When returning.
Grindelwald fell completely silent, without saying a word, and pressed Ian's shoulder to activate Portkey - he had seen many strange things in his life, but he still seemed to have little experience.
There's not much hatred!
How could someone directly dig up someone else's ancestral grave? With the activation of Portkey, Grindelwald with a complicated mood and Ian with an elated expression 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 was still in use. Extension Charm and Levitation Charm are used to reduce weight. Even so, Ian still feels heavy, which shows how many skeletons that have suffered unreasonable disasters are contained in it.
"Of course it's to prevent Voldemort from using them." Ian's main purpose was certainly not this, but he did go to the dilapidated village next door.
No one lives in the village long ago.
However, the cemetery many years ago is still there. Since the tomb of old Tom is really difficult to find, Ian showed his fairness there, without favoring one over another.
There's a reason why he made Grindelwald wait for nearly an hour.
After all, using magic to make a guest appearance as a tomb robber is very efficient, and can make Wu Xie and Hu Bayi, who have been professional tomb robbers for generations, unemployed.
If [Revenant Resurrection] had not had some fortification stones or even sealed tombs to block the people inside, Ian would not have actually needed various tools such as shovels and hoes to help them.
"The bones of your father, donated unintentionally, can revive your son; the flesh of your servant, donated voluntarily, can revive your master; the blood of your enemy, donated by force, can revive your enemy..." Grindelwald whispered, looking at Ian with a strange feeling.
"It seems that you have already finished studying the book <Secrets of the Darkest Art>, and you are even trying to prevent such an extremely harsh ritual. It is really bad luck for our whole family that our Dark Lord can meet you." At this moment, Grindelwald has secretly made up his mind that he must let others bury him deeper after his death in the future.
It's best that no one can find it.
Hmm.
Having a blood descendant does seem to have some meaning. He began to think about whether he should be better to Aurora, and he also had to prevent Aurora from telling Ian the area where he and Dumbledore were buried together - after all, this little devil's heart was really dirty, and God knows whether his peace after death would be disturbed by him.
"Please, you two, stop the enemy for me."
Just thinking that such a scene is very likely to occur, and then he and Dumbledore's corpse slowly crawled out of the grave, Grindelwald felt that his scalp was numb and his eyes were black.
Why should I give <Secrets of the Darkest Art> 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, "It stands to reason that you should take this into consideration more than me. You have seen clearly where 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 pretended to be a Divination teacher, he has not even been able to establish the skills recognized by the panel in this subject since enrolling.
"That's because Resurrection Stone Ring is related to our principal. No matter how powerful Seer is, he can't see all the scripts. The more he wants to see, the easier it is to be played by fate." Grindelwald shook his head and walked to the sink to start cleaning. He seemed to have some mysophobia.
"I've been reminding you that Ian and Prophecy need to pay a price. The more you know, the greater the price will be, and you don't have to pay the price to get the qualification to spy." Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor reminded Ian earnestly on the subject of Divination.
Ian is thoughtful.
"I remember that Divination Class's Sybill·Professor Trelawney would make dozens of Prophecys every day. Although many of them were fake, sometimes her Prophecys were surprisingly accurate."
"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 see that Sybill·Professor Trelawney still tastes good in everything she eats. She didn't even break a leg. Last time she snatched my hot pot in House-elf's kitchen." Ian asked his doubts. It was difficult to get information about Seer from Hogwarts Library's books.
Even Restricted Section doesn't have many related books. What he can find are the personal opinions of many authors, and there may even be 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 areas." Grindelwald glanced at Ian approvingly and wiped his hands that he had washed several times with a towel. He did not directly answer Ian's question, but asked Ian expressed some emotion, "Our principal Albus. Mr. 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 I am different from him."
"Greatness is not only a respectful compliment, but also a glorious title. It has power. The protection of the great is enough to resist misfortune and certain costs for others."
"Half-Giant who has a criminal record, former Death Eaters who turned his back on him halfway, neurotic old Squib, and me, an ignorant charlatan." Grindelwald gestured at himself from top to bottom with both hands. It was obvious that the charlatan he was talking about was the Gilderoy. Lockhart he was playing.
"The same goes for the homeless women who tell fortunes Divination. These people all live under the shelter of Albus, so their destiny will be changed differently."
"Remember the question you asked me before? This is also why if Seer wants to realize a Prophecy that does not exist, it requires the participation of great people."
Ian gained something from Grindelwald's response.
However.
The explanation from this man of the hour continued, "Of course, even with the protection of a great person, doing Prophecy as frequently as Trelawney will not be without cost. Her vision and thinking have been imprisoned in Hogwarts West Tower for many years, and she has never grown. This is a punishment from fate."
"And she herself will never notice it." Grindelwald's words were very philosophical. He had just arrived at Hogwarts not long ago, but he didn't expect to have a detailed understanding and opinion of each colleague.
"Maybe this isn't so bad?"
Ian felt more of the weight of Dumbledore in Grindelwald's words.
"Of course, after all, scaring the little wizard, Divination some family-friendly things, is not a big impact." Grindelwald walked back to the desk.
"As for what you said about Tom. Riddle's Prophecy... In fact, I have another opinion on this." 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 cup of bitter tea that he had not finished before and hesitated for a moment.
Immediately.
I picked it up again and took a sip - it was still bitter enough to make me grin, but humans are like that sometimes, and this kind of tea really makes people feel more and more heady.
"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 West Tower and spoke softly.
"We all know that the ancestor of Sybill·Trelawney is Cassandra·Trelawney, which comes from the very famous priestess in the Greece myth."
"Cassandra·Trelawney offended Apollo, so what she and her descendants said about Prophecy was perfect, but no one believed it."
Grindelwald said a common sense that everyone knew. After seeing Ian nodded, he continued, "However, this kind of legend is just a legend. Prophecy's ability to hit the target with one shot is not a punishment. No Seer can have such a powerful Prophecy ability."
"Even if it is given by God, humans cannot bear it... Of course, I believe that Trelawney is indeed burdened with a curse, but in my opinion, the Prophecy ability of this family is not that outstanding."
"The difference between this family and most Prophecy families is probably that they have an ancestor who was a priest. The priest blood in them is far more outstanding than the Seer blood."
Grindelwald's words made Ian slightly stunned.
"You mean..."
His eyes widened, his expression was very incredible, and he had obviously guessed what Grindelwald wanted to express. Grindelwald showed a slightly frivolous smile.
"Yes, that's right, the one who made that Prophecy was not our Professor Trelawney, but her ancestor. This is why she is still alive and kicking and has not been affected by Prophecy and was crushed into pieces." Grindelwald explained his views and judgments to Ian in a non-stop manner.
At the same time.
He whispered to Ian again in a serious voice.
"Some Prophecy cannot be said out loud, and all Seer should understand this."
This is like a profound reminder and a reflection on his past. Ian is 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?"
It's not that Ian thinks that crossing the boundary between life and death must be his own privilege, he just didn't expect that from Grindelwald's point of view, Professor Trelawney's family actually has this special ability.
But it makes sense if you think about it. Every time Professor Trelawney makes a very powerful Prophecy, it seems that he is a completely different person and cannot remember anything afterwards.
The incomparable behavior of the magician is also very consistent with the stereotype of a psychic.
"The priest's soul is different from ours, and the place he goes to after death is also different. He can be considered a descendant of Fuze." Grindelwald indeed has very profound knowledge.
I'm afraid he is right about one thing. If he stays in a quiet place and thinks for decades, 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 ancestors every now and then. 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 Changing King again.
"I'm a little sleepy. Do you want to stay at my place all night?" It's obvious that you are chasing people away, and you can't tell that you had a pleasant conversation with Ian just now.
"..."
Ian As an old man, menopause can also occur. He quickly picked up his backpack again, and the bones made a rattling sound in the backpack.
Grindelwald's eyelids jumped wildly when he saw it.
"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 Defence Against the Dark Arts's 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 to Defence Against the Dark Arts's 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 have regained my freedom, and I have gained a lot. I have to study in Room of Requirement all night tonight!" Ian ran towards the corridor carrying the heavy bones on his back.
His heart was filled with excitement - The bones of the Slytherin descendant family!
If the knowledge recorded on <Origin of Bloodlines> is not too wrong, he may be able to get a glimpse of the secrets about Parseltongue and learn the mysterious language that can communicate with baby Basilisk.
God knows how much time Ian wasted in the library to learn Parseltongue. This ability hidden in the bloodline indeed requires some special means to learn.
"I want you to speak to me, descendants of Four Founders!" Ian was carrying a basket of bones on his back with excitement, and his long legs flew towards Seventh Floor where Room of Requirement was.
Nothing more.
He had just arrived on the fourth floor when he bumped into several ghosts flying around in the air. At this time, they did have the right to use the school, but today's ghosts were different from those Ian encountered in the past. All the ghosts were dressed in costumes and beaming with joy.
"It's little Ian who always stays up at night, so he will definitely not grow taller!" A chubby ghost stopped in front of Ian. He seemed to be "drunk" and grabbed Ian.
"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 the other ghosts around him.
I didn't ask Ian 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 prunes.
He is a relatively out-of-the-box ghost, and he even often stops students from eating at meal times. I don't know if he is jealous that the students can eat or because he 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 was even fatter.
He was Hufflepuff House's resident ghost, Fat Friar, who was executed for being suspected of using a magic wand to cure peasant pox and conjuring a rabbit from a chalice to amuse everyone.
"No, I didn't!" Ian quickly explained, but the ghosts, who were obviously already high, didn't care so much and just lifted him up and flew towards the underground classroom.
In order to avoid Ian being blocked by walls and bricks, these ghosts even chose to take the right path, which is very considerate, but this is obviously not the "ghost carrying people" experience that Ian wants to get.
Being able to contact ghosts is obviously not without its drawbacks.
"The dinner continues! We welcome the living little wizard!" A group of ghosts dropped Ian in the underground classroom. The spacious classroom was decorated with colorful lights and dim candlelight. They were all extremely black candles, burning with a faint blue luster. Even the light shining on Ian's immature face gave him a gloomy feeling.
Ian felt as if he had strayed into the limbo of hell all of a sudden. The polluting heavy metal music was playing in his ears. It was very irritating, as if hundreds of Vampire were rubbing their claws against the blackboard. It was sour at the same time, and Ian's goosebumps also rose. He felt like he was about to shout long live Cthulhu in the next moment.
It's really polluting!
"Welcome, welcome!" Nearly Headless Nick 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 say "I didn't think about it" and couldn't say it out. He has obviously felt how others feel when he uses 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 glumly. There was also a ghost with an arrow stuck in his forehead who started chatting with Fat Friar and the others. Slytherin's scrawny ghost Bloody Baron was also depressed.
Ian couldn't see little Lady Ravenclaw here, so naturally he couldn't 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 the temperature in the underground classroom is really low, otherwise it would definitely stink. In fact, it is still very smelly now, with large pieces of beef covered with maggots and cheese with green hairs put together.
Ian really couldn't find anything to eat with the burnt bread and meat patties leaking out foul-smelling liquid. He also saw a huge tombstone-shaped gray cake on the long table.
This is probably the only normal thing, with very dense text written in icing on it: Nicholas de Mimsy-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 blessing was a bit strange, but fortunately the ghosts didn't care much about it. Nearly Headless Nick even bowed gratefully to Ian.
"Few little wizards are willing to attend our banquet, because we neither belong to this world nor the other side. Your arrival is the happiest thing for me tonight."
This is a very polite, kind-hearted, and helpful ghost. Because of this, in the face of his words, Ian was blocked again when he wanted to say goodbye.
He really wants to quickly study the secret of the Gaunt Family!
Uncomfortable!
Want to cry!
"I hope you can have fun here." Nearly Headless Nick stretched out his hand to Ian, and Ian forced a smile and shook the ghost's cold hand.
"As expected, you are so special, you made me feel the touch again..." Nearly Headless Nick was a little lost. After a moment, he quickly apologized and let go of Ian's hand.
As a new ghost arrived, he quickly went to greet him. At this time, Helena·Ravenclaw walked in, and she saw the brightly colored Ian among the ghosts at a glance.
"I didn't expect you, little Ian, to come to the ghosts' banquet." Helena·Ravenclaw floated over curiously. She pointed at the table in front of Ian and sniffed vigorously.
"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 it at all." Helena·Ravenclaw still maintained the dignity of a lady, unlike Fat Friar 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 senses as when they were still alive, but we still have memories. For many ghosts, this is actually a punishment after choosing to escape." Helena·Ravenclaw looked towards the stage, where a ghost singer was showing off his true artistic talent.
Great Hall sounded a wail similar to the howl of a banshee in Left 4 Dead.
"You can always make a choice, as long as you can really look forward." Ian was still thinking about his promise to Lady Ravenclaw. 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 the path we can choose." Helena·Ravenclaw has More than once, he responded to Ian's persuasion in this way, and more than once, Ian didn't know how to invite Helena·Ravenclaw to come to him on a suitable night.
"Are you free tomorrow night?" Ian looked at the time and saw that 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 so impure." After saying that, Helena·Ravenclaw smiled and patted Ian's head, and then floated towards the ghost who was familiar with him.
"..."
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." After singing the song, the female Witch ghost floated over.
She seems to be a ghost specially invited by the ghosts. She doesn't live with Hogwarts normally, but 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 Wailing Widow. Maybe we can have a chat? Don't be shy, little guy. I'm really interested in your ability to touch ghosts."
The colorfully dressed ghost chased Ian all over the classroom.
He ran.
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, started babbling again.
"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 yesterday that the band invited by Dumbledore looked like this, white, fleshless, with clear bones. They are not skeleton musicians, what are they?"
"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. Let Bloody Baron go and ask Peeves to get 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 Fat Friar Le Hao Hao's 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 obtain among Hogwarts Kitchen. House-elf did not make it easier for him in terms of management 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~"
Fat Friar lowered his voice and came over with a sly expression. For the ghosts who were having fun, some rules didn't seem to be that important.
"Isn't it the rancid kind?" Ian swallowed, and asked a little worriedly, but he had already seen what the ghosts' food was like.
"Of course not! It was something given to us by a professor last night. Originally, we wanted to let the taste settle before enjoying it, but it seems that you are not an honest little wizard, hehehe~" Another ghost floated over, giving Ian reassurance, and he looked in the direction of the door.
"Peeves Can you find it? How about I go get it myself?" Ian is eager to try it. He is really greedy for the things that he has wanted to do since entering the wizarding world but has 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.
Soon.
Sure enough.
Reluctantly, Peeves moved a lot of Butterbeer. When it saw Ian, it immediately looked like it was working very hard, and then immediately turned around and smeared its soles with oil as soon as it put down the things. It was as if it was afraid that if it stayed here for one more minute, it would be ignited 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 in his mouth.
It tastes really good.
Ian even wants to eat it with beer fried chicken.
Probably out of anticipation for the Skeleton Band, a ghost immediately went to notify House-elf, and soon Ian got the fresh midnight snack he wanted.
Although there was still the smell of rotten food in the house, it obviously did not affect Ian's late-night snack after dispelling the smell. He even used magic to add ice to Butterbeer.
"It has a different flavor!"
In fact, the alcohol content in Butterbeer is not high, but some people will choose to add some extra alcohol. The portion of Ian obviously contains extra alcohol.
Only a few beers down.
He was already a little embarrassed.
When I was a god of learning in my previous life, I never drank alcohol.
He has encountered it in this life.
"Does it taste good?"
A ghost came over with great envy and a curious look on his face. He probably died in an era when Butterbeer had not yet been invented, so he could not imagine the taste of many foods of later generations.
"It tastes 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 glass in front of the ghost.
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 gnawed on the chicken legs and made an extremely exaggerated expression of enjoyment. This was the scheming of the little wizard, and it really made all the ghosts look so envious that their eyes almost fell out.
"It's good to be alive."
A gluttonous ghost groaned.
"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.
Moreover, it was his face that was held up.
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 playing with the skeleton.
"Hey, if they want to see some band, let's come and see it."
The blushing Ian poured out. I don't know if it was Voldemort's grandpa or grandma, or maybe a cousin. He took out his magic wand and randomly created a Gaunt Band.
"Revenant Resurrection!"
The magic of Ian was successfully cast, and immediately the family members of Tom, Riddle stood up together and really started dancing at the banquet of ghosts.
"Get high! This is called music and dance!" Ian may have resurrected Voldemort's seven aunts and eight grandma, and a group of skeletons began to imitate Michael Jackson under his control.
"..."
Helena·Ravenclaw looked at a group of resurrected skeletons with a complicated expression. She knew that she was obviously over-worrying. This was not because the ghosts might lead the little wizards astray. What she should be worried about was whether the little wizards might lead the ghosts astray! How could anyone learn [Corpse Control Curse] to this extent in the first grade?
Dozens of skeletons!
Are you planning to form an army of the undead after graduation?
The moon is obscured by dark clouds.
Hogwarts is having a unique singing and dancing performance.
And the other side.
The dilapidated Gaunt Shack once again welcomed two visitors. A bearded man and a long-haired woman walked along the overgrown mountain road to the house where Ian and Grindelwald left. Along the way, several Muggle that had been restored to factory settings were already awake, but they were all screaming like babies in the cold wind.
Several rays of green light shot away, and those Muggle who had evil intentions towards the wizard fell to the ground. After being rejuvenated for a while, they truly fell into a peaceful sleep like a baby.
The two wizards didn't even glance at the corpses of Muggle, and walked straight to the door of Gaunt Shack. When they found that all the protective magic had failed, their expressions changed drastically.
"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 stuff 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.
"No more!"
The woman rummaged through the entire room, kicked down a table in a fit of incompetence and fury, and searched again for a while without giving up, but still found nothing in the not-so-big 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 rummage through it in a destructive manner.
"You Ministry of Magic stinky pen! 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 Dark Lord's things! I want to catch this guy and kill him!"
Compared to the woman who appeared hysterical because of fear, although the bearded man was also full of fear, he was at least able to maintain basic sanity.
"Don't panic. The owner asked us to find his things because he knew something happened 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 cares about whether we have made mistakes? Don't forget who he is! He is the extremely powerful Dark Lord! As long as we let him down! We will be punished! Have you forgotten the high standards he has placed on us in these years?"
As soon as these words came out.
The bearded man became silent.
The quiet atmosphere was except for the chirping of insects outside the house.
"It must be Dumbledore! Or those scoundrels from Dumbledore!" 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 with him, 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.
"Today Gringotts lost something. It is said that it was what those Acolytes broke in and did. Dumbledore not long ago reported to 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 anyone who can fight against Dumbledore. His old enemy Grindelwald has taken action. Apparently he is unwilling to remain trapped in prison."
"Perhaps what Dumbledore lost is some kind of contract that he used to trap Grindelwald? If Acolytess find this contract for their boss..." The bearded man looked outside the window. The visibility was very low in the dark cloudy night, but he didn't want 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. Facing the woman's gaze, he took out a Portkey.
"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, oh... just stay here and wait for me." With that said, the bearded man activated the Portkey in his hand.
His figure disappeared in Gaunt Shack.
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, and his eyes seemed to show a bit of displeasure.
"Don't you know this is my Gellert. Grindelwald hiding place? 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 frightened.
However.
He still stuffed something into the room after looking around.
"My master has asked me to bring you his greetings."
That's a brand new wand.
(End of chapter)