HP Approaches the Magical World

Chapter 890 Thank you Yudori for his 20,000 yuan, fl

Jon also met someone.

She is also a woman.

If Helga still exists in this world, she will be an old woman over a thousand years old, older than many people in this world.

But this is not the case.

Because Helga is not a pure person, she is a new god.

Gods always keep their beautiful appearance.

After all, a young **** and an old god, trust is to make choices with their feet.

“So you are here to say goodbye, and listen to what you mean, I am the last one, am I?”

“Important people are always behind. I think you should believe in this.”

“Perhaps I will believe in others, but you have too many spooky ideas, who knows what you are doing?

Besides, the fact that you suddenly came to me to say goodbye is outrageous in itself. Although your strength has grown very fast, with the addition of things like the magic network, it is abnormal that your strength does not grow fast.

But even if this rate of power growth is maintained, you will still have some time to become a demigod. After becoming a demigod, you still have a long way to go before you can become a god, let alone the path you choose. The road to becoming a **** is much harder than it is normal, how can it be so simple to save it? ”

“Ancestor, you still have too little knowledge. Some strange things have happened to me. I can’t explain these things to you and I can’t explain them to you, so I don’t know when I might be able to leave. In order to save time, I still It’s better to plan to explain everything here first, lest I leave suddenly, and the things here are still unfinished. What if the world can’t be on the right track because of my departure, and the world is destroyed in the end? ”

Helga: “…”

She really didn’t want to hit Jon’s self-confidence, but how could a world be destroyed so easily?

Isn’t it outrageous?

But this kind of self-confidence is not a bad thing, anyway, Helga doesn’t care, it’s all Jon’s own business, anyway, it’s a good thing for a child to have this kind of self-confidence.

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“Do you have anything else? If there is nothing else, go back quickly. The child has grown up and is not cute anymore. I am a little angry when I look at you now.”

“…” Jon said helplessly: “Well, anyway, I have already said everything that should be said, I will go first.”

It was already night when I came out, and the manor was very quiet. Blair was reading in the room. His parents did not live here, but lived in the Yang Family Manor with his two younger brothers.

My grandmother is old, she likes to be lively, and she also likes children.

Blair is not young anymore.

In two more years, she will enter Hogwarts to study, and at the same time begin to inherit the grace of Helga left in the world. This is destined to be a bright road, but no matter how bright there is, there will eventually be some bumps on the road.

Hope that she can go on safely and smoothly.

Although the time spent with myself is not particularly long, this child is his sister after all.

“Brother, are you still asleep?”

Little Blair walked out of the room with a cup in his hand.

“Yeah, brother is still busy, what are you going to do?”

“It’s time for me to go to bed and go down to pick up a glass of milk. Uncle Kaledi and auntie are busy making a new desk, so I have to pick it up by myself.”

Jon smiled, rubbed Blair’s hair, and took the cup in the little girl’s hand.

“Brother takes you to pour milk.”

He took Blair’s hand and walked down the stairs step by step.

In fact, this kind of day is also very good. You don’t have to worry about the messy things, and you don’t have to worry about the problems that may arise at any time.

However, it is a pity that he can’t live such a life.

“Blair.”

“Ok?”

“If your brother leaves, would you miss your brother?”

“Of course I miss my brother.”

The little girl said gruffly, “But why did my brother leave?”

“Because… I have to do things my brother has to do, but my brother will miss Blair too.”

He came to the kitchen to pour milk, then sent Blair back to the room, told Blair a story to make her fall asleep, and then came to the garden.

It’s another winter.

But with the existence of the constant temperature magic circle, the garden is still as warm as spring.

That’s good.

…

Maybe this is not good at all.

Standing in the cold wind and snow, Hermione looked at the figure in front of him and finally confirmed that this person was the one she was looking for.

Because of that smell, it appeared again.

Harry had another feeling. He had a novel feeling. Looking at this man, there was no need for Hermione to pinch his arm. The possibility that this woman was a Muggle was almost zero: she stood there staring at a non A house completely invisible to the wizard.

But even if she was a witch, it was strange enough that she ran out on such a cold night just to see the ruins of an old house.

Moreover, according to magical conventions, she shouldn’t see him and Hermione at all.

Harry had a very strange feeling, as if she knew they were here and knew who they were.

Just as he reached this disturbing conclusion, the woman raised a gloved hand and beckoned.

Hermione leaned against Harry under the invisibility cloak, his arm pressed against his arm.

“How does she know?”

He shook his head, saying that he didn’t know.

But in fact, Hermione knew that there were special traces of magic on her body, left by Jon, so that the woman could confirm her identity.

So now this situation is in her expectation.

It’s just that she can’t show it.

The woman beckoned more vigorously.

Harry could think of many reasons not to heed the call, but as the two sides looked at each other on the empty street, his guesses about her identity grew stronger.

Will she have been waiting for them these months?

Did Dumbledore tell her to wait here, saying that Harry will come one day?

Could it be that she peeped secretly in the cemetery, and followed here again?

And she could feel them, which reminded him of some Dumbledore-style mana that he had never seen before.

Finally, Harry spoke, and Hermione was startled.

“Are you Bathilda?”

The tightly bound figure nodded and beckoned again.

Under the invisibility cloak, Harry and Hermione looked at each other, Harry raised his eyebrows, and Hermione nodded nervously.

The two walked towards the woman, and she immediately turned around, stumbling back and forth along the path, and after passing several houses, she turned to a door.

They followed her down the path, through a garden almost as deserted as the one before.

She fumbled for a while on the front door with the key, opened the door, and stepped aside to let them in.

The smell on her was terrible, or her room: Harry wrinkled his nose when they walked sideways into the door and took off the invisibility cloak.

He stood next to her and found that she was so small, she was too old, and she had just reached his chest.

She closed the door, her bruised knuckles lined with the peeling paint, and then turned to stare at Harry’s face, her eyes sunken in the clear skin folds with thick cataracts inside.

Her face was covered with intermittent blood vessels and elderly classes.

He wondered if the old lady could see clearly, and even if she could, he would only see the bald Muggle that he pretended to be.

The smell of old musty, dust, dirty clothes, and spoiled food became stronger. She unwrapped the moldy black turban, revealing a head with sparse white hair and clearly visible hair.

“Bahida?”

She nodded again.

Harry felt the locket stick to his skin, and the sometimes ticking or lightly beating thing inside woke up, and he could feel it beating in the cold golden shell.

Does it know, does it feel that the thing that can destroy it is nearby?

Bathilda hobbled past them, squeezing Hermione aside as if she didn’t see her, and walked into a room that looked like a living room.

“Harry, I’m not sure.”

When the matter came, Hermione was still nervous after all. In case, she remembered Jon’s instructions, if only that person gave a signal, she would just do it, and nothing else.

But attacking an old lady still makes her feel a little dangerous-of course, she knows, because Jon said that Bathilda has been dead for a while.

“Look at her size, if it doesn’t work, I think we can subdue her.”

Harry said: “By the way, I should tell you, I know she is not normal, and Muriel said she is old ‘confused’.”

“come!”

In Harry’s ear, Bathilda yelled from next door.

Hermione jumped for a moment, because she didn’t hear a human voice, but she didn’t say anything, just grabbed Harry by the arm.

If it doesn’t work, just apparate directly.

“It’s okay.”

Harry comforted, and walked into the living room.

Bathilda limped around to light candles, but the room was still dim, let alone how dirty it was.

Thick dust puffed under their feet, and Harry’s nose smelled more disgusting under the musty smell, like rotten flesh.

He thought, he didn’t know when the last time someone walked into Bathilda’s house to see if she was still alive.

She seems to have forgotten that she can use magic, awkwardly lighting a candle with her hand, and the lace on her sleeve is in danger of catching fire at any time.

“Let me do it.”

Harry said, taking the match from her.

She stood there watching him lighting the candles everywhere in the house. They stood on small plates, dangerously against a pile of books or a small table full of moldy broken cups.

The last place Harry saw candles was a bow-shaped chest of drawers with many photos on it.

After the flame jumped, the reflection flashed in the gray glass and silver frame.

He saw something faintly moving in the photo.

When Bathilda fumbled to move the wood to make a fire, he said softly, “The whirlwind swept away.”

The dust disappeared from the photos, and he immediately saw that six or seven photos were missing. They were in the tallest and most magnificent frame. I don’t know if Bathilda or someone else took them.

At this time, a photo at the back attracted his attention, and he picked it up.

It was the brilliant blond thief in the dream, the young man perched on Grigovich’s window sill, smiling lazily at Harry in the silver frame.

Harry immediately remembered where he had seen this young man: in “Dumbledore’s Life and Lies” arm with young Dumbledore.

The other missing photos must be there too: in Rita’s book.

“Mrs. Bagshot-madam?”

He asked, his voice trembling slightly: “Who is this?”

Bathilda stood in the middle of the room, watching Hermione help her light a fire.

“Ms. Bagshot?”

Harry yelled again and walked over with the frame in his hand, flames rising from the fireplace.

Bathilda raised his head when he heard his voice, and the Horcrux jumped faster on his chest.

“Who is this guy?”

Harry asked her, handing over the photo.

She looked seriously for a while, then looked up at Harry.

“Do you know who this is?”

He asked again, his voice much slower and louder than usual: “This person? Do you know him? What is his name?”

Bathilda looked blank.

Harry felt very depressed. How did Rita Skeeter open up Bathilda’s memory?

“Who is this guy?”

“Harry, what are you doing?”

“This picture, Hermione, is the thief, the thief from the Grigovichs! Please tell us!”

He said to Bathilda, “Who is this?”

She just stared at him blankly.

“Why did you call us here, Mrs. Bagshot-madam?”

Hermione blinked and raised her voice: “Do you want to tell us anything?”

Bathilda didn’t seem to hear Hermione speaking, and staggered a few steps towards Harry, swinging her head slightly, looking at the aisle outside.

“Do you want us out?”

She repeated the action, pointing at him, then at herself, and then at the ceiling.

“Oh, okay… Hermione, I think she wants me to go upstairs with her.”

“Okay,” Hermione said, “Let’s go.”