Professor, please pay the debt

In the past days, whenever Harry was awake, he would eagerly hope that Dumbledore would actually come to fetch him.

However, when the two set off together and walked on Privet Drive, he felt very awkward.

He had never had a serious conversation with the Headmaster outside of Hogwarts before, usually across a table.

He couldn't help thinking about the last time they met, which added to his embarrassment.

During that meeting, he not only yelled, but also broke several of Dumbledore's most precious things recklessly.Dumbledore seemed very accommodating.

"Get your wand ready, Harry," he said briskly.

"But, I don't seem to be able to use magic outside of school, sir?"

"If attacked..." said Dumbledore, "I allow you to use any magic and spell you can think of to fight back. However, I don't think you have to worry about being attacked tonight."

"Why, sir?"

"Because you're with me..." said Dumbledore simply, "it's all right, Harry."

He stopped suddenly at the intersection of Privet Drive.

"Surely you haven't passed your Apparition exam yet?" he asked.

"No..." Harry replied, "I think you have to be 17 or older."

"Yeah..." said Dumbledore, "then you'll need to hold on to my arm. It's my left arm, if you don't mind—you must have noticed that my wand arm is a bit No energy."

Harry grabbed Dumbledore's outstretched forearm.

"Very well," said Dumbledore, "Okay, here we go."

Harry felt that Dumbledore's arm was about to break free from his grasp, and he grabbed it even tighter, and then he saw that it was dark around him.

He was strongly squeezed from all directions, and he couldn't breathe at all, his chest seemed to be tightly strangled by several iron hoops.His eyeballs were pushed back into his head, his eardrums were pushed deep into his skull, and—

He sucked in the cold night air and opened his tearful eyes.He felt as if he had been squeezed out of a very narrow rubber tube just now.

It took him a few seconds to recover, and he realized that Privet Drive had disappeared.The place where he and Dumbledore were standing now looked like the yard of some abandoned village, with an old war memorial in the center and some benches.Harry's understanding caught up with his senses, realizing that he had just Apparated for the first time in his life.

"Are you all right?" Dumbledore asked, looking down at him with concern. "It's a feeling that takes getting used to."

"I'm fine..." said Harry, rubbing his ears, which seemed to him to leave Privet Drive reluctantly, "but I seem to prefer flying on a broomstick."

Dumbledore smiled, wrapped his traveling cloak around his neck tightly, and said, "This way."

Walking briskly, he passed an empty tavern and a few houses.

It was almost midnight by the clock of a nearby church.

"Then tell me, Harry..." said Dumbledore, "does your scar...do it hurt?"

Harry subconsciously reached his forehead and touched the lightning-shaped scar.

"No..." he said, "I've been wondering that too. Now that Voldemort is back, I thought the scar would be burning forever." He looked up at Dumbledore and saw a satisfied expression on his face. look.

"I don't think as you do," said Dumbledore. "Voldemort has finally realized that you have been able to access his thoughts and emotions, which he finds dangerous. It appears that he has now used Occlumency on you. "

"Well, I'd love to," said Harry, who didn't miss the tormenting nightmares or the horrific experiences of suddenly gaining insight into Voldemort's mind.

They turned a corner and passed a telephone box and a bus shelter.Harry turned his head to look at Dumbledore again.

"professor?"

"Harry?"

"Well—where the hell are we?"

"This is the charming village of Budley Barberton, Harry."

"What are we doing here?"

"Oh, by the way, I haven't told you," said Dumbledore. "Well, I can't remember how many times I've said this in the last few years, but there's nothing we can do, and now we're short of another teacher. ...we're here to persuade a retired colleague of mine to come back to work and return to Hogwarts."

"How can I help you, sir?"

"Oh, I think we'll put you to use," said Dumbledore vaguely. "Turn left, Harry."

They walked up a steep, narrow street lined with rows of houses.

The cold that had enveloped Privet Drive for two weeks did not linger here.Harry thought of the Dementors, and looked back over his shoulder, grabbing the wand in his pocket to embolden himself.

"Professor, why can't we just Apparate to your old colleague's house?"

"Because that would be as rude as kicking open the door of someone's house," said Dumbledore. "Politeness requires us to offer other wizards the chance to refuse us. However, most wizarding houses have magic to ward off unwelcome apparitions." Manifesters. Like, at Hogwarts—”

"Apparition is not allowed in the castle or in the hunting grounds..." Harry snapped, "Hermione Granger told me."

"She's right. Let's turn left again."

Behind them, church bells struck midnight.

Harry wondered: why didn't Dumbledore think it was rude to visit an old colleague so late?But now that the conversation is under way, he has more pressing questions to ask.

"Sir, I read in the Daily Prophet that Fudge has stepped down..."

"That's right..." said Dumbledore, turning into another straight side street, "I'm sure you've seen that he's replaced by Rufus Scrimgeour, who used to be the head of the Auror's office."

"He... what do you think of him as a person?" Harry asked.

"That's an interesting question," said Dumbledore. "He is capable, it goes without saying. More decisive and bolder than Connelly."

"Yes, but I mean—"

"I know what you're referring to. Rufus is a swift and decisive person. He has devoted most of his energy to dealing with dark wizards after he joined the work, so he will not underestimate Voldemort's power."

Harry waited, but Dumbledore didn't say a word about his argument with Scrimgeour, which was reported in the Daily Prophet, and Harry didn't dare to press, so he changed the subject.

"And... sir... I saw about Mrs. Burns."

"Yeah..." said Dumbledore softly, "a terrible loss. She's a wonderful wizard. I think it's up there - ouch!"

It was the injured hand that he used to show the way.

"Professor, how did you—"

"There is no time to explain now," said Dumbledore. "This is a thrilling story, and I hope it can be unfolded and described."

He smiled at Harry, who knew he hadn't been reprimanded and could continue asking questions.

"Sir - I've had an owl from the Ministry of Magic pamphlets about safety measures against Death Eaters..."

"Yes, I also received one." Dumbledore still said with a smile, "Do you find it useful?"

"Not very useful."

"Yeah, I don't think it's useful either. For example, you didn't ask me which kind of jam I like best, just to test whether I'm really Professor Dumbledore and not an impostor."

"I didn't…" Harry didn't finish, not sure if he was being criticized.

"For future use, I might as well tell you, Harry, that my favorite is raspberry jam . . . but of course, if I were a Death Eater, I'd be sure to find out what jam I like before I go. Passing off as my own."

"Well... that's right," said Harry. "By the way, Inferi are also mentioned in the pamphlet. What are they anyway? The pamphlet doesn't quite make it clear."

"They are corpses..." said Dumbledore calmly, "dead corpses enchanted and in the service of Dark wizards. However, the Inferi have not been seen for a long time, since Voldemort's last fall from power. Extinct... Needless to say, he killed a lot of people and created a lot of Inferi. Here we are, Harry, here it is..."

They approached a neat little stone house set in a garden.Harry was too preoccupied with the ghastly claims about Inferi to pay attention to his surroundings.

When they got to the gate, Dumbledore stopped suddenly, and Harry was caught off guard and bumped into him.

"Oh, my. Oh, my, my."

Harry followed Dumbledore's gaze towards the well-kept path, and his heart sank.The hinges of the front door were open and the door hung askew.

Dumbledore looked around the street, but there seemed to be no one there.

"Harry, draw your wand and come with me," he whispered.

He opened the front door and walked quickly and quietly up the garden path, Harry following behind.Then Dumbledore slowly pushed open the front door, wand in hand, ready to strike.

"Fluorescent flashes!"

The tip of Dumbledore's wand lit up, revealing a narrow hallway.There is also an open door on the left.Dumbledore walked into the drawing room, holding his shiny wand aloft, Harry following closely behind.

In front of them was a mess, a grandfather clock was smashed at their feet, the clock face was cracked, and the pendulum lay a little farther away, like an abandoned sword.

A piano was overturned on the ground, its keys scattered around.Nearby, fragments of a broken chandelier gleamed.

The cushions were strewn about in a mess, deflated, with feathers poking out of the rips.

Broken glass and shards of china were scattered like powder.Dumbledore raised his wand a little higher, illuminating the walls, and the wallpaper was splashed with dark red goo.Harry took a small breath, Dumbledore heard it, and looked around.

"It's not pretty, is it?" he said gravely. "Yeah, there's been a horrible thing going on here."

Dumbledore walked cautiously into the middle of the room, examining the shattered fragments at his feet.

Harry followed, looking around, vaguely apprehensive about seeing something horrible hiding behind a broken piano or an overturned sofa, but he saw no sign of a corpse.