HP Approaches the Magical World

Where did Dumbledore go?

What is he doing?

In the next few weeks, Harry only saw the Headmaster twice.

Since he rarely showed up at meals these days, it seemed Hermione was right to think that the headmaster was away for days at a time.

Had Dumbledore forgotten that he was supposed to give himself private lessons?

Dumbledore said that those lessons were ultimately about that prophecy.

Harry, who had felt encouraged and secure, now felt a little abandoned.

In mid-October they went to Hogsmeade for the first time this term.

Harry had thought they would not be allowed to go to Hogsmeade, as the security around the school was getting tighter.

Now that he knew he was still going, he was very happy.

It's nice to get out of the castle, even if it's just for a few hours.

On the morning of going to Hogsmeade, there was a strong wind blowing outside, Harry woke up very early, and he flicked through the "Advanced Potion Making" to while away the time before breakfast.

Of course he doesn't usually lie in bed and read textbooks. On this point, Ron is right. This kind of behavior is indecent on anyone except Hermione, and Hermione's doing it just looks a little Just weird.

But Harry felt that the Half-Blood Prince's "Advanced Potion Making" was not a textbook at all.

The more Harry studied the book, the richer it seemed to him.

Not only are there easy-to-follow hints and shortcuts - the very things that earned Harry Slughorn warm praise,

Moreover, there are many creative little curses and little magic in the blank space of the book.

Judging from the scribbled and altered handwriting, Harry felt that these things were all invented by the prince himself.

"Actually, you are a very smart wizard. Until now, I haven't figured out why you chose to join the team of Death Eaters after graduation. If you don't join their team, you can still become a very Celebrity."

"Becoming a Death Eater...was a wrong decision of mine. I was still very young when I made this decision, and at that time, it was not a very shameful thing to be a subordinate of Voldemort. In the family of pure-blood wizards There’s a sense of accomplishment in there.”

There was nothing to do tonight, so Jon chose to drink some tea with Snape and talk about the past stories. After all, he was actually quite curious about why Snape became a Death Eater.

"But you are not a pure-blood wizard, and you have a deep hatred with some people who were born as pure-blood wizards, or is it because of these hatreds that you choose to join Voldemort's team?"

"Actually, I don't know, whether I hate Potter that much is a mystery.

If he is still alive now, maybe there will be an answer, but he is dead, and so is Lily. I have always regretted not seeing him for the last time before I died, but this matter cannot be resolved by regret after all.

Dumbledore can be resurrected after death, but Lily is just a Muggle-born wizard. Although she married into the Potter family, she doesn't have such a deep background and strong strength, let alone she used the level of the Sacrifice Curse. Magic... a lot of the time I'm thinking,

Is it really worth it for a child? "

"Of course it's worth it, why have a picture of your mother on your desk?

For the sake of children, mothers can do many things, even if they sacrifice their own lives, I never doubt that. "

"Yeah, mother can always do a lot of things, but unfortunately, she chose a wrong man, if she chooses..."

"Of course she won't choose you, you just think that the two of you used to have a relationship in the past, so she should like you, but in this world, how can there be such a good thing?

People, always want to see what they want to see, but often ignore those things that also happen but don't want to see. "

"yes."

"Speaking of which, do you know about that?"

Jon asked tentatively.

"You mean Dumbledore's arrangement for Harry?

I know it, but what's the use of knowing it?

I couldn't save his mother back then, and I can't change his fate now. "

"Don't worry, as time goes by, everything is back on track, you have to protect yourself, I'm still waiting, you will be the president of my university."

"Really? I'll try my best."

Snape put down his teacup, then stood up.

"Speaking of which, recently our boys are learning the spells I left behind. Are you sure you don't interfere? These spells are not good spells."

"Our boy has grown up and always needs to learn to face the world on his own. It's good to let him learn some methods in advance."

Hearing Jon's answer, Snape turned around and asked him one last question.

"Will you still save people?"

"What?"

"I mean, do you still save people? Like saving Sirius, just come down and die afterwards?"

"No, unless there is a real need."

Jon drank the last bit of tea in his cup and said flatly.

"When I save people, I always have regrets in my heart, but these regrets will always disappear with time. In fact, I don't have such a strong feeling of regret anymore. It doesn't matter whether those people will die or not. relationship, I started to care less about it."

"Yeah, time will pass these things." Snape snorted, "Welcome to the real world at last."

...

...

Harry had already tried several spells invented by the prince in the past two days.

One of the curses is to make people's toes grow wildly. He secretly experimented with Crabbe in the corridor, and the effect was very interesting;

There is also a spell that glues a person's tongue to the roof of the mouth. The effect of this spell was tested on Filch. At that time, Filch did not try to resist. He did not discover the existence of this spell. But when he talked about it with Jon, he realized that Harry had already got the result he wanted, and Jon was not doing anything;

The most useful of those spells, then, is the ear-plug spell, which fills the ears of everyone around with an indistinguishable buzzing sound, so that in class one can chat as one pleases, Not afraid of being heard by others, Jon is very interesting about this spell, because he always thought that this spell was a normal inherited spell, but he ignored this spell, which was originally created by Snape of.

After all, he only used the earplug spell once on the train back to Hogwarts, and he never used this spell again. The appearance of the force field replaced most of his concealment magic. Who doesn't like a force field that's quick and easy to cast a spell with the wave of a wand?

On Harry's side, Hermione is the only one who thinks these magics are not fun. When Harry uses these magics, she always keeps a straight face, with a look of disapproval,

If Harry cast a Silencer Charm on anyone nearby, she simply didn't say a word.

Because she doesn't need to use these magics at all, to be honest, her intelligence is not much worse than Snape's, and if she wants, she can also create some magic herself, it's just a matter of time, so this time It might be a bit long, and under the circumstances, she didn't have the time to spend on this kind of thing.

But even so, she can ignore it.

But Harry was different.

Whether it's Harry or Ron, neither of them is that kind of smart person. You can see this from their grades. They don't have this kind of brain. If they live in a different place, Hermione If it was a little wizard who was born in a pure-blood wizard family, then maybe there would be a different result.

Go back to the bedroom.

Harry sat up on the bed, turning his textbook on its side, and pored over a spell in scrawled handwriting on which the Prince seemed to have had a lot of trouble.

After countless times of scribbling and correcting, finally on the corner of the page, these words were written crowded together:

Fuchsia (silent).

The wind, wrapped in sleet, beat relentlessly on the window, Neville snored loudly, and Harry stared at the two words in brackets.

Silent... Definitely a silent spell.

Harry wondered if he'd be able to master this particular spell, because it seemed a little difficult.

He was still not comfortable with silent spells, and Snape was constantly making comments about it in Defense Against the Dark Arts.

In fact, the prince taught Harry much more than Snape.

Harry pointed at a random place with his wand, flicked it up slightly, and said silently in his mind: Fuchsia!

"Ah ah ah ah ah!"

A bright light flashed, and the room was in chaos.

Ron let out a scream that woke everyone up, and Harry threw away Advanced Potion-Making in a panic.

Ron was hanging head-down in the air, as if an invisible hook had caught his ankle, hanging him upside down.

"sorry!"

Harry yelled, and Dean and Seamus laughed aloud, and Neville was slowly getting up after falling to the ground: "Wait - I'll put you down right now -"

He found the potions book and frantically flipped through the page just now.

At last he found it, and he made out the words huddled under the spell: Harry prayed to himself that this would be the solution, and then, concentrating on it, said in his head: Admiralty strikes!

There was another flash of light, and Ron fell on the bed in a heap.

"sorry."

Harry said it again softly, and Dean and Seamus were still laughing.

"I hope you'll set the alarm clock tomorrow. If you come here a few times, I'm going to be thrown to death by you."

The two of them got dressed, puffed over several sweaters knitted by Mrs. Weasley, and took cloaks, scarves and gloves.

Ron had recovered from the shock just now, and thought Harry's new spell was very interesting.

In fact, he thought the spell was so much fun that he couldn't wait to tell Hermione about it as soon as they sat down to breakfast.

"...then there was another flash of light, and I fell back on the bed!"

said Ron, grinning, as he made himself a sausage.

Hermione listened, but without a hint of a smile on her face, she turned to Harry disapprovingly with a stern face.

During the recent period, her expression has been very rare, because Jon told her that an excellent politician should be a person who does not show his emotions and anger, and keeps his thoughts from being revealed, even if he has a straight face and a cold expression. It has been maintained, and it is much better than various appearances.

Because some people are born with facial paralysis.

It's just that beside the group of people she is familiar with, she still can't make such a state, and still needs to sharpen.

But it has already started now. If necessary, she can still make corresponding disguises and emotions. For example, she should be angry now, so she can show an angry state.

"Perhaps this spell is in your potions book again?"

Harry frowned at her.

"You always jump to the worst conclusions right away, don't you?"

"Is it really?"

"Okay... that's right, so what?"

"You actually decided to experiment with a handwritten unfamiliar spell to see what would happen?"

"What about handwritten?"

Harry deliberately avoided answering other questions.

"Because it's probably forbidden by the Ministry of Magic."

Seeing Harry and Ron roll their eyes, she added, "Besides, because I'm starting to think that this guy named Prince is a little unreliable."

Harry and Ron told her to shut up at the same time.

"That's a joke!"

Ron poured a bottle of ketchup upside down on his sausages and said, "Just kidding, Hermione, it's nothing serious, please don't make such a fuss!"

"Hook the ankles and hang people upside down?" Hermione asked. "Who would take the time and effort to make up a spell like that?"

"Fred and George," said Ron, shrugging, "that's what they do.

And, uh-"

"My dad."

Harry said this surprised his friends.

But in fact, he was also quite surprised, he just remembered this incident.

"What?"

Ron and Hermione asked simultaneously.

"My dad used that spell."

Harry said, "I - Lupine told me."

That last sentence is not true.

In fact, Harry had seen his father perform the spell on Snape, but he had never told Ron and Hermione about his experience in the Pensieve.

Now, however, a curious possibility occurred to him.

Could the Half-Blood Prince be—?

"Maybe your dad used it, Harry," said Hermione, "but your dad wasn't the only one who used it.

We've seen a whole bunch of people using it, maybe you've forgotten.

Suspend people in mid-air and let them float on top, groggy and powerless. "

Harry stared at her blankly. He also thought of what the Death Eaters had done at the Quidditch World Cup, and his heart sank. Ron came out and relieved him.

"That's two different things," he said carelessly. "They're abusing the magic. Harry and his dad were just joking around. Hermione, you don't like princes," he said gravely, pointing at Hermione with a sausage." It's because he's better at Potions than you—"

"It has nothing to do with that!" said Hermione, her cheeks flushed all of a sudden, "I just think it's very irresponsible to use a magic without knowing what it's for. Yeah, stop talking about 'Prince' like that's his title, I bet it's just a stupid nickname and he doesn't sound like a decent person to me!"

"I don't know where you got that impression," said Harry excitedly, "if he'd been an underage Death Eater, he wouldn't have kept saying he was 'half-blood', would he? "

As Harry said that, he remembered that his father was pure-blood, but he pushed the thought out of his mind and thought about it later...

"Death Eaters... can't all be pure-blooded, there aren't many pure-blooded wizards anymore."

Hermione said stubbornly, "I guess most of them are half-bloods pretending to be pure-bloods.

They only hate Muggle-borns, so they must be happy to have you and Ron in their gang. "

"Don't make me a Death Eater!"

Ron said angrily. He waved the fork in his hand at Hermione, and a small piece of sausage on the fork flew out and hit Ernie MacMillan on the head: "Our whole family betrayed our blood! From the point of view of the Dead, it's as bad as Muggle-born!"

But in fact, his anger was unreasonable. Hermione glanced at him and felt that Ron was still young. She suddenly remembered what Jon had said to her, don't worry about things like feelings, so in fact, this matter can go on Procrastinate.

She can still investigate for a while, anyway, everyone is very young now.

There's no need to be bound to someone so early, is there?

But some dull people obviously didn't realize that in this short moment, the girl beside him had undergone such a big change of attitude.

If he knew, would he regret his stupid behavior just now?

Perhaps, there is such a chance that it will.

As for the remaining 9999/10,000, Hermione knew the answer well.

"But I think the Death Eaters are likely to want me." At least Harry is better than Ron in understanding emotions. Although he spoke in a sarcastic tone, he was indeed trying to ease the atmosphere: " If they hadn't always tried to kill me, maybe we would be good brothers by now, isn't it, these things are always hard to say, just like Snape, although everyone thinks he's not very good Popular, but I think if he'd been nicer to us, someone would be willing to make friends with him."

"I don't think Snape would be happy to hear that, and besides," Hermione looked around cautiously, "if he heard it, you'd be in detention again."

"Who is going to be imprisoned?"

Ginny's head poked out from behind them, a puzzled look on her face.

"No, no one, we were just joking."

Hermione explained, but because of her expression, the explanation seemed a little pale.

Fortunately, Ginny didn't care about it, she was here to deliver the letter.

"Oh, Harry, this is for you."

It was a roll of parchment with Harry's name written on it in that familiar long, thin, sideways script.

"Thank you, Ginny... Dumbledore is teaching me again!"

said Harry to Ron and Hermione again, flipping through the contents of the parchment as he unfolded it.

"Monday night!"

Hermione looked at his expression. At least from his expression, it could be seen that Harry was very happy and relaxed now, not as preoccupied as before.

And even his attitude and tone of speaking with Ginny seemed a lot lighter.

"By the way, are you coming to Hogsmeade with us, Ginny?"

"No, I'm going with Dean—maybe see you there."

After she finished speaking, she waved to them, turned and left.

Filch today stood at the oak gate as usual, checking the names of the students who were allowed to go to Hogsmeade one by one.

It took longer than usual, as Filch ran his spy device over and over each of them.

"What does it matter if we smuggle out the dark magic item?"

Ron stared nervously at the long, thin spy device and asked, "I'm afraid you should check what we brought in?"

He got a few extra pokes from the spy for his swearing, and grinned in pain as they walked outside into the wind and rain and snow.

"And why should you have a hard time with Filch? What good would it do you to offend him?"

It seemed that today was not going well. From the time they met Filch, they were very uncomfortable all the way to Hogsmeade on foot.

First of all, it was because of the cold weather. Hermione followed Harry's example and wrapped her face in a scarf, but the exposed part was still very painful from the cold very quickly, and then it became numb.

On the road leading to the entrance of the village, you can see students bending forward against the wind everywhere.

This made the trio wonder more than once that they might be happier if they stayed in the warm common room in such horrible weather.

When they finally reached Hogsmeade, they saw Zonko's Joke Shop boarded up, which Harry took as further proof that the trip was destined to be no fun.

Ron pointed his thickly gloved finger at the Honeydukes Candy Shop, which was, reassuringly, still open, and Harry and Hermione followed Ron staggeringly towards the crowded little shop. .

"Thank God," said Ron shivering as the warm breath filled with the smell of toffee hit his face, "let's just stay here for an afternoon."

But things always go against each other. When the three of them turned around, they saw Professor Slughorn. He was wearing a huge plush hat and a coat with a matching plush collar. Holding a large bag of candied pineapple in his hand, he occupies at least a quarter of the small shop.

"Harry, you've already missed three of my small dinner parties!"

Slughorn poked Harry affectionately in the chest: "That's not okay, boy, I was determined to ask you to come! Miss Granger loves these parties, doesn't she?"

"Yes,"

Hermione didn't really like it, but she could only say helplessly, "They really—"

"Then why don't you come, Harry?" Slughorn asked sharply.

"I'm going to Quidditch practice, Professor."

Indeed, every time Slughorn sent him a small invitation with a purple ribbon, he deliberately arranged for the team to practice.

This strategy ensured that Ron was not left alone, and they often laughed together with Ginny imagining Hermione locked up with McLaggen and Zabini.

"Okay, you have trained so hard, you will definitely win the first game!"

"It doesn't hurt to have a little entertainment now and then, though," Slughorn said.

So, how about Monday night, you can't train in this weather..."

"No, Professor, I - I have an appointment with Professor Dumbledore that evening."

"It's unfortunate again!"

Professor Slughorn yelled exaggeratedly: "Ah, well...you can't hide from me forever, Harry!"

He waved his hand and swaggered out of the candy store, not noticing Ron as if he were just a bunch of cockroaches on display in the store.

"I can't believe it, I let you escape again."

Hermione shook her head and said, "That party wasn't that bad actually...sometimes it's kind of fun...if you..."

Suddenly seeing the look on Ron's face, she changed the subject immediately out of tenderness for her friend: "Oh look - they have premium lollipop quills - they'll suck for hours!"

Harry was thankful Hermione had changed the subject, and he pretended to be particularly interested in the new oversized lollipop quill, but Ron still looked sullen, and he just shrugged when Hermione asked him where he wanted to go next. Shoulder.

"Let's go to the Three Broomsticks," said Harry. "It's sure to be warm in there."

They wrapped their scarves around their faces again and left the candy shop.

Fresh from the warm, sweet Honeydukes, the cold wind blew on their faces like knives.

The street was relatively deserted, no one stopped to chat, everyone was hurrying, going straight to where they were going.

The only exceptions were the two people in front of them. The two of them were standing just outside the Three Broomsticks. One of them was tall and thin. It turned out that he was the barman at another pub in Hogsmeade, the Hog's Head.

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As Harry, Ron, and Hermione approached, the barman wrapped his cloak around his neck and turned away, leaving the short man fumbling with something in his arms.

They were within a step of the man when Harry suddenly recognized him.

"Mundungus!"

The man with splayed legs, messy hair, and long ginger hair was startled. An antique small suitcase in his arms bounced off the ground. There were all kinds of things in it, like an antique shop. The contents of the window.

"Oh, hello, Harry," said Mundungus Fletcher, with an air of very briskness that was nothing like it: "don't let me take your time."

He squatted on the ground and fumbled to pick up the things in the box, looking eager to leave immediately.

"Are you selling these things?"

Harry asked as he watched Mundungus grab a bunch of assorted, tattered things from the ground.

"Oh, there is no way, I have to find a way to stay alive."

Mundungus pointed to something on the ground and said, "Give that to me!"

Ron was crouching down to pick up a silverware.

"etc,"

Ron said slowly, "This one looks familiar—"

"Thanks!"

As he spoke, Mundungus snatched the goblet from Ron's hand and stuffed it into the box: "Okay, see you later - ouch!"

Harry grabbed Mundungus by the neck and pushed him against the wall outside the pub.

He held him tightly with one hand and drew his wand with the other.

"Harry!"

"You stole this thing from Sirius' house." Harry and Mundungus almost touched noses, smelling a smell of tobacco and spirits: "It has the coat of arms of the Black family on it."

Mundungus stammered and faltered, his face slowly turning into a liver color.

"What did you do?

On the night he died, you went and ransacked the place? "

Harry was so pissed off, even Hermione gripped her wand, it was just so irritating, what was that? It's disgusting to deal with this kind of garbage.

But the reason she held on to her wand was because she had to be on guard against Harry killing Mundungus.

"Harry, you can't kill him, don't be so impulsive, once you kill him, you will be arrested by the Ministry of Magic!"

Hermione said it looked like Mundungus had turned blue by this time.

Suddenly, there was a loud bang, and Harry felt his hands bounce off Mundungus' neck.

Panting for breath, Mundungus grabbed the box that had fallen to the floor, and with a bang, Apparated.

Harry cursed at the top of his voice, and walked around in circles to see where Mundungus had gone.

"It's no use, Harry."

Tonks appeared out of nowhere, her gray-brown hair wet from the rain and snow.

"Mundungus is probably in London by now, and there's no use in shouting."

"He stole from Sirius! He stole!"

"Yeah, but,"

Tonks seemed completely indifferent to the news, and looked very indifferent: "You shouldn't stay here and suffer from the cold."

Hermione glanced at her and probably guessed that Tonks knew the inside story.

After all, Sirius is not dead in the first place. According to the news from Jon later, Sirius has given up the house of the Black family, left it to Harry, and gave up all the things in it.

Harry now feels that those things are the sustenance left to him by Sirius, but in fact, Sirius doesn't care much about this stuff, and he doesn't lack this kind of wealth. The wealth accumulated by the Black family for many generations is in his He still has a treasury in his hand, so why would he care about such things?

Tonks didn't know that Hermione already knew, and Hermione didn't want Tonks to know that she did, so she said nothing and followed Harry and Ron into the door of the Three Broomsticks.

It's just that Harry yelled angrily as soon as he entered the bar: "He was stealing from Sirius!"

"I know, Harry, but please stop shouting, people are watching you."

Hermione comforted in a low voice: "Go and sit down, I'll bring you a drink."

She had no other choice, after all, she couldn't tell Harry bluntly that Sirius was not dead yet.

A few minutes later, Hermione returned to their table with three bottles of Butterbeer, where Harry was still throwing a tantrum.

"Can't the people in the society keep an eye on Mundungus?"

Harry whispered angrily, and Hermione and the others could only listen, but they couldn't empathize with the emotion: "Can't they keep an eye on him when he's at headquarters?

At least don't let him steal everything he can move! "

"Hush!"

Hermione said anxiously, looking around to see if anyone was eavesdropping.

The two wizards sitting nearby stared at Harry with great interest, and Zabini leaned lazily on a pillar not far away.

"Well, Harry, I know you're angry, I understand, I'd be angry too, after all we both know he stole from you—"

Harry choked on the butterbeer.

He forgot for a moment that he was already the owner of Twelve Grimmauld Place.

"Yeah, it's mine!"

He snorted coldly: "No wonder he saw me so guilty!

Hum, I'm going to tell Dumbledore about this, Mundungus is afraid of him alone. "

"Good idea." Hermione was clearly pleased to see Harry finally calm down, so he had time to look the other way: "Ron, what are you staring at?"

"nothing."

As Ron said, he hurriedly looked away from the bar. Harry knew that he was trying to attract the attention of the charming proprietress, Mrs. Rosmerta. Ron had secretly liked her for a long time.

"Yeah?

I think your 'nothing' is getting more Firewhiskey in the back? "

For some reason, Hermione suddenly uttered such a bitter sentence, and after she finished speaking, she herself felt a little inappropriate.

But Ron naturally ignored the sarcasm. He just drank his butterbeer slowly without saying a word, obviously thinking that his style was noble and deep.

Harry was thinking about Sirius again, and he remembered how much Sirius had hated those silver goblets.

Hermione tapped her fingers on the table, looking from Ron to the bar.

She suddenly felt that such a life was so boring.

Because of a certain youthful emotion, I suddenly let the emotion I practiced out of control. If the teacher knows what she looks like, he will be very disappointed.

She suddenly remembered that Jon had said before that she should not go to him these days, but today she really wanted to talk to someone.

So she began to quietly use magic power to send a message to Jon in the notebook.

"Teacher, can I see you today?"

Jon happened to be fine. He thought Hermione must have something important. After all, he had just told Hermione not to look for him if he was fine.

Since there are important matters, it is not impossible to meet up.

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