novelcrest Chapter 563 I will personally handle your report
Chapter 563 I will personally handle your report
Chapter 559 I will personally handle your report
Walking through the narrow alleys of Knockturn Alley, Sean recalled his conversation with Dumbledore.
To be honest, this feeling is not good.
Especially when Sean was sitting in his room after Harry's birthday party last night, he heard a knock on the door and assumed it was a witch coming to make friends with him. But when he opened the door, it was an old man with a wrinkled face.
This feeling is really awful, from the clouds to the sea.
"What do you want with me, Professor Dumbledore?"
I want to talk to you about something.
When Dumbledore walked straight into the room, closed the door, and cast a soundproofing spell, Sean knew that the conversation was not as simple as he had thought.
really-
"Phillips, I'd like to ask you a few things."
Explain? They're even using that kind of vocabulary?
"Please speak," Sean said cautiously.
"I'd like to ask you two favors for the new semester."
Dumbledore stared into Sean's eyes and began to recount what he knew.
One of them is the suspicion surrounding Voldemort's Horcruxes.
Sean feigned surprise when he heard that Voldemort possessed several Horcruxes.
Dumbledore also gave Sean time to process the "secret".
In general—
He hoped that when Sean taught Harry Closets, he would show Harry some memories so that Harry could find the remaining Horcruxes based on his feelings.
"I've found you a Potions professor, Horace Slughorn. He has memories of Voldemort, and I need Harry to confirm these memories in order to determine the exact number of Horcruxes."
"I haven't told Slughorn about this yet."
"So I need you to go and persuade Slughorn to teach Potions in the coming days."
"After all, one"
"Now that you are the principal, you are qualified to issue appointment letters to professors."
Dumbledore winked playfully.
Sean's feelings were somewhat—how to put it? To be specific, somewhat complicated.
Dumbledore is somewhat of a controlling person.
Even after stepping down, the university's professors still need to be reassigned.
But the only touching thing is that he considered his own feelings as the headmaster and entrusted the task of hiring Slughorn to him—of course, this may also be the reason why he himself was too lazy to go to Slughorn.
"And what about Snape?" Sean suddenly asked.
"Snape, this is the second thing," Dumbledore said, sitting down abruptly. "Would you like a hot cup of honey lemon tea?"
There is nothing wrong with that.
That's why Sean felt something was missing earlier.
Discussing such important matters feels incomplete without enjoying a delicious honey lemon black tea.
Two cups of tea were brewed, and the two people sat facing each other.
"I think Voldemort won't let this go—especially given the strong connection between Harry and him—he'll most likely choose Hogwarts as his entry point."
"As long as Harry is not eliminated, his obsession cannot be put down."
"Therefore, I need you to focus your attention primarily on Hogwarts."
"But Snape's identity is special."
"He could very well be the key—I trust him completely. I know you two don't get along, but I hope you trust him as much as I do—as for his future plans, he has applied to me for the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts professor many times."
"I think—why not have Tonks and Snape both serve as professors of Defense Against the Dark Arts?"
Just like you and Quirrell back then.
Dumbledore sighed and said, half-jokingly.
"The fact that Voldemort cursed the Defense Against the Dark Arts position is not without reason—back then, I sought out many wizards who were well-versed in this field to try to break the curse, but all of them failed. The year you became the professor, however, was an exception."
"Look at yourself now, why aren't you sitting here properly?"
There were faint black lines floating on Sean's forehead.
As one of the parties involved, the joke wasn't as funny as Dumbledore thought.
"so-
'
"I think it's a good idea to have two people serve as Defense Against the Dark Arts professors to share the burden of the curse, both for Snape and for — Tonks."
"I'd love to be your and Tonks's best man someday."
It's hard to refuse when things have gone this far.
However, Sean was somewhat interested in Dumbledore being the officiant at the wedding.
Just imagining Dumbledore's expression when he sees his list of brides is enough to make one laugh.
"Not only that, I also hope you—"
"6
'
Dumbledore muttered a lot, sounding as if he were giving his final instructions.
Perhaps he himself foresaw his own end.
The tea was refilled seven times, and the moon hung high in the sky, gradually disappearing into the horizon.
The conversation then came to an end.
Before leaving, Dumbledore gave him a piece of advice.
"If there's anything about Horcruxes, let's keep in touch. I'll be searching for clues about Horcruxes all over the place this semester and destroying them. Good luck—Phillips."
Business in Flip-Flop Alley wasn't much better than in Diagon Alley.
However, according to statistics...
A tree diagram showing the daily transaction volume of the two shopping streets reveals a surprising fact: the decline in customers at Knockturn Alley is not as dramatic as that at Diagon Alley.
Sometimes, you can't find self-defense items in Diagon Alley, but you can make a big purchase in Knockturn Alley.
When Sean was halfway there, he saw Malfoy walk out of the Borginburg store and leave in a hurry.
The owner of Bokinbock Store. An old friend.
Did he still remember him? Sean wondered, then pulled out a black face mask he hadn't used in a long time from his coat and put it on.
remember.
This is what Bokin saw in Sean's reply.
Even though this person wearing a black mask is a bit rounder than he was a few years ago, his repulsive aura is still unmistakable, even if he were reduced to ashes.
"W-What are you doing here?"
"have not seen you for a long time."
"I want to take over this shop."
"impossible!"
Sean clapped his hands, and suddenly, a large number of black-hooded men appeared in Bojin's store.
"Excuse me, I didn't hear you clearly. Could you repeat it?"
When surrounded by dozens of wands, Borgin calmed down.
He felt that he had rarely been so calm in his relatively short life.
"I mean, I can think about it."
"If Mr. Bokin doesn't want to sell this shop, that's fine too. It's family property—I understand, and I won't force him."
Looking around at the restless dark wizards.
Bokin has a completely new understanding of the idiom "to force someone to do something they cannot do".
If this isn't considered asking someone to do something against their will, then what is?
"I'd like to make a deal with Mr. Bokin."
"Britain is too dangerous now. In order to protect the intangible cultural heritage of the Burkin family from being destroyed during the impending war, and in order for the culture to continue to be passed down, I hope Mr. Burkin can rent this shop to us."
"We will pay you a considerable sum of Galleons, Mr. Borkin, so you can use those Galleons to travel. However, I have a few conditions that I hope you will cooperate with."
"You say it," Bokin said, looking at Sean, speaking from the heart.
Sean held up three fingers and slowly began to speak.
After a friendly exchange with Mr. Borkin, the owner of Borkinborough Shop, a contract was drawn up with the goal of protecting the "intangible cultural heritage of black magic".
The two parties agreed that:
Borgin will temporarily serve as an advisor for the invention and research of dark magic items.
During the war, the Bokin store will be leased.
Borgin will leave behind a large amount of ingredients for compound potions and, based on his own characteristics, will cultivate several "Mr. Borgin" to maintain the basic operation of Borginbork's shop.
After doing all this, Sean prepared to fulfill the promise he made to Dumbledore the night before.
Go find Horace Slughorn.
Slughorn lived in a village called Badley Barberton.
The village is small, similar to many Muggle villages.
Small but complete.
On both sides are rows of houses, and in the distance are churches, flower shops, and pharmacies.
Following the address Slughorn registered on the wizard census system, Sean entered a neat little stone house nestled in a garden.
It was afternoon, but the place didn't seem very lively.
That is indeed the case.
Upon entering the house and reaching the living room, I was greeted by a scene of utter chaos.
An old-fashioned grandfather clock shattered at his feet, its face cracked, and its pendulum rolled to the ground a short distance away, lying next to a piano, its keys scattered like flying bones.
Nearby, broken chandelier fragments lay on the floor, and cushions were scattered haphazardly, already deflated and tattered, with messy feathers peeking out from the cracks.
"It looks like a terrible thing happened here."
Sean muttered to himself, and as he was about to leave, he suddenly drew his wand and pointed it at the chair in the corner.
"Disarm you!"
The chair let out a scream.
"Ouch!"
"Good evening, Mr. Slughorn. I am Sean Phillips, you should know me."
Sean bowed slightly and introduced himself elegantly.
"How did I give myself away?"
In the blink of an eye, the chair transformed into a disgusting, bald, fat old man.
"Transfiguration is good, but mine is better."
Sean's words were concise, but they earned him a glare from Slughorn.
"Then you should have told me, instead of just using a disarming spell!"
"What if they're Death Eaters disguised here?"
"If they are Death Eaters, they will have the Dark Mark."
"Oh, I'll be more careful next time. Would you like me to clean the living room for you?"
Sean spoke very perfunctorily, then raised his wand again.
One by one, the furniture pieces jumped back into their original positions, the decorations spun in mid-air and returned to their original shapes, and the scattered feathers all crawled back into the deflated cushions, which then puffed up and became as good as new.
It's as if time has turned back.
"I don't think you came all this way just to do my housework, did you?"
That's right.
Sean and Slughorn sat facing each other in chairs, each making themselves a cup of tea with the cup next to them, but Slughorn didn't seem to like drinking tea.
"I've come here to invite you to take up the post of Professor of Potions at Hogwarts."
Slughorn's face turned ugly.
The hand that had originally intended to try the tea silently pushed the teacup back to the center of the table.
"impossible."
This sentence sounded familiar; Sean had heard someone say it in the same tone a few hours ago.
"But isn't that the case?"
Seeing Sean's confident demeanor, Slughorn tried to appeal to his emotions.
His eyes were brimming with tears, like a pitiful old man.
"Principal Phillips, you know I'm old. By Muggle standards, I should have retired long ago and enjoyed a peaceful retirement."
Sean shook his head, his expression suggestive.
"That's hard to say for sure. As far as I know, there are countries in the East that have been delaying the retirement age. At your age, it's precisely the time to shine and contribute to society."
Slughorn said, his face ashen.
"But this is in Britain, on the British Isles, where such absurd things don't happen."
"But who can say for sure?"
Sean shook his head and pointed to the furniture in the room.
"In my opinion, Mr. Slughorn's abilities are as strong as ever—you must have set up an alarm system in the town, right? To prepare such a clever welcome scene in just three minutes is something most young people couldn't do."
"Two minutes! I was just—"
Slughorn blushed slightly as he defended himself.
"Anyway, I have the right to decide my own life, rather than becoming a professor at Hogwarts."
"This is not a notification, it's an order." Sean shook his head slightly.
Slughorn was so angry that he laughed and even stood up.
"What right do you have to order me around?"
Sean didn't say anything, but simply took out a document and pushed it in front of Slughorn.
"The person speaking to you now is not Principal Phillips."
"Let me formally introduce myself. I am the Director of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and a Senior Investigator at the Ministry of Magic."
"You can call me Director Phillips."
"This is a conscription order."
"Unfortunately, according to the Ministry of Magic's wartime laws, every citizen of the British wizarding community has a responsibility and obligation to assist the Ministry of Magic during wartime."
"And you, Horace Slughorn."
"At the age of 115, he was summoned by the Department of Magical Law Enforcement five minutes ago."
"And as your direct supervisor, Sean Phillips, the first task I'm giving you is—"
He joined Hogwarts as a professor of Potions.
It was never magic that brought down Leifeng Pagoda, but power.
For some stubborn old men, while using force is an option, it is far less appropriate than using power to make them submit.
Slughorn stared dumbfounded at the still-wet ink of the conscription order before him, then suddenly shouted.
"You...you can't do this!"
Sean took a small sip of the tea on the table.
"I'm sorry, Mr. Slughorn, if you have any questions about this conscription notice, you can file a complaint and report with the Department of Magical Law Enforcement at the Ministry of Magic."
"As a matter of concern, I will personally handle your report."
"You know—ordinary people's cases don't even reach my desk as a department head."
Sean's gentle smile seemed like a devil in Slughorn's eyes.
A demon wearing a mask.
This semester—I don't think I'll have an easy time.