Chapter 105 104: Halloween and the Mysteries of Grindelwald
When to return.
Grindelwald fell completely silent, without saying a word, and pressed Ian's shoulder to activate the portkey - he had seen many strange things in his life, but he still seemed to have little experience.
Not much hatred!
How could someone dig up someone else’s ancestral grave directly? With the activation of the portkey, Grindelwald, who was in a complicated mood, and Ian, who was in high spirits, disappeared into the quiet wilderness.
It still felt like riding an invisible train. The two of them seemed to be pulled by an invisible force, and the surrounding scenes flashed by like pictures in a kaleidoscope.
When the strange experience gradually subsided, they returned to the warm office. There was no cold and dampness in the dense forest, only the faint fragrance of tea in the air.
"What exactly do you want to do?" Grindelwald couldn't help but ask after returning to Hogwarts. He even noticed that Ian's backpack had been cast with an expansion spell and a lightening spell. Despite the weight of the floating spell, Ian still felt heavy, which shows how many skeletons were contained in it that had suffered countless disasters.
"Of course it is to prevent Voldemort from using them." Of course, Ian's main purpose was not this, but he did go to the dilapidated village next door.
No one lives in the village for a long time.
However, the cemetery from many years ago is still there. Since Old Tom's tomb is really difficult to find, Ian showed his fairness there, without favoring one thing over another.
There was a reason why he kept Grindelwald waiting for nearly an hour.
After all, using magic to make a guest appearance as a tomb robber is very efficient, and it can make Wu Xie and Hu Bayi, who have been professional tomb robbers for generations, unemployed.
If it weren't for the fact that when [the bones reappeared] there would be some barriers and even sealed tombs blocking the people inside, Ian wouldn't actually need various shovels, hoes and other tools to help them.
“The bones of your father, given unintentionally, can revive your son; the flesh of your servant, given voluntarily, can revive your master; the blood of your enemy, given by force, can revive your master. The enemy is resurrected..." Grindelwald hummed softly, looking at Ian with some weird feelings in his eyes.
"It seems that you have already finished studying the book "Advanced Black Magic Revealed", and you are trying to prevent even this extremely harsh ritual. It is really bad luck for our whole family if our Dark Lord can meet you." At this moment, Grindelwald has secretly made up his mind to let others bury him deeper after his death.
The best kind that no one can find.
Hmm.
Having a blood descendant does seem to have some meaning. He began to think about whether he should be nicer to Aurora, and also to prevent Aurora from telling Ian the area where he and Dumbledore were buried together - after all, this little devil's heart is really dirty, and God knows what will happen after death. The peace will not be disturbed.
“Please, you two, stop the enemy for me.”
Just thinking about the possibility of such a scene, and then his and Dumbledore's corpses slowly crawling out of the grave, Grindelwald felt his scalp numb and his eyes darkened.
Why should I give "Advanced Black Magic Revealed" to this guy?
The inner torture made Grindelwald lose control of his expression.
"What's wrong with you, Professor?"
Ian took the initiative to show his concern, and he was also a little curious, "Logically speaking, you should consider this more than me, right? But you can already see clearly where the resurrection stone ring is. Logically speaking, you should be able to predict in advance the factors that may cause some hidden dangers in the future?”
The courses that Ian has never started are actually prophecy and divination. Although he has pretended to be a fortune teller, he has not even been able to establish panel-recognized skills in this subject since enrolling.
“That’s because the Resurrection Stone Ring is related to our principal. No matter how powerful the prophet is, he cannot see the entire script. The more you want to see, the easier it is to be played by fate.” Grindelwald shook his head, walked to the sink and started cleaning it. He seemed to have some mysophobia.
"I've been reminding you, Ian, that prophecies come at a price. The more you know, the greater the price, and you don't have to pay the price to gain the qualification to spy." Black The professor of Magical Defense gave Ian a thoughtful reminder on the subject of divination.
Ian mused.
“I remember that Professor Sybill Trelawney in the divination class would make dozens of predictions every day. Although many of them were false, sometimes her predictions were surprisingly accurate.”< br>
"In "The Witcher Haze: The Mystery of the Mysterious Man", it was even mentioned that she predicted the death of the mysterious man. This kind of prophecy is definitely a prophecy that has a great impact on the wizarding world, right?"
"But I think Professor Sybill Trelawney still Everything she eats still tastes good, and she didn't even break a leg. Last time she snatched my hot pot in the elf's kitchen." Ian asked his doubts, which were related to the prophet. Information is difficult to obtain from the books in the Hogwarts library.
Even in the restricted book area, there were not many related books. What he could find were the personal opinions of many authors, and there were even contradictions in different books.
This is a mysterious group.
The degree of mystery is second only to the so-called Department of Mysteries.
"You really have a wide range of learning." Grindelwald glanced at Ian approvingly and wiped his hands that he had washed several times with a towel. He did not answer Ian's question directly, but asked Ian En said with emotion, "Our principal, Mr. Albus Dumbledore, opened Hogwarts into a charity home. This is a kind of generosity and kindness that I can never achieve. This is why he is a great person." And the reason why I am different from him."
"The great are not the same. It is just a compliment with respect, and it is also a glorious title. It has power, and the protection of the great is enough to resist misfortune and certain costs for others."
"A mixed-race giant with a criminal record. , the pre-food that turned back halfway. The dead disciple, the neurotic old squib, and me, the uneducated charlatan." Grindelwald gestured to himself from top to bottom with his hands, and it was obvious that he was playing the charlatan he was talking about. Gilderoy Lockhart.
“The same goes for the wandering girls who do fortune-telling. These people all live under the protection of Albus, so their destiny will be changed in some ways.”
“Also Remember the question you asked me before? This is also why a prophet needs the participation of a great person if he wants to fulfill a prophecy that does not exist.”
Grindelwald's response taught Ian something.
However.
The explanation from this influential figure continued, "Of course, even with the protection of a great person, frequent prophecies like Trelawney will not be without cost. Her vision and Her mind has been imprisoned in the West Tower of Hogwarts for many years, and she has never grown up. This is a punishment from fate."
"And she will never notice it." The words are very philosophical. He had just arrived at Hogwarts not long ago, but he didn't expect to have detailed understanding and opinions about each of his colleagues.
“Maybe this isn’t so bad after all?”
Ian felt more of Dumbledore's weight in Grindelwald's words.
"Of course, after all, scaring young wizards and divination some trivial things is not something that has a great impact." Grindelwald walked back to his desk.
"As for the prophecy you said about Tom Riddle...in fact, I have another opinion about it." His words immediately attracted Ian's attention.
“What do you think?”
Ian temporarily removed the backpack from his back and sat across from Grindelwald. He looked at the glass he had not finished drinking. Kucha hesitated a little.
immediately.
I picked it up again and took a sip - it was still bitter enough to make people grin, but humans are like that sometimes. This kind of tea really makes people feel more and more addictive.
"It's just my family opinion. Even our principal may not agree with it." Grindelwald patched himself up first, and then looked out the window in the direction of the west tower and spoke softly.
“We all know that Sybill Trelawney’s ancestor is Cassandra Trelawney, from the very famous priestess in Greek mythology.”
"Kassandra Trelawney offended Apollo, so the prophecies she and her descendants made were accurate, but no one believed them true."
Grindelwald mentioned a common sense that everyone knew. After seeing Ian nod, he continued, "However, these legends are just legends. Being able to predict with perfect accuracy is not a punishment. There is no such thing as a punishment." A prophet can have such a powerful prophetic ability."
"Even if it is given by God, humans cannot bear it... Of course, I believe it. Trelawny is indeed burdened with a curse, but in my opinion, the prophecy ability of this family is not very good."
"The difference between this family and most prophet families is that they have a priest. Their ancestors, the blood of priests is far more outstanding than the blood of prophets."
Ian was slightly startled by Grindelwald's words.
"You mean..."
His eyes widened with a very incredible expression, and he had obviously guessed what Grindelwald meant. I saw Grindelwald showing a slightly frivolous smile.
“Yes, that’s right, it was not our Professor Trelawney who made that prophecy, but her ancestor. This is why she is still alive and kicking now and has not been affected by the prophecy. The reason for crushing the pieces." Grindelwald continued to explain his opinions and judgments to Ian without any surprise.
At the same time.
He whispered to Ian again seriously.
“Some prophecies cannot be spoken, and all prophets should understand this.”
This is like a profound reminder and a reflection on one's past. Ian was still in a state of shock at Grindelwald's somewhat crazy remarks.
"Psychic? Is this a kind of crossing the boundary between life and death?"
Ian doesn't think that crossing the boundary between life and death must be his own privilege, he just didn't expect that in Green It seems to DeVoe that Professor Trelawney's family actually has this special ability.
But it does make sense if you think about it. Every time Professor Trelawney makes a powerful prediction, it seems that he is a different person and will not remember anything afterwards.
The magic stick's incomparable behavior is also very consistent with the stereotype of a psychic.
"The souls of priests are different from ours, and the places they go to after death are also different. These can be considered descendants of Fuze." Grindelwald indeed has very profound knowledge.
I am afraid he is right about one thing. After spending decades reading and thinking in a quiet place, he will certainly have more knowledge than Dumbledore to a certain extent.
"The descendants will benefit from this, but it will be miserable for the ancestors." Ian can think of that kind of scene. Sybill Trelawney actually disturbs her own elders every now and then. Ancestors. Cassandra Trelawney can actually bear not to kill her own descendants, and she seems to have a good temper.
"Hahahaha, your perspective on the problem is quite interesting." Grindelwald laughed very wantonly, but then he made Ian feel the moodiness of the Face-Changer again.
"I'm a little sleepy. Do you want to stay at my place all night?" It was obvious that he was chasing people away, and he couldn't tell that he and Ian were having a good conversation just now.
"..."
Ian just thought that old men would also go through menopause. He quickly picked up his backpack again, and the bones made a rattling sound in the backpack.
Grindelwald's eyelids jumped wildly.
"Are you going to sleep with these ghost things tonight? Or are you afraid of scaring your roommate?" He sent Ian to the door of the Defense Against the Dark Arts office.
“Today is Halloween, Professor.”
Ian blinked, made a goodbye gesture to him, and then ran towards the spiral staircase. When he turned back, the door of the Defense Against the Dark Arts office had already been closed.
The lights are still on inside.
Obviously Grindelwald was fooling the child when he said he wanted to sleep.
"After all, I am free again, and I have gained a lot. I have to study in the Room of Requirement all night tonight!" Ian ran towards the corridor carrying the heavy skeleton on his back.
His heart was filled with excitement - the bones of the descendants of Slytherin!
If the knowledge recorded in "Origin of Bloodline" is not too wrong, he might be able to get a glimpse of the secrets of Parseltongue and learn the mysterious language that can communicate with the baby basilisk.
God knows how much time Ian has wasted in the library trying to learn Parseltongue. This ability hidden in his bloodline does require some special means to learn.
"I want you to speak to me, descendants of the Big Four!" Ian was carrying a basket of skeletons on his back with excitement, and his long legs were heading towards the Room of Requirement as if the accelerator was full. He flew away from the eighth floor.
Nothing more.
He had just arrived on the fourth floor when he bumped into several ghosts flying in the air. At this time, they did have the right to use the school, but today's ghosts But it was different from what Ian encountered in the past. All the ghosts were dressed in costumes and smiling happily.
"It's little Ian who always stays up at night, so he definitely won't grow taller!" A chubby ghost stopped in front of Ian, and he grabbed Ian as if he was "drunk".
"He is the child who can meet us! He must be qualified to participate in our banquet! Yes! That's it!" The fat ghost suggested to other ghosts around him.
Ian was not asked whether he agreed or not - the name of this ghost was Edmund Grubb, and the cause of death was that he burped and farted at the door of the restaurant after eating poisonous plums.
He is a rather out-of-touch ghost, and he even often stops students from eating at meal times. He doesn't know whether he is jealous that the students can eat or is afraid that the students will eat poisonous things like him.
"He must have been ready to come to our banquet! Look! He also brought a skeleton band!" The ghost Edmund Grubb, who was lying on the backpack behind Ian, wanted to say fat.
He was the resident ghostly fat monk of Hufflepuff House, who was executed for being suspected of using his wand to cure peasant pox and conjuring rabbits from the chalice to amuse everyone.
“No, I didn’t!” Ian explained quickly, but the ghosts, who were obviously already high, didn’t care so much and just lifted him up and flew towards the underground classroom.
These ghosts even chose to take the right path in order to avoid Ian being blocked by the bricks and tiles on the way, which is very considerate, but this is obviously not the "ghost-lifting" experience that Ian wants to have.
Being able to contact ghosts is obviously not without its drawbacks.
"The dinner continues! We welcome the living little wizard!" A group of ghosts put Ian down in the underground classroom. The spacious classroom was decorated with colorful lights and dim candlelight. They were all dark and tiny. The candle burned with a faint blue luster, and even when it shone on Ian's young face, it gave him a gloomy feeling.
Ian felt as if he had suddenly entered the limbo of hell. The polluting heavy metal music was playing in his ears. It was so irritating that it was like hundreds of vampires rubbing their claws against a blackboard - it was heartbreaking at the same time. , Ian's goosebumps also rose, and he felt like he was going to shout Long Live Cthulhu the next moment.
It’s really polluting!
“Welcome, welcome!” Nick, who was almost headless, immediately greeted him. He was covered with a black velvet curtain and was dressed very solemnly.
"I'm so happy to have the little wizard here." The man took off his feathered hat and bowed to Ian in a more outstanding and respectful manner.
The feeling of attaching great importance to it made Ian unable to spit out the words "I didn't expect it". He had obviously felt how others felt when he used the "spirit of craftsmanship".
"Happy holidays, gentlemen and ladies." Ian could only grit his teeth and accept the reality helplessly. He looked around, and there were more than a hundred ghosts celebrating Halloween in the classroom.
There was a group of cheerful nuns, even swaying on the dance floor, and a soul in chains and ragged clothes, sitting on the ground alone and sighing gloomily. There was also a ghost with an arrow stuck in his forehead who started chatting with the fat monks. Slytherin's scrawny ghost Bloody Barrow was also unhappy.
Ian was not able to see the little Ms. Ravenclaw here, so naturally he could not continue his persuasion work. The atmosphere in this extremely cold classroom was very lively.
There are golden plates everywhere on the table, but they are all rotten meat, fruits and vegetables. It can only be said that thanks to the really low temperature in the underground classroom, otherwise it will inevitably happen It stank to the sky - it still stinks in fact, with chunks of maggot-covered beef and green-haired cheese put together.
With the burnt bread and meat patties leaking foul-smelling liquid, Ian really couldn't find anything to eat. He also saw a huge tombstone-shaped gray cake on the long table.
It was probably the only thing that was normal, and it had very dense writing on it in icing: Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington.
Died: October 31, 1492.
This cake obviously belongs to Nearly Headless Nick. Today is not only the arrival of Halloween, but also the time when Nearly Headless Nick died.
"Happy Death Day, Sir."
Ian always felt that his blessings were a bit strange, but fortunately the ghosts didn't care much about it. Nick, who was almost headless, even said to Ian En bowed gratefully again.
"Few little wizards are willing to attend our banquet, because we neither belong to the world nor the other side. Your arrival is the happiest thing for me tonight."
This is a very polite, He is a kind-hearted and helpful ghost. Because of this, faced with his words, Ian's words to say goodbye were blocked again.
He really wants to study the secrets of the Gaunt family quickly!
Uncomfortable!
I want to cry!
"I hope you can have fun here." The almost headless Nick stretched out his hand to Ian, and Ian forced a smile and shook the ghost's cold hand.
"Sure enough, you are so special, you made me feel the touch again..." Nick, who was almost headless, was a little lost. After a while, he quickly apologized and let go of Ian's hand.
Since a new ghost arrived, he quickly went to greet him. At this time, Helena Ravenclaw walked in, and she immediately saw the brightly colored Ian among the ghost group.
“I didn’t expect you, little Ian, to come to the ghosts’ banquet.” Helena Ravenclaw floated over curiously, and she pointed at the table in front of Ian and twitched hard nose.
"Can you really feel the taste of food like this?" Ian finally met a very familiar ghost, and finally couldn't help but ask his doubts.
"Just a little bit is better than not smelling at all." Helena Ravenclaw still maintained the dignity of a lady, unlike the fat monk not far away who just stuffed his head into a pile of rotten meat.
“Ghosts don’t have much entertainment, nor do they have the same perceptions as when they were still alive, but we still have memories. For many ghosts, this is actually a punishment after choosing to escape.” Hai Lena Ravenclaw looked towards the stage, where a ghost singer was exerting a true artistic talent.
A wailing sound similar to the howl of a banshee in Left 4 Dead rang out in the auditorium. "There is always a choice, as long as you can truly look forward." Ian was still thinking about his promise to Ms. Ravenclaw, so he covered his ears and moved closer to Helena Ravenclaw.
“I know you mean well, but look at the ghosts here. They have only increased over the years. Sometimes what you think may not be a choice for us. "The road." Helena Ravenclaw has responded to Ian's persuasion more than once, and Ian has not known how to invite Helena Ravenclaw to come to him on a suitable night more than once.
"Are you free tomorrow night?" Ian looked at the time. It was already past midnight. After calculating the time, he finally spoke, but his voice sounded a little embarrassed.
“Huh?” Helena Ravenclaw gave Ian a strange look, obviously misunderstanding, “Little Ian, you actually want to date a ghost who is hundreds of years old? "
"Your thoughts are too impure." After saying that, the smiling Helena Ravenclaw patted Ian's head, and then floated towards the man who was familiar with her. ghost.
“…”
Ian didn’t expect to fail so quickly. Maybe he should choose to confess? But it's hard for ghosts to keep secrets, and he doesn't want the whole school to know that he can travel back and forth between the two worlds.
"She doesn't like you, I like... little guy, you can really meet ghosts, my God, what a magical ability this is." The female Witch ghost floated over after singing.
She seems to be a ghost specially invited by the ghosts. She doesn't usually live in Hogwarts. She just heard about Ian, so she floated over and touched Ian's arm with her hand.
Ghosts really have trouble keeping secrets.
"They all call me the Howling Widow. Maybe we can have a chat? Don't be shy, little one. I'm really interested in your ability to touch ghosts."
< br>The costumed ghost chased Ian all over the classroom.
He runs.
She chased.
He really wants to get wings and fly.
"I think you are more suitable to find a ghost like you!" Ian took out his wand and knocked the widow ghost away. Unexpectedly, another burst of cheers broke out in the classroom.
"It's magic! The magic hit the ghost! His name is Ian! The Ian who brought us the skeleton musician!" Edmund Grubb, who had previously proposed to carry Ian here, again Started chirping.
"They are not skeleton musicians!" Ian looked at the ghosts approaching and quickly protected his backpack, but his words were not believed by the ghosts.
"Isn't this the Skeleton Band? One, two, three, four, five...I can't even count."
"It must be! I saw the band invited by Dumbledore yesterday. They look like this, white, fleshless, with distinct bones. What are they if they are not skeleton musicians?"
"Quick! Wake them up! Let them perform!"
"Little Ian must want us to reward him, so he never admits that he brought the Skeleton Band, please let them do it!" Bloody Barrow goes and asks Peeves to bring Ian a glass of butterbeer!”
...
The ghosts were chattering around Ian.
Ian originally wanted to explain that this was just his research specimen, but after hearing the fat monk's cheerful words, he swallowed back what he wanted to say for the third time today.
"Can you get butterbeer?" This is the only food that Ian cannot get in the Hogwarts kitchen, and the elves have not made it easier for him in this regard.
Third grade is the age limit.
As for the non-alcoholic version...can it still be called beer?
"Of course, there is alcohol~"
The fat monk lowered his voice and came over with a sly expression. For the ghosts who are having fun, some rules don't seem to be that important.
"Isn't it the rancid kind?" Ian swallowed and asked a little worriedly. He had already seen what the ghosts' food looked like.
"Of course not! It was something a professor gave us last night. Originally we wanted to let the flavor settle before enjoying it, but it seems like you are not an honest little wizard, hehehe~" Another ghost floated over, which reassured Ian, and he looked in the direction of the gate.
"Peeves, can you find it? How about I go get it myself?" Ian was eager to try it. He was really greedy for the things he had wanted to do since entering the wizarding world but had never been able to enjoy it.
"Of course! Today is a holiday! You can drink whatever you want! Celebrate! Just do your best!" The cheers of a ghost simply spoke to Ian's heart.
In a short while.
Sure enough.
Reluctantly Peeves brought in a lot of butterbeer. When it saw Ian, it immediately looked like it was working hard, put down the things, and immediately turned around and ran away with oil on its soles. It was as if he was afraid that if he stayed here for one more minute, he would be set alight by Ian to cheer up other ghosts.
"Okay, okay! It's really butterbeer!" Ian quickly poured himself a glass. He smelled it first to make sure it hadn't gone bad before taking a sip into his mouth.
It tastes really good.
Ian even wanted to eat it with beer fried chicken.
Probably out of anticipation for the Skeleton Band, a ghost immediately went to notify the elf, and soon Ian got the fresh midnight snack he wanted.
Although there was still the smell of rotten food in the house, this obviously did not affect Ian's late night snack after dispelling the smell. He even used magic to add ice to the butterbeer.
"It has a different flavor!"
In fact, the alcohol content in butter beer is not high, but some people will choose to add some extra alcohol. The portion Ian drank obviously has extra alcohol.
Just a few glasses of beer.
He was already a little embarrassed.
I never touched alcohol when I was a god of learning in my previous life.
He has encountered it in this life.
"Does it taste good?"
A ghost approached with envy and curiosity. He probably died in an era when butterbeer had not yet been invented, so he could not imagine the taste of many later foods.
“It’s much better than without alcohol, and you can still make bubbles after drinking it. Look at the way I drink it.” Ian drank another large amount in front of the ghost. Cup down.
He remembered that this was one of the abominable ghosts who brought him to this banquet, "It tastes so good and delicious, and it still feels cold when it's in the stomach."
Had another drink.
Ian chewed on the chicken leg and made an extremely exaggerated expression of enjoyment. This was the scheming idea from the little wizard, and it really made all the ghosts look so envious that their eyes almost fell out of their heads.
“It’s good to be alive.”
A gluttonous ghost sighed.
"It's okay, I'll eat more and drink more for you, just treat it as if you have eaten too." Ian looked at the sighing ghost, immediately drank another glass and took a few bites of the chicken drumsticks.
This ghost was also the ghost that carried him to the banquet before.
And what’s more, it’s his reputation.
Yes.
Ian was carried to this banquet face down.
"He is still a child...don't lead him astray." Helena Ravenclaw floated over at this time and looked at Ian who was tinkering with the skeleton.
"Hey, if they want to see some band, let's come and see it."
With a blushing face, Ian poured out something from Voldemort's grandpa or grandma, or maybe a cousin. The magic wand improvised a Gaunt band at random.
“The bones reappeared!”
Ian’s magic was very successful, and then Tom Riddle’s family members stood together and stood up at the banquet of the ghosts. The dancing really started.
"Get up! This is called music and dance!" Ian may have resurrected Voldemort's seven aunts and eight aunts, and a group of skeletons began to imitate Michael Jackson under his control.
"..."
Helena Ravenclaw looked at the group of resurrected skeletons with a complicated expression. She knew that she was obviously worrying too much. The ghosts might lead the little wizard to evil. What she should be worried about is whether the little wizard will lead the ghosts to evil! How could anyone learn the [Corpse Control Curse] to this extent in the first grade?
Dozens of skeletons!
Do you plan to form an army of the undead after graduation?
……
The moon was obscured by dark clouds.
There is a unique singing and dancing at Hogwarts.
And the other side.
The dilapidated old Gunter house once again welcomed two visitors. A bearded man and a long-haired woman walked along the overgrown mountain road towards the house where Ian and Grindelwald left. Along the way, several Muggles who had been restored to factory settings were already awake, but they were all squealing in the cold wind like babies.
A few rays of green light shot away, and the Muggles who had evil intentions towards wizards fell to the ground. After rejuvenating for a while, they truly fell into a peaceful sleep like a baby.
The two wizards walked straight to the door of Gaunt's old house without even looking at the Muggle corpses. Their expressions changed drastically when they discovered that all the protective magic had failed.
"Master's treasure! Is the treasure that the master asked us to check really stolen?" The woman rushed in hurriedly, her voice full of anger and fear.
"Is the thing still there?"
The bearded man stood guard at the door.
He asked loudly to his two companions who entered the house.
His voice was also very uneasy.
“It’s gone!”
The woman rummaged through the whole room and kicked down a table with some incompetence and fury. She searched for a moment again without giving up, but she was still there. There is nothing to gain in a relatively large house.
"What we are looking for is a ring! It must be very small!" The bearded man couldn't help but walked into the house quickly. He looked around at the decayed furniture and began to destroy it. try to find.
"You bastard of the Ministry of Magic! Of course I know what we are looking for! Can't you see it! It's gone! The master will definitely be angry with us for this!"
The woman's voice was full of fear and anger, "Who is he! How dare he! How dare he steal the Dark Lord's things! I want to catch this guy and kill him!"
It looks like he is afraid in comparison. A hysterical woman, even though the bearded man was filled with fear, he could at least maintain his basic sanity.
"Don't panic. The owner asked us to find his things because he knew something in advance. The fact that we didn't find them is not because we made any mistakes and the items were lost."
The bearded man analyzed reasonably.
However, the woman sneered, "Do you think the master will care if we make mistakes? Don't forget who he is! He is the extremely powerful Dark Lord! As long as we let him down! We will You will be punished! Have you forgotten the high standards he has placed on us over the years?”
As soon as these words came out.
The bearded man became silent.
The quiet atmosphere was only filled with the chirping of insects outside the house.
"It must be Dumbledore! Or one of Dumbledore's thugs!" The woman gritted her teeth and cursed in a low voice. She obviously hated the person she mentioned.
"We can't fight Dumbledore. Even if the things are in his place, we can't get them back." The bearded man sighed, and the female companion next to him obviously knew this very well.
"The master needs his things, and we must help him find them." The woman couldn't come up with a solution, but she still said to the man in a firm tone.
"Of course I know this... I think the master also knows this." The bearded man seemed to have realized something, and he took out a special issue from his arms.
“Something was lost in Gringotts today. It is said that it was what the saints broke in and did. Dumbledore had not long ago reported to the Ministry of Magic that he was the one who lost the thing. ”
The bearded man seemed to be analyzing the situation.
“What do you mean?”
The woman was confused.
"Dumbledore is not without enemies, nor is there no one who can fight against Dumbledore. His old enemy Grindelwald took action, obviously unwilling to remain trapped in prison."
"What Dumbledore might have lost , is it some kind of contract he used to trap Grindelwald? If the saints find this contract for their boss..." The bearded man looked out the window, the visibility was very low in the dark cloudy night, but It wasn't that he wanted to see anything outside the window.
"As expected of the master, he has already controlled all the information." The bearded man's exclamation made the woman confused. Faced with the woman's gaze, he took out a door key.
“This is the second task assigned to me by the master.”
The bearded man looked down at the somewhat eerie metal statue in his hand.
“What mission?”
The woman frowned.
"If you don't know, then the master doesn't trust you enough, hehe... stay here and wait for me." With that, the bearded man activated the door key in his hand.
His figure disappeared into Gunter's old house.
Austria.
Nurmengard.
The bearded man put on a black cloak for himself and carefully broke through the layers of protective magic. When he was shocked that these protective magics were too simple.
He came to the inhabited cell.
“Interesting.”
The man inside was reading a book, but he looked a little pretentious. He raised his head and looked at the bearded man outside the door, his eyes seeming to show a bit of displeasure.
“Don’t you know this is where I, Gellert Grindelwald, hides? You dare to disturb my peace. It seems that this era has forgotten how terrifying the reputation of my first generation Dark Lord is! ”
The momentum is indeed fierce.
The bearded man was also a little scared.
However.
He still stuffed something into the room after looking around.
"My master asked me to bring you his greetings."
It was a brand new wand.
(End of this chapter)