In the spiritual world, the two communicated at extremely fast speeds.

In the real world, time passes very slowly.

Tick ​​tock.

Nine seconds.

Dumbledore sat behind the chair as if nothing happened, and even made a joke: "Do you have anything to say to me? The bed at Hogwarts is too hard and you are not used to sleeping on it?"

In the shadows, Hoffa controlled his body and slowly retreated. He couldn't see Dumbledore's face clearly, but he could feel a little sadness and apology in his tone?

Wait, what's that tone?

Hoffa felt very confused.

"There is a dark wizard." Alastor Moody lowered his head and said like a puppet: "I feel the breath of evil."

Dumbledore opened his mouth slightly, pushed up his glasses, and sighed softly: "It seems you feel it too, old man."

Eight seconds.

Hoffa's body trembled as he was retreating. Miller probably just controlled Moody and said casually without thinking at all, but Dumbledore said that he also felt it. What did he feel? Did he feel his own existence?

"The black star is rising, and the gods are fighting."

Dumbledore slowly raised the black wand in his hand: "Death has sensed the provocation from the past. It will drive a carriage across the sky, leaving no grass growing wherever it goes."

"What are you talking about!?"

Seven seconds.

Moody raised his head, his blank eyes reflecting the shock of Hoffa and Miller.

Six seconds.

"I have no way to explain to you. There is no way at all. Each of us has problems that must be solved, big or small."

Dumbledore looked at his wand and whispered as if in sleep: "But I believe that my best companion will always make the right choice, are you right?"

Hoffa felt as if he was struck by lightning, and the cold sweat suddenly fell from his back. Those penetrating blue eyes seemed to see through space.

Five seconds.

The emptiness in Moody's eyes faded, and Miller gradually took control of his body. He asked coldly: "What on earth are you talking about, Albus?"

Five seconds.

Four seconds.

Three seconds.

But three full seconds passed, and Dumbledore didn't answer. He sat there, motionless, as if he had been petrified. At the same time, an inexplicable sense of sleepiness came to Hoffa's heart, and he suddenly wanted to sleep.

Think of it like you took sleeping pills after traveling all day.

He thought it was dawn, but turned to look out the window.

The sky is dark, the full moon is high, and there is no sunlight at all. Feeling tired at night is something that was almost unthinkable in the past.

Fortunately, the drowsiness came and went quickly. Three seconds later, he woke up and controlled his body to continue to retreat.

"Albus."

"Albus?"

"Albus!?"

In the office, Miller remotely controlled Moody to push Dumbledore several times.

Waiting for Hoffa to retreat to the door, Albus Dumbledore was startled, slowly raised his head, his eyes turned from sharp to cloudy, he muttered: "I'm old, I can't concentrate anymore..." After that,

, as if he had just seen Moody standing in front of him, he asked in surprise: "Why are you here, Alastor, how did you get in?"

He completely forgot what he had just said and repeated the question he had just asked a few seconds ago.

Miller wanted to answer, but Hoffa took over his control of Moody and manipulated Moody to say: "Nothing, I suddenly couldn't sleep in the middle of the night, and I really want to come over and talk to you."

"What do you want to talk to me about?" Dumbledore asked somewhat alertly.

"After three days at Hogwarts, the bed I slept on was harder than the deck of the Mayflower." Moody lamented: "My waist can no longer hold up."

Tick ​​tock.

There are two seconds left for the ghost walk.

"It turns out that's why. You can just tell Filch about this kind of thing and ask him to change your bed. There's no need to tell me specifically."

Albus Dumbledore said absentmindedly. He turned around and looked at the pensieve, pressing his wand against his temple.

"What are you doing?" Hoffa asked curiously.

"I need time to sort out my memories. I have lived for too long and there are too many memories in my mind, making it difficult for me to think clearly. You should go back first."

After saying that, he waved his hand extremely tiredly, and the office door slammed shut.

Before leaving the room, the last scene was Dumbledore pulling out a crystalline silk thread from his temple and putting it into the pensieve.

Tick ​​tock.

The last seconds of the ghost walk.

Hoffa left the shadow world, and Alastor Moody, whose soul had been stolen, was also pushed out of the room by Dumbledore's magic.

Outside Albus Dumbledore's office, Hoffa looked at his right hand.

Deep uneasiness arose in his mind.

At this moment, Dumbledore was stranger than ever, as if the person talking to him was not one person, but two people. In the first few seconds, he was exactly the same as the man in the original book, calm and gentle, strong and indifferent. But

Ever since the strange sleepiness hit him, Dumbledore seemed to have changed. He became like the old and irritable Armando Dippet fifty years ago.

This reminded him of what the God of Nightmares said: if he stayed at this time and did not go back, the entire world would collapse.

What's this?
Chapter completed!