Gazing at the diadem worn on the statue's head, Evans frowned slightly.
He didn't sense anything particularly special about this diadem, but the pixie's danger sense had actually been triggered.
Although that sense of danger wasn't very deep, the fact that a diadem could trigger a danger sense meant it was definitely not ordinary.
Thinking this, Evans stepped forward, planning to take down that diadem for a closer look.
But just as he was about to approach the diadem and reach out his hand, an extreme danger suddenly completely enveloped him. The pixie's talent was pushed to its limits, even manifesting a pair of semi-transparent wings behind him.
Without any hesitation, Evans vanished as a silver-white arc of light and reappeared in the corridor five metres away, looking again toward the diadem's position.
The dilapidated crown still rested on the pockmarked wizard bust, as if nothing had happened.
But the pixie's talent had just told him that if he had taken another half step forward, he would have fallen into mortal danger.
Looking at that dilapidated diadem, Evans's gaze carried a trace of confusion. Due to his talent's existence, over all these years he had quite a few life-saving spells from magical creatures on him.
Even so, approaching that diadem would still result in mortal danger?
What exactly was this thing? And who had brought it here?
After hesitating for a moment, Evans's eyes turned black as he raised his head to look at that diadem again. The next second, his vision was completely filled with dense blackness.
Endless black mist continuously poured out from that diadem, covering everything around with a heavy layer of blackness.
"This..."
Swallowing hard, Evans couldn't help but step back two paces, looking at the diadem emanating a dense black aura in disbelief.
That was the aura of curses. Extremely terrifying curses.
Although the Thestral's eyes couldn't discern the specific form of the curse, given the density of this black aura, Evans had no doubt that if he had dared to directly touch that diadem earlier, he would have died mysteriously within a few days.
Fortunately, the pixie's danger sense had activated timely enough, preventing him from dying an inexplicable death.
But why would someone place such a dangerous item in a room meant for hiding things? Weren't they afraid someone might accidentally touch it?
Shaking his head, Evans dispelled the blackness in his eyes and looked again at that worn diadem.
For some reason, when he saw that diadem, he always felt it looked somewhat familiar, as if he often saw something extremely similar to it.
Hmm... seemed like he had just seen it?
A flash of inspiration crossed his mind. Evans took another look at that diadem, memorised its appearance, then turned and left this magical room the way he came.
The smooth door slowly disappeared. Evans walked forward along the path he came, and after a while, he stopped and looked up.
By the stairs leading to the eighth floor corridor hung a portrait quietly. The woman in the portrait wore a magnificent diadem on her head and was resting with her eyes closed.
She rarely seemed to open her eyes and wouldn't acknowledge passing pedestrians, unlike the portraits of Hufflepuff and Gryffindor, who often chatted with young wizards.
However, the diadem on that woman's head was very similar to the one he had just seen, except the diadem in the painting was brand new, while the one he had just seen was completely dilapidated.
But aside from that, the two diadems had no differences.
Ravenclaw's diadem...
Squinting slightly, Evans had a vague suspicion in his heart.
He recalled something Dumbledore had mentioned to him before.
It seemed that after Dumbledore returned this time, he would need to find an opportunity to talk with him.
Previously, he had only planned to ask Dumbledore to help find a curse specialist to see if they could break the restrictions on that Chimaera, but now there was another matter.
Although he didn't know if it counted as good news, he seemed to have discovered a Horcrux.
Western England, in a dilapidated small town.
A flash of realisation crossed the eyes of the shabbily dressed middle-aged man, who couldn't help but look at the white-haired, white-bearded old man before him with admiration.
"You truly are a learnt, great personage."
"You flatter me. I'm just an ordinary old man." Chuckling mischievously, the old man pulled out several more candies from his pocket and handed them to some children who had come running over after hearing the news.
This old man had been in the town for over half an hour, and in just that half hour, he had brought countless candies to the children and counselled many confused townspeople, helping quite a few regain confidence in life.
He seemed to enjoy this and planned to continue this endeavour.
But just then, a deep, slow voice that could naturally calm people down sounded behind the old man, with a somewhat helpless tone:
"You really know how to get along with Muggles, Dumbledore."
Hearing this voice, the old man paused and spoke softly:
"Hmm? You're here? Wait a moment."
With that, he looked apologetically at the middle-aged man nearby and said gently: "I'm sorry, sir, but I may need you to forget some things."
"What..."
The middle-aged man was somewhat confused, but before he could react, an invisible ripple spread outward from the old man as its centre.
All the people around who had conversed with the old man became vacant-eyed for a moment. After recovering, each person's eyes showed some confusion.
They felt they had just experienced a pleasant conversation, and some of the grievances and doubts buried deep in their hearts had dissipated somewhat, but no matter how they tried to remember, they couldn't recall what had just happened.
Only some children looked at the candies that had suddenly appeared in their hands with delighted expressions.
After everyone around began subconsciously ignoring him, Dumbledore smiled and turned around, looking at the bald, tall, dark-skinned middle-aged wizard behind him.
"Good afternoon, Kingsley. How are things?"
Hearing this, Kingsley shook his head slightly.
"As you said, I found an excuse to lead a team patrolling this area for a long time but still haven't found any clues."
"Rather, being able to discover such a place where he once lived is already quite remarkable. I really can't imagine a wizard would hide in a place like this."
Looking at the shabby poor people around them, Kingsley sighed silently.
"But this news is already outdated. All clues end here. That person just vanished like he evaporated from the earth, completely disappearing a few days ago." Kingsley shrugged. "Are you still going to France to look for clues? I don't think he'll go back there."
"We still have to go." Dumbledore said softly, a trace of amusement appearing in his azure eyes. "After all, I promised Madam Maxime I'd have afternoon tea at her place. I wouldn't want to break my word."
With that, he looked at Kingsley again.
"Has there been anything unusual at the Ministry lately?"
"Unusual..." Kingsley thought for two seconds, then said in a teasing tone:
"I don't know if this counts as unusual, but that Umbridge woman seems a bit off lately."
"She's been abnormally normal recently. So normal it's somewhat abnormal."
"Overall, I suppose it's good news?"