Infinite Heroes Seat

　　 In the village of Budley Barberton, the church rang midnight, and a figure suddenly appeared on the street. After looking around, he walked into a neat little stone house in the garden.

　　 That is a narrow porch with an open door on the left.

　　 Mo Wen opened the door of the hall, and there was a mess in front of him. An old grandfather clock smashed to his feet, the clock face was cracked, and the pendulum lay a little further away, like an abandoned sword. A piano fell to the ground, and its keys were scattered around. There was also a shattered chandelier gleaming nearby. The cushions were thrown all over in a mess, deflated, feathers came out of the cracks, broken glass and broken porcelain were scattered all over the floor like powder, and a lot of dark red sticky things were splashed on the wallpaper.

　　 frowned, Mo Wen took out his wand, a red light hit an armchair with a bulging cushion, and the chair let out a scream: "Ouch!"

　　 "Good evening, Mr. Horace Slughorn!" Mo Wen said calmly.

　　 That armchair turned into a bald, fat old man squatting there in the blink of an eye. He rubbed his belly and squinted at Mo Wen with a painful, tearful eye. "Damn, who are you kid!"

　　 In the dark night, Mo Wen's eyesight was not affected due to his perfect bloodliness, but this old man didn't work well. Although Mo Wen was a young man judging from his voice and appearance, his appearance was unclear.

　　 "Sorry, I was negligent!" Mo Wen blinked and stretched out his hand, a bright light appeared in the room.

　　 "Except your weapons!" The moment the light appeared, Horace shot.

　　 The red light passed through Mo Wen's figure, and a feather was thrown into the air with a ‘bang’.

　　 The pupils in Horace's eyes shrank. Just as he wanted to do something, a magic wand was already placed behind his back.

　　 "If I were you, Mr. Holas, I would be more honest." Mo Wen's cold voice came from behind him.

　　 "Don't, don't be impulsive, Mr. Guris, I don't have any bad intentions. Just, just now, I was just playing around." Cold sweat leaked from Horace's forehead.

　　 "Do you know who I am?" Mo Wen was a little puzzled. He probably hasn't seen Horace before, and the room was so dark just now.

Horace stammered, "Of course, your golden and silver eyes are so different. These are the appearances of bloodline mutation or extreme magical power. Among young people, except for the famous Guris, I'm afraid There will be no other one."

"That's it," Mo Wen finally understood, but his eyes were exposed. Although the room was dark, there was still a ray of light. I am afraid that his eyes will be more conspicuous in this situation. Did you wake up yourself? However, this old guy knew who he was early in the morning, and would make a sneak attack, and he was not a good person.

He took Horace’s wand and Mo Wen waved his hand. Pieces of furniture in the house jumped back to their original positions. The decorations returned to their original shape in mid-air, and the feathers went back into the cushions and were damaged. The books are automatically repaired and arranged neatly on the shelves. The oil lamp flew to the small table by the wall and lit again. A large pile of shattered silver picture frames flickered to the other side of the room, and landed on a writing desk, becoming as bright as new again. The broken, torn, and open places in the room were restored as before. The stains on the wall are also wiped clean automatically.

　　 Sitting on a comfortable chair, Mo Wen said to Horace, "Mr. Slughorn, please sit down, I think we have a lot to talk about."

Although Mo Wen, who has read the original book, knew exactly how many Horcruxes Voldemort had, Dumbledore didn’t know. He wanted to tell him the truth. It’s obviously impossible to tell him the truth. It’s a must to come to Slughorn. .

　　 Horace also found a chair and sat down, humming comfortably as soon as his fat body touched the cushion.

　　 "How was I discovered? There shouldn't be any problems with the layout?"

Mo Wen Yile, "Because I should be considered a member of the Death Eaters, and a group of extremely vicious thugs were released just now. I still know whether we have attacked people like you." In the golden and silver pupils Shot out an icy light.

　　 "What!" Horace jumped up and pointed at Mo Wen with trembling hands, "You are a Death Eater!"

　　 Sweat kept streaming down from Horace's head, his gaze kept sweeping towards the door, but at last he sat back down again. He knew very well that he couldn't escape after losing his wand.

　　 "He sent you?" His voice was a little hoarse, and he muttered to himself, "I knew I couldn't escape this day."

　　 "No, Dumbledore sent me." Mo Wen said unhurriedly, and with a wave of his wand in his hand, a cup full of hot tea appeared in his hand.

"What!" A look of surprise broke out in Horace's eyes. He knew Dumbledore. The other party wanted his memory instead of killing him. If this young man was really sent by Dumbledore, he would be fine. Life is in danger.

　　 "Which side are you from?" He was a little embarrassed. It is not a pleasant thing for an old man who is about to fall into the ground to be played by a young man who is less than twenty years old.

　　 "Neither way," Mo Wen took a leisurely sip of tea, "Old Batty Crouch, Hinenick, Scrimgeour..." each and every name was spit out from Mo Wen's mouth.

Horace’s face was uncertain. He naturally understood the weight of every name in Mo Wen’s mouth. He had been teaching at Hogwarts for decades and had been wooing all kinds of talents, so he naturally noticed this. The lurking forces.

　　 "Are you one of them?"

　　 Do not smile, "To be precise-the nominal leader."

Horace only felt his breathing stagnated. Although the young man in front of him was smiling, it made him feel frightened. He could secretly dominate a power that has swept many families. In some ways, this young man is even better than Dumbledore. Lido and Voldemort were even more terrible, at least the two of them could never do this when they were young.

　　 "What do you want?" Horace was obviously not naive enough to think that Mo Wen's identity was just to chat with himself. If one is not good, the person in front of him might kill him directly.

　　 "One is to invite you to join us, and the other is to surrender that memory about Voldemort's Horcrux." Mo Wen leaned forward slightly, looking at Horace.

　　 Horace's eyes widened, the former was expected, but the latter—

　　 "What do you want that thing to do?" Horace was a little reluctant. He knew that Voldemort would never spare him if this matter leaked out, which was why he rejected Dumbledore.

　　 "Because we want to solve Dumbledore and Voldemort, UU Reading www.uukanshu.com" The tone of the unspeakable is very calm, as if killing the two strongest wizards of the contemporary era is as easy as killing a chicken.

　　 "You are crazy!" Horace jumped up suddenly, "It's impossible!"

Mo Wen ignored him. Instead, he said to himself, "We hope that the two of them can fight and lose both, but it is a pity that Voldemort has always been afraid of Dumbledore because of some childhood shadows. He would not take the initiative, and Dumbledore also cared about Voldemort’s Horcrux. He would not use his full strength until the Horcrux problem was solved. If only tentatively fighting against each other, it would have no effect on the two men. So we must help Dumbledore solve the Horcrux problem before he can fight Voldemort to the end."

　　Horace opened his eyes wide, but he couldn't speak. He had never seen such a crazy plan, but he had to admit that there was still a lot of feasibility in this plan.

　　 "What about your choice?" Mo Wen looked at him with a grin, but there was no smile in his eyes.

Seeing the magic wand that Mo Wen was holding quietly in his hand, Horace sighed softly, as if he was ten years old all of a sudden. He had retrieved the magic wand from Mo Wen, and he took out a small piece from the cloak with his other hand. Put the tip of the wand against the temple of the empty bottle, and then took it away. The tip of the stick brought out a long silver thread-like memory. It stretched longer and longer, and finally broke, gleaming silver on the tip of the stick. Slughorn put it in the bottle, and the silver wire rolled up, then unfolded, hovering like gas. He tightened the cap of the bottle with a trembling hand and handed it to Mo Wen.

　　 Looking at the memory in his hand, Mo Wen just smiled, "You are welcome to join, Mr. Slughorn!"