The Periodic Table of Words at Hogwarts

"You're going to kill him, and then what"?

Mr. Lin once again had a smile on his face, but this time it was not a friendly mockery between old friends, but a real mockery.

"What then"?

Dumbledore was obviously confused by Mr. Lin's words.

"I mean you killed him and completely destroyed his power. The wizards in England sang and danced after his death, and the bar in Moghold Village even fell into a carnival."

"What happens after that? What happens after that"?

The old man tilted his head and looked at Dumbledore with a look that could almost be called pity.

"Everything returns to normal, and order is restored in the magical world of England."

Dumbledore frowned and answered firmly.

"wrong".

Mr. Lin shook his head gently.

"What's wrong"?

Dumbledore was completely confused this time.

"After you kill him, the magical world of England will fall into a carnival, and then you will usher in the long-lost order. Wizards can finally walk on the streets openly."

"But is it really all over?"

Mr. Lin smiled slightly and asked Dumbledore.

"Voldemort really started all this"?

"Isn't it"?

Dumbledore's brows were already furrowed.

"Without the support of those pure-blood families, how could this stupid lunatic get to where he is now?"

"Don't you really think that this lunatic has won over so many people just because of his talent?"

Mr. Lin sighed, and then continued:

"In the beginning, the pure-blood families and he were supposed to be using each other. He had strength and talent, as well as ideas that pure-blood families dreamed of, so he naturally got their support."

"Those mixed-blood families must have thought that Voldemort would be the sharpest dagger in their hands, so they provided him with a lot of resources and even called him master against his will. In fact, they were just laughing at his stupidity in their hearts."

"What you said makes some sense, but I have a question - then why are all the pure-blood families now willing to accept him?"

Dumbledore nodded thoughtfully and then asked.

"Because they took off."

Mr. Lin replied calmly:

"They gave him the best resources, the best potions, the vast ancient black magic books in the family treasure house for him to query at will, and a large number of rare materials were directly provided to him for experiments."

"His strength is the guarantee of these families. After all, who would dislike the knife in his hand being too sharp?"

"But it's a pity that they really got away with it."

A trace of schadenfreude suddenly flashed across the old man's face.

"They kept a dog at home and fed it countless meat bones, hoping that the dog would grow brave and kill their enemies for them."

"However, no one noticed that this mighty wolf dog was actually a real wild wolf! Feed the unfamiliar wild wolf!"

"Now it seems that the wild wolf has killed a few fools, and forced other people to feed him more meat, and named those fools after their servants."

"It can only be said to be retribution."

After the old man finished all this, Dumbledore fell into deep thought.

"How do I change this?"

Dumbledore seemed to have aged dozens of years when he asked this question.

"I don't know. You have to try to figure out the specific path. This is none of our business."

Mr. Lin looked out the window gently. The sky was darkening and the rain was getting heavier.

The freshly bloomed winter jasmine swayed under the wind and rain, and its bright yellow vibrant petals were picked up by the strong wind and then fell to the ground, stained with dirty muddy water.

"It rains heavily, and no one can avoid the fate of wet shoes."

The old man leaning on the bedside murmured to himself.

........................

"Mr. Dumbledore, are you done talking now?"

After a while, everyone who was talking in low voices finally saw Dumbledore walking out of the room.

"Yes, Mr. Lin has his own philosophical concepts. He believes that death is just the beginning of a greater adventure. I can't persuade him. From this point of view, he is indeed much better than me."

Dumbledore closed the door and sighed softly.

"Mr. Hilbert, do you still plan to go back?"

Dumbledore asked softly.

"I will live here for a while and don't have to worry about my studies, Mr. Principal, I never cared about that."

Zhang Qi shook his head.

"Okay, then I look forward to seeing you again next semester. I have some urgent matters and I have to go back first."

Dumbledore waved his hand, then strode out the door.

The heavy rain outside poured directly on the old man's body, instantly soaking through the robe outside and making his beard wet.

The old man just walked forward step by step in the violent storm. Zhang Qi wanted to step forward to stop him, but was held back by Shen Jian.

"Let the old man be alone."

Under the dim light of the street lamp, Dumbledore's figure looked a little hunched over, looking a little bleak.

"Fox".

The old man pursed his lips gently, and a small ball of golden flame exploded in front of his eyes.

The big golden-red bird squeezed out of the flames with some effort, and then let out a burst of chirping.

It's just that no matter which direction you listen to it, there seems to be a hint of complaint.

"What? You almost didn't come here just now"?

Dumbledore touched his phoenix in surprise. The water droplets on his body evaporated the moment it came into contact with the golden-red flame.

"Ah, don't worry about it. China's magic environment is special compared to Europe. It's normal for you to feel like you can't squeeze in."

The old man comforted his phoenix, and then continued:

"Please take me to Nurmengard. I have something urgent and I need to meet that old friend."

Phoenix blinked his eyes gently, and then let out a loud cry.

Large balls of golden red flames exploded from it, and then the flames began to slowly condense into the air like squeezing toothpaste, and finally condensed into a huge fireball.

"Tsk, has China's magic flow reached such an extent? This is too inconvenient for the Floo Network."

Dumbledore complained softly, and then grabbed his phoenix.

The fireball enveloped one person and one bird, and with a slight pop, the two disappeared.

………………

"Damn, this value is wrong"!

At the same time, in a white building far away in the suburbs, a young Chinese doctor of mysticism was looking at the screen in a daze.

Then he finally reacted and immediately slapped the button. With the blue flash of the hidden antenna, the recording tape slowly spit out, leaving a long trace.

The doctor grabbed the paper tape, and while copying the data, he cursed something softly.