Chapter 645 Wu's Orphanage

There are six such glass bottles in Loren's pendant space.

If there is no other potion master in the school and no one else has mastered the magic of time, then these two bottles of elixir should be the two bottles he brewed with his own hands and witnessed the packaging with his own eyes last night.

Hermione walked lightly to her original position, sat down, and handed one of the bottles to Loren:

"Professor Slughorn gave it to me. One bottle belongs to you and one bottle belongs to me. He said it was a reward for the first Potions lesson and he promised it to us at the time."

Loren thought this old professor who had returned from retirement was quite interesting. He pushed it back and forth last night and thought it was over, but it turned out that he was waiting here. In any case, both sides were not losing money, so he didn't bother to think about it and kept the blessing elixir calmly.

He chuckled and said, "Professor Slughorn is quite interesting. Although he pursues material comfort, he is not greedy with the elixir he received."

Hermione nodded: "Although he prefers club members, he does not ignore other students because of this. He is a good professor with some shortcomings."

"You just look at me weird."

"..."

Hermione glanced at Mrs. Pince in front of the bookshelf, pursed her lips and said nothing, picked up the quill and dipped it in ink again, and continued writing her unfinished translation assignment.

Loren lowered his head to read, deliberately making a concentrated expression. When the administrator's gaze shifted, he began to talk about the precautions related to the elixir. His voice was very low and his lips barely moved.

"...The dosage in the glass bottle is enough to be used several times. Be careful not to use it continuously as there is a risk of addiction."

"Don't worry. Is there anything in school that warrants the use of Felixir?"

"Final exam."

"How could I..."

Just as Hermione was about to retort, she looked up and realized that this man was staring at her silently, his eyes a bit scary, and she couldn't help but shrink her neck.

Just thinking about it, not practicing it.

…

7:30 p.m.

The moon is also very round tonight.

After dinner, they went back to the lounge and sat for a while. Loren and Harry left the portrait hole and headed to the principal's office for Dumbledore's appointment.

It was not yet time to turn off the lights, and the two of them walked through the corridor side by side. Occasionally they met some familiar faces on the way, including Gryffindor who was running around, Hufflepuff who brought food to the rooftop for dinner, and occasionally La La who was exploring the castle. Venkla, almost no Slytherins, portraits in frames, and transparent figures emerging from behind the walls without warning.

"Two of spades, conflict..."

"Seven of spades, bad omen..."

"..."

A faint female voice could be heard muttering.

Loren slowed down: "Did you hear anything?"

"No... right?"

Suddenly, a woman in black robe jumped out from around the corner. Her face was thin, filled with anguish and sorrow, and her big eyes occasionally rolled around. She was Professor Trelawney.

She smelled of sherry, and she was shuffling a dirty deck of playing cards in her hands. While reading the numbers on the cards, she said to herself: "Ten of spades, violence... Jack of spades, a black The young man with the hair...well, this is definitely not right."

Loren and Harry watched her retreat away, not surprised.

Since Firenze the centaur joined Hogwarts as another Divination professor, Trelawney has been restless and suspicious all day long, thinking that Professor McGonagall wants to fire her. The young wizards can often see her pestering Deng Xiaoping. Bullido begged for an explanation.

Harry looked back, seeming to remember something, and asked hesitantly: "Loren, do you know how to interpret dreams?"

"Learned it in divination class."

"I know, but Ron and I never really listened."

"I sleep better than you during class."

"At least you read the book carefully."

"Ask me, why don't you catch up and ask Professor Trelawney, she will definitely be willing to interpret your dream."

"Forget it, no matter what the dream is, she will interpret the ominous signs for me. If I'm lucky, it will be an injury, and if I'm unlucky, it will be death."

Loren probably guessed his dream and said vaguely: "I can't interpret dreams, but I can listen to you..."

"It's a dream. When you wake up in the morning, you forget most of it. Only a small part is remembered clearly."

Harry looked at the empty corridor with soft eyes, "I remember it started from that night, the night I hung Ron upside down... Since then, I have dreamed every night, dreaming about my mother when she was young, For example, she and Aunt Petunia are actually very close, for example, she showed her magical talent and received the admission notice to Hogwarts..."

The Evans family was very happy at that time. It turned out that Aunt Petunia did not reject magic at first, and even envied her sister's talent...

"It's weird, right?" Harry scratched his head, "To be honest, I'm quite happy to see my mother in my dreams every night."

Loren shook his head and said nothing. He knew that Harry didn't need to interpret the dream, he just wanted to find someone to talk to.

"..."

8pm.

The two arrived outside the principal's office on time and knocked on the door. Dumbledore sat behind the desk and invited them to take a seat with a smile.

"I think you all remember the story of the Gaunt family. Marvolo and Monet were imprisoned. Merope married the handsome Muggle and was eventually abandoned to stay alone in London for ten galleons. Sold Slytherin's locket, struggled to conceive the child, and chose to die on the night of delivery..."

Loren's mind flashed back to the weekend of his second year, when Dumbledore took him to Little Hangleton and told Merope's story outside Gaunt's old house.

The moonlight quietly entered the house. Dumbledore put his wand against his temple, drew out a wisp of silver smoke, gently put it into the Pensieve, and then stirred it. "Tonight's moon is very suitable for adventure. We are going to go back 60 years to meet the child who will become Voldemort in the future."

Harry already had experience, so he didn't ask any more questions and plunged into the Pensieve.

Loren looked up at the old headmaster and leaned over to plunge into the cold memories in the stone basin.

As if falling from a height, the weightlessness lasted for a few seconds. After his feet were firmly planted and he opened his eyes, Loren found himself on a busy old-fashioned street. Harry and Dumbledore were observing a tall young man.

That was Dumbledore in his youth. Although his beard and hair were very long, they had not turned gray yet, but were a very energetic reddish brown. He wore an exquisite purple velvet suit, crossed the road in front of a carriage, and strode forward along the sidewalk.

"What a nice suit, sir."

"What a nice beard, sir,"

Hearing the compliments from the two, Dumbledore chuckled and pulled the two to follow quickly.

After walking a short distance, they passed through a large iron gate and finally entered a bare yard. Behind the yard was a gloomy and closed building surrounded by high railings.

There was a copper doorplate nailed in front of the door:

"Wu's Orphanage"