Finally, after taking her mother's advice, Aurora wrapped the items in a piece of floral grey felt from the bottom of the cupboard, tied them in a relatively unsightly knot, and placed them in the kitchen. Next to the window facing the backyard clearing.
Although they need these fresh foods in all respects, it does not mean that they will eat them regardless of their origins.
She didn't know why, but she always felt that these inexplicable things had something to do with the boy she just saw in the backyard, so she put them there.
After all this was done, Aurora's fingers were still stained with some icing sugar that had just been scraped from some soft dessert because of packing these things, and she put it in her mouth and tentatively licked it with the tip of her tongue. , tastes as good as expected, with a silky creamy aroma.
Supper is ready-made after lunch. The small fish found in the creek in the morning floats half-dead in the lead bucket behind the kitchen door. Aurora tried to catch them, but unfortunately the scales of the small fish were extremely slippery. She tried several times without success. Instead, the fish's tail threw fishy water on her face.
"Ross?" The mother's voice came softly, "Let me come, you are still too young."
Maybe it was because she had lost the clear world for too long, and Mrs. Field's sense of touch and hearing became very sharp, but her body was always weak, so she didn't get out of bed and walk around, except when cooking. Aurora doesn't know what the family used to live on, but she's been curious since she came here.
Mrs. Field was nearly blind and had trouble taking care of herself. Aurora is only seven years old, and she can't expect her to do any work to support the family.
But one thing worth pondering about is that even though they were so poor, they did not succumb to begging on the streets. Although life was far from rich, it was barely enough to make ends meet. Every time Aurora went to the market to buy something, Mrs. Field would always find a few small denomination notes from under her pillow and hand them to her. .
She always said that Aurora has become a lot more obedient and sensible since she accidentally drowned last time. Aurora used the same words to prevaricate every time - "I almost thought I would never see my mother again, so I will never dare again".
This reason is undoubtedly convincing, and it is the only explanation Aurora can think of.
Aurora stood by and watched for a while, and after she was sure that Mrs. Field would not be cut off despite her slow movements, she started to turn around to set the table.
At this moment, there was a knock on the door in the direction of the living room, polite and reserved.
Mother put down the knife in her hand, and turned her ear to confirm: "Ross, someone seems to be here. Maybe it's Mr. Ashley, go take a look."
Aurora put down the rag, wiped her hands on the towel hanging behind the door, then walked over to the door lock and asked, "Who is it?"
"Myerson Ashley. Got your mail."
It turned out to be the postman who came every month.
Aurora opened the door while saying thank you, but was shocked by the person in front of her. The tone of the word that jumped to her mouth was deformed in the shrill and tender voice of the exclusive child, and it was artificially raised a tone. Another knot tied at the end.
The person in front of him can't be a postman, even a seven-year-old child can come to this conclusion.
He was wearing an exaggerated violet-colored robe that hung down to the ground. The smooth and shiny robe was spread on the tips of the young grass on the ground. On top of his head was a pointed hat, the same color as the robe on his body. He looks like he may be in his fifties, the hair on his temples is mottled in black and white, and his beard is pulled up humorously to the sides because of the smile at the corners of his mouth.
Forgive her for not having the infinite curiosity that a child should have. Even if the other party dresses up like a Santa Claus whose clothes are dyed the wrong color, when Aurora slowly recovers from the shock, she subconsciously just wants to close the door quickly.
The pointed hat first pulled the door with his hand, and his tone was full of reproach like a loving elder: "Oh, impatient little guy. Wait, don't you want your mail?"
At that moment, Aurora wanted to ask Mrs. Field to help, but she held back. After all, in Mrs. Field's situation, it was impossible to expect her to protect anything, and calling her out like this would only make her more worried.
Aurora glanced at him cautiously, and tried her best to retract herself behind the door panel, staring at the email in his hand, wondering whether she should take it or not, or she would just shut the door resolutely. However, although this person does not look strong, he is surprisingly strong. Aurora secretly tried to shake the door panel, but unfortunately he did not move.
"Are you a postman?" Aurora asked softly.
"Temporary." The other party winked at her, his eyes squinted like crescent moons, and he looked very kind, "This is the mail delivered on time every month. Mr. Ashley broke his leg two days ago, so the Fields The mail will be delivered by me."
"What about the other families?" Aurora caught the strangeness in the other party's words.
"Oh, that looks like they'll have to pick it up themselves." The pointed hat shrugged regretfully and handed the mail to Aurora, "By the way, Mr. Black asked me to tell you that I hope you like what he sent in the afternoon, he has Very important things have to leave now, great things. But I think he'll be visiting you soon, I mean . . . at least those books you should like."
"Mr. Black?" Aurora repeated the unfamiliar surname blankly, then remembered the bag that had been placed by the window, and the dark-haired teenager, "Uh... Thank you for his kindness, but I don't remember..."
Before Aurora could finish her words, the pointed hat suddenly took out a silver pocket watch from the neckline and looked at it, and then said in surprise: "I'm going to be late!" With that, he shoved the package into Aurora's hand, "Okay Aurora, I have to go first." Your mother knows who Mr. Black is, so I won't explain it to you. But I urge you to try those scones, they are made by the best pastry chefs in Diagon Alley, and you won't regret it. "
After that, he disappeared in front of Aurora out of thin air, as if he had never appeared.
Aurora froze in place for a while, so much so shaky that she could barely hold the package in her hand, and then snapped the door with all her might and locked it.
This is definitely the most terrible thing after that python incident. A person disappeared out of thin air!
Is she really not dreaming today?
"Rose?" Mrs. Field stood in the doorway of the kitchen, her face worried, "What's wrong with you?" Isn't it Mr. Ashley? "
"No, it's a..." Aurora found that her vocabulary was really lacking now, and she couldn't find a suitable word to accurately describe the person just now—she wasn't even sure if the other person was human.
"Mr. Black?" Aurora said the name coldly, "He said the afternoon's stuff was sent by Mr. Black." "
Mrs. Field's face flickered slightly, her cloudy pupils shrunk as if frightened, and the only remaining dimness faltered in her eyes. Then she gently beckoned Aurora to come in, her voice clouded with an ethereal color of the rain and fog of the English winter: "Yes, yes, Ciris, I remember him." Why not come in and see if there's anything you like in those things? Tonight's dinner will be very generous. "
"Who is Siris?" Aurora held the package in her hand and asked tentatively.
"Why don't you eat first?"
The milky white fish soup is steaming hot, shining slightly in the light, with a few dark green onion segments floating on the face, and a thin layer of finely crushed oil flowers. Aurora took a sip into the bowl, it was too salty, and the fish was not thoroughly cooked, in short, the taste was not comparable to any previous time.
"Those things are safe, you can choose a few things you like to pass the time, remember to store the food, enough for us to use for quite some time."
With that, Mrs. Field took the unopened package, fumbled upstairs and closed the door.
Aurora looked at Mrs. Field's back with a mind full of doubts, as if she was ten years old all of a sudden, but no words of comfort came out of her mouth. She was also not interested in the remaining half bowl of fish soup and fresh white bread, so she simply stood on a low stool and washed the dishes, cleaned up the kitchen, threw the roots and fish scales on the countertop into the trash, and finally washed her hands with clean water and dried her hands on the skirt at will.
As she walked up to the second floor, she heard a low sob coming from Mrs. Field's room. The mourning and resentment, ethereal like a ghost of weeping, the sadness and pain are so thorough that just listening to it feels like all life has been erased.
"Mom?" Aurora hesitated at the door for a moment and knocked lightly, "Can I come in?" "
"Come in." There was the sound of paper being folded and crumpled, and Mrs. Field's voice came out, with a slight hoarseness.
Aurora walked in, stood by her bed, and raised her hand to gently touch her long dull blonde hair. The side of her face was buried in the shadow of her hair, and the slightly rugged silhouette was shimmered in a translucent film in the pale and cold shimmer outside the window. Aurora approached her: "Mom, what's wrong with you?" Why are you crying? "
Mrs. Field reached out and held Aurora tightly in her arms, her thin shoulders trembling uncontrollably, her hair messy and fluffy, and hot tears falling on Aurora's cheeks one after another. Mrs. Field was under the impression that she was a woman who was stoic and restrained, and rarely had such excitement, except when Aurora first opened her eyes to see her. At that time, it was because Mrs. Field thought she was going to lose her only daughter.
"Mom?"
"He's not coming back." Mrs. Field's voice was hoarse, like a cello string about to crack, and she said almost tremblingly, "Ross, your father can't come back." Siris brought back his news... He can't come back..."
"Dad... What happened to him? Aurora was dazed, but her hands unconsciously grabbed her mother's clothes, this action did not seem to be made spontaneously by herself, but a residual instinct of a limb to do so, just like the real Aurora's consciousness fragments were stimulated, causing a slight tremor, fleeting.
"He's gone... He's gone... I told him not to go! I told him! "
Mrs. Field became more and more agitated, and finally she even fell into a semi-fainting state. Aurora could only guard her by the side, her small body shrunk into a ball, hugging her tightly through the thin quilt, her tender little palm pulling Mrs. Field's still trembling hand, watching her quickly drain all support and decline, but she couldn't do anything.
Before she fell asleep completely, Mrs. Field squirmed her chapped pale lips and murmured like a helpless baby: "He promised I would come back, liar, I will never forgive him..."
Aurora kept carefully patting her back to comfort her, kissing her tear-filled cheek until she fell asleep, her eyes falling on the scattered papers on the ground, and suddenly she became a little curious.
She got out of bed lightly, then tucked the quilt horns for her mother, picked up all the parchment on the floor and arranged them into a stack, and quietly left the room and went to the living room.
It was raining and the temperature at night was surprisingly low. The orange flames in the fireplace were dying, and Aurora picked up a few wooden branches from the nearby wood basket and threw them in, using an iron fork to spread the thick ash to allow the air to make more contact with the flames.
The flames quickly erupted, and Aurora struggled to make out the handwriting by the firelight.
The letters were written in duplicate, one in Braille and one in plain handwriting.
She still doesn't know many words, but she can roughly guess that they are some family letters. The guilt of the husband who has been away for many years because of some unshirkable obligations, and the guilt in his heart for his wife and daughter in these letters, sentence by sentence, tears and blood, leapt on the paper.
The vigorous fonts were a little messy, as if the person writing the letter was trying to suppress the feelings in his heart, and could only swallow it by distorting the letters, and the end of the word was sharp and sharp at the tip of the pen.
"It's been at its most difficult stage, and I dare not go home, dare not let those Death Eaters discover your presence. I know that I will never be by your side when you need me most, that I am as thin and invisible as a ghost in this home, and that Ross refuses to even call me father. "
"But I had to, it was an agreement between me and Dumbledore. He will do everything in his power to help me protect the people I love the most, at the cost that I can never risk meeting you until it's all over... Marianne, Rose, I love you forever..."
"I hope this letter will never be sent the day it will be sent, because if that day comes, it means that I am dead." I don't want to die, I don't want to go, I don't want to lose you..."
"Merlin is on top."
The bright light of the fire penetrated the thin letter, and the handwriting suddenly became transparent and blurred, and a special light-sensitive mark appeared in the center of the letter—it was a strangely shaped shield carved with lions and eagles, giant snake-haired badgers, and a capital "H" in the center.
Aurora stared at the mark stunned for a while, and suddenly felt that it was familiar, as if she had seen it somewhere, and it was recently.
She turned her gaze to the pile of things that popped out of the afternoon on the table, where there were several brand new books, and the top one had this strange mark on the cover.
Aurora thought for a moment, took it down and walked to the fireplace and sat down, whispering the gilded sign on the cover:
"Hogwarts, a history of the school.
The author has something to say:
The first release double change, the follow-up update will wait for me to code some more out and then put it, save the manuscript Jun hold on!
Chapter 3: Sirius
That night, Aurora fell asleep curled up on the couch with the book in her arms. The dream was messy, and the pointed hat in the violet robe kept laughing at Aurora. She was baffled by everything here, and she had been dragged by someone through an ancient castle, from the corridor to the top of the tower, from the classroom to the forest.
The castle seems to be forever foggy, and the surrounding characters are all blurred, looking like a cloud of various colors of human shapes moving and jumping
She dreamed of a roof full of stars, hundreds of candles floating in the air, and a talking hat.
The hat leaps from the curved table with carved gilt trim and rests firmly on Aurora's head, giggling...
It wasn't until dawn that Aurora woke up because she rolled over and fell to the ground. There was no carpet on the floor, and Aurora was a little dizzy from the bump, and her chest was pressed by the sharp and cold book in the corners, almost breathless.
She must have accidentally fallen asleep looking at this book last night, which is why she had such a strange dream. It's just that yesterday's mysterious and strange person shocked her too much, plus this magical fairy tale is really divinely written, portraying a rigorously classified ancient and ancient magic academy to life, as if it really exists in this world...
Aurora lay on the ground, her hands unconsciously holding the book, her brown eyes staring straight at the mottled roof with a little dry and cracked wall skin, and the fine light imprinted a little light in her eyes.
She opened the book, stretched out her arms and raised it directly above herself, looking at the incredible passages, and a question suddenly appeared in her heart - if everything written in this book is true, then was that person from Hogwarts yesterday?
Don't joke, how can there be such a nonsense thing as magic in this world.
But what happened to the guy who suddenly disappeared yesterday?
Is it just that you are hallucinating? But the mail did reach me.
And before, those potatoes and vegetables that moved on their own ...
All kinds of thoughts were crammed into Aurora's mind, almost stirring into a pot of porridge, and a large mess of thick bubbles was making annoying boiling sounds.
It wasn't until Marianne's coughing sound came from upstairs that Aurora quickly rolled over and got up, not realizing that a few strands of overly long blonde hair fell into the gap in the wooden floor, and then were hooked by the barbs in the mezzanine. So the moment she jumped, her scalp was pulled with a tingling pain, and her hair cracked like strings.
She came to the door of Mrs. Field's room, opened the door and walked in: "Mom, are you better?" Do you want me to bring something up to you?" With that, Aurora put the book in her hand on the bedside table and put the pillow behind her back for Marianne so that she could lean more comfortably: "What do you want to eat?" "
Marianne shook her head lightly, reached for her coat, but accidentally touched the book: "What is this?" "A book." Aurora glanced at the cover, "Hogwarts, a history of the school." "