Hogwarts White Knight

"Gawain, do you have any basis? I don't want to question you, but you know, wandology is a very complicated subject. Even "The Major Discovery of Modern Magic" is very secretive in this regard.

It is said that only a wand maker would understand. "

Hermione said with wide brown eyes.

"Of course not. I, the knight of the Knights of the Round Table, am not Aarons on Mount Luni.

But just because I don’t have one, I feel particularly powerful when I guess correctly, right? "

Gawain smiled cheekily, and the look made Hermione feel a little helpless, but also felt inexplicably reliable.

"I just went to have a chat with Mr. Ollivander. I believe he will have a more accurate judgment."

"..."

Neville hesitated for a long time, holding his wand tightly in his hand, shaking his head slowly but firmly and said:

"Thank you, Gawain, but I'm sorry, I still want to spend some time with it.

It is after all..."

"Neville, this is your decision. You don't need to apologize to me or anyone else."

Gawain patted Neville's shoulder, "But if you really insist...of course I won't refuse one or two chocolate frogs."

"Gawain, you can't..."

Hermione said with some dissatisfaction, but Gawain suddenly stretched out his finger in front of her lips, leaving the remaining half of her sentence in her mouth.

"Live in the moment (carpe die), this is the wisdom left to us by the great Horace."

After blinking, Gawain lay back in his seat comfortably.

"Humph."

Hermione rolled her eyes at him, took out a book from her backpack, and opened it to read.

But Gawain just glanced at the spine of the book and lost interest in it.

He really couldn't understand how Hermione managed to treat something like "A Guide to Medieval Witchcraft", which just sounded like a drowsy and headache-inducing book, as a hobby.

Shaking his head, he also took out "Modern History of Magic" and took notes while reading.

Only Neville picked up the wand and tried the previous "fluorescence flash" over and over again.

The abyss stared at him, eager to try.

The afternoon sun shone through the car window, then dimmed little by little, and finally turned into a bright red sunset.

Perhaps it was because the little wizards were really tired, and the carriage was no longer as noisy as it was when it first set off. Even Neville's toad Lyford was lying quietly in his palm, his belly bulging like a General exhaustion.

Of course, that might be because Abyss was lying on Neville's lap, looking at this idiot who always wanted to disappear with interest.

"Neville, your toad is extraordinary."

Gawain picked up the pumpkin juice and took a sip.

"Lif was given to me by Uncle Algie, but I really don't know what's so unusual about it.

Well? Another Miranda Gorshak, this is the fifth time I’ve met her. "

Neville said as he took down a chocolate frog drawing page. After opening it, he broke the chocolate frog in half and handed half to Gawain.

"Thank you. If you don't mind, I can trade you Bathilda Bagshot."

Gawain took the chocolate frog and said that although he was not very interested in collecting this kind of moving magic drawing paper, he was really curious about Miranda in "Standard Spell".

If the stories she wrote on the title page didn't contain an element of bragging, her talent for spells would have been unimaginably high.

"Did you ever notice it disappear even once?"

Gawain hooked his fingers, and the abyss jumped onto his legs, "Meow" and rubbed his head against him.

From Gawain's point of view, Leif was almost invisible. If it wasn't slapped back by the abyss every time, they wouldn't even know it was gone again.

"Shh! Did you hear anything?"

Hermione suddenly raised her head and frowned slightly.

"For example? A toothless witch laughing maniacally?"

Gawain said teasingly.

In the afternoon, an eager Hermione tried a spell recorded in the book.

The book says that this spell was a protective spell invented by witches in the Middle Ages and was specially used when brewing soup.

But practice has proven that the spell was actually bursts of laughter, as sharp as nails scratching across a blackboard.

Creepy.

If Gawain hadn't been lucky enough and reluctantly used the standard counter-spell (finite, which means the curse stops immediately) which he was not proficient at all, the three of them might not have been able to wait until the sorting ceremony began, and would have had to pay a visit due to mental pollution. A trip to Madam Pomfrey.

"But it's no wonder that witches use it as a protective charm when making soup. Under this laughter, even the villagers holding pitchforks dare not be curious."

Gao Wen was serious in his seriousness...

Nonsense.

"That's not true! And it's obviously you... I mean it!"

Hermione grabbed a chocolate frog off the table and threw it at him. Without much effort, the chocolate frog was easily caught by Gawain in the air.

But Gawain also understood what she meant.

——As the train arduously climbed up a hill, through the window, they saw a dark silhouette among the mountains.

"Is that it?"

"Coming!"

"For Merlin's sake, I'm going to starve to death."

"Fred! No, George! Or Fred? Give me the badge back!"

"..."

Many voices, a cacophony of voices.

At this moment, it is extremely harmonious.

Together they form a calling.

——"Hogwarts! That's Hogwarts!"

"Gawain! Gawain! Gawain?!"

Hermione stood up suddenly, stood in front of Gawain two steps at a time, shook one hand vigorously in front of his eyes, and shouted his name loudly.

But Gawain seemed unaware, just looking out the window in the direction of Hogwarts Castle. Unexpectedly, the chocolate frog had let go and fell to the ground.

"Red and red, yellow and yellow, white and white..."

He let Hermione and Neville push him around, muttering in his mouth. But only Gawain himself knew what kind of scene he saw at this moment.

Not a mountain, not a castle, not even a train.

The world is like a large block of color that a painter uses his brush to sway freely. Red, yellow, and white are intertwined, but they are distinct from each other.

As he stared, the color blocks began to move, condensing into clumps of threads, intertwining with each other, and finally turning into a blood-red door.

Above the gate, there is a long poem written in Latin or Greek.

But Gawain understands its meaning.

"From here, you can go straight to the miserable city.

From me, straight to endless suffering.

From me, it leads directly to fallen sentient beings.

The Holy Judgment on high inspires the king who created me;

His power is the power that made me,

It is the source of supreme wisdom and universal love.

I am immortal;

—Before me,

Nothing is formed, only eternal things exist. "

"Whoever comes, quickly abandon all hope."

Gawain read the last sentence.