Hogwarts on the tip of your tongue

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, eighth floor of the main tower of the castle, headmaster's office.

It was a spacious and beautiful square room with some strange silverware on a table with spindle-shaped feet.

Although it is summer, the fireplace in the room is still dancing with dazzling fires.

Near the center of the room stood an old man with a long flowing silver beard, the Headmaster of Hogwarts and now recognized by the wizarding world as the greatest wizard of our time, Albus Dumbledore.

In front of him was a large, claw-shaped table with feet, and behind the table was a shelf on which was placed a worn-out old pointed wizard hat.

"Dumbledore, what do you think of this year's lyrics?"

The hat twisted, cracking a wide slit from the brim of the hat, like a mouth, making a sound.

"It's a beautiful singing voice, and I think the students will love it."

Dumbledore applauded with interest, his silver-white beard swaying to the beat.

"By the way, there's one more important thing besides that, about the Harry Potter Sorting House..."

After a pause, Dumbledore raised his index finger and was about to say something when he suddenly stopped his voice and looked behind him.

The fire in the fireplace behind him exploded, making a crackling sound, and a slightly reproachful female voice came out.

"Professor Dumbledore, I hope that the important things you mention in the Owl's letter do not refer to discussing the lyrics with the Sorting Hat. You know, sending letters to nearly a thousand students with school start notifications is not an easy task. ”

A tall, dark-haired witch in an emerald green robe leaned over and walked out of the fireplace.

His jet-black hair was tied into a tight bun, and his lips were slightly impatient, as if he had been dealing with something tricky before.

Minerva McGonagall is Professor of Transfiguration at Hogwarts, Dean of Gryffindor House, and Vice-Chancellor of the Wizarding School.

"Of course not. I just think you might need a little help with this year's new student admissions announcement. Like a little raspberry jam first? ”

Dumbledore turned, smiled softly, and handed Professor McGonagall a small bottle less than two inches tall, filled with red jam.

"No thanks."

Professor McGonagall replied coldly, apparently not believing that this small bottle of raspberry jam would solve her problem.

There was no doubt that from the magic feedback, the more than twenty letters sent to Harry through the owl were all stopped by the Dursleys. However, as long as Harry did not open the envelope himself, then the magic pen would automatically repeat the writing and delivery, and the family would sooner or later compromise in the face of reality. ”

Dumbledore blinked his azure eyes flexibly, "In that case, I'll leave it up to me to inform Harry." When necessary, Hagrid also acts as a temporary postman. ”

"Hagrid? Well, it seems that you have decided that you have always had your own reason. ”

McGonagall frowned, made a nasal sound without question, and continued, "If that's all there is to it, just write it in the owl's letter, is there anything that needs to be discussed in person?" ”

"Yes."

Deng Li's blue eyes flashed under the most moon-shaped lenses, and he picked up a crumpled note from the table and handed it to Professor McGonagall, and said slowly.

In fact, the new students of this class, besides Harry, and another child did not receive a letter. To be precise, based on Filch's results of counting the owl sheds, all the owls that flew to her residence were lost. ”

"Missing owls? You mean..."

Professor McGonagall pursed her lips, a little puzzled.

"I don't know. However, according to the mana riots calculated by the Ministry of Magic, the magic in her body has reached a critical value, and if she continues to lack guidance, she is likely to become a silent person. ”

Dumbledore shook his head, replied with a serious expression, and then looked at Professor McGonagall apologetically.

"Sorry, this child's situation should have gone. But the situation on Harry's side, you know. So, you may need to bother to visit it in person. ”

"We all understand that the impact of that person is still there."

Professor McGonagall pursed her lips and shrugged her shoulders helplessly to show understanding, "Moreover, as vice principal, this is also my job. What's that kid's name? ”

"Elena, Elena Kaslana, which is the name she gave herself, currently lives in a Muggle orphanage in the Scottish Highlands."

Dumbledore lifted his eyes on the bridge of his nose and added, "By the way, pay attention to the way you communicate, if I remember correctly, she is half-honeydy, and it may be a little difficult." ”

————

Scotland, the largest inland lake in the British Isles, is home to an inconspicuous town on the shores of Lake Romond.

To the south of the town there is a simple chapel, just behind which there is a small orphanage. Both the priest and the director of the orphanage were Spaniards named Benitez.

The orphanage was small, most of them were children transferred from other orphanages, and there were only seven people in total, including Benitez.

There is no doubt that among the many children, Elena Kaslana, with a pair of star-like blue eyes of the lake and waist-length silver hair, is a special existence.

Not only because she was the only child with a surname, but more importantly, as early as a few years ago, the financial distribution and cooking of the entire orphanage were almost all arranged by Elena.

At this moment, a group of children were gathered around the kitchen door, looking at Elena who was preparing breakfast for everyone.

Like most orphanage children, ten-year-old Elena is thinner than her peers, only about one meter and two meters tall, and can only stand on a small wooden bench to get the kitchen counter.

However, if you only look at her skillful flipping pot with a shovel, no one would have thought that this would be a little girl under eleven years old.

In the sizzling pan, the seductive aroma of omelettes spreads out, mixed with the burnt aroma of slices of bread that have been baked aside in advance, causing the children around the door to involuntarily swallow a mouthful of spit.

The orphanage's funds have always been tight, and they can only smell it every Sunday for breakfast.

Next to the frying pan, a large black iron pot seems to be simmering some kind of poultry, the boiling soup has been boiled milky, there are some golden oil beads floating on it, a particularly mellow aroma drifts, just ask the aroma, you can make people feel warm.

Putting the last piece of omelette into the iron plate, Elena picked up the spoon and tasted the soup tumbling on the side, smacking her mouth slightly, as if it needed to be boiled for a while.

Elena bent down, looked at the fire that had become less bright, frowned, and casually picked up a stack of envelopes made of thick parchment on the table and stuffed them into the stove, and pounded them in with the tongs to make the flames flourish again.

After doing all this, the girl jumped lightly off the small wooden stool used to pad her feet, turned around and looked around at the little hungry ghosts surrounding the door, with a small face and clapping her hands.

"Okay, now, everybody's back to the table at once!" Otherwise you wouldn't want to drink chicken soup today. ”

The girl crossed her hands at her waist and tried to straighten her flat chest, trying to make herself look more imposing, and said in a super fierce and threatening tone.

"Sister Elena, can't the priest still not have breakfast with us today?"

The question was asked by Bran, the youngest child in the orphanage, who may be extra clingy because of his young age, and can be regarded as Elena's number one little heel in the orphanage.

Elena shook her head and replied in disgust as she pushed Bran out of the kitchen.

"I've said many times that Dean Benitez's typhoid fever is not good enough, and it's easy to infect you. However, I reckon that another day or two of chicken soup should be completely restored. ”

"Then..."

Bran tiptoed over the wooden table and moved his gaze over the tumbling iron pot, swallowing his saliva.

"When the dean is well, will we still be able to drink the soup of the Fat Scottish Round-Faced Chicken every day?"

"This..."

Elena turned her head to look at the burning fire under the iron pot, and in the midst of the pulsating tongue of fire, an envelope made of thick parchment slowly curled up and lit, and a chic shield coat of arms on the envelope flashed away.

Even though it had been almost six years since she had traveled to this strange world, as a veteran harry potter book fan, she still recognized the coat of arms from the first moment she saw it—the main body of the coat of arms consisting of the golden lion on a red background, the bronze eagle on a blue background, the black badger on a yellow background, and the silver snake on a green background, and the center of the coat of arms was a capital letter "H" - the emblem of the famous Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

However, even if she was a fan of the Harry Potter series in her previous life, it does not mean that Elena is willing to step into the world of magic to accompany the salvation trio through the story mission.

Reborn, she didn't want to waste her precious time on a wit between a group of middle school students (all of Hogwarts) and a country terrorist (Voldemort) at best, and the big Internet era that was about to begin in the Muggle world was much more exciting than the wizarding world.

As she had guessed, the letter from Hogwarts was attached with a special magic that not only would the address change with her actual location, but the school should also have magic to determine whether the young wizard had indeed opened the envelope and read it.

Therefore, she grabbed the owl and boiled the soup at the first moment, and burned the letter directly by the way—a steady stream of meat was much more important to the children in the orphanage than magic.

In any case, in the novels and movies, in her eyes, they are just strangers, far less important than the orphanage people who have lived together for several years. Moreover, she knows nothing about her magical talents, and compared with going to the strange and dangerous Hogwarts school, she is more able to take care of the children around her with her knowledge of historical trends.

Squatting down, Elena rubbed Bran's maroon hair, plucked off a black-brown owl hair that had accidentally been stained in his hair, and casually threw it into the fire behind him, licking the tongue of fire on the feather and making a crackling sound.

"Rest assured. Before I opened that envelope, this kind of Scottish round-faced fat chicken would happen every day. ”

"So... What does a Scottish round-faced fat chicken look like? ”

Bran asked curiously.

Elena shook her head, didn't answer, stood up, ended the discussion about the question of the Scottish round-faced fat chicken, patted Bran on the head and smiled.

"Well, you'll know when you grow up. Now go to the restaurant and sit down, after breakfast, you will obediently do morning class with everyone. ”

————

(Cute round-faced fat chicken wants to eat, ask for recommendation tickets, boo-boo, more than three thousand words in a chapter!) ）