Harry Potter Morning Light.

Chapter 1217 The Housewives of Paris ([-])
"What did you say?"

In a Louvre art warehouse, Severus, disguised as a French Auror, stares at the stunning beauty Hathor.

"I don't know where her consciousness has gone." Hathor said, holding a glass of wine. "It's like when the fish sometimes eat the bait when fishing, her body is here, you take her away."

In an alabaster sarcophagus adorned with roses, the woman in a red evening gown appears to be in a deep sleep, except that she is not breathing.

"Don't worry, her soul is out of body, not really dead." Before Severus' attack, Goncey, disguised as another Auror, said, "Every night when we fall asleep, the soul will leave Our body, when we want to wake up, will come back again, but the 'waking up' when we open our eyes is not really waking up, the 'waking up' when our soul leaves the body is the real 'waking up' '..."

"You say one more word." Severus looked at Goncey coldly, "I'll make you never wake up."

Conseil immediately shut up.

Severus took out his pocket watch and glanced at it. It was past four o'clock in the morning, the morning star had already risen, and it would be dawn in less than two hours.

He didn't linger in this warehouse anymore, and directly apparated to the north wing.

At this time, the priest of death has disappeared, but the cabinet leading to the Tuileries Palace has also been restored to its original state. After the cabinet door is opened, there is no long corridor inside.

"Why did it disappear before dawn?" Conseil also appeared at this moment.

"It's a trap," Severus said. "We fell for it."

"What? How?" asked Conseil curiously.

"He searched all over the world for the most beautiful treasures to decorate this palace." Severus slammed the cabinet door shut "Now it's my turn to be robbed."

"I thought he loved Josephine," said Conseil.

Severus didn't speak, as if he was thinking about what to do next.

"I'm going to the underworld, the ferryman seems to be still there." He said after a while.

"Are you crazy? No one ever comes back from there alive."

"So you have other ideas?" Severus asked Gonseil.

"How about we start with the person who last talked to you?" said Conseil. "That Muggle seems to know a lot."

"He's a 500-year-old monster, of course he knows a lot." Severus spat.

"How did you know each other."

Severus briefly told Gonseil about his previous experiences in Palo Alto.

"So...you found the Sun Gold and handed it over to the Dark Lord?" Gong Saiyi couldn't believe it, but he couldn't believe it.

"It wasn't given to him, she threw it to him, I don't know what she was thinking at the time." Severus scratched at his greasy hair.

"I think she was trying to save you."

"how do you know?"

"Isn't that obvious?"

Severus frowned.

"You're hopeless." Gonseil looked at Severus and shook his head. "How did she fall in love with you?"

"Palodo should be under the control of the Italian Ministry of Magic now, I don't know their new stronghold?" Severus said.

"Gold is considered to be the body of God. The ferryman of the River Styx took it before, but he was punished later. Since then, he no longer accepts gold. If you pay him, you don't have to take the ferry. You can also ask him for information. ’” Gonseil patted Severus on the shoulder “What do you think of the idea?”

"Let's go."

said Severus, leaving the room with Goncey.

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"Silk?" Pomona opened a white gift box on the coffee table, which contained a piece of expensive sky blue fabric.

"You will use it to make all your dresses this social season, what do you think?" Napoleon sat on a single sofa, still wearing the uniform of the Chasseurs.

"Can I ask why?" Pomona put down the smooth fabric and sat down on the couch.

"You don't criticize my extravagance as a bad habit?"

"I've learned my lesson." Pomona adjusted the piece of fabric sullenly.

"Joseph was in the silk business before, and he is very familiar with this area. Lyon is the first city to resume manufacturing in China." Napoleon stood up, opened a box lid, and took a piece of goose-yellow fabric in his hand. "The Cotton Textile Association hopes that I can continue to block British cotton yarn products to protect their factories and customers."

"Why not French cotton?" asked Pomona, puzzled.

"Which aristocratic woman do you see wearing a cotton padded jacket to a ball?"

"You want to start a new fashion?" asked Pomona.

"A happy atmosphere promotes consumption. I was in Paris in 1792. As the Terror aristocracy and the bourgeoisie reduced the pomp of life to 'survival' levels, the construction and textile industries declined, unemployment increased, and the urban populace became more Lack of money to buy food, bandits started appearing in the countryside, do you know how dangerous it is for you to fall asleep in a public garden that day?"

"Thank you." She said sincerely, "but if you start to show off again, I think it may become uncontrollable and cause other problems."

"What I am most afraid of seeing is the rebellion caused by the famine. When people are so hungry, they really eat everything. When we were in Egypt, we even ate cat meat and dog meat. The nobles became too frugal, and the city residents who depended on them were Victims, I've got the Chief of Police to organize a bakers guild and build a reserve barn, you don't have to wait until the fall for the famine you're talking about, now all food prices are going up in the market, including meat, meat is more expensive than grain Difficult to digest, as long as the stomach does not feel hungry, people will not lose their judgment."

"And we are going to hold a luxurious ball at this time? Awesome!" Pomona exclaimed, "I never imagined that one day I would be the target of criticism."

"You can't explain it to some people." Napoleon gestured the silk in his hand to Pomona's shoulder, and then changed another piece of silk of another color.

"How do you know if you don't try? You can't do everything by yourself."

"It only took six or seven days for God to create the world. How can I have so much time?"

"Then you should also tell Josephine, isn't it a waste of time to travel between St. Luke and Malemaison every day?"

He put down the cloth in his hand.

"She is your wife, and I think I am already your mistress in the eyes of others." Pomona said indifferently, "Imagine how you felt at that time. You felt the same way back then."

"At least my sisters are not too busy gossiping." Napoleon said flatly, "I'm a lot cleaner."

Pomona opened her mouth, but did not speak.

She listened to the servants whispering that it was an absolute disgrace that the mistress of Malemaison waited for Napoleon in the town hall in her wedding dress for six hours on the day of the marriage registration, but Josephine endured it, because Napoleon was killed that day. Appointed to be the commander of the expedition to Italy, he was busy with work and forgot the time.

Yes, it took God only seven days to create the world, and time flies so fast, how can there be time to waste?

But this feeling exists for those who have jobs, ideals, and careers. For housewives, time passes very slowly, so slowly that people feel that a day is as long as 30 days, and they need to find something Come to make yourself less boring.

Ordinary people look to their husbands for company, and Josephine tangles with her former dance teacher.

The young man probably thought that he would be able to make a fortune again by relying on the relationship with women as in the old days.Pomona didn't know what Napoleon had done with him, and even if he let the boy go, neither would his officers.

When the soldiers were suffering from the Black Death, thirst, and lack of food to eat cat meat at the front, that boy not only ate and drank well, but also had a good time with the general's wife.For those soldiers with blood on their hands, as long as the body is not found by the police, this person will disappear from the world.

It is definitely difficult to lay hands on someone who is so loyal to himself.

But Paris is not a desert or a wilderness, it is a place of civilization and order, and they can no longer mess around like before.

"I don't wear those tights, how about calling your sisters over to me next time?" Pomona said. "I don't want to discuss women's fashion with Napoleon Bonaparte."

"Do you think I don't understand?" He pinched her ear affectionately, "I have eyes to appreciate beauty."

Pomona dropped the fabric she was holding and stood up.

She really has nothing to say about the thick nerves of a certain Leo man.

(End of this chapter)