magic sacrifice

"Go away, Scarhead, don't think I don't know you last night—"

"Have a nightmare?"

Draco sneered, pretending to be tongue-in-cheek: "Do you think I haven't seen people have nightmares, Saint Potter?"

"Oh," Harry answered him calmly, "at least you must not have seen the Savior have a nightmare."

"Is the dream of the savior higher than that of ordinary people?"

Harry stared at the fair-haired wizard with two dark circles under his eyes because he didn't sleep well, and found the long-lost exasperation and familiar critical sarcasm on the other's face.

In all honesty, even Malfoy seemed amiable compared to Voldemort.

"I don't think ordinary people would dream of dueling Voldemort," said Harry.

Draco turned off the ignition.

He angrily pulled open the curtain, tossed around for a long time with a messy hair that was comparable to the savior's nest head, and stood in front of Harry holding his hawthorn wand, squinting his eyes .

In fact, when they were about 17 years old, there was not much difference in height between the two of them, and Harry was a little thinner, and his amazing green eyes stared at each other quite calmly.

"I'm going to Dumbledore," Draco said, reluctantly asking in a threatening tone, "Are you going?"

Harry was tempted not to answer.

"Go." But he quickly replied with the opposite words. It's meaningless to argue at this time. He is more concerned about what happened to the inexplicable Professor Dumbledore yesterday. It is actually good to unite the front once in a while.

In fact, this room is not set with any complex spells that restrict movement, but a reverse door-opening spell is added restrictively. It cannot be opened directly with the Arahor hole, and due to the abnormal solidity, it is mixed with Dragon Tongue Blood and Mandrake. Special materials, under normal circumstances, can't make that unlucky door scrapped even if it falls apart.

So they only have one method available now.

Climb the window.

Harry skillfully pried open the only small window, stuffed his wand into his inner trouser pocket, looked around with his head, made sure he didn't see any patrolling people, then kicked his legs and climbed up, jumping three or two times When I got down, I still didn't forget to be vigilant (and only psychologically comforted) and added an illusion spell to myself.

Draco found it difficult to maintain his aristocratic demeanor at such a moment, he maintained a cracked expression and stared at the skilled savior, with only one thought in his mind.

—How many times has he done this? !

Thanks to Grindelwald's unabashed style, after Draco "rolled" down in embarrassment, judging by the layout of Malfoy Manor, the two of them quickly found the suspected bedroom.

However, the voice inside seems... Doesn't sound right?

Two half-grown wizards sneakily touched the corner of the wall, approaching the door, trying to hear what happened inside, like two large lizards clinging to the wall.

"You look really stupid, Potter."

"You don't give in too much."

"...What's the sound in there?"

"Can't hear clearly, just some strange noises...Damn it, I should have brought George and Fred's retractable ears." That's a bug.

"Have you listened well?!" Draco began to be impatient with the current cheating posture, and urged in a low voice.

Harry clung to the door intently, frowning.

"Wait, Malfoy, did you hear any strange cries for help?"

Call for help?