Wild Hunt.

Dumbledore pushed up his glasses.

This word was not unfamiliar to him - in the legends of Great Britain, there was also a legend called "Wild Hunt". There were hounds and ghost-like knights who came with the sound of horns, bringing death and war. Those who encountered the Wild Hunt would be killed by them and then become one of them.

"Our world also had the legend of the Wild Hunt," Dumbledore said softly.

Geralt and Yennefer looked over.

Harry also glanced sideways.

He seldom read such insignificant folk stories. This kind of intelligence gathering work was usually done by Hermione. The legend of "Wild Hunt" which had nothing to do with Voldemort, the Three Hallows, or even any legendary props that might be obtained by Voldemort had naturally never been mentioned.

Dumbledore continued, "In a book called The Peterborough Chronicle, it was recorded that more than 800 years ago, there was a Wild Hunt in Great Britain that lasted for two months. They were tall and wore black armor, and even their dogs were black."

"There were also some wizards who fought against the Wild Hunt. They were very powerful, but they were eventually driven away before Easter."

Having said this, he paused.

"It is also recorded in the book that winter came early that year, but war and famine had always shrouded the land of Great Britain, and no one paid much attention to this strange phenomenon."

"Now it seems that the early frost and snow may have been brought by the Wild Hunt."

Harry murmured, "The Wild Hunt came more than eight hundred years ago?"

Dumbledore shook his head: "I'm afraid there's more."

"The legend of the Wild Hunt is also very old, almost from the same period as King Arthur."

"And for thousands of years, this has happened from time to time—"

"It's a pity that Nico has passed away, otherwise we could still ask him for advice. He lived long enough and even saw it with his own eyes."

Harry rubbed his head, "Ciri also came into this world during the time of King Arthur."

"She met Galahad."

"Did Godric tell you?"

Dumbledore shook his head: "Godric doesn't trust me as much as you do. He is too partial to you as the heir. Obviously, I am also a very good Gryffindor."

"Did Ciri leave anything in this world?" Geralt asked.

Harry nodded, "Yes, I'll take you there when we get to Hogwarts."

They agreed and chatted.

There was a buzzing sound in the sky, followed by a bright, concentrated beam of light.

Geralt drew his sword carefully.

"Relax, that's my horse," Harry said.

horse?

Can fly?

Geralt put away his sword and looked on with interest—no witcher could resist a flying horse.

The Sorting Hat landed on the ground, followed by a motorcycle with a griffin and "Gryffindor First" painted on it.

“Are these horses from this world?” Geralt looked at them. “They look very charming.”

The Sorting Hat muttered, "Hey, I'm not a horse."

"I have the greatest hat in the world, and the greatest motorcycle."

"Harry, you're really inconvenienced by having a motorbike come over here."

Harry looked at it: "Why would you come here on a motorcycle like this?"

"I like it the best." The Sorting Hat answered confidently.

Harry sighed and slapped the dashboard: "You will take Geralt and Yennefer with you later."

"Let's go back to Hogwarts."

Geralt looked at the two not-so-tall and even fancy motorcycles, feeling somewhat at a loss: "How should I ride it, like a horse?"

"It's not like riding a horse." The Sorting Hat trotted over. "Just sit on it. I can ride myself."

Harry had already climbed onto the colorfully painted motorcycle, but Dumbledore was in no hurry to get on. He waved his wand, conjured up a sidecar, stuffed the tied-up Bella into it, and then got on.

Geralt followed Harry's lead and sat in the front.

Yennefer also sat on it and naturally put her arms around Geralt's waist.

"Let's go!" the Sorting Hat shouted happily, "What's your name, you white-haired man?"

"Geralt."

"Geralt, just hold the handle. Don't move or twist it."

"Of course, you can try to flick the blue switch."

A blue switch?

Geralt reached out and turned it.

The spell covering the motorcycle broke down, and a huge, strong wind blew immediately, making it difficult for him to open his eyes.

"Well?" the Sorting Hat smiled.

Geralt remembered the previous position and flipped the switch back. The magic took effect immediately, and the barrier emerged again, blocking out the strong wind.

"I almost thought I was going to fall." He smiled and shook his head.

"What is your relationship with Harry?" the Sorting Hat asked curiously, "The ancestor of the Potter family? You and he have the same eyes."

"It seems the Potters have been studying at Hogwarts, but I haven't seen you."

Geralt said simply: "Harry will introduce me if I can."

The Sorting Hat muttered, "Okay, okay."

The distance from the Malfoy family to Hogwarts is not far.

Half an hour later, they saw the magnificent castle by the lake.

Geralt's eyes were deep.

castle……

What a familiar building.

They shuttled between the towers and soon entered a room through a huge window. In order to make it easier for the Sorting Hat to take Godric's portrait out to play, Dumbledore specially converted the window of his office into a huge floor-to-ceiling window.

Get off the motorcycle.

Dumbledore waved his wand. "Would you like something to drink?"

“Just a beer,” Geralt said.

Yennefer waved her hand: "A glass of water."

Without Dumbledore casting any spell, the drinks they wanted immediately appeared on the table.

"Butterbeer, I don't know if you like it." Dumbledore asked them to sit down. "Harry doesn't like it very much. He prefers whiskey or brandy."

Geralt tried a sip.

It has a light toffee flavor and a buttery, mellow mouthfeel, but it tastes very refreshing.

"Ye, you should like it. Would you like to try it?" Geralt handed her the cup.

Harry didn't sit down.

He waved his wand and the Pensieve flew out of the cupboard, creating a high stool to catch the huge stone basin.

"Would you like to come and take a look?" Harry invited them as he took out the bottle containing memories.

All three of them stood up again.

The Sorting Hat's mind returned to the hat, and it muttered quietly, "Can I watch even if I'm immersed in it?"

"I don't think so." Harry shook his head and put the memory in. "And you're too big."

"Just bury your head in it." He raised his head and explained to Geralt and Yennefer how to use it.

He took a deep breath and buried his head first.

Dumbledore followed suit.

The two of them looked at each other and buried their heads.

His face touched the body in the Pensieve, which gave him a huge attraction, cold, dark, and swaying in the vortex.

The four people landed quickly.

They appeared in an empty but luxuriously decorated bedroom with two people in the room - Bellatrix and Voldemort.

"This is Bellatrix's memory. They can't find us." Just as Geralt was about to cast Quinn and pull out the sword from the lake, Harry stopped him and explained in a low voice, "This is something that happened in the past."

Voldemort lay in bed like a baby, and gave Bellatrix his last words.

Harry listened, pacing around the room.

Bellatrix didn't have a very deep impression of this room. Many places were blurry, and only a few papers had text on them.

Deathly Hallows, Avalon, Potter...

Some things that they knew might be useful before, but are of no use to them now.

Voldemort finished his instructions and called Rodolphus over.

After he finished saying "If Severus is a traitor, do everything possible to kill him", a milky white mist suddenly emerged in his memory.

"What's going on?" Geralt asked in surprise.

Harry frowned, "This memory is damaged. We'll see if we can repair it later."

soon.

The white mist receded.

Bellatrix reappears, and Voldemort has taken on Rodolphus' body.

He waved his hand: "My dear Bella."

"Are you ready to give me everything?"

Bella responded gently, but opened the cabinet and grabbed a book inside.

She was tempted by the portkey.

There was a whirlpool of memories, and they were transported along with Bellatrix.

Came to a manor.

There was only a thin but tall and pale man in the room.

"Barty Crouch Jr." Harry said softly, his eyes deep.

Two years had passed since the beginning of fourth grade, and this was the first time he had seen this person in person.

"Bella, why are you here?" Crouch was surprised, his face gloomy, "And you used the portkey."

"Potter and Dumbledore have found Malfoy Manor." Bellatrix said sadly, "Narcissa, my dear sister has become a despicable betrayer. Run away and take the master's treasure with you."

"Father's orders?" Crouch stood up.

Bellatrix nodded, "Yes, my master's orders."

"He wants you to flee, preferably far away from Great Britain, and look for something somewhere else that can revive the master and make him even more powerful."

Crouch clenched his fists, his face humiliated: "Where are my father's new memories?"

"There is no time to pull out the memory." Bellatrix shook her head, "The master had just possessed Rodolphus' body when they broke into the manor. I had to come and remind you, otherwise I couldn't leave there."

Harry narrowed his eyes.

"But the master has some instructions." Bellatrix continued softly, "Harry has been gifted with knowledge from another world."

"Go find clues about the Wild Hunt."

"Beside him, there are new helpers, Yennefer and Geralt."

"Geralt is a white-haired man with powers comparable to non-magical Harry."

"And Yennefer, a witch with powers nearly as powerful as Severus."

"But the power of the Wild Hunt is stronger than them all. Let's find the Wild Hunt and use their power..."

At this point, Bellatrix paused and said in a serious tone: "Try to believe Severus."

"The master knows that he will help Dumbledore and Potter pass on some of our news, but he has been branded by the master and will always be a member of the Death Eaters. In the end, he will only be a Death Eater."

Crouch nodded: "I understand."

"So where do you think we should go now?"

Bellatrix shook her head: "No, it's you."

"Bati, you are the master's godson and the last hope of the Death Eaters..."

"I will always stay by my master's side."

They walked out of the house, up the stairs, to the basement entrance, opened the layers of magic barriers, and finally walked in.

There are two things in the room.

Two broken cans and a key.

Crouch grabbed the key and put it in his pocket. After distinguishing the two cans, he put his hand on one of them. The portkey started and disappeared with him.

Bellatrix grabbed another can and returned to Malfoy Manor.

"That's all we need to know for now," Harry said, grabbing Yennefer with one hand and Geralt with the other, and looking up - the floor slowly moved away from their feet, but soon they felt solid again. They pulled their heads out of the Pensieve and returned to the office.

"Voldemort's last Horcrux is a key?" Dumbledore was a little surprised.

"Do you think that memory can be trusted?" Harry shook his head, stretched out his wand, pulled Bellatrix who was still in the sidecar over, and put her at Dumbledore's feet, "Let's see if her memory has been tampered with."

The two of them checked it carefully.

"The middle of the conversation was destroyed by violence and cannot be repaired." Dumbledore shook his head.

"There are signs of memory modification, but I can't tell which part it is." Harry frowned, threw Bellatrix to the ground, and cast a sleeping spell. "Bellatrix should have gone to see Crouch, but the other things..."

The highest level of deception is to mix lies with the truth.

Voldemort was very good at this. He was a smart man, and was best at playing with people's hearts - deceiving old women. It was a shameful thing to say it out loud, but it was a skill that could make those mature people who had experienced a lot willingly reveal their biggest secrets. It was not something that could be achieved with just a handsome face.

Memories aren't entirely false.

Both Harry's understanding of Voldemort and his analysis of magic detection illustrate this point.

But the question is, which ones are true and which ones are false.

"I just noticed outside the window, the terrain should be obvious?" Geralt sat down.

"It's in the southeast of Great Britain." Harry nodded, "But the layout of the room is a bit out of place. Did you notice a dressing table?"

"Barty Crouch is a man."

Geralt thought for a moment, "Don't men here wear makeup?"

"The external environment may be real, but the house is definitely not that house." Harry analyzed, "And those words, looking for the Wild Hunt may not be false..."

"Whichever Voldemort is resurrected will be hungry for power."

Harry looked up at Dumbledore. "If he is going to look for the Wild Hunt, where is he most likely to go?"

Dumbledore thought for a moment: "Germanic region."

"That's the area with the most records and the most Wild Hunt occurrences."