I, Hogwarts Week Two

Chapter 136 My conscience, my conscience, ah!My conscience! ! !

There was an inexplicable smile on the old headmaster's face, and he patted Owen on the head. This kid seemed to like nesting dolls very much.

But—Harry be Harry!It doesn't matter.Anyway, Harry probably won't come to France!

The old headmaster doted on him.

After passing through the glamorous sea of ​​flowers in full bloom.

Before Owen could continue to enjoy the scenery, a rather burly woman walked over from a distance.

She was almost as tall as Hagrid, with a very handsome olive face.A pair of black and big watery eyes, and a very pointed nose.

The hair is combed back and tied into a shiny bun at the base of the neck.

She shone from head to toe in a black satin dress, with many rich opals gleaming around her neck and in her thick fingers.

The person coming was none other than Madame Maxime, the principal of Beauxbatons School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

"Welcome." Her gentle voice was like the gentle wind blowing from the mountains.

In accordance with French tradition, Professor Dumbledore kissed the hand.

As for Owen, his eyes stayed on Madame Maxime, a woman with blue eyes and long waterfall-like silver hair.A girl who exudes amazing charm.

Fleur Delacour, who has Veela bloodlines.

Well~ It is indeed very beautiful.

Frankly speaking, Fleur was the most beautiful girl Owen had ever met.And he seemed to have an indescribable affection for this girl with Veela blood.

just like.

They are like family members.

Weird, but absolutely impossible to be true.

"Hello, Fleur Delacour, it's an honor to meet you!" She walked forward with a smile and extended her hand gracefully. (French)

"Hello, I'm Harry -" (French)

"Ahem, it's not good to always bear other people's names, little Owen." Dumbledore coughed twice and reminded. (English)

"Er—well, I'm Owen, Owen Sanchez." He held hands with Fleur, and the other party smiled awe-inspiringly, seeming to like Owen's 'prank' very much. (French, and always French.)

"You speak French really well, and seem to have a Parisian accent."

Furong's voice is very pleasant, with a husky feeling and a faint charm.

"Accent?" Hearing the sound, Owen was suddenly taken aback.

Young and small leave home and the eldest returns home, but the local accent remains the same?

he.

"Strictly speaking, maybe, maybe, maybe I'm French?" Owen rubbed his chin and thought about it, hey!It seems to be true.

Mom!I seem to be really French!

knock!Became a traitor.

"Are you French?" Fleur was very surprised by this, and then asked, "Then why did you go to Hogwarts?"

She cautiously glanced at Dumbledore who was discussing something with Mrs. Maxim.

Although that gentleman does have a great reputation.

But a Frenchman, went to the British magic school. I always felt weird there.

Moreover, Owen~ This name sounds familiar!

I seem to have heard it somewhere.

"Family reasons, family reasons." How embarrassing!Owen said with sloppy eyes.

Good guy, if you keep talking, you will really become a traitor.

Look, before he said that those little wizards from Bubaston School surrendered as soon as they were beaten, and they had no sense of accomplishment at all.

Co-author, I'm the fucking fastest one on the rails.

Damn Daying, crazy PUA me, I almost thought I was the old London Union Jack.

It turns out to be the white flag of old Paris!

???

knock!This is not as good as the Zhengmi flag!

Hearing the sound, in Furong's eyes, the enthusiasm and its astonishing speed began to decline.It is estimated that the young lady has already marked Owen as a traitor in her heart.

Okay - slightly embarrassing.

However, it doesn't matter.

If we had stayed in France back then, it would have definitely been a red flag for old Paris! ·Long live the society L('w')┘三└('w').

What does your Fifth Republic have to do with me.

----

After a few pleasantries.

Madame Maxime led them into a splendid building.

In something like the Great Hall of Hogwarts.A small banquet was held for them.

Only then did Owen know that although Beauxbaton School of Witchcraft and Wizardry had a holiday two weeks later than Hogwarts, it had already closed before July [-]th.

Only students can choose to stay in school.

And all Irving saw were students who chose to stay in school. Most of them had family matters or some other special reasons. Students would not leave school one after another until the end of July.But there are still some left.

However, although the number of people was small, the old Parisian momentum could not be lost. About dozens of senior students attended the banquet.

They sang the school song loudly and gracefully in the auditorium.

The melody is inexplicably like a Marseillaise, full of power in its euphemism, and actively calls on generations of Bubaston students to move forward into the future.

Mmmmm - not bad indeed.

The (fake) Owen, who can deduct a hole in the soles of his feet, turns white for a while, and turns black for a while. (As usual), Owen never expected that Dumbledore's first stop would be Bubaston!This made him, a French-born man with an old French Muggle father and an unknown mother, a second ghost, with a disturbed conscience.

The most embarrassing thing is that as soon as the opposite song comes up, he knows how to sing it.

But he wasn't singing Bubaston's school song.But the Marseillaise.

Ah!

No!

my conscience!My tortured conscience!

Under the glorious righteousness of the songs born in the era of the Great Revolution, a certain monster is about to show its original shape.

To hide my embarrassment and to reiterate my position.

After the singing, Owen, who was breaking his head in the spirit of fighting songs, stood up suddenly, and opened his mouth to play a version of the Hogwarts school song, the theme song of the 1940 Tour de France armored car competition.

Lao Tzu was born as a Daming man and died as a Daming ghost. Even if he was reincarnated, he would still be the soul of the Celestial Dynasty.Merely French.

Stand up, my fragile conscience!

See, Owen seemed to be acting like a demon, and Principal Dumbledore was taken aback.Then before he opened his mouth, he quickly reached out his hand, grabbed him, and pressed him firmly on the chair.

It can be seen that the old principal is quite anxious.

To translate this look in Owen's words, it probably means - don't be ashamed, this is in Bubaston, you are shameless, Hogwarts wants more!

After pressing Owen, Dumbledore continued to chat with Mrs. Maxim with a smile. The two seemed to be talking about something like a game, but the other party was obviously conflicted, and seemed to be concerned about the recent French platoon event in England. Feel worried. And dissatisfied.

This kept Dumbledore from discussing the topic too deeply.

As Owen said, he should spend more time with the principals of these magic schools.

The matter of the competition can be put next year, and he is not in a hurry.

After not discussing those grand things, the two principals who have dedicated their lives to education naturally talked about the students around them.

Hmm, even the wizarding world can't escape the daily life of relatives comparing each other like New Year's Eve.

Mrs. Maxim spoke highly of her outstanding student Fleur, saying that she was the best student of Bubaston in a century.

Professor Dumbledore was obviously much more modest. He said in an ambiguous and cryptic tone that Owen might be the best student in the history of Hogwarts Millennium School.

While talking, the two principals suddenly laughed.

There were inexplicably more sparks in his eyes.

Owen knew that an invisible war was about to begin.

And as two important people in this war, Owen and Fu Rong walked out of the auditorium after a simple fight.

Don’t bring the kids with you when adults are competing, okay?

very tired.

"Mrs. Maxim told me to take the guests to visit the school." Fleur shook her long silver hair like a waterfall.

Smiling proudly and proudly, "Look at how Hogwarts compares to yours."

"Hmm - is it warmer than Hogwarts?" Owen, who was walking in the garden, felt the sunshine from the south of France, and his whole body was warm.

"There is no time when the temperature is this high at Hogwarts."

"Is it cold?" Owen's sudden brain circuit caused Fu Rong to be a little stunned for a moment. Before she could say the words that might require mutual confrontation, she was stillborn.

"Cold?" Owen showed an embarrassed yet smiling expression, "It's only over 20 degrees in summer and over 20 degrees below zero in winter."

"The black lake in front of the school is frozen solid for at least four months a year, and a layer of ice forms on the water surface for another two months."

"So exaggerated?" Fleur was a little shocked. There was also a river outside Bubaston's manor, but that river would not freeze.

"You will know when you live for a year next year." Owen replied lightly.

Then, the two of them walked among the flowers, some talking.

They walked through small and magnificent buildings, and finally came to the Quidditch pitch.

"Hi, over there." When the two of them strolled in the sea of ​​flowers and enjoyed a beautiful life alone.

Suddenly, a rough voice from the sky interrupted everything!

Then a tall, rough-looking, strong man rode a broom across the sky and landed directly in front of Owen.

"I know you."

"You're that Owen, right? The shameless guy who attacked Kuresi and Mazuh. I saw your picture in the newspaper. What's your name?"

"Harry Potter!" Owen opened his mouth.

"You're fooling me! I know your name." The boy threw the broomstick aside and pulled out the wand from the inside of his robe.To Owen.

"Oh! Am I so famous?" Owen grinned, but the look in the boy's eyes turned into a kind of provocation, a kind of sarcasm.

Why did he know Owen.

It's not the battle in London, now the whole French wizards are questioning the teaching level of Beauxbaton School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

They don't care about the "Secrecy Act"!

The only thing they care about is why several young wizards on their side can't beat a British guy?

The writing is so dangerous, I feel that if I encounter readers in the more serious history section, they will definitely scold me.