HP Winter Memories

Life is an unknown journey, and those past experiences show what kind of life is valuable.But in the end, you can't find any words to describe it, maybe only peace.

—— "My Journey and Memoirs"

It was a sunny afternoon, and the young man with the imprint of growth walked across the green hills, through the dense forest, and headed for a town where he planned to stop for a while.This peaceful town surrounded by nature was originally marked by him on the map where he was going to settle during his travels, but it was also a whim because he was once attracted by its winding streets and stone-stacked appearance from the distant mountains.What's more, finding a place to sit down and have a drink may not be the most comfortable way to travel.

After descending the small hill, there was a slight wind blowing, blowing the young man's already messy black hair.He raised his hand and brushed his hair, just in time to see a young woman holding a white umbrella standing in front of the easel in the distance, and the paintbrush in her hand was carefully carving on the canvas.He noticed that her long hair was curled, and the breeze that made his hair messy caused her hair to fly far away, corresponding to the flying skirt, as if it could just touch the clouds flying like catkins in the sky.What a refreshing sight, the young man thought, every place he walked along the way, the scenery was like an oil painting.Is the woman who painted the painting also fascinated by the scenery like him?The difference is that she left it on the canvas, and he used his own "frame" to turn the woman in this painting into a part of the painting.

Gradually, the roads of the town spread out in front of you. Almost every low-rise house has a small terrace. Fresh flowers and plants are placed between the wrought iron railings and various window frames. They are all separated by neatly trimmed low shrubs.

The young man briskly stepped on the roads made of round stones, and slowly watched the surrounding buildings.This place is quite different from the cities and villages he has visited before, and every place on the journey brings him new feelings.The road that appeared after turning the corner is probably the street where the shops in the town are located. The glass windows of each shop are bright and clean, with various products displayed behind the glass, and the fresh bread exudes a mellow wheat fragrance.

There are more pedestrians on the street than before, but they can't be counted as a lot, but they all look very friendly, and occasionally one or two acquaintances say hello warmly.This even brought him the urge to chat. After inquiring about the town's taverns or places selling coffee just below the main street, the young man decided to stop by to buy some souvenirs.

After picking out one or two gadgets, the young man stopped by chance under a wooden ladder.Next to the ladder stood a row of paint buckets.He put down the suitcase in his hand, and then sat directly on it, staring at the person on the ladder with some surprise and some curiosity.

The person at the top of the ladder, wearing indigo suspender jeans, is working on a sign. With a rubber gloved hand, one picks up the corner of the letter and the other shovels it off vigorously. For a while, the well-coordinated fit and cadence of the hands doesn't seem like he's actually doing a paint job.

After "watching" for nearly 5 minutes, the young man decided to stand up and try to strike up a conversation. He said to the person on the wooden ladder, "Sir. I thought your job was to paint, not scrape."

The painter stopped the spatula according to the sound, then he turned his head and looked down, the hand on the side of the ladder suddenly tightened a bit.In the end, he looked at the people below and said slowly: "Only when it becomes blank first, can we start to write new content again."

While he was talking, the young man looked into his eyes. It was a pair of black eyes that people could never forget at a glance, and it was the black eyes that overlapped with the young man's memory in an instant.Because the young people nowadays, when they were boys, just watched these eyes gradually lose focus in front of them, and gradually become no longer bright.

The two of them didn't speak for a long time, the young man was stunned by the familiar black eyes, and there were more people on the ladder helpless.So, after the latter sighed insignificantly, he turned around and picked up the scraper again, and started the work at hand, and it was obvious that he planned not to give any attention to the young man, as if he hadn't answered just now, just It's like the two have never met before.

The young man didn't speak in a hurry, he was no longer the boy who rushes to speak or likes to be noisy and impulsively speaks without thinking.After a little thought, he could also read the meaning of letting him go in that sentence.But he didn't intend to stop there, and wasn't this just another reason for his trip.

After a pause, he blinked and spoke again:

"Sir, your words are always very helpful." He tried to sound sincere and faithful, "You see, I don't mean to interrupt your work, but I think you have been working for some time , I have already visited a lot of shops on the way here, and I am planning to go to the front to rest my feet at the moment, since we can meet each other by fate, why not go together?"

The spatula in the painter's hand didn't stop at all, and said in a calm tone, "Go away."

The young man laughed because of this sentence, and he didn't feel that he was being chased away at all, "You are still so funny, professor. It seems that you are still as serious as you were back then. You must finish your work before you can come down. I don't mind. Wait here for a while."

"I don't know what you're talking about," the painter began to get impatient because his work was interrupted again, "Since your eyes are not good, are your glasses also a decoration? Please see my profession clearly, not The professors you are talking about are not those idlers. I obviously have work to do. And," he draws his tone, "I also know that people often say that if you are not working, you should not stand for a long time beside the painter. Under the ladder." He also slightly inadvertently threw the dried paint scraps and debris off the top. "So anyway, go wherever you want, but please don't bother me here."

"Haha, so you are still as humorous as ever. If that's the case, I'll sit on the chair across the street and wait for you." The young man said quickly, then he bowed and said in a more earnest tone: "Please, Professor , I will delay your time for a few words after you finish your work, at least let me know your situation these years, especially when everyone thinks you... In short, please."

The painter known as "Professor" did not make any comments on this passage. After a brief pause, he still took a leisurely shovel of the old painted letters on the signboard.The young man immediately took this as a kind of acquiescence, knowing that if he said another word, he would have to disappear. He immediately picked up his suitcase and walked across the street, staring at the ladder without letting go The people on the table were thinking about the next countermeasures rapidly in their minds.

He wasn't sure if one person could solve this problem. He calculated that there were no more than five people in the world who could have an "in-depth friendly" conversation with the person in front of him, and half of them were basically dead.Now he can only figure out countermeasures here alone, although he is convinced that he is no longer the kid who annoyed him and insulted him all day long after all these years of experience, but even if the past is like smoke, it still has a far-reaching impact.

Because in the next few ten minutes, he first realized that he was extremely wise and didn't call his former professor's name directly to confirm whether it was him at the first time, so he changed the opportunity of this conversation, at least in the first battle. success.That's thanks to one of the first things he's learned on the road during these days, and he's clearly a man himself who's been troubled by his own name.

"Septimus, Septimus" he silently memorized the address of his former professor from everyone who passed by and said hello, and he was really superior. The name has a very Roman history when he hears it. He must remember to go back. Looking for Hermione, anyway, I think it sounds much more upscale than the other "Walker, Harry Walker".He pawed at the bangs on his forehead, under which was the famous lightning scar covered with Muggle foundation.

"Oh, Merlin, why do I always have to solve the most difficult problems." He thought quickly whether he needed to inform other people who cared about his former professor as much as he did, and the answer was: no.In this way, those people will come over in person in the next moment; I am afraid that it will not work whether to talk and observe first before sending out a message. This person will definitely take measures to ensure that he will not speak out. After all, he has done it for so long. I thought he was already dead.He continued to think, then only to preemptively strike, he can use keeping this secluded secret as his current biggest bargaining chip in exchange for more information.

Then, he needs to carefully formulate his own questions. If he only has a few words in the "agreed" time, how can he ask more content without the other party feeling offended, even if he thinks the other party is wrong? I felt offended from the moment he showed up.But no matter what, someone else might really ask about the situation with a few words, but this person means a lot to him. As witnessed by Merlin, he will never let this "opportunity" slip away from the tip of his magic wand, he will definitely Be careful what you say, even if you can't talk like a Slytherin, but don't let too much of the usual Gryffindor candidness break the acceptable limit.

"Oh, Merlin!" the young man who called himself Harry ruffled his "thought"-ruffled hair even more when his former professor spotted the painter finally coming down the ladder.He watched helplessly as the person he was waiting for took off his gloves, took off his overalls, and walked towards the bench he was sitting on.Although there is no flying wizard robe in memory, and the person in front of him is not dressed in majestic black at the moment, but the aura of the past has not diminished at all, making people consciously hold their breath and stand upright.

"gentlemen."

"Well, sit down and talk."

The author has something to say: