The Pacifist Necromancer of Hogwarts

When returning this beautiful seven-seater car to the person in charge, Anthony regretfully told the person that the rearview mirror casing had been taken away by a monkey.

The person in charge asked them as usual if they had gone to a nearby zoo. At the same time, he glanced at the clean and tidy back seat through the window and nodded approvingly at them.

Six students stood nearby with bags on their backs, proudly taking credit for the cleanup.

Since the door key to leave was set at eight o'clock in the evening, they still walked around casually. The street lamps illuminated the damp road quietly, and the moon peeked out from the large clouds from time to time. Smoke was rising from the light brown pointed stone brick roof, and through the white engraved curtains, they could see people relaxing and talking and laughing on their chairs, and the dinner was shining with grease on their plates.

Most of the shops have closed, only a few restaurants and pubs on the street corners still have lights on, and customers are sitting inside chatting. The waiter bent down to wipe the table, the light shining on the back of his sparse hair.

Lights are like candles in school that never burn out, Ian said.

They were eating mutton and carrots, Cedric said.

They were standing on tiptoes or bending down, avoiding the advertising slogans posted on the glass windows, looking longingly into the restaurant, like six hungry and cold little match girls.

Anthony asked, Do you want to have dinner?

No, Professor. Cedric straightened up, I'm not hungry yet.

I'm not hungry either, Angelina said. I must have eaten too many almonds and toffees.

Anthony nodded: Then we'd better get out of this window before kind people ask us if we need help. He pointed to the piece of glass.

While the students stared wide-eyed at the Muggle bistro, their breath left six white patches of moisture on the window glass, each one looking cold and hungry.

…

Even though everyone said they were not hungry, when the evening breeze brought the sweet smell of roasted chestnuts, Anthony still gave each of them three pounds and told them to take the initiative to talk to the stall owner if they wanted to buy anything.

Roger and Annie were the first to buy two packs of sugar-roasted chestnuts. They chatted with the stall owner for a few words and hurried back carrying paper bags.

“He asked us if we were tourists,” said Roger. “I told him we were students, and he asked where the school was, and Anne told him it was in Scotland. He said he had a cousin who also went to school in Scotland, and asked what county we were in. Yes. Professor, which county are we in?

Anthony mused: People usually don't ask in such detail... but if you really meet them, you can tell them that this is top secret, and if you leak it, you will go to court.

Professor, doesn't this violate the protection law? Anne asked.

People usually don't believe it. Anthony shrugged. Besides, we are not implying any supernatural powers. There are always some top secrets in the world.

…

When they passed by a closed jam and honey shop, Ian's reluctant appearance outside the door caught the attention of the shopkeeper who was clearing the account, and he opened the door and asked him if he wanted anything.

Ian glanced at Anthony uncertainly, and with his encouraging nod, he stuttered: I...I only have three pounds.

You are a student, right? the shopkeeper asked in a soft accent, with a warm smile on his long face covered by a beard. Three pounds may not be enough to buy my honey, but come in and have a look, young man, we can chat. Chat. What kind of jam do you like?

Hinberries and raspberries. Ian said, his tone gradually becoming more confident, But I still want to see honey, sir. Is there any special honey here?

Where do you come from, young man?

Yeah - top secret. Ian said.

What?

Anthony saw Ian's pleading eyes and said, North, sir. We are from Scotland.

Oh, haha! the shop owner said, then I dare say that the honey I have here is very special! Local bees collect local nectar, right? Wildflowers, clovers, and other kinds of flowering plants... right away It's winter, sir, and bees don't like to be out in the winter, so this is pretty much the last fresh honey you'll find. Come on, have a taste.

He enthusiastically took out the small wooden honey spoon, opened the locked sample cabinet, and took out a jar of honey that shone with amber light.

Try it, it's definitely different from Scotland. The shop owner said, I'm not boasting, the honey here is carefully selected. Look, I reserved this place specially for myself. Last year I sold all my honey. It’s all gone, so I have to go to the supermarket to buy their honey to survive the winter. Oh, supermarket, they only sell the worst stuff at sky-high prices!” He frowned and shook his head.

I think there must be supermarkets that don't do this. Anthony couldn't help but justify the name of the supermarket. The goods in the supermarket are all carefully selected. After all, if residents don't buy them and the supermarket cannot sell them after purchasing them, it will lose money. .”

The shopkeeper was stunned for a moment: Of course, sir, of course. He looked at Anthony in confusion.

It's too strong, Ian said after taking a sip, and a bit sour. The honey has been stored for too long.

The shop owner said somewhat unhappily: This is the characteristic of our local honey, young man. It is the floral fragrance.

No, that must be— Ian stopped. The shopkeeper's eyes widened as if he was being slandered, and he looked at him hurt.

Ian changed his words with some uncertainty: I don't know. Maybe the honey here is really different from the honey at my house.

Of course it's different! said the shopkeeper. Think of the distance between us - where in Scotland are you from?

Top secret! Several students said in unison.

Okay. The shopkeeper shrugged, It's very far anyway, right? We have different habits, different accents, and of course we have different honey...

Ian walked out of the shop in a daze, carrying a small glass bottle of honey, and spent all three pounds.

Halfway there, he suddenly unscrewed the lid, scratched it with his fingernails and tasted it.

No! he shouted, This is last summer's honey, just filtered!

Did I kick your calf from behind? Anne said, Professor Anthony also coughed.

Ian said sadly: He seems to be such a nice person! And - I didn't expect that Muggles can also lie!

The classmates looked around suspiciously at the word Muggle and gestured to him to shut up.

Anthony also looked around and saw no one. The activation time of the portkey is coming, and they are walking along this quiet path to the most sparsely populated place.

Professor Anthony— Ian wailed.

Don't be too sad, Mr. Williams. Anthony said, Compared to when you set out, you have an extra bottle of honey and a little more experience, but you haven't lost any money. Isn't it easier to think about it this way?

I will never trust a Muggle again, Ian said.

You just think Muggles shouldn't be smart enough to trick you, Mark commented.

Okay, Ian, Cedric said, Weren't you deceived by Li Jordan last semester? Will you never believe in wizards again?

How is that the same? Ian looked at the honey jar sadly, My aunt will laugh at me.

Then let her laugh at her, Roger said nonchalantly. She hasn't been tricked by Muggles yet.

At least this is honey, Anthony said, remembering the elixir of life he had bought.

Put away two thousand first, and then make up another two thousand later!