The Heavens: Hogwarts Transfer Students

The last time, the owner of the melody found by the Book of Mora was a polite old gentleman. He was not hunted down, but just starved for five days, not far from death.

The old gentleman's name was Henry Hendon, and he looked bloated in several old clothes found in the trash cans. After entering the room, he took off three clothes, revealing a figure as thin as a skeleton, and the skin on his neck was frozen blue. He apologized for every wet footprint he left on the floor and said he would clean it up before leaving.

Linde invited him to dinner.

The homeless old man sat at the table, bowed his head and prayed, "Thank the Lord for giving us food, and thank the generous and kind people for accepting us. May the light of the Lord shine on us forever, Amen."

After saying his prayers, he began to eat. He was very hungry, but he ate slowly, not ravenously. Dignity is more important to him than life.

Mr. Hunton, who had an appetite too good for an eighty-year-old man, spent an hour finishing the meal with empty dishes stacked high at hand.

"You are the last customer." Linde said, "The business of the wine shop is over, but we can still provide you with three glasses of wine. Have you decided what to drink?"

Mr. Hunton ate a lot, his dry and slack cheeks became rosy, his straight back slightly collapsed, his cloudy eyeballs showed a dull light, and now he was like a skin bag filled with water, paralyzed The chair is up.

"Drinking your wine will make your wish come true, right?"

“It’s not always possible,” Lind said. “We’ve had customers who have made very outlandish requests to put Mount Everest in the Rift Valley.”

Mr Hunton laughed.

"I don't have a wish, I'm old, I've lived too long. You may not believe it. I was a billionaire last year. But my precious collection has become Gilderoy Lockhart !” He burst out laughing, “Then the stocks, they evaporated overnight like a dumb ass. Only the debt didn’t go away. The banks took everything from me, God send them to hell.”

"I'm sorry to let you go through the ups and downs of life," Linde reassured him, "but don't worry, grand music will not replace real history."

"Don't feel sorry for me, kind young man. I only have one request, can you let me stay here overnight?" Hendon, who was still heroic just now, was a little embarrassed at the moment, "I don't have the energy to fight those poisonous bugs for the abandoned apartment upstairs."

Linde looked around the tavern. He planned to let it be piled up with thick dust and fade away in his memory like this Christmas holiday. However, if someone can continue to operate, he and his friends will also have one more in the future. An old place to remember.

"You can own this tavern." Linde pushed the key over, "The food in the cellar will be replenished automatically, and four rooms on the second floor are closed, so there is no need to clean them."

Henry Hunton was a little surprised, "I'm just an aging Muggle. I don't know magic, how can I run the magical Three Cups Wine House?"

Linde smiled, "Magic is nothing special. What is great is people's beliefs. I believe you can be a good shopkeeper."

Hunton didn't despise this deceitful statement. The old man has experienced too much, and now he doesn't believe in anything, and he believes in everything.

"Tell me about this tavern, what's so unusual about it?"

Linde told him, "The wine shop has its own ideas. It will travel all over the world to find people in distress. The owner's duty is to provide food and accommodation if necessary. Of course, there are three dreams for customers, You can choose to make the dream come true, or just stay in the fantasy."

"Can I help them too?" Hunton's eyes lit up.

"...Of course." Linde smiled, "in a special way."

Sweat broke out on Hendon's cheeks, and he was full of vitality, "That's great."

Linde and the others spent the last night in the wine house. Hendon was busy in the hall, gently removing the white cloth from the table, checking the inventory in the cellar, filling the wine cabinet, and handwriting several menus. Pre-prepare ingredients for tomorrow in the kitchen.

This eighty-year-old man was out of breath, his sweat gleamed with oil, his cheeks stretched more and more, his eyes became brighter and brighter, and his face was drier than chalk.

By the early hours of the morning Henry Hunton had finally made all the preparations for the opening. He had done everything he could, and he must have kept a tavern in his youth. Not only does he have food and wine, but he also has many stories. From the end of World War I to the 1990s, Henry experienced wars, parting, homelessness, getting rich, marriage, widowhood... the scenery of the world and the joys and sorrows of the world, I have seen everything.

He believed that he would be able to manage the three cups of wine well. This extraordinary career made his heart young again, beating so fiercely that it seemed to fly away from his chest.

In the end, the new owner, an old man, sat at the bar and poured himself a small glass of gin, drank it all in one gulp, went upstairs carefully, picked an empty room, and lay down on the bed after a simple wash, praying to God Did a prayer.

"Lord, thank you for giving me life, thank you for enabling me to do meaningful careers, and I will save suffering until death." Henry Hunton closed his eyes with good expectations.

Its daybreak.

Linde gently opened the door and walked to the bed. Malika and the others have already woken up, washed up, and packed their luggage. Gathered while calling his name.

"Linde, you are here... Ah, Mr. Hunton?"

"Dead. He left at 3:45 in the morning." Linde nodded.

"it's a pity."

"Is everything packed?" Linde brushed lightly on the cheek of the corpse, Henry Hunton's vicissitudes and decayed face became moist again, as if he was just sleeping.

"It's packed." The girls nodded.

"Let's go."

A group of four people dressed neatly, led their respective suitcases, walked out of the mottled green paint door of the wine house, and looked back at this warm house that had been with them for two weeks.

A ball of orange flames floated from Linde's palm and landed on the door. The fire ignited everything, including the tables and chairs, the drinks, and the corpses of the deceased.

The fire is like a reserved flower bud, which only wraps the three-glass wine house, and does not spread outwards. Slight black smoke rises in the early morning in London and dissipates under the snow-falling clouds. Many pedestrians noticed the fire, called the police one after another, and gathered here.

Before everyone gathered, Linde opened two portals to the junction, one to the Weeping Peninsula and the other to Huasheng Snowfield.

We all know it's time to say goodbye.

Melina stepped forward to hug Linde, her flesh and blood were soft, and her hair smelled like gardenias.

"time to go."

She didn't let go.

"Okay, okay." Linde stroked her forehead lightly, "When you become an excellent spellcaster, you can join the Tower of Books, and then you will look down and see you."

Melina nodded, "Goodbye." She turned and walked through the portal.

Millicent seemed to hesitate, but she was still the valiant female swordsman, "Linde, if you need me, please call me at any time. I will become stronger and protect everything about you."

"Are you still looking for Marlenia?"

"Yes. I can feel an unusual connection with her. I want to talk to her. Maybe she knows about my past."

"If you can't beat her, remember to call me."

Millicent's thin and pale cheeks flushed suddenly, she nodded vigorously, and then dodged into the portal.

The teleportation gate was closed, and many people were already pouring over on the street.

Malika stretched out her hand to Linde, her sea-blue eyes were full of smiles, "Come home with me."

"It's too old to hold hands." Linde ignored her, walked straight forward for a while and turned back, Malika still stood where she was, with her hands towards him.

Linde walked back silently, "This is not an example." He said.

"OK."

The two young men walked away from the desolate neighborhood step by step against the firefighting crowd and traffic.

On the same day, many mainstream media around the world jointly reported a fire in London.

Only one tavern was said to be damaged at the scene, and the fire did not spread to businesses less than a foot away. From the ruins of the fire, it can be vaguely identified that this is the famous Three Cups Travel Wine House. An elderly male corpse was found on the second floor of the ruins, and no one claimed it.

Three Cups Wine House was destroyed in an obscure corner of London. A legend ended here.

But the matter did not end there. About seven days later, new witnesses began to identify this magical traveling tavern and told their own stories with the tavern.

"The magic wine house still exists!"