Thump~
Thump~
Thump~
A figure Apparated rapidly through the woods. Spells clashed from time to time, blasting apart the trees nearby or sending enormous boulders flying high into the air.
"Hahahaha..."
The woods were filled with wild, carefree laughter. "Dumbledore, Dumbledore, do you see? That ancient protection magic of Lily's—or whatever it's called—can't affect me anymore!"
"If you hadn't stopped me, I would've killed that woman just now, while I was at it. Hahaha..."
"Dumbledore, let's see who finds that Boy Who Lived, Harry Potter, first!"
"Dumbledore, are you getting old? Why are you moving slower than me?"
"Hahahaha..."
"Dumbledore, you'd better hurry. If I find Potter first, all you'll be able to do is cry over your Chosen One's corpse!"
Thump~
Tom Riddle's figure flickered through the woods and vanished.
Thump~
Dumbledore appeared where Tom had just been, his face filled with anger and murderous intent. He held himself in check, his gaze dark and distant.
Thump~
Anton came after him, laughing wildly. "Gahaha..."
"Tom, my Tom, where are you going?"
"Don't run! Come play with me!"
"Gahaha..."
"Why are you hiding from me? Aren't you supposed to call me Professor? Don't run!"
A furious curse drifted faintly through the air.
"Oh, my boy, you're obviously far too nervous!"
Mr. Granger, Hermione's father, looked at Ron with concern. He knew the boy well enough. Whenever the holidays came around, he and his wife would wait with the Weasleys for the train to the magical world.
He got along very well with Mr. Weasley. He appreciated Mr. Weasley's romantic notions about Muggle culture, and Mr. Weasley enjoyed his theories about wizarding magic, which were full of errors but endlessly entertaining.
One of them read unreliable books on Muggle Studies to learn about the Muggle world; the other learned