"Merlin's beard!"
Just as Anton and Dumbledore were chatting, a hushed shout suddenly came from the scene before them.
Clearly, this was not merely "Refraction of Light"; it also involved a little "transmission of sound."
But that was beside the point. The two watched the scene in the mist with peculiar expressions as an old wizard with a conspicuous silver-white walrus mustache and a bald head hurried out, wrapped in a bathrobe, with bath bubbles still clinging to the tips of his mustache.
The old wizard did not actually look all that old. He had already been a highly successful professor during Voldemort's school days, which meant he was now approaching a hundred, yet he looked no more than fifty or sixty.
Through the neckline of his bathrobe, they could even see sturdy muscles, and his skin was well cared for.
The old wizard glanced left and right, picked up a vial containing the blood of some fantastic beast from the table, and splashed it around before giving his wand a forceful flick.
"Silencio!"
Instantly, all sound vanished from the scene in the mist.
But Anton and Dumbledore could still read his lips and make out the spell the old wizard cast next—"Diffindo!"
As the old wizard waved his wand, the entire room looked as though it had undergone a fierce battle.
A grandfather clock first slammed into the wall, then rebounded under a tremendous force, flew across the room, and shattered into pieces in the middle of the hall.
The strings of the piano in the corner of the sitting room seemed to play the most electrifying tune imaginable. Its keys exploded into the air, dancing out a few notes before scattering everywhere.
As the old wizard moved about, the enormous chandelier crashed down, its glass shards throwing up