HP Magic Biography

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So, Tom thinks that the murder key or the dead hand are kept in the Department of Mysteries? Dumbledore said slowly.

Not sure, Mr. Dumbledore. Rutherford shook his head, No one knows his plan, and besides the known soul rings, only blood cups and poison bottles are still being used by blood clans Save, the rest of the sacred artifacts have basically been lost, and the bone harp and the puppet disappeared together. People in the clan suspect that other sacred artifacts, such as the divine staff, were also taken away by the puppet Blood Race...

Dumbledore nodded, However, there is really nothing I can do in the Department of Mysteries. Those rooms have already been completely sealed and connected to the Ministry of Magic. If you want to force them to open, you must cut off the connection...

Space cutting? The entire Ministry of Magic?

Fan Lin looked at Dumbledore in disbelief. The Ministry of Magic is connected to London. It can be said that if the Ministry of Magic is to be cut off from the world, the destruction of London is the inevitable result...

Opening the gates of hell at the cost of a city is indeed something that only Voldemort can do. What's more, regardless of strength, the consequences alone cannot be estimated.

That was to destroy the entire British wizarding community.

Professor, this is really crazy...

Wait a minute, Fan Lin, we can temporarily put aside Tom's matter, but right now, I think we have other things to do.

Issues?

Dumbledore didn't speak, just waved, and the Pensieve appeared on the table very abruptly.

Some memories, I thought, that would be useful, and I wouldn't mind sharing them with you.

Memory? Fan Lin was a little puzzled, he wasn't sure if he had missed something.

Of course, Mr. Rutherford can also come along.

It's an honor! Rutherford bowed slightly, showing his respect for Dumbledore.

Where are we going, Professor?

To trace Bob Ogden's mental journey, Dumbledore took out a crystal bottle from his pocket, which contained a rotating silver-white substance.

Who is Bob Ogden?

He was an employee of the Law Enforcement Department, said Dumbledore. He died not long ago, but I found him before he died and persuaded him to reveal this memory to me. We will accompany him on a business trip. Please stand up, Fan Lin...

Dumbledore poured the silvery substance from the bottle into the Pensieve, and they began to spin and glow faintly, looking neither liquid nor gas.

We're following you, Dumbledore pointed to the basin.

Fan Lin bent forward, took a deep breath, and immersed his face in the silver substance. He felt his feet leave the office floor; falling, falling, through a swirling darkness, and then, blinking in the bright sunlight, adjusting, Dumbledore and Rutherford followed reached his side.

They were standing on a country road bounded by high, shaggy hedgerows. The bright sky is as blue as a forget-me-not.

Ten feet in front of them stood a short, fat man with thick glasses that made his eyes look like moles' spots. He was looking at a wooden signpost sticking out of the thorns on the left side of the road.

Van Lin knew it must be Ogden; he was the only person in sight, and he was wearing the strange clothes that inexperienced wizards often wear when they try to look like Muggles: this time, a man's dress and a pair of Tall boots were worn over a striped one-piece swimsuit.

But what is certain is that Fan Lin has no impression of this person at all.

However, as soon as Fan Lin remembered his strange appearance, Ogden set off along the path with brisk steps.

Three people followed behind him. When they walked past the wooden signpost, Fan Lin looked at the two signs on it. One pointed behind them, the way they had come, and wrote: Great Hangleton,

5 miles. Another pointed to Ogden and read: Little Hangleton, 3 miles.

They walked for a short distance, and saw nothing but the hedgerows on either side and the wide blue sky overhead, and that was the swishing figure in a man's dress before them, and then the path turned to the left and disappeared, and they I found myself standing on a steep hillside, and unexpectedly saw the whole valley in front of me.

Van Lin saw a small village - undoubtedly Little Hangleton - situated between two steep hills, with a clear view of its church and cemetery.

Across the valley there was a handsome manor house on the opposite hillside, surrounded by wide green and velvet lawns. Because the slope was so steep, Ogden had to trot as he went down. Dumbledore also took a big step, and Fan Lin quickly followed.

Ogden didn't stop, however.

The path turned to the right, and they had just turned the corner when they saw Ogden's dress disappear into a gap in the fence.

Dumbledore followed him down a dirty narrow lane with hedgerows that were taller and messier than before. The crooked path was rocky and potholed, as steep as the previous incline, and seemed to lead to a wood below them.

Sure enough, the trail led them to the woods at once. Ogden stopped, drew his wand, and the three stopped right behind him.

Although the sky was cloudless, the old bushes in front cast a dark and cool shadow. After a few seconds, Fan Lin's eyes recognized a house among the messy tree trunks.

It seemed strange that anyone should choose such a dwelling, or let those trees grow around the house, blocking all light and view of the valley. He did not know whether it was inhabited; the walls were covered with moss, many tiles had fallen off the roof, and in a few places the rafters were even clearly visible.

Nettles grew all around the house, and their tops touched the little windows, which were thick with grime. But just when he was sure no one would live there, a window clicked open, and smoke billowed from inside, as if someone was cooking.

Ogden walked forward quietly, looking quite deliberate. He had just stepped into the shadow of the trees when he stopped and stared at the front door where a dead snake had been nailed to it. With a rustle and a pop, a man in rags jumped from the nearest tree and landed right in front of Ogden, who jumped back so quickly that his dress fell to his feet. I fell.

You are not welcome here.

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