"Albus, have you read "The Story of the Poet Bedou"?"

"I've seen it before, why? Gellert, you've been in a panic, wanting to see some profound magic in children's literature?" The auburn-haired, young Albus Dumbledore laughed.

"That's maybe... I found this at Aunt Bathilda's house," the blond boy named Gellert shook the old book in his hand, "the fairy tale book cursed by the poet Bedouin's wife, on There's very strong black magic, and my aunt locked it in a box - and I accidentally took it out..."

"Then you're really careless," Dumbledore leaned closer. "What's the curse on this book? It can turn a bad boy from a fairy tale into a sniff—and honestly, that's not bad."

"Then I'm definitely the best sniff," Gellert laughed, "but unfortunately, it doesn't have such a function, it can only turn the content written by the wizard into fairy tales..."

"Sounds good," said Dumbledore, not very interested, he was old enough to read fairy tales.

"Then," Gellert paused for a while, "it will turn each fairy tale into the most real fantasy, so that those who enter the fantasy will never be able to get out."

"What did you write?"

"War, plague, pathetic muggles, I want to see how it's going to make these stories into fairy tales..."

"Oh," Gellert added, "there's something less important—I keep it as a diary now."

…………

"Headmaster Dumbledore!" Anna grabbed Dumbledore's robe and interrupted the old man's contemplation, "You have been silent for at least five minutes..."

"I'm so sorry," Dumbledore apologized apologetically, stroking the cover of the "Peter the Poet Tales". A dog, a deer, three animals, and a princess who was imprisoned in a high tower.

There is also a familiar symbol on the back of the book, "Just remembered something about this book..."

Anna and Professor Dumbledore came to Godric's Hollow, where Dumbledore lived many years ago. He has not come back for some time. When was the last time? Is it a visit to Ms. Bathilda Bagshot to discuss a little question in "History of Magic"? Or came to the Potters' funeral in 1981?

Aberforth would come back here every year, decorating the cold slate with flowers, as if this would allow her to open her beautiful eyes and come back to see this not-so-beautiful world.

Dumbledore didn't like Godric's Hollow, his once home, his once favorite place, and now only felt the heavy, breathless dampness in the air, this dirty flagstone road, The old streets and the hellish town of wooden and stone buildings that can collapse at any time should be hidden in the fog of history.

"Thank you," Anna took the hot chocolate from a hard-working worker. She and Dumbledore were sitting in a neat little dining room. \'Magic Max\' was the name of the shop.

"It's really nice here," Anna said of Godric's Hollow, with its historic homes, clean streets, and welcoming residents, warm glow from the golden streetlights, and the smell of cake in the air.

Dumbledore couldn't deny it and shrugged, wondering where Anna got such a wrong judgment.

They just used the Muggle Shielding Charm to get the fairy tale book out of the hands of the Muggle police. Dumbledore snapped his fingers, and all the Muggles forgot about the missing boy, and the Psychic Wars program continued to film.

"Headmaster Dumbledore, do you have any clues now?" Anna took a sip of hot chocolate and stuck her tongue out from the heat. "Cough, how did we get Harry out of the book?"

Dumbledore actually has a lot of clues. As long as he finds someone who is locked up in Nurmengard, and asks him how to release the \'accidentally locked in his diary\', things can be solved easily. The key Yes - someone whom Dumbledore hadn't seen in forty-four years, and Dumbledore didn't really want to see him now.

"I don't have a clue for now," Dumbledore's eyes were erratic, and Anna frowned when he saw that, if he knew Legilimency, a glance would float over to Dumbledore's innermost thoughts, leaving him nowhere to escape before him. shape--

Of course, just thinking about it, Anna would not do such a dangerous thing.

"Cough," Dumbledore put down the book and picked up his own hot chocolate, "I still have some clues, this book belongs to Ms. Bathilda Bagshot..."

"Ms. Bathilda Bagshot? The editor of the "History of Magic" textbook?" Anna's eyes lit up, "She also recently wrote a compliment for "How to Hide Your Private Money", saying that it was a book One of the most practical books of the century!"

"Ms. Bagshot has wisdom," Anna concluded, "and she might be able to help us in some way."

It's better to visit a wise old man than to Nurmengard. Dumbledore agreed with Anna's suggestion, "Then let's visit her, she lives..." Dumbledore paused for a second, "Live here nearby…"

…………

It was a two-storey house hidden in a flat building, with a beautiful garden and oddly trimmed plants visible through the hedges - the kind that would make a Muggle child exclaim with joy.

A homemade swing was placed in the courtyard, as if inviting someone to come and play, inexplicably adding a sense of loneliness to this vibrant courtyard.

The goblins were unwilling to live here, so Anna saw several dirty goblin sculptures in the yard with signs hanging on them, \'Welcome goblins here\'.

Dumbledore also found these sculptures, "Looks like we are today's goblins," he pushed open the iron door.

The iron gate that reached the child's knee was hidden, and Anna didn't know what defensive effect it could have. The slightly taller child could break through with a single flip.

Anna shook the swing in the courtyard, she didn't know why she did it, maybe she was too deeply influenced by the red-haired twins.

"Ding ding—" A crisp bell sounded from the room, as if Anna had accidentally triggered some mechanism.

Dumbledore knocked on the door, and suddenly felt that his hand was empty, and the wooden door that looked not very strong was opened almost instantly.

A small old man stood at the door, with sparse white hair. She was wearing a brown vest, fat black breeches, and a clean old robe, holding a silly-looking pumpkin candy box in her hand, "Welcome—"

The old man smiled warmly, the smell of cake wafted out from the open door, chocolate, cream, she could clearly see that the guests at the door were familiar to her, "Oh! Albus!" She patted Dumbledore's arm, "Long time no see!"

"Want a candy?" She held up the pumpkin candy box in her hand and seemed to suddenly remember something, "I almost forgot, your favorite crucible cake I made—good news, it's in the oven! "

"Ms. Bathilda, this is not Halloween," Dumbledore still took out two candies from the pumpkin, turned sideways, and handed one to Anna behind him.

"I know, I'm just always prepared! It's just after Halloween, and I'm afraid some children will think about my charming treat here - kill a carbine!" Bathilda said, "After all, their parents don't prepare faces for them Big pot of chocolate cake!"

Bathilda is a lovely and funny old lady, Anna sneered and took the candy Dumbledore handed over, "Thank you..."

"A little girl!" Bathilda was very happy, she put the huge pumpkin candy box into Anna's hands, squatted down kindly, and tried her best to look at Anna.

In fact, she was about as tall as Anna without crouching. "I haven't seen you, child," she completely put Dumbledore aside.

"My name is Anna Lawrence, ma'am, and I'm currently working on a difficult issue with Headmaster Dumbledore," Anna's polite introduction made Bathilda laugh.

"Hope I can help you guys with any tough problems..."

Dumbledore took out the "Peter Poetry Tales" and successfully made the lovely Lady Bathilda smile on her face.

Ugh?

Isn't this thing locked in the attic of my house? Bathilda stood up and took the book of stories with a puzzled face.

"Uh... this seems to be my thing... um," Bathilda flipped the book over and over, her wrinkled hands ran across the cover, and put the book in front of her nose and took a hard breath, her expression Confused, "It's really mine...Merlin's beard...but I always thought it was locked in the attic..."

"It really should be in your attic, if nothing unexpected happens," Dumbledore mulled his words.

Bathilda had a bad premonition, and the little old lady scratched her head, "It didn't do anything bad, did it? It didn't have any bad effect..." The probability of bad things happening is very high~lightnovelpub.net~ After all Dumbledore himself came to the door...

"It's nothing, just someone wrote a diary in it," Dumbledore looked at his toes.

Bathilda breathed a sigh of relief, "That's why it hasn't had any bad effects..."

Dumbledore interrupted Bathilda's words with a cough, and suddenly mentioned a topic that seemed very jumpy to Bathilda, "Do you remember the Potter family who lived near here?"

"Of course I do! Who will forget, even if everyone forgets I still remember - Lily raved about my cauldron tarts and invited me to Harry Potter's birthday tea!"

Bathilda was very excited, "I will never forget that lovely meatball!"

"That lovely meatball is trapped in this book."

"What?" Bathilda didn't catch it, maybe she did, but she couldn't believe it.

"Harry Potter is trapped in a book."