"Selwyn? Was it the Death Eater who came to get us when we were at Luna's house?"

After Harry contacted Hermione using the fake Gallon, he saw Hermione's reply on his coin.

After she reminded Harry, he remembered that because Luna was taken away, Xenophilius was forced to cooperate with the Death Eaters. Among the people he notified were Selwin and Travers, Only that Selwyn had a loud voice, and was much older than Absinthe.

"How is Ron?" Bill asked.

"Hermione is with him." Harry put the fake Galleon back in his pocket.

At this time, they were in the Leaky Cauldron, which was not as dark as it was when Tom was running it. After the renovation, the interior of the bar was full of candy, and slow music was playing in their ears.

Easter is approaching, and many people are buying candy and preparing eggs for the children. In the past, Harry often received gifts from Mrs. Weasley. There are also a lot of Easter delicacies in the bar, and there are roast turkey sandwiches on the table in front of Harry and Bill.

"That's why you called me out?" Bill said calmly.

"Aren't you worried?" Harry asked.

"He'll be fine, and besides, I don't think I should visit the hospital right now."

"Why……"

"Werewolves." Bill pointed to the scar on his face, "Is the Ministry of Magic declaring war on werewolves now?"

"I can't tell you yet."

"It doesn't matter if you don't say it, it has already spread."

"Is someone bothering you?"

"Not yet, but you know how it feels to have people talking behind my back everywhere I go." Bill took a sip of his beer.

"I want to ask you to pay attention to something." Harry said with a serious face, "Please pay attention to whether any suspicious people have come into contact with goblins recently."

"Why? Do you suspect that the werewolf and the goblin have teamed up?"

"No, Ron found a suspicious swamp, where we found a Death Eater's 'death camp', and I saw a hooded dwarf there."

"I think goblins would rather cooperate with werewolves than Death Eaters, and they had to cooperate with You-Know-Who during the war."

"Maybe they made some kind of deal. Muggles have a famous saying that there are no permanent enemies, only permanent interests."

"No, Harry, goblins treat many things differently from humans." Bill shook his hand, "Whether it is a dark wizard or the Order of the Phoenix, they are all human beings in their eyes. is not credible."

"But werewolves are human too," Harry added.

"They're both oppressed races and have a history of collaborating."

Harry stared intently at Bill's face.

"Okay, I'll keep an eye on it." Bill finally agreed to Harry's request.

"Scars always hurt when the weather changes. Does your scar hurt, Bill?"

"No."

"My scar hurts a lot today." Harry stroked the lightning scar on his forehead. "I don't want anyone, whether it's a werewolf or a human, to die. Can you tell me what to do?"

Bill shook his head.

"I guess I should go." He stood up without touching the overcooked turkey sandwich.

Harry watched him leave, then stared blankly at the sandwiches on the table and the candy provided by the store.

After an unknown amount of time, an old man with white beard and hair sat across from him. When Harry looked up, he thought he saw the dead white wizard Albus Dumbledore.

"Want something to drink?" Aberforth asked.

"No, thank you."

"I treat you," said Aberforth, "although I think you need alcohol more than I do right now."

"I need a clear head and action at night," Harry said.

"The son of Cronus never gave mortals a day without pain, but the wheel of time composed of joy and sorrow rolls to everyone, like stars moving along the orbit." Abufu thought "Fate, death Never waits for the world, fortunes come and go, so do joys and sorrows, a bunch of idiots packed up a pub and had a party yesterday, they had a great time, and you, like, took all the pain for them, Harry Potter, I give you a piece of advice, don't be like my brother."

"That's not what you're saying, Aberforth," said Harry, staring at him.

"Then what do you think I should say?"

"How is your goat?"

Aberforth sneered and walked away.

But after a while he came back again. A large bottle of wine was placed on the table with a "touch".

"Our special brew, Gump's aged social wine."

"You just buy me this?"

Aberforth walked away with a cold face.

Harry smiled wryly, picked up the wine glass and took a sip, the weird taste in his mouth was almost as bad as raw bone water, he almost spit it out.

"It's like leprechaun piss," another bartender told Harry. "We've been in business for hundreds of years and no one has ever had a hundred pints."

Suppressing his nausea, Harry swallowed the wine, and then munched on the turkey sandwich, hoping it would suppress the smell.

"Not even that weird Hagrid." The waiter shook his head and sighed. "I thought he could easily do a hundred pints at his size."

"What are you doing here?" Harry asked angrily, wiping the wine from the corner of his mouth.

"We made a bet, do you want to continue drinking?" the waiter asked.

"No." Harry yelled.

"What a pity." The waiter shrugged nonchalantly, as if disappointed that Harry hadn't finished the drink, and took the empty plate away along with the full glass.

"Why is this drink called the New Year's Drink?" Harry asked.

"Who knows? Anyone who invites old friends to drink this kind of wine will definitely break up with them!" The waiter replied loudly.

Harry shook his head in disbelief, then straightened his robes, got up and left.

============================

Severus lay on Pomona's lap as she hummed in his ear.

In fact, the afternoon passed just fine, until a short knocking sound broke the tranquility of the living room.

She followed the sound and found that it was an owl knocking on the window glass with a letter in its beak.

"Should I check it out?" she asked.

"Go ahead." He said nonchalantly.

So Pomona pointed her wand at the window and opened it, and the owl took advantage of this opportunity to fly in.

It had rained a while ago, but it has stopped now, and the owl is dry, even the envelope in its beak.

Pomona took the letter out of the owl's mouth, and then opened the sealing wax, and there was a brief letter inside:

Hello New Neighbor, I'm Nadia Vasika from Palo Alto, I will be visiting on March 20th at 3pm, hope we have a great afternoon.

"What was written?" Severus asked.

"Someone is coming at three o'clock in the afternoon." Pomona said. As soon as she finished her words, the astronomical clock in the living room sounded the time, and at the same time, the door of the entrance was knocked.

"She's on time," Pomona muttered. "Should I answer the door?"

Severus sat up, looking like he wasn't awake.

Pomona, forgetting his narrow social circle, got up and went to open the door for the visitor.

"Hi, hello, new neighbor."

The moment Pomona opened the door, a witch greeted her warmly.

She looked like she was in her thirties, holding a porcelain basin in her hand that looked like food.

"Who are you……"

"I'm Nadia Vaska. Didn't you get my letter?"

"Well……"

"Maybe that owl got lost again." Nadia Vasika muttered, "That old owl can get lost at such a short distance."

"I just wanted to say, I just got it," said Pomona dryly.

"What? I sent it to deliver the mail yesterday."

"Your owl has been lost for quite some time," Pomona sighed.

"Sometimes I want to get a new one, but I've had it for many years, so I really can't bear it." Nadia tilted her head and looked at Pomona with harmless eyes, "So..."

"Please come in." Pomona opened the door a little, and Nadia rushed in immediately, as if she had wanted to do this a long time ago.

Some neighbors may not like to socialize with others, but there are also neighbors who are keen to pry into other people's privacy, especially housewives, if there is any trouble around the house, they have to find out.

Pomona closed the door and followed her quietly. Nadia was looking around the house.

Friends are like students, they come and go, come and go.

Fate and death never wait for the world. The reason why people feel that they are getting closer is because they are actively walking toward them.

Like a butterfly pounced on a spider web, the spider web didn't move at all, it just bumped into it head-on.

the poem was written by sophocles

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