The days of hanging out at Hogwarts

Chapter 199 Dumbledore: Headache, really headache

Loren followed Dumbledore into the principal's office. Both of them were silent, and anyone could see that they were upset.

The table with slender legs, still covered with exquisite silverware, remained motionless. If it's daytime, they spin and spit out steam.

Fox was resting his legs on a perch decorated with gold wire, his hair all over his body was withered, and he was dozing off with his head pecked, like an old hen laying eggs. Seeing Dumbledore enter, it dragged its sleepy body back, trying to protect the few remaining feathers on its buttocks.

The portraits of the old principals, male and female, watched the two men walk into the principal's office with a sullen face, whispering on the wall, guessing what school rules the little wizard had broken to make the usually gentle Dumbledore into this state.

Lighting a few lights in the office with a wave of his wand, Dumbledore sank into the armchair behind the desk and began pouring Lauren tea and rummaging through the drawers for his stash of snacks.

"Principal Dumbledore," Loren hesitated before speaking out, "I don't think Harry will like this way of growing up."

"Loren, please believe me. If possible, I hope that every student at Hogwarts can grow up happily and graduate smoothly. Then get a stable job, form a family with the person you love, and have several children. Naughty kids, like the Weasleys."

Dumbledore looked tired, and he felt equally uncomfortable, "However, there is not much time left for Harry to grow up. I think you also discovered the weirdness on Crabbe's chest."

Having said this, Dumbledore remembered seeing Loren sending the Crushing Curse into Crabbe's chest without hesitation. He paused and frowned slightly, "Voldemort is training new Death Eaters. He and his minions It will cause unrest again."

Loren thought back to the battle with Crabbe. Last year Crabbe was scolded as an ignorant troll. Slytherin's bottom line, now his dueling level has surpassed that of most young wizards at the same level. The weird black light...

After opening a box of cockroaches, Dumbledore first took one and put it into his mouth. The sound of the cockroaches popping and the sweet taste soothed him a little: "Harry is a special one. He will gain supreme fame and honor." , will also face the deepest fear and the most evil demon king. He must seize the time to grow, and mental perseverance is more important than the power of magic."

He handed the rest over and placed it between the two of them, "Help him, Loren."

Loren felt a little irritable: "I know, you should be more concerned about the Ministry of Magic's problems now. Last night..."

He told the story of using Legilimency to search the memories of house elves and discovering that they were colluding with werewolves and the Ministry of Magic.

"In fact, I also have a werewolf friend who has already learned the news." Dumbledore looked serious, but was more concerned about Loren's browsing of memories. He solemnly warned, "Loren, don't use Legilimency. Read it!"

Loren was confused for a moment: "Why?"

"Even if many scholars and spell experts speak out for the rationality and legitimacy of Legilimency, the Wizengamot will discuss relevant issues every year. But what is unquestionable is that this is a dark magic that peeps into people's hearts."

"Can--"

Dumbledore stretched out his hand to signal him not to rush to refute: "I know what you young people think. You think magic is just a tool, and there is no distinction between good and bad... You think there is no black and white in magic, only wizards have black and white."

What kind of enthusiastic little wizard doesn't have this idea? He sighed faintly, "A long time ago, when I was young, I had the same idea. I thought I was gifted, and I should lead the magic, rather than the magic affecting me. As I get closer to the essence of magic, I feel the magic. The more you realize your ignorance and arrogance.”

"Loren, the soul is the most mysterious realm of magic. No one has ever understood its true meaning, but every part of magic embodies its power. In contrast, magic can also affect the soul. I think you have heard of it, A dark wizard who is completely addicted to black magic cannot use the Patronus Charm, which is a manifestation of the influence of black magic on the soul."

Loren remembered that Flamel had said something similar when he was practicing the Divine Edge Shadowless Curse. The reminders from the two old wizards made him pay attention, and he began to reflect on his actions to determine whether he was really affected by black magic.

Searching the house elf's memory, the Oblivion Curse covers his whereabouts.

The rebound crushing spell explores Crabbe's weirdness...

Dumbledore looked at Loren, who was deep in thought, waiting patiently, with deep expectations in his eyes.

The portraits on the wall had long noticed the two people below and heard their conversation completely. Even some old principals who were dozing in the picture frames woke up.

The 18th-century headmistress Delis de Vant, an outstanding healer whose portraits hang in Hogwarts and St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Maladies, strongly agreed with Dumbledore: "Dark magic is like Like sewage, it will dye the white soul black."

Principal Black, who was born in Slytherin, was unconvinced and blew his goatee and retorted: "This shows that black magic is closer to the essence of the soul. As long as you stick to yourself, black magic can become a powerful means."

The more he spoke, the more energetic he became, even becoming filled with righteous indignation: "Durmstrang treats black magic as a normal course, and the young wizards who come out of their school can do more magic than our school! If you ask me, there should be a course Dark magic class.”

"What nonsense are you talking about!"

The old principal, Dexter Foster, had a bad temper. He couldn't stand listening any more. He pulled off the receiver from his ear, jumped into Blake's photo frame, raised his fist and beat him severely.

Several Hufflepuff headmasters rushed to break up the fight, and they all worked together to hold Black back and prevent him from fighting back, allowing Dexter to punch him a few more times.

Loren was awakened by the lively sound of fighting above and looked at Dumbledore with a strange expression. Secretly guessing whether Dumbledore's portrait was hung to hit people or to make excuses.

There was no emotion on Dumbledore's face at all, as if he was used to it. He looked at Loren expectantly, waiting for his answer.

Loren still shook his head: "Headmaster, the house elf Bigger monitored my whereabouts and set fire to Windsor Castle. Crabbe turned to Voldemort and dealt with me harshly. I think there is nothing wrong with using black magic to deal with them, be gentle and kind. It’s reserved for family and friends, and you should be merciless when dealing with them.”

"Well said, boy! You should come to our Slytherin house!" Old Principal Black was uneasy even after being beaten.

Dumbledore waved his wand, and the portraits of the headmasters flipped over to the way they looked when they were sleeping.

He looked at Loren with a headache. Talent and intelligence sometimes become obstacles to education.

If it were any other little wizard, it would be impossible for him to learn these black magic in the second grade. Even if there are those who have learned it, they will wake up in time after being advised by him. Loren's wisdom and opinions only make him more stubborn.

"You are right, you should be merciless when dealing with enemies. I am also good at Legilimency, and I am not afraid to use it on enemies. I am not opposed to you studying black magic. Only by mastering black magic can you resist black magic. "

"But it shouldn't be now. You are still too young and don't know what a dark abyss the human heart is. While you are watching the darkness, the darkness is also watching you." Dumbledore's voice was gentle but firm.

Black magic is like invisible water, invisible and slow. The more unscrupulously it is used, the more unscrupulously it flows in the user's heart and soul. Leaving traces unconsciously.

Dumbledore had gazed into the hearts of others countless times, and he had also gazed into his own heart countless times. He deeply felt the traces left by black magic on his soul, so he feared power and life, and used shackles to trap himself in a tall building far away from the world.

But Loren didn't want to hear it. He believed that Dumbledore was doing it for his own good and for his sake. Just like every parent who cares about their children, they want their children to have an infinitely bright future and do not want their children to have any flaws.

He felt that Dumbledore took the problem too seriously, just like some parents who regard electronic products and games as scourges, and it was a bit too much.

Loren believed that he had the soul of an adult and that his personality would not be completely changed by black magic. As for being harsh to his enemies, this was not really a shortcoming in his opinion.

Dumbledore tried to hold him to a saintly standard, which was impossible in the real world.

Eating the pile of cockroaches without saying a word, Loren pretended not to hear what Dumbledore had just said, and the sound of the popping candy brought a sweet taste.

This kid really doesn't listen to advice.

Dumbledore had an even greater headache. He didn't want to see Loren change.

That Loren was able to resolve Malfoy's evil thoughts with a kind frozen pear, and was able to treat the weak with an equal attitude and inspire the loyalty of Mai... He had the most powerful magical power and deep love in his heart.

Dumbledore kept tapping his fingers on the armrest as he watched Loren stuff a box of cockroaches into his stomach. She was obviously competing with him, but she still ate his snacks with peace of mind.

Principal Whitebeard smiled silently. Since he couldn't change his views, let's guide his behavior.

He opened another box of Bibi's multi-flavor beans and handed it to him, and said gently: "You only arrived at the auditorium after the duel event started. You probably haven't had dinner yet, right?"

Loren nodded. The mirror surface that had been added to the Soul-Capturing Stone had undergone some changes. Flamel led him to add some magic circles on the mirror surface to control the influence of the Soul-Capturing Stone. It took a long time and made him miss it. dinner.

"Although I accepted your snack, it does not mean that I accept your point of view." Loren shook his head and warned, but the gesture of chewing the candy showed that his position was not firm.

"Of course," Dumbledore said with a smile in his tone, "You can eat slowly, I just want to tell you a story."

Educate him with fables and stories, do you think he is a primary school student? Loren glanced at the white-bearded old principal: "For the sake of the cockroaches, you can just say it."

Dumbledore was not annoyed and refilled the tea for him so that he would not choke: "This is the second story in "The Tales of Beedle the Bard", The Fountain of Good Luck. The Fountain of Good Luck is in one place In the mysterious magic garden, dense exotic flowers and rare fruit trees grow in the magic garden. On a high mountain..."

The poet Beedle invented a fountain of good luck that could make people's wishes come true. Three witches and a knight teamed up to find the fountain of good luck. At the end of the story, they achieved their wishes through their own efforts.

The implication is probably that you can have enough food and clothing by doing it yourself. Loren guessed.

After telling the story, Loren also had enough to eat and drink. He patted his belly and sighed with satisfaction: "It's a great fable, but I didn't hear it have anything to do with black magic."

"Well - it doesn't matter." Dumbledore smiled like a fox, "It's just that I want to make an exchange with you. As long as you promise not to use Legilimency anymore, I will tell you the location of the Fountain of Good Luck. "

Loren was suddenly startled: "Isn't the original intention of the story of the Fountain of Good Luck telling us to use our own hands to obtain happiness? And doesn't the end of the story imply that the Fountain of Good Luck is fictional?"

"That's true, but if it were you Loren, you probably wouldn't care about the original intention of the story. Besides, this is not fiction."

Dumbledore took a deep look at him and said with emotion: "I was very unlucky in the first half of my life. I was displaced, and my relatives and friends were separated. Despair and trouble filled my life. Just when it was about to be broken, I found The fountain of good luck slowly tidies up the shattered life."

"Whether you are exploring the mysteries of magic or refining magic stones, the Fountain of Good Luck can give you effective assistance."

Loren looked at the principal suspiciously. He didn't quite believe that Dumbledore turned his life around because of the Fountain of Good Luck, and Dumbledore's current life was not a good one.

But his heart was moved, indeed he was moved: "Do we need to make an unbreakable vow?"

Dumbledore shook his head: "This does not require an unbreakable oath, a simple magical contract will do. I will not set any punishment for you, but the magic will remind me when you violate the contract."

He stretched out his right index finger and guided the magic power to establish a contract. Flame-like lines bloomed on the first knuckle: "Press your index finger on it and tell your promise."

Looking at this magical scene, Loren opened his eyes wide: "Contract? Just wait a moment."

Fifteen minutes later, Dumbledore looked at the scene in front of him with twitching eyes.

Loren held a piece of parchment filled with densely written articles in one hand, and carelessly pressed it on the flame contract pattern with the other hand. He read the agreement he had just written out emotionlessly:

"Party A: Albus Dumbledore, Party B: Loren Morgan. Party A and Party B reached an agreement after consultation in accordance with relevant legal provisions and the principles of equality, mutual benefit, and common development..."

The flame pattern on Dumbledore's index finger danced very erratically, reflecting the old wizard's inner rage.

Loren was immersed in his contract and did not feel the bursting flames at all: "Article 7, liability for breach of contract... If the life and property safety of Party B and his relatives and friends are threatened, Party B is forced to fail to perform the contract normally, or violates the contract , it will not be regarded as a breach of contract by Party B, and Party A shall continue to perform its responsibilities."

"Such as force majeure, earthquakes, volcanic eruptions..."

The veins in Dumbledore's temples were beating violently, and he couldn't bear it anymore.

Bah!

The flame pattern on the index finger turned from red to gold, and quickly ran up Loren's index finger, dyeing some fingerprint lines with a faint gold color, and then disappeared under the skin.

Dumbledore didn't give Loren a chance to speak, and waved his wand with his big hand. Loren's eyes only felt blurred, and when he regained consciousness, he was already locked outside the principal's office.

Loren, who was driven out of the door, was not convinced no matter what he thought. Angry and denounced words kept ringing in the corridors of the castle:

“What’s wrong with having too many clauses!”

"This shows that I have the spirit of contract!"

——

The following content is free -

Fountain of Good Luck

The Fountain of Good Luck is located on a high hill in a magical garden, surrounded by high walls and protected by powerful magic.

Once a year, between sunrise and sunset on the longest day, only one unfortunate person has the opportunity to come to the Fountain of Good Luck, bathe in the water, and gain eternal good luck.

It is said that that day, before dawn, hundreds of people from all over the kingdom came to the outside of the garden wall. These people are men and women, rich and poor, old and young, magicians and magicians. They gather in the dark, and everyone hopes to be the lucky one to enter the garden.

Three witches, each with their own heavy sorrows, gathered together outside the crowd. They told each other their pain while waiting for the sunrise.

The first witch is called Asha. She is terminally ill and no doctor can cure her. She hoped that the Fountain of Good Luck would eliminate her symptoms and grant her a long and happy life.

The second witch, Altida, had her home, her gold, and her wand taken away by an evil magician. She hoped that the Fountain of Good Luck would rescue her from poverty and weakness.

The third witch is called Amata. She was abandoned by the man she loved deeply, and she felt that the pain in her heart would never heal. She hopes the Fountain of Good Luck will ease her pain and longing.

The three women sympathized with each other and agreed that if good luck happened to them, they would unite and strive to go to the Fountain of Good Luck together.

The first rays of sunlight lit up the sky. There was a crack in the wall. The crowd pushed forward desperately, everyone screaming and begging to be blessed by the fountain of good luck. The vines in the garden stretched out and twisted among the crowd, entangled the first witch Asha. Asha grabbed the second witch Altida's wrist, and Altida tightly grabbed the third witch Amata's robe.

However, Amata was caught by the armor of a frowning knight, who was riding a skinny horse.

The vines pulled the three witches through the cracks in the wall. The knight was also pulled off his horse and entered the garden with them.

Angry shouts from the disappointed crowd echoed in the morning air. Then, as the garden walls closed again, the crowd fell silent.

Asha and Altida were very angry with Amata because she accidentally brought the knight in.

"Only one can bathe in the Fountain of Good Luck! It's hard enough to choose just one among us, but now there's another one!"

At this time, Sir Unlucky - who was actually called this in the world outside the wall - discovered that the three women were witches, and he did not know magic, had no superb skills in fighting or sword dancing, and did not have any ability to use non-magic. Because of his outstanding talents, he thought that he would definitely not be able to compare with three women and would not be able to reach the fountain of good luck. So he announced his intention to quit and go back outside the walls.

Amata was very angry after hearing this.

"Cowardice!" she scolded him. "Draw your sword, knight, and help us reach our destination!"

So the three witches and the poor knight boldly walked into the magic garden. On both sides of the sunlit path, dense exotic flowers and rare fruit trees grow. They had an unobstructed journey and arrived at the foot of the hill where the Good Luck Fountain was located.

However, a huge white earthworm coiled under the hill. It was blind and had a bloated body. As they approached, it turned a dirty face toward them and uttered the following words: Show me your suffering.

The unlucky Sir pulled out his sword and wanted to kill the monster, but the blade broke. Then Altida threw stones at the earthworm. Asha and Amata chanted various spells to subdue it or confuse it, but their The power of the wand was as useless as the stone of Altida and the sword of the knight: the earthworms would not let them pass.

As the sun rose higher and higher in the sky, Asha began to cry in despair.

This time, the big earthworm put its face against Asha's face, sipping the tears on her cheeks. The earthworm's thirst was relieved, and it slowly moved aside, disappeared into a hole in the ground.

When the three witches and knights saw the earthworms disappear, they were very happy and began to climb up the hill. They thought they would be able to reach the Fountain of Good Luck before noon.

However, when they climbed halfway up the cliff, they saw a line of words carved on the ground in front of them: Give me the fruits of your labor.

The unfortunate Sir took out his only coin and placed it on the grass on the hillside, but the coin rolled away and disappeared. The three witches and the knight continued to climb, but although they walked for several more hours, they made no progress. The top of the mountain was still so far away, and the line of words was still carved on the ground in front of them.

As the sun passed over their heads and began to slide toward the distant horizon, they all felt discouraged, but Altida walked faster and harder than the others, urging others to do the same as she did, even though she was in magic. Not a step forward on the mountain.

"Courage, friends, don't give up!" she shouted, wiping sweat from her brow.

Glittery beads of sweat fell to the ground, the line of words blocking their path disappeared, and they found that they could continue going up the mountain again.

After clearing the second obstacle, they were so happy that they rushed to the top of the mountain as fast as possible, and finally saw the Fountain of Good Luck, which shimmered like crystal among the trees, flowers and grass.

However, before they reached the spring, they encountered a river. The river looped around the top of the mountain, blocking their way. In the depths of the clear river water, there is a smooth stone with the following words on it: Give me your past wealth.

Sir Unlucky wanted to float across the river on his shield, but the shield sank into the water. The three witches pulled Sir up from the river, and then they themselves wanted to jump across the river, but the river refused to let them pass. At this time, the sun was setting lower and lower in the sky.

So they began to think about the meaning of the words on the stone, and Amata was the first to understand.

She drew her wand, plucked from her mind all the happy times she had spent with her lost lover, and threw them into the flowing river. The rapids took these memories away, and several stepping stones appeared in the river. The three witches and the knight were finally able to cross the river to the top of the mountain.

The Fountain of Good Luck shone in front of them, surrounded by exotic flowers and plants they had never seen before, and they were astonishingly beautiful. The sky turned into a ruby-like light, and now it was time to decide who should be bathed. Before they could make a decision, a weak Asha passed out and fell to the ground. The journey to the top of the mountain was too hard and she was already dying.

Her three friends tried to carry her to the Fountain of Good Luck, but Asha was in severe pain and begged them not to touch her.

This was when Altida hurriedly picked all the herbs she thought were effective, mixed them in Sir Luckless Sir's water hyacinth, and fed them into Asha's mouth.

Asha was able to stand immediately. Moreover, all symptoms of her terminal illness disappeared.

"I am cured!" she cried, "I have no need of the fountain of good fortune—let Altida bathe!"

But Altida was busy picking more herbs to put in her apron.

"Since I can cure this disease, I can earn a lot of gold! Let Amata take a bath!"

Sir Unlucky bowed and motioned Amata to walk toward the spring, but Amata shook her head. The river washed away all her thoughts about her lover, and she realized how cold, ruthless and unjust he was, and it was a blessing to be able to get rid of him.

"Good sir, you go and take a bath as a reward for your chivalrous behavior!" she said to the unfortunate Sir.

So, in the last few rays of sunset, the knight stepped forward with clanging clanging and took a bath in the Fountain of Good Luck. He was surprised to find that he was one of the lucky ones, and felt elated by this incredible good luck.

As the sun sank below the horizon, Sir Unlucky stepped out of the spring, his whole body shining with joy. Wearing his rusty armor, he threw himself at Amata's feet, feeling that Amata was the kindest and most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Flushing with excitement, he proposed to her and asked for her heart.

Amata was also very happy, realizing that she had found a man worthy of her heart.

The three witches and the knight held hands and walked down the mountain together.

The four people lived very happily for a long time, but none of them knew and never doubted that the water of the Lucky Fountain had no magic at all.

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