Chinese students at Hogwarts

The venue for the ghost banquet is relatively fixed. In the corridor leading to the underground classroom, there is a very narrow passage going down.

When a group of people walked through this path that was only for one person, Ron complained: "They might as well just block the passage. They can go directly through the wall anyway."

Hermione said disapprovingly: "Ron, don't you think this is interesting? It feels... like Alice in Hell."

Who roamed where? Ron looked confused. He had only watched "The Adventures of Mad Muggle Martin Migs" and "Dragon Ball".

The aisle leading to the party was also lit with candles, but the effect was not at all pleasant: they were all dark, thin little candles.

When burning, it glows with blue light and looks eerie. The temperature dropped with every step they took.

Harry thought it was a good thing that his body was covered with 'werewolf hair', because Ron, who was dressed as a ghoul, had put on an extra black robe. He was shivering and wrapped his clothes tightly, almost Stretch yourself into a mummy.

At this time, he heard a sound, as if a thousand fingernails were scratching on a huge blackboard. The sound was so heart-breaking.

"What is this? The music of ghosts?" Harry asked quietly.

Malfoy snorted. With his pale face and fangs, and illuminated by candles, he had already left the category of cosplayers and directly surpassed the real owner.

"Is that called music?" Malfoy said disdainfully: "Even the sound made by Muggles using violins to saw wood is better than this."

They turned a corner and saw an almost headless Nick standing in a doorway, draped in a black velvet curtain.

Nick seemed surprised when he saw them, but when he learned that they wanted to come to the party, he became extremely happy.

But when a few ghosts hold a death anniversary party, there are no living people willing to attend.

"Welcome, welcome you to come, I'm so happy"

He took off his feathered hat, bowed and invited them in.

Uh, is this a scene where demons are dancing wildly? Zhang Xiao twitched the corner of his mouth.

The underground classroom was crowded with hundreds of milky-white, translucent figures, most of them wandering around the overcrowded dance floor, waltzing and playing music to the terrifying and trembling sounds of thirty musical saws. Saw's band was sitting on the stage covered in black cloth.

A thousand candles were lit in a chandelier overhead, giving off a midnight blue light. Their breath formed a cloud of mist in front of them, as if they had walked into a refrigerator.

Zhang Xiao felt that his DNA was moving, and he couldn't help but want to take out the peach wood sword and shout something urgent like a law.

"Let's take a look around?" Hermione's two furry paws were like two big gloves. She was not too cold, but was full of interest in the party.

Everyone nodded in agreement, and they walked slowly around the edge of the dance floor, passing a group of sullen nuns and a ragged man in chains.

They also saw the Fat Friar: a Hufflepuff ghost with a cheerful personality who was chatting with a knight with an arrow stuck in his forehead.

Blood Man Barrow was also there. He was as skinny as a stick, and his body was covered with silver bloodstains. Other ghosts were making a large space for him, while their eyes were staring straight at a ghost in the distance.

That was Helena, also known as Ms. Gray. She looked cold and indifferent. It seemed that nothing was worthy of her attention. It seemed that coming to the banquet was just polite.

"Oh, shit," Hermione stopped suddenly and turned around, turned around, I don't want to talk to Moaning Myrtle - "

But it was already too late. As a junior among ghosts, Myrtle had only been dead for 50 years. The ghosts had no common language with her at all, so she was always bored. When she saw familiar people, she immediately pounced on them.

Hermione subconsciously wanted to avoid it, but to her surprise, Myrtle completely ignored her and rushed towards Zhang Xiao.

"open!"

Myrtle stopped in front of them, put her index finger in her mouth, and looked at Malfoy and Harry boldly, seemingly shy, and ignored Ron:

"Oh, these two handsome guys."

Zhang Xiao interrupted her directly:

"No, they are still children" (Malfoy and Harry raised their chests: We are not!)

Myrtle sighed regretfully, and then quickly thought of something:

"Soon, it only takes a few years. What I don't lack most is time."

She quickly switched roles and acted as a tour guide. For the bored ghosts, they were happy to do anything interesting and to pass the time.

"Look, are those ghost foods?" Ron asked curiously.

Looking in the direction he pointed, there was a long table, also covered with black velvet.

They stepped forward curiously, then stopped in horror. The smell was so bad.

Huge chunks of rotting meat were served on handsome silver platters, dark, charred cakes were piled on large trays;

There was also a generous amount of maggot-infested haggis and a slab of cheese covered in green hair.

In the center of the table stood a huge gray cake in the shape of a tombstone, with tar-like icing spelling out the following words: Sir Nicholas Deminsey-Popington died on October 31, 1492.

At this time, a fat ghost came towards the table. He squatted down and passed directly through the middle of the table, his mouth wide open, and he happened to pass through a smelly salmon.

Zhang Xiao frowned and asked Myrtle, "Can you taste it if you just put it through like this?"

Myrtle said sadly, "Absolutely, it doesn't have any taste."

"I guess they let the food rot to make the smell stronger." Hermione said knowingly. She covered her nose and leaned forward to take a closer look at the rotten meat-stuffed lamb tripe.

Can't taste it? Zhang Xiao suddenly came up with a bold idea. Do you want to try it?

He took out paper money for incense candles, paper figurines, fruit plates and rice, dishes and wooden chopsticks, and a bottle of Yanghe Daqu from the bag, which was basically the same set he gave to Quirrell last time.

It seems that the West does not have a culture of giving cold food to ghosts, but the East is good at it! Who doesn’t offer incense and give something to their deceased relatives and ancestors?

The formal Taoist rituals are included in the Zhaijiao rituals, and my father did not teach them. He could only follow what he had done when he visited the grave in his previous life and what he saw in the movies.

He let Myrtle float in front of him, asked for his birth date, drew a useless talisman to guide the soul, and turned a brick into a brazier.

Put a few snacks on several plates, small biscuits and the like, which are all snacks that are usually placed in the Qiankun bag.

Picking up the wooden sword and swinging it casually a few times, he pointed the tip of the sword, and the three incense sticks immediately burned. The green smoke curled up in a spiral shape, and when it reached a certain height, it immediately became straight.

With another finger, a fire was lit in the brazier. He threw the talisman with the birth date in it. It was time to pour the wine. Zhang Xiao hesitated for a moment and replaced it with milk. He didn't know if it would work.

Anyway, this is how everyone visits graves, saying that ghosts can eat them.

A large group of ghosts have unknowingly gathered around. For them, having fun is their only pursuit.

The things Zhang Xiao created were something these ghosts had never seen before or after.

Myrtle looked at Zhang Xiao busy here with a confused look on her face, and asked blankly:

"Zhang, what are you doing?"

Malfoy, who had seen Zhang Xiao do it once before in Chilawna, said in a sad tone:

"Don't talk, Zhang is holding a memorial service for you."

A memorial service? But I have been dead for fifty years?

Harry, Hermione, and Ron also had serious faces. They lined up in a row with heavy and sad expressions as if they were attending a funeral. Their heads were slightly lowered, but their eyes were communicating quickly and privately.

Malfoy is right! Sure enough, something interesting will happen if you follow Zhang here!

At this point, Zhang Xiao has a headache again. According to the custom of his previous life, he should say something at this moment to tell them that the younger generation has come to see you and brought you something.

But what should I shout now?

After thinking for a long time, I still shouted in Chinese with the attitude of not shouting twice:

"Myrtle Elizabeth Warren, I've got something for you. Eat and drink for yourself, and then give it to your neighbors." No, no, this is not a cemetery, where are the neighbors?

skip this paragraph

"If you need anything, just give it to the pony in the bed next to me. Remember to bless me." Bless me for what!

Zhang Xiao smacked his lips as if he was almost crying.

Green smoke curled up. When Zhang Xiao finished speaking, the fire in the brazier suddenly became stronger. A circle of ghosts stretched their necks, and Nick's head almost fell off again.

They let out bursts of exclamations and applauded enthusiastically, but there was no applause. They probably regarded Zhang Xiao's behavior as a performance.

Myrtle was confused for a while, and suddenly she sniffed, with an expression of disbelief on her round face.

She followed the smell to the three sticks of incense and sniffed the rising smoke vigorously.

This is a taste I haven't experienced in a long time.

"Myrtle, these are the cookies mom just baked. Are they delicious?

Slow down, there is more! Mom baked a lot. "

"My daughter is actually a wizard! Mom is proud of you!

I’m going to school tomorrow, so I have to get along well with my classmates there.”

"Take these cookies with you. If you make friends, remember to share them with them."

The Sorting Hat yells "Ravenclaw!"

"You ugly four-eyed girl, go to hell! You mudblood! Who wants to eat the cookies baked by your Muggle mother?"

"My daughter is not ugly, she is the cutest girl in my heart. Mommy will pour you a glass of milk, drink it and have a good sleep.

Tomorrow is another beautiful day! "

This smell is the wind of Hogwarts and the books of Ravenclaw Tower are the home in memory.

Myrtle seemed to be petrified. She froze in the air, milky white tears filling her eyes. Different from when she usually cried, her tears were shining with brilliance.

Mom, I seem to have forgotten many things after I became a ghost. I forgot how she cried when she faced my corpse, and I forgot to see if she was okay.

I just remember that I hated it so much and wanted to take revenge on the person who laughed at me.

I forgot that someone was missing me. Myrtle's lips licked twice, and she suddenly burst out with a heart-rending cry, turned around and rushed towards the wall.

Even though fifty years have passed

I want to go home and see.

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