Harry Potter Morning Light

There was a familiar scent of perfume in the air.

Pomona followed it, through the intricate and winding alleys, and finally came to the door of the Leaky Cauldron.

As long as you pass through it, you can reach Muggle London, which looks neat and spacious, not at all as narrow and crowded as Diagon Alley in the wizarding world.

She lifted her foot and entered the bar.

The business here was as lively as usual, but everyone turned a blind eye to her as if they couldn't see her, or she was wearing an invisibility cloak.

It seemed that a party was being held in the bar. Compared to this dilapidated bar, their attire was too luxurious. In fact, they were more suitable for going to a star-rated hotel decorated by Muggles.

Yet they are gathered here, with a sense of pride and satisfaction on everyone's faces.

At this time, a beautiful figure came down from the second floor of the bar. She was actually over a hundred years old, but she looked like an actress in her fifties. Not at all old-fashioned. Walking slowly but gracefully, partygoers immediately applauded when she appeared, as if she were still the shining diva.

It was only then that Pomona noticed the notice next to Janice. This was Janice's new perfume launch. It was written in a single line of handwriting:

'Do you want to feel magic? '

Pomona has always suspected that there is a love potion in this perfume. It can make people smell their favorite scent. In the same potion, some people smell chocolate, and some people ask about mint, but these are not contained in the potion itself. s material.

It just makes you feel that way, as Feliway said, making the perception of the past present. But in the "self-present", it didn't happen, just like recalling the brightly lit Hogwarts castle in the sunset, but for Janice it was a brightly lit theater.

There was a strange buzzing sound.

Pomona looked at the perfume bottle not far away, and watched it trembling slightly on the display rack. With the vibration of the liquid in the cup, she seemed lost in it.

Then she smelled a perfume that was different from Janice's. It had a citrus-sweet scent, which was pleasant and refreshing. When she looked back to find the direction of the scent, the person she saw was wearing a suit The bird green and gold coat looks familiar.

"Good morning, Madame," said the man in accented French.

Pomona is not married, but "Madame" can also be used for unmarried women. After all, women of her age should be married in most people's images.

"Is it morning?" Pomona asked.

The man smiled, revealing a mouthful of white teeth.

"Otherwise what do you think?"

She was a little dizzy.

"What perfume would you like?" he asked her like a clerk.

"What do you suggest?" Pomona asked casually.

He looked at her with a bewildered look.

"What?" she asked confusedly.

"Have you ever heard of the goddess Hathor?" he asked.

Her mind was like a fog.

"She is the 'twin' of Isis," he added.

"I know the goddess Isis, the wife of Osiris," replied Pomona.

"Hattor is the Queen of Heaven." He held up a bottle of perfume and said, "Heaven should be full of dancing, music, wine and perfume, how about this one?"

She didn't take the bottle.

Normal perfumes are bottled in glass or crystal bottles, but this one uses a small silver bottle, which looks like it contains some kind of magic potion.

"And she is also the Egyptian god of love." The man said in a seductive language, "use it, and the other party will fall in love with you."

"Sounds like a love potion," Pomona said, taking it out of curiosity.

"Love potion? No, it's not that kind of thing." He said with a smile, "For love potion, you have to keep poisoning it. You can use one drop for this."

Pomona thought he was like the stepmother who coaxed Snow White to eat the poisoned apple. She looked at the silver bottle in her hand. It was polished so smooth that she could see her reflection, only because the bottle was not flat like a mirror. It looks a little deformed.

"I don't think Love Potion is a poison." She put down the bottle in her hand. "Your word is wrong."

"All it can bring is a strong sense of obsession, and when that goes away, the 'love' goes away," he said.

"Isn't it?" Pomona shook the small silver bottle in his hand.

"What do you know about Hathor?" he asked.

"Why do you keep mentioning her?" She complained.

"She has a pair of eyes belonging to the sun god, which contain her tears."

"Why is she crying?" Pomona asked.

"She sympathizes with the dead, and legend has it that she will take the form of a fig tree and give the fruit to the dead in hell."

"I heard that Hades used pomegranate seeds to keep the queen," said Pomona.

"Figs and pomegranates are not the same kind of fruit, little fool," he said in a doting tone as they were strangers.

‘Sympathy for the living. '

She seems to have heard someone say.

"And what about Isis? Does she have compassion for the living?" Pomona asked.

He didn't speak.

"Do you think Caesar loves Cleopatra?"

"What?" she exclaimed.

"She was when she was a girl." He stretched out his hand, about to lift the lid of the silver bottle in her hand, "Fresh and refined..."

She ducked away with the bottle in her hand.

"It's like the sea breeze in Alexandria, it makes people feel refreshed." He pretended not to care.

"The sea breeze has a salty smell, do you think I smell like a salted fish?"

he laughed.

"Sea water and tears are both salty, even the tears of God."

"Have you tried it?" she asked provocatively.

"Yes." He replied firmly.

She doesn't believe it.

Then he bent down, leaned closer to her, and said in a voice that could only be heard by the two of them, "Because I'm already dead."

She took a step back, not because she was afraid of the dead, there are many ghosts in Hogwarts castle, but because...

He laughed out loud, as if he thought it was funny.

She didn't want to talk to this rude guy, and was just about to leave, only to find that she was no longer in the Leaky Cauldron.

This is a resplendent and resplendent theater. People in dresses and masks are dancing to the sound of music.

"Isis and Hathor are the mothers of Light and Darkness." The man continued, "Isis was later paired with Nip, and by birth, death, and resurrection guaranteed the immortality of Pharaoh, who would call himself Horu Si reincarnated to prove to the people that he is omnipotent, but in fact he is not so great, he cannot stop Caesar's army, but his sister..."

"She wanted Caesar's support to become the female pharaoh of Egypt." Pomona went on to say, "Caesar also wanted to rule Egypt through her, and they were just using each other."

"How do you prove that there is love between them?" he asked.

"He couldn't." Pomona laughed. "Antony made his and Cleopatra's heirs the successors of Egypt and Rome..."

"I gave you the same promise." 'Caesar' said.

"And that's Antony's way of proving the love between him and Cleopatra," Pomona said. "Not 'Caesar.'"

He was silent.

"Love is not wise, but Caesar is wise, maybe Antony is not so wise, but his love for Cleopatra is true." Reasons to love 'Lover for a Day'."

She backed away from the man who smelled strongly of cologne.

She didn't know where the inspiration came from, but she actually came up with the words "If power is a kind of perfume, he sprays it all over his body".

"Me too." He looked her in the eyes and said "It smells like figs."

"I thought you worshiped Isis," she said, looking at his sword, which had a bas-relief of the goddess.

"That's because I didn't understand Hathor at the time," he said with a smile. "You know 'her'?"

She couldn't think of an answer.

"We'll see each other again." He said like a prophet. "Goodbye, princess."

She wanted to ask a question, she'd always heard Muggles would do stupid things, like sell their souls to the devil for something.

At this time, she saw a sculpture of Frederick the Great out of the corner of her eye, but before she could see clearly, she had already exited the opera house, the door closed in front of her, and she returned to the winding alleys of the wizarding world In the center, everything here maintains the appearance of Charing Cross Road before the renovation, as if time has not passed, and everything is still in that "best era".