Harry Potter and the Secret Treasures

In the dark, Dumbledore pushed open the front door and hurriedly walked up the path in the garden.

Evan, Harry, and Hermione hurriedly followed, followed.

In front, Dumbledore slowly pushed open the front door, holding his wand in his hand, ready to attack.

"Fluorescent!" The top of her wand lit up, reflecting a narrow porch with an open door to the left.

Dumbledore lifted his bright wand and walked into the living room.

It was a mess in front of me, and it seems that I had just experienced a fierce battle not long ago.

A master clock broke at their feet, the clock face cracked, the pendulum lay a little further away, like an abandoned sword, at the end of the living room, a piano fell to the ground, the keys scattered around, near There was also a glimpse of the broken chandeliers, and the mats were thrown in a mess. The feathers were smashed out of the cracks, and the broken glass and broken porcelain spilled like a powder.

Dumbledore lifted his wand a little higher and illuminated the wall.

It can be seen that there are many dark red sticky things on the wallpaper, which are blood stains.

Evan looked around, his wand lifted high, and the Slaghorn figure in the ruins.

Hermione stood behind him, her body was shaking slightly because of tension.

Harry sighed in a low voice and seemed to be scared by the picture in front of him. Dumbledore heard it and looked around.

"Not too good-looking, isn't it?" he said heavily. "There was a terrorist incident here."

Dumbledore walked carefully into the middle of the room and carefully observed the broken pieces at the foot.

"Is it a Death Eater?"

"It must be them, Hermione, maybe there was a fight. Later, they dragged him away, didn't they, Professor?" Harry guessed, trying not to imagine how serious a person was hurt. Only those blood spots will be splashed on the height of the wall.

"I don't think so." Dumbledore said quietly, looking behind the bulging armchair that fell over the floor, "Ivan, what do you think?"

"There is no black magic mark outside the house. This is very unusual, unlike the style of the Death Eaters." Ai Wen said, he sighed hard. "And there seems to be alcohol in the air, but I don't see it." The wine glass or the bottle, the attacker is not taking this thing, maybe the person we are looking for is still here."

"Ivan, you mean him..."

"Yeah, still here, it must be."

"How is it possible, where is he?"

"Not sure yet!" said Ai Wen, the light of the wand became stronger again.

He must admit that Slughorn is well hidden.

Ivan didn't find anything unusual. He could be sure that the other person was here, but couldn't remember how Slughorn was hiding his body and couldn't find each other. Of course, if he allowed Evan to use the spell to destroy the living room twice, he would be sure to force Slughorn in a second.

"It's still here, yes, I think so."

When it was said that it was too late, Dumbledore suddenly shot and put the wand into the cushion of the bulging armchair. The chair made a scream: "Hey!"

"Good evening, Horace." Dumbledore said, standing up again, "I haven't seen you for a long time."

Harry hurriedly turned his head and opened his mouth in surprise, and Avon and Hermione looked at it with surprise.

Just an armchair, but between the blink of an eye, it turned into a bald fat old man lying there.

He stared at his little belly and picked up a painful, tearful eye and looked at Dumbledore.

"You don't have to be so embarrassed." He gasped and said, struggling to climb up. "It hurts me."

The wand illuminates his bright bald head, the bulging eyes, the walrus-like silver-white beard, and the shiny buttons on the brown-purple velvet clothes outside his lilac pajamas. His head is not high. Only the head of Dumbledore was on the top of the head.

"So, is that **** black demon mark exposing me?" he said sullenly, standing up still, still holding his little belly, unknowingly looking at Ai Wen, his face It seems to be astonishingly thick, knowing that he just installed an armchair and was seen.

"My dear Horace!" Dumbledore seemed to find it ridiculous. "Ivan is right. If the Death Eaters really came, they would definitely leave a black magic mark over the house."

"I feel that there are still shortcomings..." He muttered, seemingly not very convinced. "Oh, yes, but it's too late. I just adjusted the seat cover, you just entered the house, I don't have time." ”

“There is a touch of alcohol,” added Ai Wen. “But I didn’t see the bottle, it’s unusual.”

"Are you a cat? Kid, can you smell it?" Slughorn looked at Avon for a long time, sighed heavily and blew the two beard tips up. "Yes. Ah, yes, I just had a drink, it was an oak aged wine, I only had the last bottle, I was not willing to dump it."

"Well, Horace, would you like me to clean up for you?" Dumbledore asked politely.

"Please, please," he said bluntly.

The next second, they stood up to back.

One tall and thin, one short and fat, the two men stepped and waved their wand unexpectedly.

The piece of furniture jumped back to its original position, the ornament restored its original shape in midair, the feather was re-drilled back into the cushion, the damaged book was automatically repaired, neatly arranged on the shelf, and the oil lamp flew to the wall. On the small table, it was re-lighted. A lot of broken silver frame flickered and flew to the end of the room. It fell on a writing desk and became bright and new. The room was damaged, torn and open. The places that opened were restored as ever.

The smudges on the wall were also wiped clean as if they had not been stained with blood.

"By the way, what blood is that?" Dumbledore asked, his voice overshadowing the pendulum of the newly-built master clock.

"Do you mean the wall? It is the dragon blood." The other party shouted and replied.

At this time, the chandelier automatically jumped back to the ceiling, and the sound of Ding Ding Ding Ding was deafening.

As the piano finally rang out, the room was quiet.

"Yeah, Albus, fire dragon blood!" The wizard said very strongly, and finally shook his wand. "You reminded me, this is the last bottle I have collected. The price on the market is currently prohibitively expensive. However, Maybe still use, don't waste."

He took a heavy footstep to the side of the sideboard, picked up a small crystal bottle on the top of the cabinet, and looked carefully at the light inside the liquid.

"Well, it's a bit dirty." He put the vial back on the sideboard and sighed.

At this time, his eyes turned back to Avon, Harry and Hermione.

"Albus, at night, you lead these young people to come to me, do you want to party?!"

"Well, I think we have to drink at least one cup." Dumbledore said, "For the past."