94 Diagon Alley

. "

Gwen pushed Aberforth and Dobby back to the second floor of the Hog's Head Bar. With the acquiescence of the old manager, Gwen settled Dobby on the sofa in his room, gave him a thin blanket, and plunged himself between the dog and Crookshanks, closing his eyes and falling asleep.

By the time Gwen opened her eyes again, the sun had already set. The Pig's Head was closed all day, the little house was pitch black, Dobby's long nose slept with snot bubbles, and the dog's tail slapped Gwen's belly. The ring on the ring finger was a little hot.

Something… hot?

Gwen sat up in a jiffy and hurriedly kissed his fingers. But it was all too late.

With two crackles, two bandage monsters appeared outside the door of the Pig's Head Bar, knocking on the door.

Gwen wailed in his heart, and walked downstairs with his slippers. She pointed her wand in the direction behind the door, lowered her voice and said, "Not open today."

"We just want to have a glass of butterbeer." A relieved voice came from outside the door, "It's a bit cold at night, don't shut the hungry and cold guests outside, pretty girl."

Gwen swears that she does hear that it is her worried boyfriend outside the door, and definitely not the door that was opened because of the words "beautiful girl".

"Okay, come in."

After the two tall and thin wizards entered the room, she closed the lock again and turned on the bar light.

"I'm so worried." George hummed angrily, "The bar hasn't opened all day, and the ring doesn't respond—"

"I was sleeping." Gwen was a little embarrassed. "A few of us stayed up all night last night—more than a week without rest."

"I told you, if one night I find my ring is not hot, I immediately Apparate to Hogsmeade." George angrily reached out his hand to Gwen. The girl could only hold George's hand to greet them, and hurriedly brought out two glasses of butterbeer to serve them.

"Dobby?" Fred pricked up his ears, interrupting the couple's flirting. "It's here too?"

"Leave it alone, and don't provoke Aberforth," Gwen said. "They're exhausted."

"Since you can sleep peacefully," George pulled Gwen over and wiped the dust off her forehead with a handkerchief, "I guess the mission of the Order of the Phoenix has been successfully completed? "

Gwen yawned a little, "Can't say it's smooth, but it's enough for me to relax for a while."

"Fantastic." Fred pulled out a bizarre vest from under his cloak. The thing was two sheets of black ink on the front and back, sewed with clumsy stitches to an old nightgown. "Looks like we all have good news."

"This thing is hilarious," Gwen said with a grin. "You look like a big turtle now, Fred."

"Look, the little witch who can only play tricks." Fred straightened his back, put on an elegant posture of a wizard duel, and waved at George.

George also stood up, walked across from Fred, stretched out his wand, and cleared his throat.

"Wait a minute," Gwen hurried to stand among them, "are you going to experiment on yourself?"

"Get out of the way, Gwen." Fred said eagerly, "We've already done our experiments, and now we're here to show you off."

"I can't believe—" Gwen raised his voice, "in case you hurt yourself—George!"

George said angrily, "Only Fred wears it, and I've always been the bad wizard who cast a spell on him."

"After you've lost an ear?" Fred said with a grin, "Don't be silly, I can't let my brother do anything dangerous."

"I'm about to cry." Gwen looked at the two boys fiercely, "How touching - one has no ears, one has no tail..." Gwen's sermon was not over, a red The light hit Fred's belly from George's wand, and Fred didn't move. The magic spell hit the black leather surface and disappeared as if it had been absorbed.

"...don't allow this in the future." Gwen's mouthful of big truths could only swallow his stomach and persuade dryly. "Well, I'm full of fire, but proud of you, gentlemen."

"We need more bat

"—that one is too skinny, and the damned hunchback Blanchard is asking us a lot of money." Fred scolded. "We have to buy as many large Voldemort bats as possible."

"I'd love to help you." Gwen shrugged, "But there are too few wizards smuggling magical creatures to and from the tropics these days."

"Actually, I have a better idea." George winked at Fred. The two sat next to Gwen.

"You know, Gwen, we've lost a lot of revenue when the joke shop closed," Fred said softly.

"Take all my money, just please don't talk to me like that." Gwen felt goosebumps and begged.

"No," George shook his head. "On the contrary, we're going to sell you something."

"Accurately, through you, to the students of Hogwarts." Fred showed his sinister white teeth. Gwen turned quickly to look at George, who also looked like a vampire.

"I don't understand, what if the students can't come to Hogsmeade?" Gwen swallowed. "No one can tell what future policy will be."

"Isn't there a secret passage in the cellar of Honeyduke's Candy Store?" Fred said nonchalantly.

"What if the Death Eaters seal the seal?" Gwen retorted subconsciously.

George and Fred exchanged glances, then spoke slowly.

“What made you think—” George said.

"—Hogwarts secret passages will be sealed—" Fred took over.

"—Is my guess right? There are people with dirt in their hair, gray on their faces, and lethargic during the day—"

"—Are you secretly digging a secret passage?"

Gwen stood up from the stool at once, "Can't...you can't just say this to me just because you two thought about running out of school all day..."

"Come on, Gwen." Fred folded his arms. "George said your arms are strong."

"I never said—don't listen to his nonsense, Gwen, you're slim." George lowered his head and coughed, "For your boyfriend's sake..."

"My boyfriend with big arms?" Gwen bared his teeth in protest at George.

"For your stupid boyfriend's sake, do you think we can sell joke merchandise to Hogwarts students?" The words bewitched her, "We'll send the goods to the back door of the bar."

"I think I can." Gwen held back for a long time, and finally said in a huff, "But I don't think I have the ability to convince Aberforth."

"You will." Fred clapped his hands with satisfaction, "After all, he has never been such an obedient clerk."

Different from the fiery celebration in Hogsmeade, in the forest in the distance, the three once-close friends had a disagreement for the first time.

"Did you hear, Hermione, the goblin said that the Gryffindor sword Snape kept in Gringotts was a replica—" Harry exclaimed.

"—and put the real one in...where?" Hermione couldn't figure it out.

They stared at each other, and Harry felt the answer hang in the air above them, so close but out of reach. Why didn't Dumbledore tell him? Or told, but Harry didn't realize it at the time?

"Think about it!" Hermione whispered, "Think about it! Where would Dumbledore put it?"

"Not at Hogwarts," said Harry, pacing again.

"Where in Hogsmeade?" Hermione guessed.

"Screaming Shack?" said Harry. "No one's going there."

"But Snape knew how to get in, wouldn't that be a little risky?"

"Dumbledore trusts Snape," Harry reminded her.

“Not trusted enough to tell him that the sword has been dropped,” said Hermione.

"Yeah, you're right!" said Harry, all the more relieved to think that Dumbledore had a reservation in Snape's trust, however weak, " So, does he hide the sword away from Hogsmeade? What do you think, Ron? Ron?"

Harry turned his head, he was confused for a moment, thinking that Ron had left the tent, and then found Ron lying in the shadows of the lower bunk, like a stone.

"Oh, remember me?" he said.

"What?"

Ron snorted, staring at the top bunk.

"You two keep talking, don't let me spoil your interest."

Harry was puzzled and looked at Hermione for help. But she shook her head, apparently as overwhelmed as he was.

"What's wrong?" Harry said.

"Problem? No problem," said Ron, still reluctant to look at Harry, "at least in your opinion."

There was a clatter on the canvas overhead, and it was raining.

"Well, there's clearly something wrong with you," Harry said.

Ron swung his long legs off the edge of the bed and sat up. He looked very bad and didn't know what medicine he was taking.

"Okay, I'll vomit. Don't expect me to bounce around in the tent, isn't it just another **** thing to look for? Just add it to what you don't know Things are going well."

"I don't know?" Harry said, "I don't know?"

pat, pat, pat: the rain is getting heavier and heavier. Hit on the banks of the surrounding fallen leaves, babbling in the dark