bookbashuk Chapter 249 Sand and gravel on the face
Chapter 249 Sand and gravel on the face
Chapter 249 Sand and gravel on the face
As if also feeling sorry for Dumbledore's life, the lake water rippled gently.
Ripples lapped against the shore, gently washing over the stone bench where Harry sat, wetting it with the last faint splash of water before sadly receding back into the water.
Harry, however, couldn't bear to hear Dumbledore's assessment of him and immediately objected: "Everyone knows you are Voldemort's greatest fear. Perhaps you believe that Voldemort made a mistake because of your failure to teach him properly. But in everyone's eyes, you are the greatest savior. Without you, the wizarding world would be plunged into despair."
He carefully analyzed the scenario he believed Dumbledore didn't exist, and then said to Dumbledore with great certainty, "Blood, slaughter, horror, and death will engulf the entire wizarding world. All non-pure-blood wizards will become slaves, devoid of human rights. This tragic scene will continue at least until after Sir Ryan's birth. But the relatively peaceful world we experience is what you have left behind."
"I don't know much about the history of what you call 'for the greater good,' but you still stopped your friends, which is also making amends for the mistake. It's also getting the world back on track. Principal, I believe you are not without anything; you possess the past and you possess the future."
Harry said.
Dumbledore smiled.
In the first half of his life, he faced betrayal from relatives and friends, and his students became possessed by evil spirits; the magic of love did not favor him.
But in the latter half of his life, the magic of love finally responded to his faith, and Harry before him was the best example, which was enough to comfort him as an educator.
It's not that Ryan wasn't a good student.
Rather, it was because Ryan was too fixated on the power of magic itself; he questioned and did not believe in the magic of love, even though he was consciously or unconsciously practicing it.
For example, his heartfelt respect for professors, his trust in his teachers, his care for his friends and classmates, and his gradual beginning to care for a certain group, which is now striving to care for the entire wizarding community.
These are all manifestations of love.
However, Ryan has always denied this, claiming that the essence of magic and the essence of magical power are the driving forces that have propelled him to where he is today.
The little emo feeling in his heart vanished, and Dumbledore smiled and said, "I made amends for what I thought were my mistakes, so that the world thinks I have done well, is willing to believe in me, and is willing to support me. This is also why I believe that as we wait here, Slughorn will definitely open the door for us—my old colleague of mine is a noble wizard of great understanding and righteousness."
Before the words had even finished, the ripples on the lake surface became increasingly rapid.
After Harry and Dumbledore finished their conversation and fell into a brief silence, the ripples on the lake had already spread into small waterspouts.
During this process, no water droplets fell outside. The water droplets swirled around the water jet, as if defying centrifugal force, and there was no splashing everywhere.
The streams of water, pieced together, were gradually smoothed out, forming a water gate. The sunlight reflected off the scattered water around Meng Fei, creating a rainbow bridge that stood firmly between the gate in the lake and the two people on the lakeside.
"It seems the owner here has finally welcomed us."
Dumbledore stepped onto the Rainbow Bridge.
Harry followed closely behind, carefully stepping onto the rainbow and bending down to press his hand against it.
His little head was filled with big questions. Could this thing, which felt like cotton candy, really support the weight of two people?
Isn't a rainbow light? Can light be materialized and someone stand on it?
Filled with doubt, he watched as Dumbledore pushed open the water door, behind which lay a magnificent palace—if not told that this was the ancestral home of the Slughorn family, Harry would definitely think it was a palace.
A fat old man with short silver hair and a silver beard stood at the door to greet them, looking very unhappy.
Harry noticed that the old man's eyes bulged out, wondering if it was because he didn't want to see them or because it was his natural feature.
Just as he was sizing up Mr. Slughorn, the plump old man suddenly smiled at him: "Dear Harry, you are just as wonderful as your mother."
He knew my mother—Harry suddenly thought of Dumbledore's old colleague, Snape's professor, who seemed perfectly suited to be his parents' Potions professor!
He became excited and wanted to hear more about his parents from the old man; it was a child's longing for his parents.
As Harry entered the Slughorn house with Dumbledore, he eagerly asked before even sitting down, "Mr. Slughorn, do you know my mother?"
"Do you recognize my master?"
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"I don't think I know him."
Ryan, wand in hand, confronted the black-robed wizard who had spoken.
After suppressing the flames and black smoke, he rushed into Gringotts. Apart from the goblins groaning on the ground, which was as he expected, everything else was beyond his expectations.
The most unexpected thing was that someone seemed to have anticipated his arrival. The wizard in front of him, completely shrouded in black robes, was holding a sign that read, "Welcome, Mr. Ryan Wales."
.
What an outrageous and arrogant declaration of war!
Even when the black-robed wizard saw Ryan rush in, he calmly greeted him!
"You seem to have known I was coming."
"My master said that your arrival was inevitable, and we were bound to meet." Only the lower half of the black-robed wizard's face was vaguely visible, and his eyes and expression were not discernible.
Ryan sneered, "Where did this riddle teller come from? All this mystical talk and charlatanry, he's obviously no good!"
Having briefly forgotten his own origins, he openly waved a spell, shouting as he collapsed unconscious, and a beam of red light shot straight toward the black-robed man's face.
Secretly, he used the methods of casting spells without a staff and silent incantations to summon a strong wind mixed with sand and stones using flying sand and hurricane spells.
The first ray of red light that greeted them made the men in black robes cautious. They knew that Ryan's strength was not to be underestimated. Before they set off, their master had given them a serious warning: be careful of Ryan.
However, after he concentrated his greatest attention and used his strongest spell to crush the red light with overwhelming force, he realized something was wrong—Lyon's spell was definitely not that weak.
In his original estimate, even if he could defeat the red light with all his might, he would at most be evenly matched, and there would be no way he could gain the upper hand.
wrong!
The man in the black robe felt his heart leap into his throat again, his slightly relaxed expression tightening once more, before he was hit in the face by a swarm of sand and gravel.
No talk of force — France and Germany!
Where is the composure of a master?!
The man in the black robe had his hat blown off, sand got into his eyes, and he couldn't see anything.
He wanted to let out a desperate roar, but his throat was choked with sand again.
"Hilarious! What kind of expert can't even spread lime properly?!"