Hogwarts Everything is Three
Vol 2 Chapter 610: Founder of Eagle Academy (modified, sincere thanks to the love of the silver lead
A wizard wearing a dark green wizard robe also sat next to Gryffindor, his face frowned like a monkey, but his majestic expression and delicate clothes made him look imposing.
"Why do you want to eat the food of those Muggle missionaries?" casually asked, as the oldest of the four-Salazar Slytherin is more concerned about the establishment of the school, "Roina, you I'm late, we still have a lot to negotiate about the establishment of the magic school."
After several days of long discussions, negotiations, and compromises, they reached an agreement on the establishment of a magic school, and decided that after the school was built, they would look for young people who showed their magic talents and bring them to the castle to train them. ——Try to change the traditional model of a wizard with several apprentices.
However, Slytherin suggested that it should be more critical when recruiting students. Not all wizards can enter. It is better to be limited to pure-blood families. Gryffindor and Ravenclaw obviously disagree, and Gryffindor is convinced , Anyone who shows a gift for magic should be eligible to study at Hogwarts; Ravenclaw believes that only those who show enough intelligence can enter the school-and obviously pure blood cannot guarantee her this. Claim.
But before the three of them quarreled, Hufflepuff changed the subject. She thought it was best to determine the address and name of the school before making other plans-although she personally agreed with Gryffindor's point of view.
"I dreamed of a warthog who took me to a cliff by the lake. I found that place a few days late when I was late. It is very suitable for building a castle there, so that you can stay away from the prying eyes of Muggles." Ravenck On Lao’s serious face, the corners of his lips suddenly softened, “As for the name of the magic school we are going to build, it will be called Hogwarts.”
When Alan felt that he had finally stopped flying forward, the ensuing sensation of hooking his belly button finally disappeared, and his feet stepped firmly on the ground again.
Allen found himself in a very familiar and unfamiliar place-this is the secret room left by Ravenclaw.
The decoration in the room in front of me is elegant and full of exotic artistic beauty. It is different from the white and gold decorations when I entered the first grade at Hogwarts. They are mainly composed of blue and bronze. There are exquisite furniture and luxurious carpets in the interior, and unique works of art. The top of the tower is round, decorated with ivory and gold, and the rounded curved crystal chandelier is spiral in the air.
The top of the surrounding walls is no longer the scene of the War of the Roses in the 15th century, but is painted with some legendary stories from Celtic mythology such as "The Long March to Capture the Bull" or "The Invasion and the Gods".
Allen's heart beat faster, relying on his familiarity with the tower, he quickly ran to the room where Ravenclaw met in the first grade.
When he was about to walk, Alan slowed down instead. He tidied up his appearance and clothes before he walked up the steps. After hesitating for several minutes, his breathing calmed down, and he spread the five fingers of his left hand to the door. , Looking down at the gap under the door, the faint light revealed from behind the heavy wooden door. Allen took a breath and was about to knock on the door. A vague female voice came from the door: "Come in, the door is not closed. "
Allen settled down and stepped into the door with the wooden door that opened automatically and slowly in front of him-this huge and somewhat cold space is much larger than estimated from the outside that this room can accommodate, and the four walls inside are full The bookshelves are full of various books and scrolls, and various spells are written in different languages on the backs of their heavy skins.
A variety of weird-shaped bottles and jars of different textures are placed on the tables on the four sides of the room. The white contents in some transparent tubes that run through part of the wall seem to be alive, constantly squirming and boiling inside.
But even if there is a defensive magic text, it can't stop the faint musty smell in the space of this room. Under the spice smell of the potion and the strange smell of corruption, it makes this room smell The smell of Nep’s potions classroom and library mixed together.
At a glance, Allen saw Ravenclaw sitting behind a huge encircling stone desk carved with sapphires from the unusually large obsidian. She turned her back to Ellen at this time, but her back looked thinner than she had imagined. She was looking at some materials at the desk and sketching with a black raven quill from time to time.
"Ellen, wait a minute, I have the last three documents." Ravenclaw's cold voice, who did not look back, was full of majesty.
The first time I heard the other party calling his name, the tone seemed a little lacking in emotion and was completely different from the nostalgic performance of Ravenclaw who had just said goodbye to him a few minutes ago. This gap made Allen's footsteps stagnant, After arriving on the chair opposite the stone table, I sat down quietly and waited patiently, but the strong and substantial magical power exuded from nowhere made Allen couldn't help but look around and detect it.
Now the founder of the Eagle Academy sits in this room that will be used as a secret room in the future, but now it is her private research room, leaning on a huge stone chair made of unknown material, and it is dyed dark blue. Nicely colored velvet upholstery. After getting closer, Allen discovered that the obsidian desk was engraved with many isolated magic texts, so that it could not be affected by any power or spying from the outside world that would affect the wizard's work.
The stone table top is polished as smooth as a silver mirror. Allen could see the eternal flames floating on the ceiling emitting this blue and white light slowly floating, and they were reflecting on the tabletop. Alan looked at Ravenclaw at this time. It seemed that she was about 30 years old. Although her eyes were half-squinted and not fully opened~www.NovelMTL.com~, the downward glance revealed like the moon. The tip of the spear in the night is as sharp and gleaming, full of wisdom. The meticulously combed dark-brown hair had lightened a lot, but she didn't wear any headbands or crowns, and her skin began to fade and generally became paler. Alan judged from this that although these unnatural fading should have unnatural factors, Ravenclaw's actual age must be much older than she looks at this time, but the years seem to have a special preference for her. Except for the above points, she was almost the same as the Ravenclaw that Allen remembered when she met in the first grade, but her face was haggard and sick.
She was beautiful at this time, but she was so beautiful that she didn't dare to have the slightest blasphemous heart, even a little daunting. Her beautiful face frowned slightly, and the quill gently slid, and her magical official signature appeared on the parchment.
Scattered on the table are a variety of messy and vaguely stacked objects with a strange and horrible style: various books and scrolls; cauldrons and cutters for making potions, and some herbs are stacked on the paper on the stone table. Above; several seemingly magical stones were randomly discarded aside; on a soft cushion, a shriveled human hand that did not seem to have magical power was covered by a glass cover engraved with intricate magic texts; several sheepskin scrolls were piled up The witch is right ahead—this is also the goal of Ravenclaw’s current focused efforts. Ravenclaw rolled the ring of parchment into a scroll and threw it on the side of the desk at random. When Allen noticed the other pages of special texture piled neatly on her countertop, his pupils were slightly enlarged, and each scroll was eight inches. On a thin gold leaf page ten inches wide, silver magic writing slowly moves on its surface, as if there is life-this is the source of the strong magic.
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