[HP Doujin] 1943

At the age of 11, Francis returned to England from France to go to school.He was then an unremarkable boy, a shy, silent, tall, thin, freckled boy who looked, in the caustic words of his older sister Victoria Stuart, "like a bird." Malnourished Bowtruckle".

His two older sisters, Clarissa and Victoria, grew up in the Stuart Manor, and seeing them in beautiful dresses, reciting poetry and playing the harp openly in front of guests made him feel very inferior.

He was the only boy in the family, and his conservative father favored him in many ways.Of all the children, he was the harshest to Francis. If he made the same mistake as his sister, he would punish Francis many times more severely.

When Francis was young, he didn't understand that his father did this out of respect for him. He always thought that his father did this because he didn't like him, because he was not as good as his sisters.But Victoria and Clarissa understood their father's intentions.His father only let Francis live in Paris with his mother since he was a child, and paid for him to travel to different countries every summer. They were full of resentment against this brother in the early morning, so they bullied him everywhere they had the opportunity.

Francis never felt that he was a privileged class since he was a child. On the contrary, he felt that his life was extremely painful.

He also couldn't live a comfortable life after school.During the summer vacation, because he wanted him to study hard without interruption, his father asked him to live alone in London instead of living in Stuart Manor with his sisters.In fact, he particularly liked Stuart Manor.He likes the endless wasteland there, the vast sea to the north of the manor, the sound of the waves at night, the starry sky above the sea, and the smell of hyacinths from the valley... Although he has only been there a few times, these The beautiful scenery will stay in his heart for a long time.

He is very gifted in language.Having grown up in France, his fluent French allowed him to easily pretend to be a French native.After returning to England for two years, his English has gradually become a pure London accent.He didn't have many friends, because when other children were playing Quidditch on a toy broom in the garden, he was locked in the house by old Mr. Stuart to learn ancient runes and recite boring and difficult magic spells with his tutor. history.After entering Hogwarts, he learned mermaid, Bulgarian, Spanish, Italian and German.

He didn't have many friends at school either.When other students were still struggling with OWLs or NEWTs, he had to complete all homework in half the time of others, and then was forced by old Mr. Stuart to watch every debate and vote on important bills in the Ministry of Magic, Attend every important trial of the Wizengamot, and write down thick notes for old Mr. Stuart to review.

The old Mr. Stuart always said to him sternly: "Your language talent will help you become an upright, outstanding and excellent politician, and make contributions to the British magic circle in diplomacy and negotiation. In this way, you He deserves to be called a real Stuart."

He knew his father was a true English gentleman.In his mind, this rigid and stern man was either in the Ministry of Magic or in the study, accompanied by assistants and lawyers, and he smelled like a good cigar.

His father had a subtle influence on him, allowing him to develop a non-arrogant, non-arrogant attitude, strict self-discipline, and a stable and low-key personality since he was a child.His father made him understand since he was a child that the nobility does not lie in enjoying more privileges than ordinary people, but in paying more than ordinary people, cultivating a tenacious and forbearing heart, and always maintaining the chivalry of the medieval era.

Because of his upbringing, he was a lonely and melancholy boy since childhood.During the summer vacation, he spent countless long afternoons alone on a bench in Hyde Park with a book in his hand.Hyde Park is a quiet and comfortable place. In the noisy and gloomy London, it can make him feel a peaceful green shade, as if he has returned to Stuart Manor.

Every time he reads a book, he is completely immersed in it, so he didn't notice it until a little girl in a blue taffeta dress stood next to him and stared at him for 16 minutes during the summer vacation when he was 10 years old. She raised her eyes from the thick book.

The little girl in the blue dress looked a little bold.He was immersed in the history of goblin rebellion and didn't want to talk to her, but the little girl suddenly giggled, her dark eyes were like crescent moons, filled with sparkling light.

"You're a wizard." She pointed to his book. "You're reading a magic book."

He put down the book, nodded, and said, "Are you a little witch?"

"Yes." She said happily, pointing to the bench where he was sitting, "Can I sit next to you?"

He preferred to continue reading alone, but out of politeness, he nodded and stuffed the few books beside him into the schoolbag at his feet: "Please sit down."

"You're reading every time I come over," chirped the little girl, "my mother takes me here every Monday and Friday. She and her friends go shopping at Harrods, so I'm playing here alone. I've been paying attention to you for almost a month. Do you have no friends like me?"

Francis didn't want to admit to this little girl that he had no friends.He shook his head and said, "No, I have to read in the afternoon and play with my friends in the evening."

"Oh." The little girl said, pouted her mouth a little unhappy, suddenly stretched out her hand in front of him, and said mischievously, "Guess what I have in my hand. If you guess right, I'll give it to you."

"I don't know," he said.

The little girl showed a hurt expression, looking very wronged, and looked at him with blinking eyes.Francis moved slightly in his heart, regretting his indifference just now, so he pretended to be thinking hard, and said, "A fly?"

The little girl shook her head, pursed her lips and smiled.

"A poop?" Francis teased her deliberately.

The little girl frowned and shook her head, and said triumphantly, "I knew you wouldn't be able to guess."

She slowly opened her palm, but there was nothing in her palm.Francis looked at her inexplicably, and she focused on her palm. After a while, a faint mist rose from her palm, conjuring a snow-white camellia out of thin air.

She took his hand, carefully put the camellia she conjured into his hand, raised her face, and showed a bright smile: "This camellia is for you. I'm Elizabeth. What's your name?"

Seeing that he was silent, she said again: "This is what a gypsy sister taught me. She said that camellias use magic power. If a boy gives a camellia to a girl he likes, then the girl will never be married." Will leave him." She pointed to the other end of Hyde Park: "It's the gypsy sister dancing in the square over there."

"Thank you." He pinched the flowers, feeling amused in his heart, this little girl really took those homeless people's nonsense seriously, "I'm Francis."

Afterwards, he found out that this six-year-old girl really believed in everything, she was so stupid, and she wouldn't doubt it if he told a lie and sold her out.Every Monday and Friday that August the little girl would visit him in Hyde Park.He always thought she was too noisy, but good upbringing would not allow him to lose his temper with a girl, so he had to bear it silently.

He basically reads by himself, ignoring her whining.Sometimes she said she was tired by herself, so she would lie on the lawn in the sun and sleep.Once, because it had just rained the day before, the grass was wet, so she sat on a chair to sleep.After a while, her head dropped into his arms.He pushed her impatiently, but she crawled on top of him again, and simply lay in his arms, sleeping even more soundly.

The little girl in his arms was breathing softly, a strand of chestnut hair hanging down her face, fluttering with her warm breath.Her body was also warm, so soft, like some kind of furry animal.Francis was holding the book, but for some reason, he couldn't read a single word. The words that once held a great attraction for him seemed to suddenly become dull and meaningless.

He stretched out his hand carefully, slightly parted the hair on her face, and gently scratched her face with his fingertips.Her skin was so soft and delicate, he seemed to touch it again.He looked at her peaceful sleeping face, and felt that her face was as cute as an angel, with a seductive blush on her lips, and he really wanted to get close to her and take a bite.

He was taken aback by his own thoughts.He tapped his head violently and shook his head. What was he thinking?This child is seven years younger than himself.

He was completely in no mood to read any more.

After a few weeks, they have become very familiar with each other.Every time she would jump up and down to Hyde Park, she would call his name from afar: "Francis! Francis!"

Even after decades, the figure of her running is still reflected in his mind as clearly as yesterday's memory: she ran so fast, with her arms spread out, like a swift cat, those pair of shoes she liked very much , the red flats with frayed heels clattered across the rain-soaked road and flew all the way towards him.

The 16-year-old boy, wearing a black coat, indulged in this little girl who was neither big nor small and thoughtless, and threw himself into his arms, and laughed softly.

She can always dig out all kinds of candies from his schoolbag.The candies at home were all sent directly from Honeydukes. He didn't like to eat them, but the store still sent them every week as usual, so he brought them all to her.

In his more than ten years of life, everything was suppressed and restrained, and he had never seen a person who laughed without any grievances like Elizabeth.In her body, he realized for the first time that a girl can be so unadorned, enthusiastic, simple, sweet and warm, and that is a philosophy worth pondering for a long time.

He didn't know many girls, but most of them were as reserved and serious as Laura, with their hair combed perfectly, skirts not a little dusty, and their speech and demeanor always gentle and polite.Elizabeth hadn't read much, and she would never sit on the sofa with Laura's elegance and quietness, talking to him about politics, history, and philosophy.But Elizabeth itself is a form of natural philosophy that he has never understood. Her life is so warm, pure, sincere and beautiful. There is something in her that comes from the origin of human life that she is unaware of. It is full of wildness and innocence. , Simple taste, attracted him like a deadly black hole.

He was already 16 years old that year, and there were many throbbing in his heart that a 9-year-old girl could not understand.At one point, he jokingly said to her, "Lizzie, will you be my girlfriend?"

Lizzie blinked and said, "Okay, but you have to make sure you only like me."

"it is good."

"You are not allowed to like other girls."

"Okay," he said.He clearly knew that this 9-year-old child didn't know the true meaning of a girlfriend, but there was still a burst of excitement in his heart.

Lizzie thought about it again and said, "Then you will marry me in the future."

He laughed, took her hand, and said gently: "Okay, I promise you. After we get married, I will give you a camellia that never fades. You said so, so you will never leave me."

The London wind gently blows across the boulevard in Hyde Park, and the leaves are rolled and fluttered in the wind, like layers of waves, making soft rustling sounds, as gentle as a never-ending dream .

A Stuart man always walks the talk.Many years later, he finally married her, and he kept the camellia that she conjured up with magic, and took it as the original one, and copied thousands of camellias with magic, blooming all over the world. Stuart House and the valley beyond the hills.

She had asked him why he planted so many camellias, with a tentative tone that wasn't very well disguised: "Are you commemorating your ex-wife?"

He made up a story casually, and said casually, don't all women like this kind of talk.

Later, he ordered a platinum camellia hairpin from the goblin in Gringotts.This is a camellia that never fades.When he gave it to her, he said, "Don't you like camellias very much?"

Her face was a bit deliberate, and the shiny metal shone brightly in her floral chestnut bun.She said lightly: "Women like this kind of flower."

With such a simple sentence, the past promises are forever forgotten in the dust.

Why does he hate Tom so much?If it weren't for Tom's intervention and Victoria's extremely powerful forgetting spell, maybe his and Elizabeth's life would be simple and beautiful. He would wait for her to grow up, marry her, have a child with her, and live with her. A life of happiness and peace.

If it hadn't been for Tom's intervention, how could that silly girl Elizabeth have fallen hopelessly in love with him and pushed all of their lives off the track.

As a child he had read a philosophy book called Phaedo.According to the philosophical theory of ancient Greece, everything in this world has its opposite side and must be produced by its opposite side.For example, when things become bigger, they must come from small things; when things become better, they must come from bad things; justice must also come from injustice, and another example is sleep and waking, life and death. , everything we know is opposite.

He once had a heated debate on this issue with his Greek teacher.He does not fully agree with this theory, death is indeed produced by life, but no one can prove whether life is produced by death.He believes that there is still a state of chaos in this world. In this chaotic space, there is no human cognition and concepts, only a pure vitality.For example, babies come from this chaos, and love comes from this pure chaos.Love and hate are two opposites.But he believes that love does not necessarily come from hate, and hate does not necessarily give birth to love.

However, when he re-read the notes on the history of Greek philosophy many years later, it occurred to him that perhaps the ancient Greek scholars were discussing the strongest hatred and the highest love, rather than the kind between a mortal couple. Ordinary feelings of barely getting by.

The most persistent fire of hatred must spring from the ashes of love, and the most ardent love must spring from the flame of its opposite hatred.That's why his fire of hatred for Tom has never been extinguished in his lifetime, because Tom has ruined the only love in his life.This is why Elizabeth's love for Tom is so hot and there is no point of no return, because their love is based on the bones of hatred.