Chapter 414 Hermione's Apology Letter
·
Nan Shan Dou Xi
Obviously, Harry didn't suddenly want to kill the Dursleys.
John saw through the window the old guy flying out of the door.
He gloated a little. It seemed that Meng Lang, the number one king in the magic world, also had his moments.
Harry followed, seemingly puzzled as to why this was happening all of a sudden.
"The seventh-level Iron Armor Curse can only bounce people away when Dumbledore is not paying attention."
John pondered, seeing a pair of eyes turn to this side.
He drew the curtains expressionlessly, and tapped the wall with his wand.
No probe from the outside can get inside.
Although the letter can be read clearly without a light, John still prefers to read it with the light on.
Most of the correspondence came from one address, a familiar one.
It was from Hermione.
With deep eyes, John sorted out the letters and put them aside.
He unwrapped what others had sent.
There was a letter of thanks from Lucius Malfoy, even though he knew that this was his son's friend, Lucius still maintained respect.
The same is true for Narcissa, who expressed concern in the thank you letter she sent.
Regarding the betrayal of Voldemort by the Malfoy family, they also cursed the Order of the Phoenix for breaking good things.
"Voldemort's revenge?" John moved his finger, and the drawer automatically opened and a quill popped out.
He wrote Narcissa a letter affirming her concerns.
The two Dark Lords were missing outside, and either one would deal a huge blow to a family like Malfoy.
Especially Voldemort, who has witnessed the effect of the Holy Grail, will inevitably not shift his target to the Holy Grail.
"Spread the news and let some people know that there is something that can live forever in Hogwarts."
John gave this task to Narcissa, who was the best candidate he could think of.
Lucius betrayed Voldemort for the second time, and his words may not be able to gain Voldemort's trust.
Narcissa was different. She never showed her face during the Ministry of Magic battle.
And she accomplished one thing for Voldemort, which allows Voldemort to retain some trust in her.
Trust Narcissa to know what to do.
The letter was delivered by Basil.
Pulling out the next one, John saw that it was an invitation.
"The Slug Club?" He stared at the letter.
It was from the new Headmaster, Slughorn, who seemed to have been emboldened by Voldemort's failure.
Even if he expressed concern about Hogwarts before, he only wrote a letter, and there was some evasion about the position of the headmaster.
In his letter, he invited John to join him in his private small class. Although he is the principal, he still can't break some habits.
Slughorn is a collector, but what he collects are not expensive or valuable things, but geniuses.
As the most dazzling existence in Hogwarts, John is undoubtedly his most wanted collection.
John took a look and stuffed the invitation into a drawer.
Slughorn was so impatient that he pushed the chips over to John.
Now it's not that John wants something from him, but that he needs something from John.
Between offense and defense, perhaps only one sentence will change.
Turning the hole card too early will not get the maximum benefit.
As John continued to pick up the next letter, he heard a knock on the window.
The curtains were drawn a slit, and he saw an owl tapping its beak against the window.
After opening, the owl flew in and dropped a letter.
John picked it up, it was from Hermione.
Judging from the number of these letters, Hermione wrote one every day on average.
He picked up the letter, flashing his first entry into nine and three-quarters.
"Like a reckless kid at that time." John laughed at himself.
Get your letters in order and start looking at the first letter.
It was like reading a long dissertation, with parchment crammed with tiny handwriting.
The theme of apology runs throughout the text.
"Hermione Granger..."
John stared absently at the reflection of the pile of letters on the table.
He could see Hermione's apology, and the guilt that had been repeated so many times.
But one step away, only one step away.
John closed his eyes.
Once a choice is made, it cannot be taken back.
Picking up the quill, he dipped in the ink, watching the black drops of water on the nib about to drip onto the parchment, and finally began to write a sentence.
The ink dries quickly after the pen is put down, so put it away and wait for the basil to come back before sending it.
John opened the drawer, and inside was a silver pocket watch with delicate lilies.
After Basil returned from delivering the letter, John handed him the pocket watch and the letter.
Basil protested twice, but was dismissed by a small dried fish.
After John finished processing the letter, Dumbledore also picked up Harry.
It's just that Dumbledore's beard was still a little blackened when he came out.
...
Harry couldn't figure out why the woodcarving turned into a big stuffed dog and came out to bite people, and he couldn't figure out where the Dursleys got their wizard chess soldiers.
As soon as Dumbledore entered and summoned the sofa for the Dursleys to sit down, he was bitten by the beard by the wooden dog sculpture behind.
Fortunately, there was no danger in the end, and Dumbledore achieved his goal and took Harry away.
But before leaving, Dumbledore wanted Harry to accompany him to a place.
He told Harry to take out the Invisibility Cloak, though Voldemort might be too busy for himself right now.
But you can't lose some defenses.
Luggage and Hedwig were cast by Dumbledore to the Burrow.
The two stood at Privet Drive, and Dumbledore made Harry hold his arm tightly.
After Harry did so, Dumbledore Apparated and Harry disappeared at the intersection.
Unlike the Portkey, Harry felt as if he had been squeezed into a tiny tube.
When he reappeared, he breathed heavily in the cold evening air.
Tears streamed from his eyes, and he felt like he was being squeezed out of a rubber tube.
It took two and a half seconds before he regained his composure.
He found himself off Privet Drive and in what seemed to be an abandoned village yard.
A monument stands in the middle, and several benches are scattered around.
"Are you okay?" Dumbledore looked down at him with concern and asked, "You need to get used to this feeling."
"I'm fine," Harry muttered, rubbing his ears as if they didn't belong to him, "but I seem to prefer flying on a broomstick."
Dumbledore wrapped his traveling cloak tightly around his neck and said with a smile, "This way."
He walked with strides.
Harry found the place to be deserted, an empty tavern and a few houses.
A clock in a church told him it was almost midnight.
"Then tell me, Harry," Dumbledore asked suddenly, "your scar, does it still hurt?"
Harry touched the scar subconsciously, it had become very shallow, as if nothing had happened.
"No more," said Harry dully, "it hasn't hurt since the Ministry of Magic."
He looked up at Dumbledore, and found that there was a kind of relief on his face, but also a kind of complicated regret.
"It seems that John has been honest with you on some matters," said Dumbledore. "Voldemort can no longer influence your thoughts."
"Professor, what kind of person do you think John is?" Harry asked hesitantly, "He is Johnny Silver Hand, and your position..."
"In his opinion, I am indeed not a qualified headmaster." Dumbledore shook his head slightly, "It seems that he is right, I am not suitable for that position."
They walked around a street corner, past a phone booth and a bus shelter.
Harry didn't understand where they were going.
"This is the charming village of Budley Barberton, Harry," said Dumbledore. "Oh, yes, I haven't told you yet."
Facing Harry's puzzled eyes, Dumbledore said, "Although I am no longer the headmaster, I still have to do something. Visit an old colleague, and maybe I can learn something."
"This old friend is a very intelligent man, and he also has contacts with some people."
Harry still didn't understand why he came here.
"He'll want to see you, Harry."
It was a cold night, and Harry scratched his cloak, looking at the rows of houses, wondering why he didn't Apparate.
"Because that would be as rude as kicking open the door of someone's house," said Dumbledore. "Politeness requires us to offer other wizards the chance to refuse us, but most wizarding houses have magic to ward off unwelcome apparitions." Shifter."
For some reason, Harry remembered Dumbledore's visit to the Dursleys.
Dumbledore insisted on going inside, the thing about being knocked into the air.
Maybe that's just unwanted guests and being rejected.
He shook his head, pushing the thought out.
"For example, Hogwarts is not allowed to Apparate in the castle and the grounds," Harry snapped, "Hermione Granger told me."
"She's right, we still need to turn left." Dumbledore straightened his beard.
The journey seemed very long, and they discussed some things, such as things about the Ministry of Magic.
"Barty Crouch is a very powerful character," Dumbledore said with some emotion. "He prepared a lot before Voldemort returned. I can't do better than him without letting all this disrupt the order of the wizarding world."
"However, some emotions are still exaggerated. The sales of Defense Against the Dark Arts props bought by every household are much higher."
They discussed and arrived at the destination this time.
A house with a broken front door hinge and the door askew.
Doesn't look like a good sign.
...
John saw through the window the old guy flying out of the door.
He gloated a little. It seemed that Meng Lang, the number one king in the magic world, also had his moments.
Harry followed, seemingly puzzled as to why this was happening all of a sudden.
"The seventh-level Iron Armor Curse can only bounce people away when Dumbledore is not paying attention."
John pondered, seeing a pair of eyes turn to this side.
He drew the curtains expressionlessly, and tapped the wall with his wand.
No probe from the outside can get inside.
Although the letter can be read clearly without a light, John still prefers to read it with the light on.
Most of the correspondence came from one address, a familiar one.
It was from Hermione.
With deep eyes, John sorted out the letters and put them aside.
He unwrapped what others had sent.
There was a letter of thanks from Lucius Malfoy, even though he knew that this was his son's friend, Lucius still maintained respect.
The same is true for Narcissa, who expressed concern in the thank you letter she sent.
Regarding the betrayal of Voldemort by the Malfoy family, they also cursed the Order of the Phoenix for breaking good things.
"Voldemort's revenge?" John moved his finger, and the drawer automatically opened and a quill popped out.
He wrote Narcissa a letter affirming her concerns.
The two Dark Lords were missing outside, and either one would deal a huge blow to a family like Malfoy.
Especially Voldemort, who has witnessed the effect of the Holy Grail, will inevitably not shift his target to the Holy Grail.
"Spread the news and let some people know that there is something that can live forever in Hogwarts."
John gave this task to Narcissa, who was the best candidate he could think of.
Lucius betrayed Voldemort for the second time, and his words may not be able to gain Voldemort's trust.
Narcissa was different. She never showed her face during the Ministry of Magic battle.
And she accomplished one thing for Voldemort, which allows Voldemort to retain some trust in her.
Trust Narcissa to know what to do.
The letter was delivered by Basil.
Pulling out the next one, John saw that it was an invitation.
"The Slug Club?" He stared at the letter.
It was from the new Headmaster, Slughorn, who seemed to have been emboldened by Voldemort's failure.
Even if he expressed concern about Hogwarts before, he only wrote a letter, and there was some evasion about the position of the headmaster.
In his letter, he invited John to join him in his private small class. Although he is the principal, he still can't break some habits.
Slughorn is a collector, but what he collects are not expensive or valuable things, but geniuses.
As the most dazzling existence in Hogwarts, John is undoubtedly his most wanted collection.
John took a look and stuffed the invitation into a drawer.
Slughorn was so impatient that he pushed the chips over to John.
Now it's not that John wants something from him, but that he needs something from John.
Between offense and defense, perhaps only one sentence will change.
Turning the hole card too early will not get the maximum benefit.
As John continued to pick up the next letter, he heard a knock on the window.
The curtains were drawn a slit, and he saw an owl tapping its beak against the window.
After opening, the owl flew in and dropped a letter.
John picked it up, it was from Hermione.
Judging from the number of these letters, Hermione wrote one every day on average.
He picked up the letter, flashing his first entry into nine and three-quarters.
"Like a reckless kid at that time." John laughed at himself.
Get your letters in order and start looking at the first letter.
It was like reading a long dissertation, with parchment crammed with tiny handwriting.
The theme of apology runs throughout the text.
"Hermione Granger..."
John stared absently at the reflection of the pile of letters on the table.
He could see Hermione's apology, and the guilt that had been repeated so many times.
But one step away, only one step away.
John closed his eyes.
Once a choice is made, it cannot be taken back.
Picking up the quill, he dipped in the ink, watching the black drops of water on the nib about to drip onto the parchment, and finally began to write a sentence.
The ink dries quickly after the pen is put down, so put it away and wait for the basil to come back before sending it.
John opened the drawer, and inside was a silver pocket watch with delicate lilies.
After Basil returned from delivering the letter, John handed him the pocket watch and the letter.
Basil protested twice, but was dismissed by a small dried fish.
After John finished processing the letter, Dumbledore also picked up Harry.
It's just that Dumbledore's beard was still a little blackened when he came out.
...
Harry couldn't figure out why the woodcarving turned into a big stuffed dog and came out to bite people, and he couldn't figure out where the Dursleys got their wizard chess soldiers.
As soon as Dumbledore entered and summoned the sofa for the Dursleys to sit down, he was bitten by the beard by the wooden dog sculpture behind.
Fortunately, there was no danger in the end, and Dumbledore achieved his goal and took Harry away.
But before leaving, Dumbledore wanted Harry to accompany him to a place.
He told Harry to take out the Invisibility Cloak, though Voldemort might be too busy for himself right now.
But you can't lose some defenses.
Luggage and Hedwig were cast by Dumbledore to the Burrow.
The two stood at Privet Drive, and Dumbledore made Harry hold his arm tightly.
After Harry did so, Dumbledore Apparated and Harry disappeared at the intersection.
Unlike the Portkey, Harry felt as if he had been squeezed into a tiny tube.
When he reappeared, he breathed heavily in the cold evening air.
Tears streamed from his eyes, and he felt like he was being squeezed out of a rubber tube.
It took two and a half seconds before he regained his composure.
He found himself off Privet Drive and in what seemed to be an abandoned village yard.
A monument stands in the middle, and several benches are scattered around.
"Are you okay?" Dumbledore looked down at him with concern and asked, "You need to get used to this feeling."
"I'm fine," Harry muttered, rubbing his ears as if they didn't belong to him, "but I seem to prefer flying on a broomstick."
Dumbledore wrapped his traveling cloak tightly around his neck and said with a smile, "This way."
He walked with strides.
Harry found the place to be deserted, an empty tavern and a few houses.
A clock in a church told him it was almost midnight.
"Then tell me, Harry," Dumbledore asked suddenly, "your scar, does it still hurt?"
Harry touched the scar subconsciously, it had become very shallow, as if nothing had happened.
"No more," said Harry dully, "it hasn't hurt since the Ministry of Magic."
He looked up at Dumbledore, and found that there was a kind of relief on his face, but also a kind of complicated regret.
"It seems that John has been honest with you on some matters," said Dumbledore. "Voldemort can no longer influence your thoughts."
"Professor, what kind of person do you think John is?" Harry asked hesitantly, "He is Johnny Silver Hand, and your position..."
"In his opinion, I am indeed not a qualified headmaster." Dumbledore shook his head slightly, "It seems that he is right, I am not suitable for that position."
They walked around a street corner, past a phone booth and a bus shelter.
Harry didn't understand where they were going.
"This is the charming village of Budley Barberton, Harry," said Dumbledore. "Oh, yes, I haven't told you yet."
Facing Harry's puzzled eyes, Dumbledore said, "Although I am no longer the headmaster, I still have to do something. Visit an old colleague, and maybe I can learn something."
"This old friend is a very intelligent man, and he also has contacts with some people."
Harry still didn't understand why he came here.
"He'll want to see you, Harry."
It was a cold night, and Harry scratched his cloak, looking at the rows of houses, wondering why he didn't Apparate.
"Because that would be as rude as kicking open the door of someone's house," said Dumbledore. "Politeness requires us to offer other wizards the chance to refuse us, but most wizarding houses have magic to ward off unwelcome apparitions." Shifter."
For some reason, Harry remembered Dumbledore's visit to the Dursleys.
Dumbledore insisted on going inside, the thing about being knocked into the air.
Maybe that's just unwanted guests and being rejected.
He shook his head, pushing the thought out.
"For example, Hogwarts is not allowed to Apparate in the castle and the grounds," Harry snapped, "Hermione Granger told me."
"She's right, we still need to turn left." Dumbledore straightened his beard.
The journey seemed very long, and they discussed some things, such as things about the Ministry of Magic.
"Barty Crouch is a very powerful character," Dumbledore said with some emotion. "He prepared a lot before Voldemort returned. I can't do better than him without letting all this disrupt the order of the wizarding world."
"However, some emotions are still exaggerated. The sales of Defense Against the Dark Arts props bought by every household are much higher."
They discussed and arrived at the destination this time.
A house with a broken front door hinge and the door askew.
Doesn't look like a good sign.
...
