One day in mid-july, it rained all night last night.
Aurora rose from her bed and pushed the window open. A Cool, translucent rain was falling on her face. The air was fresh and damp, and it smelled of forest and grass. Everything was wet.
This is a London suburb of a rental home, the owner is a pair of white-haired but still maintain a healthy young mentality, and very much love each other. Their children are already married and have moved to another city or country. So the couple decided to rent out the spare room in the hope that some easy-to-get-along young people would move in and add vitality to the house.
The old man, Geoffrey Pearson Hawthorne, had been a music shop owner in his youth and a keen maker of hand-made instruments, many of which were made in his home. After his retirement, he still retained the habit of making musical instruments, so much so that his home was almost full. Later, his son and daughter-in-law taught him how to sell these excessive musical instruments through newspaper advertisements, attracting many people to buy.
Mrs Hawthorne, a former singer at the London Opera, has always had a modest reputation with Hirataira. The first time they met was when Mr. Hawthorne was supplying instruments to the opera house. He took his newly-made violin to the theater hall where they were rehearsing. At first sight, he saw Josephine standing at the edge of the stage with his eyes closed.
The moment the girl opened her eyes, the twinkling beauty of the starry sea, the beautiful voice.
Later, Josephine became Josephine Hawthorne. Geoffrey Pearson said it was the proudest achievement of his life.
Mr. Hawthorne loved wooden guitars, and when the weather was pleasant enough, he would sit in the yard, gently plucking the strings to accompany Josephine, and then listen to her sing to him.
Aurora also had the privilege of hearing Mrs. Hawthorne Sing, and though she was old, when she began to sing again, the beauty and vitality of her youth returned to her face. She stood on the lawn as if bathed in a thousand lights.
Aurora thought Mr. Hawthorne was right. When Josephine sang, she had a sea of stars in her eyes.
Under the influence of Mr. Hawthorne, Aurora gradually fell in love with the wooden guitar this instrument, simple and pure, casual and peaceful. Compared to the elegant aristocratic girl of the piano and violin, the wooden guitar is like the girl next door who wears a cotton dress, waves her hat and runs to you through the water outside the window.
Mr. Hawthorne was delighted. He taught Aurora the basics and some simple tunes. From then on, Mrs. Hawthorne had two accompanists for her evening concert.
In contrast to Josephine's talent for singing, Mr. Hawthorne is a virtuoso instrument maker, but his singing is difficult to tune. Still, he liked to sing a jolly old song with his beloved wife to the tune of his Atlantic run.
"oh, say. Let us flying."
"where kid?"
"to the sky ,dear."
"Come Josephine, In My Flying machine.".
"Going Up she goes! Up She Goes!" Fly, Fly, straight to the sky
This is the first song of the Aurora Society, a song from 1910 about a couple who love each other very much.
After Breakfast, Avrora washed the dishes as usual and put them back in the cupboard. Mrs. Hawthorne was used to getting up early to prepare food for everyone, and Aurora volunteered to help her clean up the mess. They worked well together.
After that, Aurora packed her daily necessities into a satchel and rode her bike to the leaky cauldron. Blight squatted in the basket in front of her bike, purring loudly whenever there was trouble ahead, aurora didn't even have to ring the bell.
The drive is about 20 minutes long, and it shows the transition and transformation of the forest and the city perfectly. Aurora covered her bike with her raincoat and locked it. She carried Blight through the gates of the Leaky Cauldron and trotted down Diagon Alley.
Two weeks before the deadline for new students to return to Hogwarts, Diagon Alley is again packed with excited prep wizards. Aurora and Mrs. Brent had been busy all morning, and Mrs. Brent thought it was for the best, or she would be alone and the pet shop would be a mess.
"I once ran for over a dozen miles to get back a runaway snow owl," she told Avrora as she sipped her tea to catch her breath. "You can't imagine what it was like. It was horrible."
Aurora laughed. "I think I can imagine being scared by a snake and running all the way home from the market. It was a nightmare."
Mrs. Brent looked at her in astonishment. "You're afraid of snakes? I mean, there are a lot of snakes in magical creatures, and it's amazing that you're afraid of them. What else are you afraid of?"
"In fact, I'm also very... I have an instinctive fear of all multi-legged creatures that have more than six legs, as well as legless creatures other than fish."
Unfortunately, from the experience of Muggle society, there does not seem to be a direct food chain relationship between the two species. Otherwise, if there was a spider-eating snake or a snake-eating spider, Avrora would probably wake up with a happy smile.
What could be more exciting than to see two of our most feared species fighting against each other? No matter who had the upper hand, Aurora just wanted to throw flowers and shout cheers.
By late afternoon, Diagon Alley was much less crowded. Aurora cleaned up the shop, went back to the counter, opened António de Oliveira Salazar's journal, and chatted with him. Both the tea roll and Blight crouched on the corner of the table.
It was the first time Aurora had ever spoken to António de Oliveira Salazar about her life -- or, more accurately, the life of the body -- and the gift of being able to bond with magical creatures. She thought António de Oliveira Salazar would find the ability useless, since she knew she couldn't get anything good out of him.
To her surprise, António de Oliveira Salazar didn't respond for a long time and ended up writing only three words -- "I guessed.". Aurora was stunned. This was probably the most scribble António de Oliveira Salazar had made in nearly a year.
The change is so subtle that it can not be seen without careful examination. But perhaps because they communicated only by writing, she knew António de Oliveira Salazar's handwriting well enough to know what it looked like under normal circumstances, even if the differences were small.
Avrora suddenly had a bad feeling: "What's wrong with you? What's wrong with this ability?"
"No problem," António de Oliveira Salazar replied quickly this time. "It's a good talent."
Aurora's jaw dropped, as if startled by Severus Snape's bland, dumbledore-like smile as she approached her class.
"Have you ever seen anyone with this kind of talent before?" It couldn't be nonsense, and even if it were, António de Oliveira Salazar wasn't the type to brag.
After a while, António de Oliveira Salazar replied, "Yeah, that's why I said it was good."
"It makes you wonder who that person is," Aurora wrote, only half-jokingly.
"If you're so curious, I could say the same thing about you and make you feel it," said António de Oliveira Salazar, looking coldly at her with golden pupils.
"No, I'm afraid I can't bear it..."
At this time, a crisp and beautiful sound of a young enzyme suddenly sounded at the door, the tone is very cheerful and lively, singing as sweet: "Excuse me, is it still open here?"
"Yes." Aurora closed the diary and put it in her satchel. She got up to greet him. "What kind of magical pet would you like to buy?"
The Man took off his crooked cap and winked at her with his black eyes. His fair, heart-shaped face revealed a cute, cheeky smile, and his bright violet hair hung down on his shoulders, the colors are strange and beautiful, like those purple flowers that bloom in April. Aurora noticed that her hair was not a pure violet, but rather silver and red with streaks.
The girl's clothes were as outlandish as her hair, a navy green waistcoat with a black shirt, loose-fitting jeans that were riddled with holes, and a pair of Martin boots on her feet.
"You have beautiful hair," the girl said, smiling at Aurora for a moment, 'are there magical pets that aren't too much trouble to take care of? I always forget to feed them or something and it's a disaster for all of us. '
"Thank you. According to what you said, I recommend you to keep a ghost owl. They are very independent." Aurora turned and snapped her fingers at one of the Owls, who flapped her wings and jumped into her arms.
"You Can... Merlin!"
Aurora looked back and saw that the girl's hair had suddenly changed from a brilliant violet to a pale blonde, the same length as her own, and that it had grown from her shoulders to her waist.
The girl examined herself in the mirror on the counter for a moment, then shook her head and scratched at her blonde hair. "It's too long." Then her hair changed back to its original length.
Aurora froze for a long time, holding the ghost owl stay in place do not know what to say. It was not that she did not know that the wizard could alter his appearance at will, but she had always thought that it was possible to do so by means of a concoction of potions, rather than by saying a few words as she did now.
"Sigh, forget it." The girl grabbed her hair, and all the light golden colors began to peel off from the top of her head. They quickly shriveled and disappeared between her fingers, as if they had never appeared before, "I don't look good with this color. You look better. What a pity."
"You, how did you do that?" Aurora looked at her in surprise. "Then how did you do it?" The girl asked, tilting her head to look at her. "The magical creatures in this shop have never been so gentle and quiet. is that because of you?"
"Talent."
"The same," she said, grinning, showing her neat white teeth, stepping on the mat, and skipping lightly. Clearly very simple movements, when presented by this girl, there is an indescribable elegance and fluency.
Elves.
That was Aurora's first reaction. Not the kind of domestic elf form, is the kind of Norse myth of the elf, from the force of Nature and God was born, beautiful and charming, lively and flexible.
Her black eyes had sparkling jewels in them, so that the heavy blackness did not make her seem too oppressive and lifeless.
The girl pointed to the ghost owl on Aurora's arm and asked in her smooth, sweet voice, "Can I see that little guy?"
"Of course."
The ghost owl flew reluctantly up to the girl's arm and let out a short, eerie cry that sounded especially creepy. Aurora looked at the girl's slightly twitching face and realized that the deal was going to be a bust. After all, the ghost owl was the least of all owls, but it's also the hardest to sell because it's so spooky.
She tried to explain: 'It's what they call it, but they're independent and intelligent, they fly faster than other owls, they don't need to be fed and they can find their own food. '
"Yes, but, Merring, their calls are so horrible, you'd think I was plucking them and baking them alive!" The girl hesitated.
"It's all right," Aurora said, shrugging her shoulders, "They spend most of their time in the Owls' shed at Hogwarts anyway, and you should feel sorry for the other owls who share the shed with him, because you can't hear them, they're just hurting each other."
The girl widened her eyes at Aurora and laughed. "You're so funny. Okay, I'll take it. Thank you for your recommendation."
"You're welcome. Thank you for taking him. He'll be a good messenger."
After paying the money, the girl left with a world-weary ghost owl, walking briskly. Then she looked back at Aurora. "I forgot to ask. Are you a Hogwarts student, too?"
"Yes. Hufflepuff, third grade."
"Wow. So long, future alum."
"Goodbye."
...
By the end of the day's work, Dusk had spread across the sky.
Aurora inspected the shop, closed the door, and headed for the Leaky Cauldron. As soon as she entered the dark bar, she saw the familiar tall black figure.
"Professor?"
Severus Snape looked back, not a trace of surprise in his eyes, and said coolly, "Miss John Field."
Aurora GO Station stayed put. For some reason, she thought Severus Snape was trying to say something. She had no idea what she was getting into, and she didn't know him well enough to see it, but she knew she was right.
Then the two men stared at each other strangely and silently for a while.
Maybe my feelings are wrong. Aurora looked down and smiled back at him. "I'll see you later, Professor."
With that, she went around Severus Snape and out the door.
Severus Snape suddenly called out to her, in the usual long, unintelligible voice, "I did better than I expected on the final exam, Miss John Field."
Aurora felt a chill run down her spine. Then she looked back sharply. "Really? I mean, there's no line, is there?"
Severus Snape glanced at her. "No, I don't," she said, feeling as though her summer had passed in a blaze of glory. At least she didn't have to think about it all the time.
"Thank you, professor, for the notebook you gave me earlier. It really helped me a lot," Aurora said gratefully. Compared to some homemade tea bags, a potion notebook is simply too expensive. At least for Aurora, who hadn't really stepped on the line in the second half of the school year.
Thank you, Merring. Thank you, Dumbledore. Thank you.
"You're welcome," he said with a smile that was wholly imperceptible.
"Did you try those tea bags last time?"
"Yes."
"Really? That's great. Do they still work?"
"Not bad."
The little girl breathed a sigh of relief when she heard Severus Snape's answer. "That's good," she said. "Thank you for telling me today. I hope I can get a chance to repay you."
She meant it. After all, she had struggled so hard to get out of stepping on the line.
"That's good," Severus Snape said, raising her eyebrows. "You have the opportunity."
"Huh?"
"I'm guessing that's about the same time you're going back to your place in three days?"
"... is." Always feel there is something wrong look.
"Fine, I'll wait for you, if you want to come."
With that, Severus Snape got up and left.
Aurora GO Station froze for a moment, then turned and walked out of the leaky cauldron. Suddenly, the diary in the satchel began to move. When Blight found out, she screamed in Aurora's arms, like a muggle cat about to be taken to the vet for a neuter.
She put Blight in the basket of her bicycle and opened the diary by the light of her flashlight.
António de Oliveira Salazar flashed her her fangs and said, "You've been tricked!"
Aurora suddenly felt that the feeling that something was wrong was getting stronger and stronger.
"Can't you hear that he's waiting for you to say it, and he's jumping into it with such joy? !"
"..."
No wonder Severus Snape's words didn't make any sense. He didn't have to drop in on a student on the way to tell her about her final grade. Throughout Hogwarts, the other three deans have done the same thing, but Severus Snape is definitely not one of them.
So, now the logic is just fucking straight.
"You Slytherin are horrible," Aurora said after a long pause.