearing a decent woolen coat, and his silver-white hair was a little thinning.
"Ephias!" Dumbledore stood up and leaned over to hug him warmly.
"Albus, long time no see."
The little old man's name was Ephias Dorge, and he was legal and special adviser to the Wizengamot to the Ministry of Magic.
He is the same alumnus who made an appointment with Dumbledore to go on a graduation trip, and he is also a veteran member of the Order of the Phoenix.
Dorje greeted Aberforth, and sat at the bar after receiving an indifferent reply.
"Ephias, didn't you bring your luggage?"
"Bring it, it's all here." He patted the pockets on both sides of the woolen coat, "Seriously, you should have invited me earlier."
Dumbledore smiled, "You are my last hope. If there is a more suitable candidate, I will definitely not invite you to experience that curse."
"I've heard about it." Duoji mentioned another matter, "The Ministry of Magic has decided to throw everything on Gilderoy. You should guess the price Lucius will pay for this, right?"
"I know."
The Malfoy family has always had a good eye.
It's not 12 years ago now, the wind direction of the whole Ministry of Magic has changed.
If the matter about the diary hadn't been discovered, Hagrid, who had a criminal record, would take the blame immediately.
Trying to maintain the surface of peace is the real reason why Fudge does not hesitate to implement the scapegoat strategy.
He didn't want Voldemort coming back, and he didn't want any news of it.
Cut some ex-Death Eater ties completely, and that day will be delayed.
The longer the better, preferably not in his office.
"Connelly has changed." Dumbledore's bright blue eyes dimmed slightly,
"He became the most hated person he ever was, trying to cover his ears to deny any bad news."
"Albus, I know you won't regret—"
With a "bang", Aberforth slapped a glass of whiskey in front of Duoji.
"Thank you, Aberforth." Dorje smiled and picked up the wine glass and took a sip.
He and Dumbledore have been old friends for more than a century, and of course he knows the story of the two brothers.
"Albus, if you think about it—I mean if you want it, a lot of people would be happy to see Fudge go."
"You know I won't, Ephias."
"Yes." Duoji took another sip of whiskey.
The wine is spicy from the very beginning, and slowly transforms into a unique floral aroma.
"Aberforth, did you brew this last year?"
"I picked it up from the side of the road."
He knew that he was joking, and that he interrupted the conversation just now on impulse.
Dumbledore looked at the empty bar in front of him, shook his head and took out a simple little cloth bag from his robe.
"Honeyduke's trial product?" Duoji glanced at it curiously, and shuddered unconsciously.
"Yes, Ambrosio said eating it will make your teeth chatter and squeak like a mouse."
As Dumbledore said, he twisted a piece of cold transparent candy from inside.
"Albus, I have to remind you that it's November."
"This way the flavor can be better preserved." He put the candy in his mouth, "Don't you want to try it?"
Dorje picked up a piece carefully, shrugged his shoulders and trembled as soon as he put it in his mouth.
"Does it--squeak--does it have a--squeak-name?"
"Ambrosio hasn't figured it out yet, what do you think of the name Ice Mouse?"
"It's -- creak -- it's pretty good."
Dumbledore smiled and enjoyed the magical changes brought about by the candy without saying a word.
Probably the taste buds have been frozen, the initial sweetness has disappeared, leaving only the coldness far beyond ice.
He wondered if fresh ice grass from Siberia should be added to it.
This is a very soft plant, especially suitable for long-term storage.
After 5 minutes, Dorje stopped shaking.
He drank all the whiskey into his mouth, before the spiciness of the wine could be felt by his numb tongue, it all slid down his throat and into his stomach.
"Ah—I'm alive again!"
If you come to an ice mouse in the summer, it will be a very happy thing.
Forget it in winter, if you eat too much, it will definitely become an ice sculpture.
……
……
Because the first batch of basilisks in historical records were usually created by dark wizards for some evil purpose.
From the second batch, more and more wizards appeared for research purposes.
Salazar Slytherin's purpose is very simple, he just wants to protect Hogwarts in the way he thinks is most suitable.
Vincent, who finally touched Jomgand's forehead, sighed:
"The last heir of the Gaunt family is Tom. When he really dies, you don't need to complete the mission of Slytherin."
Jomgand seems to understand this sentence.
It rubbed its little hand on its forehead, and its coiled body completely relaxed.
"His-"
Vincent tilted his head and thought for a long time.
"Are you talking about Harry?"
"His-"
He seemed to understand what Jormgund was saying now, "Isn't Harry born with a Parseltongue?"
"hiss--"
The seven people present knew that this was an affirmative reply.
They may not be able to speak, but they can all understand Parseltongue a little bit.
The only one who was sure was Vincent.
"Do you know how Harry got his Parseltongue?"
"His-"
This is a negative answer.
Jomgand seems to have the ability to discern the Creator.
He sensed it in Tom, but not the slightest trace in Harry.
"What's going on?" Even Hagrid understood the importance of this news.
He came late 12 years ago.
When they arrived at Potter's cottage in Godric's Hollow, the only one alive was baby Harry in his swaddling arms.
That lightning scar on his forehead was proof, proof of having survived Voldemort's Killing Curse.
Vincent recalled the first time Harry saw Quirrell with the back of his head wrapped under a scarf—that is, Voldemort.
Scars burning?
It is impossible to cast spells in the state of the soul, and Quirrell neither held a wand nor muttered anything at the time.
Hermione reminded everyone after digesting the heavyweight news brought by Jorm Gand: "We have to tell Professor Dumbledore the news!"
"Thank you for the news." Vincent moved his hand away from Jomgand's head. "That's it for today. I'll come back when I'm free."
It watched the seven people walk out of the burrow, and the intact right eye seemed to be looking forward to the next meeting.
"His-"
……
……
Hogsmeade, Hog's Head Pub.
Dumbledore sat beside the dilapidated wooden bar, opposite Aberforth who had the same white hair and beard as himself.
They look a bit alike, especially the same blue eyes.
"I intend to reconvene the members of the Order of the Phoenix."
Aberforth paused for a moment with his hands wiping the wine glass, "Are you in a hurry?"
"Yes, I went to meet an old friend yesterday, and I have solved the secret of his immortality."
"up to you."
Dumbledore didn't care about his brother's attitude.
For more than a century, he has treated himself like this.
The two remained silent for a while, and neither of them broke the tacit tranquility.
Until the door of the bar was opened from the outside, and a small old man walked in.
He was wearing a decent woolen coat, and his silver-white hair was a little thinning.
"Ephias!" Dumbledore stood up and leaned over to hug him warmly.
"Albus, long time no see."
The little old man's name was Ephias Dorge, and he was legal and special adviser to the Wizengamot to the Ministry of Magic.
He is the same alumnus who made an appointment with Dumbledore to go on a graduation trip, and he is also a veteran member of the Order of the Phoenix.
Dorje greeted Aberforth, and sat at the bar after receiving an indifferent reply.
"Ephias, didn't you bring your luggage?"
"Bring it, it's all here." He patted the pockets on both sides of the woolen coat, "Seriously, you should have invited me earlier."
Dumbledore smiled, "You are my last hope. If there is a more suitable candidate, I will definitely not invite you to experience that curse."
"I've heard about it." Duoji mentioned another matter, "The Ministry of Magic has decided to throw everything on Gilderoy. You should guess the price Lucius will pay for this, right?"
"I know."
The Malfoy family has always had a good eye.
It's not 12 years ago now, the wind direction of the whole Ministry of Magic has changed.
If the matter about the diary hadn't been discovered, Hagrid, who had a criminal record, would take the blame immediately.
Trying to maintain the surface of peace is the real reason why Fudge does not hesitate to implement the scapegoat strategy.
He didn't want Voldemort coming back, and he didn't want any news of it.
Cut some ex-Death Eater ties completely, and that day will be delayed.
The longer the better, preferably not in his office.
"Connelly has changed." Dumbledore's bright blue eyes dimmed slightly,
"He became the most hated person he ever was, trying to cover his ears to deny any bad news."
"Albus, I know you won't regret—"
With a "bang", Aberforth slapped a glass of whiskey in front of Duoji.
"Thank you, Aberforth." Dorje smiled and picked up the wine glass and took a sip.
He and Dumbledore have been old friends for more than a century, and of course he knows the story of the two brothers.
"Albus, if you think about it—I mean if you want it, a lot of people would be happy to see Fudge go."
"You know I won't, Ephias."
"Yes." Duoji took another sip of whiskey.
The wine is spicy from the very beginning, and slowly transforms into a unique floral aroma.
"Aberforth, did you brew this last year?"
"I picked it up from the side of the road."
He knew that he was joking, and that he interrupted the conversation just now on impulse.
Dumbledore looked at the empty bar in front of him, shook his head and took out a simple little cloth bag from his robe.
"Honeyduke's trial product?" Duoji glanced at it curiously, and shuddered unconsciously.
"Yes, Ambrosio said eating it will make your teeth chatter and squeak like a mouse."
As Dumbledore said, he twisted a piece of cold transparent candy from inside.
"Albus, I have to remind you that it's November."
"This way the flavor can be better preserved." He put the candy in his mouth, "Don't you want to try it?"
Dorje picked up a piece carefully, shrugged his shoulders and trembled as soon as he put it in his mouth.
"Does it--squeak--does it have a--squeak-name?"
"Ambrosio hasn't figured it out yet, what do you think of the name Ice Mouse?"
"It's -- creak -- it's pretty good."
Dumbledore smiled and enjoyed the magical changes brought about by the candy without saying a word.
Probably the taste buds have been frozen, the initial sweetness has disappeared, leaving only the coldness far beyond ice.
He wondered if fresh ice grass from Siberia should be added to it.
This is a very soft plant, especially suitable for long-term storage.
After 5 minutes, Dorje stopped shaking.
He drank all the whiskey into his mouth, before the spiciness of the wine could be felt by his numb tongue, it all slid down his throat and into his stomach.
"Ah—I'm alive again!"
If you come to an ice mouse in the summer, it will be a very happy thing.
Forget it in winter, if you eat too much, it will definitely become an ice sculpture.
……
……
