Archive from 1899: a visit of Mr. Peverell(9)
“I don’t know WHAT they slaughtered–” Gellert chuckled at his own cunning joke.
“I told you he was not a friend to trust.” Aberforth illuminated the dungeon with his wand.
Inside the room there were piles of piles of parchments and printed books.
“Somewhere in the corner by left hand, I guess.” Gellert said.
“It’ s where you taught yourself with Mrs. Bagshot’s collection of volumes, in a dungeon?” Albus asked in an unbelievable tone.
“I would expect a bright and cozy room, but you know, a house guest cannot afford to be picky.” Gellert said.
“Name of book again?” Aberforth asked.
“The Resurrection Therapy besides acoustic spells.” Albus remembered clearly.
“Then I’ll search on the ground, Albus you do the shelves.” Aberforth had given out the assignment.
“What about me?” Gellert asked.
“I told you he was not a friend to trust.” Aberforth illuminated the dungeon with his wand.
Inside the room there were piles of piles of parchments and printed books.
“Somewhere in the corner by left hand, I guess.” Gellert said.
“It’ s where you taught yourself with Mrs. Bagshot’s collection of volumes, in a dungeon?” Albus asked in an unbelievable tone.
“I would expect a bright and cozy room, but you know, a house guest cannot afford to be picky.” Gellert said.
“Name of book again?” Aberforth asked.
“The Resurrection Therapy besides acoustic spells.” Albus remembered clearly.
“Then I’ll search on the ground, Albus you do the shelves.” Aberforth had given out the assignment.
“What about me?” Gellert asked.
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