HP Approaches the Magical World

Chapter 809 Hermione vomited

"gentlemen,"

Harry said tentatively, "Is what you want to tell me related to that prophecy? Is it to help me...to survive?"

"It has a lot to do with that prophecy."

Dumbledore said, in such a casual tone, as if Harry was asking him what the weather would be like tomorrow, "Of course I hope it helps you survive."

Dumbledore stood up, walked around the table, and passed Harry.

Harry turned eagerly in his chair, watching Dumbledore bent over the chest by the door.

When Dumbledore straightened up, he was holding a familiar shallow stone basin in his hand, with a circle of strange symbols engraved on the mouth of the basin.

He placed the Pensieve on the table in front of Harry.

"You look worried."

Indeed, Harry looked at the Pensieve with apprehensive and apprehensive eyes.

His previous experiences with this curious receptacle of thought and memory, though illuminating, had been uncomfortable.

For example, when he broke in without authorization last time, he saw many things he didn't want to see.

Dumbledore was smiling, though.

"This time, you entered the Pensieve with me...and, more unusually, you were allowed."

"Where are we going, sir?"

"Take a walk down memory lane with Bob Ogden."

As he spoke, Dumbledore took out a crystal bottle from his pocket, which contained a spinning and floating silver-white thing.

"Who is Bob Ogden?"

"He worked in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement."

Dumbledore said, "He's been dead for some time.

But before he died, I managed to find him and persuade him to tell me these memories.

Now, we're going to accompany him to one of the places he went on a mission.

Harry, you stand up..."

But Dumbledore couldn't remove the cork from the crystal bottle: his injured hand seemed to be in pain and wouldn't work.

"Shall I come, sir?"

"It's okay, Harry—"

Dumbledore pointed to the bottle with his wand, and the cork jumped out immediately.

"Sir—how did you hurt your hand?"

Harry looked at the blackened fingers with a mix of disgust and sympathy, and asked again.

"Now is not the time to talk about it, Harry, not yet.

We have a date with Bob Ogden. "

Dumbledore poured the silvery substance from the bottle into the Pensieve, where they swirled slowly, shimmering faintly, neither liquid nor gas.

"You go in first."

Dumbledore pointed to the Pensieve and said.

Harry leaned forward, took a deep breath, and plunged into the silvery substance.

He felt his feet leave the office floor.

He fell through the swirling darkness, fell, fell, and suddenly the blinding sun blinded him.

Before his eyes could adjust, Dumbledore landed beside him.

They were standing on a country lane between tall, tangled hedgerows of shrubs and above them a summer sky clear and blue like forget-me-nots.

About ten paces in front of them stood a short, stocky man with extremely thick spectacles, the eyes of which were reduced to two points, like those of a mole.

He was reading a wooden signpost sticking out of the brambles on the left side of the path.

Harry knew it must be Ogden, because he couldn't see anyone else, and like those inexperienced wizards who wanted to look like Muggles, he was dressed in the odd outfit: a striped bathing suit. He wore a frock coat and shoe covers on his feet.

As soon as Harry finished sizing up his strange appearance, Ogden walked quickly down the path.

Dumbledore and Harry followed. As he passed the wooden signpost, Harry looked up at its two pointing arrows.

The one pointing the way they came reads: Great Hangleton, 5 miles.

Pointing in the direction Ogden was going reads: Little Hangleton, 1 mile.

They walked for a while, seeing nothing but tall bushes and hedges on either side, the vast blue summer sky overhead, and the rustling figure in front of them in a frock coat.

Then the path turned to the left and descended steeply along the hillside, so they suddenly and unexpectedly found a valley, which was presented in front of them at a glance.

Harry saw a village, which was undoubtedly Little Hangleton, set between two steep hills, with the church and cemetery clearly visible.

On the hillside opposite the valley, there is a very grand mansion surrounded by a large green grassland.

Because the downhill road was too steep, Ogden couldn't help trotting.

Dumbledore took a longer step, and Harry quickened his pace to follow.

He thought Little Hangleton must be their final destination, and he wondered, as they had done the night they went to Slughorn, why they had to walk so far.

Soon he realized that he had made a mistake and that they were not going to that village.

The path turned right, and by the time they had rounded that bend, the hem of Ogden's frock coat flickered and he disappeared in a gap in the fence.

Dumbledore and Harry followed him down a narrow dirt road,

The hedgerows on either side were taller and thicker than those they had just passed.

The dirt road was winding, potholed, and full of rocks. It went down as steeply as the path just now, and seemed to lead to a small piece of dark woods below.

Sure enough, the dirt road joined the underbrush within a short distance. Ogden stopped, drew his wand, and Dumbledore and Harry stopped behind him.

"In fact, I think this is the case when a person's followers appear for the first time,"

Jon leaned against a tree, looked at Hermione who was vomiting and said, "But I never thought that your reaction would be so big, but it's normal, just wait until you learn to apparate yourself."

Originally, he didn't intend to use Apparition to come here, but the Ministry of Magic is no longer the former Ministry of Magic, so he no longer uses Apparition, which is relatively more wasteful of magic power.

Although there is not much less, it is still dangerous to cut through the space. If he is alone, of course there is no problem, but with Hermione, it is better to choose a safer way.

Hermione was about to spit out bile, of course she wanted to use the wand to cast a spell on herself, but she couldn't even pronounce a complete spell, and Jon stood by, looking at no intention of helping .

Not at all like a teacher.

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