Chapter 288 Has Slytherin Ever Been a Headmaster?

"I think, I need to...clean now."

Dumbledore's expression was a little nervous. He stood up, walked to the closet against the wall, opened the closet, and there was an ancient washbasin stand inside, and an empty Pensieve was placed in the closet. He raised his wand and uttered a spell: "Clear water is like a spring."

Clear water flowed from the tip of the staff and fell into the basin, where he washed his hands in the Pensieve.

"Professor, what is this?" Nelson stood up in confusion.

"For one of the great wizards who founded Hogwarts, we should have enough respect," Dumbledore carefully washed his hands in the basin, let them dry naturally in the air, and walked back to the desk , Gently tugging on the bow that has been around for thousands of years, "Look, Nelson, good things can often stand the test of time, such as this easy-to-open knot."

The portraits of the headmasters behind Dumbledore made a voice of approval. Before Dumbledore opened the oil paper, they took the time to straighten their collars, trying to make a good impression on Salazar Slytherin.

Nelson's expression was a bit strange. In fact, he was the one who tied the knot. The string originally used to bind the oiled paper had been corrupted by time. This string was pulled out of the chair cover in the lounge.

"Albus, why don't you wait first," Phineas yelled, "I feel that my gold brooch has faded a lot, it looks like a piece of cheap copper, can you give me some gold dust first .”

"Phineas, if you put this energy into running the school, I don't think you will be rated as 'the most unpopular principal ever'," said the female principal beside him, Dai Lisi Devant, holding a A thick and long wand like a cane seemed to rush into Phineas's picture frame and hit him, "When Head Slytherin comes, I must tell him how he ruined his school and his house !"

"Dalice, don't talk nonsense," Phineas quickly waved his hands, huddled in the corner of the photo frame and fiddled with his collar. "When I was in office, the school's teaching quality improved a lot!"

The two principals soon fell into a debate about "what is more important between students' likes and students' grades",

"Wait, what should we call Salazar Slytherin?" A headmaster in the corner interrupted the dispute between the two and asked, and it took a second for the headmaster's office to become quiet, His name is Quentin Trimble, a gloomy man with a face that seems to be thinking all the time, and the questions he asks fit his identity as a thinker, "The era of the Big Four at Hogwarts But there is no headmaster, so should I be called a professor? Or Salazar, or Lord Slytherin?"

"Uh..." The headmasters fell silent, and a Slytherin-born headmaster suggested, "Should I be called Head Slytherin?"

"You sound like you're calling the Transfiguration teacher the Transfiguration teacher." Dai Lisi shook her head and looked at Dumbledore. "Albus, tell me, what should we call him?"

Listening to the principals bickering like this, and the ball was finally thrown into Dumbledore's hands, Nelson felt very fresh. He tried his best to hold back his laughter, but finally conceded, lowered his head, and hid his smiling face.

"I think we'd better ask for my own opinion." Dumbledore pulled back the bow, and there was a sound of tearing the aged oil paper, and a corner of the photo frame made of thick black wood was revealed in front of the principals. Dumbledore deeply Taking a breath, he lifted the oil paper covering the canvas, and an old man like a goat flashed in the portrait, and then disappeared.

Looking at the luxurious decoration on the canvas, Dumbledore rubbed his eyes, he thought he was dazzled.

"Oh, sorry." Salazar Slytherin reappeared in the canvas in new clothes, sat on a chair with exquisitely carved reliefs, raised his hand, and greeted with a smile, "I just went to After changing your clothes, are you the current headmaster of Hogwarts? Mr. Dumbledore."

"I'm the acting headmaster." Dumbledore nodded, then shook his head again, "The current headmaster is Professor Armando Dippet, and he is obsessed with some things, so I will act as his deputy. "

Dumbledore carefully looked at the old man who looked like a goat in front of him. This portrait of Slytherin was not very similar to his most widely circulated image, which made people doubt his authenticity, but seeing his At first glance, Dumbledore had already determined that this was Salazar Slytherin, one of the Big Four.

"Oh! Lord Slytherin!" "Headmaster Slytherin!" "Professor Slytherin!"

Various and strange names came one after another from the portrait wall behind Dumbledore.

"Dippet? So even the stubborn wizards of Dippett's family came to Hogwarts to study in the end?" Slytherin said half surprised and half relieved, "You guys are doing very well, now every year Can you recruit dozens of students?"

"All," said Dumbledore, "every eleven-year-old wizard in England will come to Hogwarts."

"That's it..." Slytherin nodded vigorously, remained silent for a moment, and said with a smile, "You are all great, much better than us back then, I heard your discussion, since everyone is dead, call me Just Salazar, if you think we don't know each other well, you can call me Slytherin."

"Okay, Salazar," Dumbledore nodded, "where do you want to hang yourself?"

"You can put me wherever you want," Slytherin raised his head and looked at Nelson, who was opposite Dumbledore. "Are you the one who let me see the sun again? It's funny, I left the school I founded by myself at the end of my life , I didn’t expect to be able to come back after a thousand years and line up with my descendants.”

"Nelson, may I give you a hand?" Dumbledore looked at the empty space next to Phineas, and reached for Slytherin's picture frame.

...

"What? That's a portrait of Salazar Slytherin himself?"

Tom yawned, and two tears flashed in the corner of his eyes. His eyes were already bloodshot. The preparations before the game made him exhausted. In comparison, sharing joy is the most important thing.

However, before he could share his joy, the heavy news from Nelson made him dizzy.

"Why don't you tell me? He seems to be my ancestor."

"I said it, but you've already left." Nelson shrugged. "I thought you had communicated with Slytherin in the Chamber of Secrets."

"I thought you were talking about a portrait of Slytherin, an antique in Slytherin House, but I didn't expect it to be him." Tom regretted that he had missed his ancestor, but quickly cheered up, "That's okay , When I win the championship, I will go to the principal's office to see him."

There was only a mess left after the carnival in the lounge. After Nelson and Tom went back separately, the celebration without a protagonist finally reached its climax, but it also came to an end at a faster speed. Back in the dormitory, only Nelson and Tom were left sitting by the fire with hot tea in front of them, suppressing sleepiness and chatting.

The pine branches in the fireplace crackled, and the smell of rosin and smoke permeated the lounge, quickly overshadowing the aroma of cake and butter beer.

"Professor Dumbledore told me that since I made great efforts in the first round and lost a lot," Nelson picked up the hot tea in front of him and held it in his hand, "The professors decided to let me choose a subjects, you can get full marks in OWLs without taking the exam..."

"Let me guess," Tom interrupted Nelson, laughing, "I suddenly feel like I have a gift for being a prophet."

He pretended to pour the hot tea in the cup into the fireplace, and the flames intensified on the contrary. Tom poured the tea dregs on the table, rolled his eyes and calculated, and muttered something in his mouth. After a while, he raised his head and looked at the fire. Nelson teased: "Tell me in the future, you will choose Potions as your full-score subject. If there is a warrior who challenges Lord Dark Lord in the future, he will definitely be grateful to me for helping him find the Dark Lord's weakness early - he has been passing the exam all year round. Potions struggling online."

Nelson, who was overwhelmed by a sentence, made a gesture to hit him. The two looked at each other and laughed loudly. They hadn't experienced such a leisurely time for a long time.

"Indeed, I suggest you become the boss of the Daily Prophet."

Nelson's blond hair was turned orange by the fire, and Tom's pale face also showed a hint of warmth. The two yawned alternately as if they were beating drums to pass flowers. From time to time, house elves appeared in the corner of the lounge, but because someone was Can't be cleaned and disappears quickly.

"You clean it up, it's okay." Nelson, with sharp eyes, saw the house elf in the corner and greeted, "We don't mind."

The barefoot elf in a towel shook his head and hid.

"They are always so shy," Tom turned his head and glanced, he was not interested in these weak little things, and commented casually, "Speaking of which, this is the first time I have seen house elves, I went to the kitchen to find food , they all hide."

"House elves are stipulated not to show up in front of their masters, or they will punish themselves." Nelson knew better and explained to Tom, "They are not shy, they are just enslaved by wizards."

"I can't see that you have empathy." Tom picked up the teacup, and the water in it was filled at some point, "Tsk tsk, it would be great if wizards could have the professionalism of house elves, but unfortunately I Look at the vast majority of people lacking that quality."

"I don't sympathize with them. Maybe the first generation of house elves who were enslaved deserve sympathy, but after so many years, the nature of obedience has been engraved in their genes," Nelson shrugged, "If you force your own values Giving them a 'reward' may not be considered a good thing... By the way, tell me, what did you hear from the golden egg?"

"Golden egg?" Tom lowered his head, kicked the golden egg under his feet, and it rolled away far away, "If you don't tell me, I would have forgotten it, but my respected Lord Dark Lord is worthy of A prophet, even such things can be guessed."

"I'm really thankful to you," Nelson held his forehead, "I said it all, this is the question that Professor Sigmund missed for me."

Ever since he was caught by Sigmund, Nelson has already made up his mind to tie the black pot firmly to him.

But Tom didn't seem to believe Nelson's words, he just waved his hand perfunctorily, and continued: "It's true that you can hear a different sound when you open the golden egg in the water in the prefect's bathroom, but I think it's not as good as the scream of the banshee." Woolen cloth."

"What's the matter? Is someone telling riddles again?" Nelson had already begun to wipe his wand.

"Not at all. I listened to it three or four times before I understood it. The voice in the golden egg sounds like that Sigmund recorded it himself," Tom said with a look of disgust, "His accent is really weird , it sounds like a Spaniard trying to imitate a German speaking English."

"Huh?" Nelson raised his eyebrows. "He's pretty normal when he talks to me."

"Maybe understanding foreign accents is also one of the tests for the second round of the competition," Tom curled his lips. "The voice in the egg is a poem, or breaking normal speech into short sentences. It probably means that we need to go through a lot. There are traps and tests, what are you looking for, do you need me to repeat it to you?"

"No, I'm afraid I'll fall asleep listening to it, and it feels even weirder for an Englishman to imitate 'Spanishers deliberately imitating Germans to speak English'." Nelson shook his head, "You can give me the egg another day, and I'll go to the bathroom to listen As soon as I heard it, Dwight gave me the password for the whole year anyway, and I can go to the prefect's bathroom anytime."

"Be careful when you broke in, someone was taking a shower. Isn't that embarrassing?" Tom pulled out his wand from his sleeve, waved it at the golden egg, and it flew over slowly. Tom caught the golden egg and left I tore off a piece of paper from the small notebook I was carrying, and handed it to Nelson, "In order to prevent you from being fired for playing hooligans, I'd better give you this week's appointment form. Speaking of which, you told me before There will be female ghosts peeping here, what a pity, I didn’t meet them.”

"Maybe people with this hobby haven't turned into ghosts yet." Nelson laughed, "I thought the second round of the project would be to let the warrior go to the bottom of the Black Lake to rescue the most important person he was kidnapped. "

"Are you kidding?" Tom raised his eyebrows, shocked by Nelson's whimsical thoughts, "Who can kidnap you? Did Grindelwald and Helbo hold hands and tie you up? Oh, yes, you have to Plus a Dumbledore. What's more, the Black Lake is too dirty, I don't want to swim in the century-old octopus soup, I feel suffocated just thinking about it."

"I'd suggest soaking some tomatoes in the Black Lake."

"Oh! That's even more disgusting, please, don't stain the tomatoes, please?"