94 hp Diagon Alley

I don't know - but if Grigovich is so stupid as to boast, it shouldn't be hard for others to know. "

Voldemort was at the gates of Hogwarts, and Harry could see him standing there, and he could see the lights, floating in the predawn air, getting closer.

"Grindelwald made himself powerful with the Elder Wand. In his prime, Dumbledore, knowing he was the only one who could stop him, went to duel Grindelwald, defeated him, and took the old wand."

"Dumbledore ever had the Elder Wand?" asked Ron. "So—what about it now?"

"At Hogwarts," said Harry, trying to keep his mind from leaving the garden at the top of the cliff, from them both.

"Let's go then!" said Ron eagerly. "Harry, go get it, before he does."

"It's too late," said Harry, who couldn't help but clench his head, trying to help it resist. "He knows where the Elder Wand is, he's already there."

"Harry!" said Ron angrily, "how long have you known this - why have we been wasting time? Why did you talk to Griphook first? Otherwise we'd have gone - we could have gone -"

"No," said Harry, kneeling in the grass, "Hermione was right. Dumbledore didn't want me to have it. He didn't want me to take it. He wanted me to go find a Horcrux."

"The never-losing wand, Harry!" grumbled Ron.

"I shouldn't... I should have gone looking for a Horcrux..." Harry said intermittently, with Voldemort's gaze constantly appearing in his mind, "Didn't you hear what Ollivander said? Dumbledore wanted him to find that wand, That's why Ollivander told him that -- and he's going to get it soon."

"I don't understand why," Hermione asked, first puzzled, then firmly to Harry and Ron, "but I believe the Ollivanders - only bad wizards blame weapons for their failures. Hah Leigh, if You-Know-Who wants to defeat you, it will be impossible with just an Elder Wand."

It was cold and dark all around at the moment, and Voldemort floated beside Snape, across the playground toward the lake.

"I'll meet you at the castle later," he said in that high, grim voice, "and now you go."

Snape bowed and returned down the path, his black cloak flapping behind him.Harry walked slowly, waiting for Snape's figure to disappear.Snape couldn't see where he was going, couldn't let anyone see.But there was no light in the windows of the castle, and he could hide himself... He immediately cast a disillusionment spell, and even he couldn't see himself.

He walked on, around the lake, looking at the silhouette of his beloved castle, his first kingdom, his birthright...

There, right by the lake, reflected in the black water, the white marble tomb, a superfluous blot on a familiar landscape.He felt again that measured rush of joy, that exhilarating feeling of wreaking havoc.He raised the old yew wand: how fitting that this would be its last feat.

The grave was split from head to toe, and the shroud-shrouded body was as elongated as it had been in life, and he raised his wand again.

The wrappings were unraveled, and the face was translucent, pale and sunken, yet nearly perfectly preserved.The glasses were still on the crooked nose, which made him feel ridiculous, and the old man had now become a cold, disgusting corpse.Dumbledore folded his hands over his chest, and there it was, clutched, buried with him.

Did the old fool think that marble or death would protect the wand?Did he think the Dark Lord dared not invade his tomb?The spidery hand jerked down and drew the wand out of Dumbledore's hand. A stream of sparks shot from the tip, sparkling over the dead body of the previous owner. The Elder Wand was finally at the service of a new master.

Not trying to beat Voldemort to the Elder Wand, a huge decision that still horrified Harry.He couldn't remember a time before when he had chosen not to act.He was full of doubts, and Ron couldn't help expressing those doubts whenever he was with Ron.

"What if Dumbledore wants us to understand that symbol in time to get the Elder Wand?" "What if understanding that symbol means you're 'entitled' to the Hallows?" "Harry, what if That's really the Elder Wand, what else can we do to kill You-Know-Who?"

Harry didn't have an answer: sometimes he wondered if he had been stupid for not trying to stop Voldemort from breaking open the grave.He couldn't even explain satisfactorily why he had decided not to fight: every time he tried to deduce the inner rationales that led to his decision, they felt less and less tenable.

Oddly, he was equally confused by Hermione's support and Ron's skepticism.After being forced to admit that the Elder Wand really existed, Hermione insisted that it was an evil thing, and that the way Voldemort had it was repulsive and should never even be thought of.

"You would never do that, Harry," she said over and over again, "you would never break into Dumbledore's grave."

But Harry felt that facing Dumbledore's body was less scary than the possibility of misunderstanding Dumbledore's intentions in life.He felt he was still groping in the dark, choosing one way and looking back over and over again, wondering if he had misread the sign and should have gone the other way.Resentment for Dumbledore came back to him every now and then, as strong as the sea below the cabin against a cliff, and he resented that Dumbledore hadn't explained it before he died.

"But is he dead?" said Ron, three days after they arrived at the cottage.Harry had just been gazing out of the wall between the garden and the cliff when two companions found him.Harry didn't want to join their argument, and really hoped they hadn't called for it.

"Yes, he's dead. Ron, please stop talking about that!"

"Look at the facts, Hermione," said Ron, across from Harry, who continued to gaze into the sky. "A silver doe. A sword. A chocolate frog card answered our plea for help—"

"Harry admits that it might be his illusion that the picture blinked! Don't you, Harry?"

"Probably," said Harry, without looking at Hermione.

"But you don't think it's an illusion, do you?" Ron asked.

"Yes," said Harry.

"That's right!" said Ron quickly, before Hermione could interrupt. "If that wasn't Dumbledore, please explain how Dobby knew we were in the dungeon, Hermione?"

"I can't - but can you explain how Dumbledore sent Dobby to save us? If he's lying in his grave at Hogwarts?"

"I don't know, it might be his ghost!"

"Dumbledore won't come back as a ghost," said Harry.About Dumbledore, there are very few things he is sure of now, but he knows this: "He may continue." Before the two people asked him what "continue" meant, he hurriedly said, " But we can ask Dobby."

In the smallest of the three bedrooms in Shell Cottage, the elf Dobby was lying quietly on the bed, like a flimsy feather.Luna hummed a weird and nice tune and placed a bouquet of purple limonium on his bedside for decoration.After seeing Harry and the others, he left like stepping on a cloud, leaving them a space to be alone.

"Harry Potter." When they entered the room, Dobby had just drank a large glass of blood tonic and turned his head vigorously to look at the person coming. "You saved Dobby!"

"Actually, I told everyone that you saved us." Harry hurried to his bedside before he twisted his neck. "And I hurt you."

Hermione tilted her head and hid her tears on Ron's shoulder.

"Dobby will be able to get out of bed in a few days." The little elf was so moved that his nose was bubbling, and he wiped his nose with a pillow towel. "Dobby succeeded in helping Harry Potter."

"You need a good rest." Hermione choked up, "Potions don't always work on elves, and Harry has recovered better than you." She turned her head again after she finished speaking, not daring to look at Dobby The wound on the back is still open and fleshy.

"Dobby, I want to ask you a question." Harry said bravely. "Who sent you to save us?"

Dobby covered his mouth and shook his head vigorously.

"Is that Dumbledore?" Harry asked anxiously.

The elf started banging his head against the pillow, screaming, "Dobby can't tell. It's for Harry Potter's sake."

"Is he still alive?" Harry and Ron almost jumped up.

"The old headmaster is dead." The elf buried his head in the pillow and muffled. "He was buried at Hogwarts."

Ron slumped down in his chair in frustration, but Harry persisted.

"But I asked him for help, and then you appeared in the dungeon of Malfoy's house." He said analytically, "If it's not Dumbledore, who else?"

"No—!" Dobby shrieked, slamming against the bed so hard Harry and Ron had to hold it tight.

"Don't do that to it—" Hermione started screaming too.

Fu Rong's brisk footsteps came from the stairs, she pushed open the door a little angrily, and drove away several people in front of the hospital bed.

"It's so sick, do you really want to chat with it at this time?" The beautiful witch said angrily, "Look at its wound, it's bleeding again. No matter how good the blood tonic is, it can't stand such a torment."

"Let's go," Hermione whispered, tugging at Harry and Ron's sleeves.

Harry looked at Dobby apologetically, letting him take care of himself