Harry Potter’s Morning Light

   Chapter 2091 Trembling Score (9)

"In 1789, Luigigalvani of the University of Bologna hung a frog, connected it with an iron rod to its muscles, and connected its nerves to a piece of copper, and the frog twitched. , Giovanni believed it was the 'bioelectricity' in the frog at work."

"Oh." Georgiana listened to Edgeworth's remarks, and couldn't help but think of the **** scene, and poor Neville Longbottom, who dissected a whole bucket of horned toads that looked like His pet, Ralph, was about the same.

"Mr Alessandrovolta of the University of Pavia became interested in this phenomenon, he invented a device called the 'electric stack', oh, I remember he was invited by the First Regent in 1801 To the Collège de France to publish his research, have you heard his report?"

   "No, I didn't," said Georgiana.

   "Why not?" Edgeworth asked curiously.

   "I'm a woman, and I wasn't invited to audition at the Collège de France until this year."

   "It's ridiculous, co-education is common in Italy, and there's a female professor of Greek at the University of Bologna," Edgeworth said smugly.

   "Don't neglect the other guests, ma'am." Laclare Taylor reminded her with a smile in her ear.

   "Sorry, let's talk next time." Georgiana smiled awkwardly at Edgeworth.

   "Let's talk next time." Edgeworth waved at Georgiana angrily, and then they went off to do their own thing.

   "I don't think the First Presidency will accept coeducation, ma'am," Laclare Taylor said. "He only allows nuns to educate rich ladies."

  Georgianna kept smiling, not at all surprised that Bonaparte would do such a thing.

   "I don't know if you have heard that the First Administration is planning to close the French Institute of Political Studies." Laclare Taylor asked.

  Georgianna didn't answer, if it weren't for the fact that the academy was about to be closed, how could she have been invited to sit in.

"The first government seems to think that the purpose of training teachers is to guide politics, morality and public opinion. If the people grow up and do not know whether to support republic or autocracy, whether to believe in religion or not, then the country will never become a country, a country. The foundation of the school is unstable and will change from time to time, teachers are just tools, and should not be addicted to doctrine and reasoning like the Political Department."

   "You want to go to the Collège de France?" asked Georgiana.

   Laclare Taylor smiled.

   "You want me to introduce you?" Georgiana asked again.

  Laclare Taylor was about to speak when the piano sounded in the tent, and Bach was still playing.

   "Have you heard of a pianist named Beethoven." Laclare Taylor said, looking at Metternich.

   "Oh, why haven't I heard of it?" Georgiana smirked.

"He wrote a sonata for Rudolf Kreetzer, a violin teacher at the Paris Conservatoire, which was completely incompatible with his style. Have you heard his "Duke Karl von Lisnovsky" Sorrow"."

   "I think I have." Georgiana recalled.

"To be a musician, you must first be favored by your patrons, and the duke likes Bach, but that pathos sounds like a sad maiden, in the quiet and solemn style of Haydn and Mozart, he wrote to Clayton The sonata he picked was loud and irregular, like a man full of enthusiasm, and you now understand what I meant by the style I just said was completely contradictory."

  Georgianna seems to understand.

   "Find someone to play it for you one day, and you'll know after listening to it." Laclare Taylor said, "protecting" Georgiana to continue to patrol the scene.

   "Go get the violin player just now." Georgiana said suddenly with her eyes closed.

   Leila, who was studying, stopped reading and stood up.

   Not long after she heard the footsteps of two people, she thought it was Leyla and the violinist.

   "Will you play the Kreetzer Sonata?" asked Georgiana.

   No one answered her.

   She opened her eyes, and it was not Leila and the violinist who came.

   "It's time to go, Georgiana," said the future Duchess of Bedford, Miss Georgiana Gordon, with a smile.

   "Aren't you going to stay two more days?" asked Georgiana.

   "No, don't delay your trip." Miss Gordon said, "And what's there to stay in this place?"

  Georgianna looked at the roses all over the house, and even using them to decorate it was still a little shabby.

   "Why don't you move?" asked Miss Gordon.

"what?"

   "You have to go too."

"Why……"

   "Napoleon has accepted the conditions, and you will leave with us by boat." Miss Gordon said, "Come on, or do you need someone else's help?"

  Georgianna was stunned.

   "It's incredible, isn't it?" Miss Gordon scoffed. "Even Caesar is no different from ordinary people."

   She still couldn't move when Miss Gordon's nurse held her up.

Miss    Gordon came over and looked her up and down.

   "Why don't you have someone paint you?"

   "Why would I do that?"

   Miss Gordon looked at her indifferently.

   "I have my own artist." Georgiana replied.

"who is it?"

   "An Italian." Georgiana deliberately misled her.

   "Canova?" Miss Gordon said after a moment's thought.

  Georgianna did not answer, she regained her strength, stood up straight, and walked to the next door, followed by Miss Gordon, who did not consider herself an outsider at all.

   "Oh, I see." She looked at the door between the two rooms and said with a smile, "It's called 'sleeping in separate rooms'."

   "Don't tell anyone else." Georgiana said blankly.

   "Did you know he didn't split up with Josephine at Malmaison?" asked Miss Gordon.

   "I know," said Georgiana calmly, raising her wand.

  As she danced gently, her shoes and clothes automatically ran into the box, and Miss Gordon opened her eyes wide at the sight in front of her.

   "I don't need help," Georgiana said to Miss Gordon.

   "You used magic on him?" asked Miss Gordon, enduring surprise.

   "No." Georgiana said calmly, "Politicians are protected by members of the Ministry of Magic. They used to be kings, and now they are still adapting."

   "I don't believe it," said Miss Gordon angrily.

   "What do you not believe?"

   "How could he..." Miss Gordon said halfway through.

   "I think it's incredible too." Georgiana sneered.

   And it's still a very absurd and uninhibited dream, Napoleon Bonaparte is not the emperor for life, how is this possible?

   "What makes you feel incredible?" someone said behind her.

   She turned her head and found that the door between the two rooms was open, and Napoleon in an olive green marshal's uniform was standing at the door.

   "When did you come?" she couldn't help asking.

   "Shortly after you waved your baton." He looked at her wand and said, "I have to explain to others that your hobby is being a bandleader, so take it with you."

   "You could say it's a drum stick," said Georgiana, looking at the wand in her hand.

   "There are two drum sticks, and you only have one in your hand." He said arrogantly, turned and went back to the next door. "Wait for me ten minutes, let's go to the pier together."

  Georgiana watched his back disappear.

   Legend has it that Grindelwald cast a spell after giving a speech in Lachaise Cemetery, which formed a blue circle of flames, with Grindelwald in the center like a conductor, waving the Elder Wand.

   Who is he directing? A band of ghosts, or an inaudible celestial symphony?

   Some are performers on stage, others are listeners off stage.

   Many times people don’t understand the use of the conductor of the band. Obviously everyone looks at the score, only occasionally the conductor, and everyone can play according to the score, but he just stands in the most conspicuous center.

  Some people say that the conductor is the soul of a band.

   She began to understand what kind of "lovers" Grindelwald and Dumbledore were.

   (end of this chapter)