hogwarts shady

"Ryan, get up quickly, remember to change into the black dress in the living room." Valerie shouted outside the bedroom door.

"I know, Mom, I'll be right here." Ryan responded vaguely.

He didn't sleep well last night, and he was thinking about Hogsmeade all night.

While washing, Ryan looked at the thick dark circles under his eyes and smiled bitterly, and gently arranged his hair with some pity.

After breakfast, they went to the sparsely populated road next to Iris Road and boarded the Knight Bus.

The three of them took the polyjuice antidote as required before being allowed to board the car.

"Where are we going this time?" The person who spoke was still the conductor witch from yesterday.

"Cornwall Mines, Meto," Lane replied.

His uncle did not own any real estate, but lived in an ordinary boarded house rented with several co-workers.

After Yule's death, his body is still in the hospital morgue.

They had to go to the Ministry of Civil Affairs in Meto Town to confirm the situation and go through the formalities before they could hold a simple funeral for Yule.

The Knight Bus is fast and arrives in Cornwall in the blink of an eye.

Meto Town is located next to the mine. It is a small village where workers gather. Most of the houses here are board houses, which are usually purchased by several mining companies and rented to their own workers at low prices.

The residences of local residents are much better and farther away from the mines. They are basically scattered in the surrounding hills.

Due to the mining industry, the air quality here is even worse than in London. The air is filled with a pungent smell of sulfur, and there are light yellow smoke clouds visible to the naked eye, with almost no trace of blue visible.

Ryan wanted to cast a head-soaking spell on himself to block out the smelly air, but this would obviously violate the confidentiality law.

He had to wear two layers of gauze mask on himself.

There is almost no business in Meto Town, the roads are only paved with crude cement, and there are no rental cars.

Bach took his wife and son, coughing, and walked towards the Civil Affairs Bureau on the hilly side of the town.

"Hello." The clerk sitting at the window had a rough voice. His throat seemed to be clogged with phlegm, and he snored loudly as he breathed.

"Hello, we are relatives of Yule Franklin. We received your letter this week..."

"Ah, I know, Yule, that poor Yule." The clerk interrupted Bach, "Sorry, if he didn't even have a family, we wouldn't have come to you for advice..."

He coughed violently, lowered his head and vomited something into the trash can, and then gasped and said: "There are not many kind-hearted people like you, and most people don't care much about their distant relatives—— Especially the down-and-out distant relatives. Ha! The world is always full of snobbery..."

The clerk muttered and cursed a few more words, not knowing whether he sympathized with Yule or was complaining about himself.

He signed the approval letter intermittently with a pen that was almost dry, and shook it several times before handing the crumpled note to Bach: "Take it and go to the hospital in the town to get Jules - —Of course he is dead, and it would be best to give him a coffin. If not, just have someone drag him to the cemetery, and there will be a tombkeeper to bury him."

The clerk showed a cruel smile, and the meaning of his words was self-evident.

If there is no coffin, I am afraid that it will be thrown into the pit and buried hastily.

Bach was silent for a moment. He took out a ten-pound note from his wallet and handed it over through the window.

The clerk quickly grasped the thin piece of paper in his hand and smiled happily.Even when Ryan and the others walked away, he still shouted loudly and repeatedly from behind:

"Thank you, kind sir, thank you - ahem, thank you -"

When he arrived at the hospital, Ryan was still thinking that the clerk's fingernails and teeth were all yellow-brown, and he looked like a heavy smoker.

He wanted to remind the clerk to smoke less, but he felt that these words were too inappropriate.

He could only remain silent the whole time.

The hospital's facilities are much better. After all, it is built on a hill and is surrounded by some local residents and the private homes of several investors.

Bach handed the note from the Ministry of Civil Affairs to the manager on the first floor of the basement. The sturdy woman first squinted and carefully read the words on the note, then looked at Bach up and down, then nodded and remained silent. He walked into the dim morgue and pulled out a long chemical fiber bag on a cart.

"Are you going to move it yourself or ask someone to transport it?" She finally spoke, her voice as hoarse as the clerk just now.

"Consignment." Bach pursed his lips. He didn't drive over, let alone leave carrying the body on his own.

The stout woman nodded. She turned back, locked the door, and put the body bag on her shoulders: "It's 60 pounds for a trip. You can lead the way. You have to pay extra for a long journey. Don't be too expensive. You can't find this dirty job." Go do it to someone else.”

Bach didn't say anything. 60 pounds was not a big sum of money and he could afford it.It was just a feeling of depression that blocked his throat, making him feel a little uncomfortable. After a long time, he finally said one word: "You..."

He suddenly didn't know what to say.

"Betsy," the woman said, "If you wanted to ask me my name, I would say 'Betsy'; if you wanted to ask me my last name, I would tell you 'Dal', which was my father's. Last name; you can also call me 'Turner', this is my husband's last name, but he left me six years ago and ran away to who knows where."

Bach was silent.

The woman named Betsy did not receive a response and did not care. She continued to ramble: "I still hope you call me Betsy Dahle. I can at least rely on this name to make a living. As long as I guard the morgue, I will be able to make a living in one day." An income of two pounds; if I can help clean the hospital by the way, they will give me an extra five pounds each time; occasionally when I meet big customers like you, I can make a lot of money..."

Bach stretched his neck and seemed to feel that the collar was a little tight. He asked aloud: "Don't you need someone to stay at the morgue?"

"Of course not. People who don't need to lie down generally won't come to this hospital; people who lie in are usually not claimed." Betsy blew her nose, "Don't worry, those who come to work here can't survive elsewhere. "..." She shook the bag on her shoulder, "Occasionally, only a few lucky guys can get a pair of coffin boards."

Bach couldn't continue the conversation, because Betsy was obviously one of the "workers here."

Betsy's conversational interest did not decrease at all, as if she didn't care about her own fate: "If you feel sorry for me, just pay me more tips later..."

For the next time, Betsy was almost alone in talking. She talked about her hometown, the treacherous man, and the trivial past stories of the residents in the morgue.

Bach and Valerie had no choice but to walk faster, wanting to get away from these heart-wrenching stories as soon as possible.

Ryan trotted behind them, and about half an hour later, they arrived at the factory shed where Yule once rented.

Due to the accident, the mine has temporarily stopped operating, so there are not many people here.

Bach took out two 50-pound bills from his wallet and handed them to Betsy: "If you can help us find a priest, this hundred pounds will belong to you..."

Betsy took the note in surprise and kissed the man on the note hard.

This made Bach a little uneasy, and he added: "Of course, if you can help us buy a coffin and send it over, then I will give you an additional 20 pounds."

Betsy nodded and ran away like the wind.