"I miss you."

"I miss you so much..."

"I should have gone to see you first. I almost forgot what you look like..."

In the dim room, a figure was buried in a pile of books, and a sleepwalking voice echoed in the room.

Meka Anders walked out of the darkness, and circles of ripples spread under his feet, as if he was stepping on the water.

He came to the figure and called out:

"Phelps."

The figure in the pile of books raised his head, revealing a pale face, his eyes were turbid, and his expression was muddy.

Meka took out an envelope tied with straw vines from his arms and said softly: "I brought your family letter, a letter from your sister."

A golden light flashed across Phelps' middle-aged face, and his eyes were glowing.

"Sister?"

Surprise gradually appeared in his eyes, and he seemed to have just woken up from a dream:

"A letter from my sister?"

"Clacy..."

Phelps saw the envelope handed over by Meka, stretched out his hand and took it with trembling hands:

"Clacy, I finally received your letter again."

"It's been thirty years."

He took the envelope and wanted to open it, but his hands were shaking. As he tried to open the envelope, his eyes were already wet:

"It's been thirty years, Clacy."

Phelps finally opened the envelope with the scent of soil. He took out the letter that was once soaked with tears, slowly unfolded it, and his fingers passed over every word on it.

He read the letter with a trembling voice:

"...I haven't heard from my brother, Phelps Comber, for a long, long time..."

Phelps burst into tears and couldn't stop crying. His voice was hoarse:

"It's Clay's handwriting. I won't make a mistake."

"It's Clay's handwriting..."

He read word by word, very slowly, like a babbling baby. He was afraid of missing even a word. He held the new letter in his hands as if he was holding a treasure.

Meka Anders listened quietly, without any impatience.

He even sat down, in front of Phelps, watching his true feelings, listening to his voice that was trying to maintain but was always trembling.

"When I was little, I was very attached to my brother and often followed him around the mountains and fields. But later, an accident separated us from each other."

"...Now the returned envelopes are piled up in my cabinet. They are old and look like a small mountain..."

"...Because of this shattered fantasy, I locked myself in the house and cried for a whole day..."

Phelps' face was full of tears. He sat on the ground, wiping away tears with his sleeves, worried that they would fall on the letter and stain the letter paper.

His voice became hoarse and trembling. When he learned that his father had passed away long ago, he almost burst into tears.

I don't know how long it took, but Meka only felt that the whole sky became brighter and brighter, like the first clear day after the rain.

Finally,

Phelps finished reading the last sentence, and he nervously turned the letter over, as carefully as turning a piece of tofu.

Until he saw the photo behind the letter, and the two people leaning against each other in the photo, he choked up and couldn't make any sound at that moment. The only sound in the whole space was the sound of the paper rubbing in his hands.

The sky seemed to be rippling with light, like sunshine.

Soon, Meka saw this mature and steady man, crying for the first time, like a child.

"Clacy..."

"Clacy..."

"Thank you, thank you for living well... Thank you for accompanying mom and dad... Thank you..."

His voice was unclear, and only by listening carefully could you guess it roughly.

Listening to this sad voice, Meka suddenly saw Phelps' figure become blurred, as if hidden in the fog, and seemed to disappear at any time.

Phelps stretched out his hand, as if he was going to give something to Meka.

Meka was stunned, stretched out his hand to take it, and a blood-colored petal slipped into his palm.

"What is this?"

Phelps raised his head again, the red light in his eyes was fading, he seemed to be relieved, and whispered:

"This is your reward."

"Thank you, Mr. Anders."

Meka took his hand in front of his eyes and saw that the petals in his palm seemed to have taken root, turning into a blood-colored stream, running to his wrist, and turning into a blood-colored petal pattern.

"This is what I have been researching for these years."

Phelps' voice became hazy, as if it came from a far distance:

"Clacy..."

"My sister..."

A gust of wind blew, and the whole person turned into a golden rain of light and went away with the wind.

Meka looked at the petal pattern on his wrist, and the rain of light passed over his body, as if it brought Phelps' memory.

"This is the blood fetus." He sighed softly.

The information about the blood fetus in my mind also flowed like water:

"The legacy of Phelps Comber: the blood fetus containing the secret of transfiguration."

"This is the life's masterpiece of an unknown genius wizard, Phelps."

"The blood fetus contains some characteristics and abilities of vampires. Because it does not completely inherit the blood of vampires, the defects of vampires being afraid of sunlight and garlic smell are not inherited."

"It can be said that this is a miracle that is enough to amaze the world."

"With it, you can be called the world's first flawless vampire."

"Pay attention, water it with the blood of magical creatures of the same origin as vampires, and secondly with saliva, which can make the blood fetus mature and gradually release the characteristics and abilities of vampires."

"Blood or saliva of magical creatures of the same origin as vampires?" Maika murmured and repeated, then smiled:

"If you want to talk about who knows the most about magical creatures, it must be Hagrid."

"I have to find time to meet him."

...

Hagrid's hut is just outside the castle, in front of the dense jungle.

A gust of wind blew, and the rustling of branches and leaves could be heard.

In front of the hut, the sound of flutes often flowed, intertwined with the sound of branches and leaves, inexplicably beautiful.

Knock knock.

Maika Anders knocked on the door of the cabin.

"Coming." A rough response came from inside the door, and a footstep approached.

The door opened, and a tall and somewhat scary figure appeared in front of the door. Even the door frame couldn't fit his head.

He could only lower his body, bend over, and reveal a face full of messy beard.

Rubeus Hagrid glanced at Maeka's face and asked in surprise:

"Who are you?"

He walked out of the house, his hands in the pockets of the moleskin coat that seemed to have not been washed for a long time, and looked at the little guest in front of him.

But obviously, his memory was not very good and he didn't recognize him.

Maeka didn't care and smiled: "I am Harry's roommate. I met you last time when I got out of the train."

"Thank you for leading us to Hogwarts, especially through that lake. To be honest, if I passed by there alone at night, I might not even dare to go into the water, let alone come to Hogwarts."

Hagrid scratched his head and laughed, and there was actually a bit of embarrassment on his rough face:

"No, no, that's my duty."

"Come in." He invited enthusiastically.

Maeka stepped over the threshold and looked around the house curiously.

Gurgle, an iron stove was burning red, and the kettle on it had boiled, and the sound of boiling water could be heard.

A crudely made crossbow hung in the corner, which seemed to be used for self-defense.

There was also a small room inside, and a corner of a bed could be vaguely seen.

The whole house looked very simple.

Hagrid pointed to the small table and stool on the side, and while shouting "Sit anywhere", he took out a snack plate from the hut and placed it in front of Maeka.

He handed over a piece of bread-like thing and said with a smile:

"The house is relatively simple, and there is only this stone cake, but it tastes very good, you try it."

Maeka was looking around the house and didn't react for a while.

Hagrid seemed to notice something, and said "Oh", and quickly withdrew his hand and handed the plate over.

He smiled embarrassedly:

"My hands are a little dirty..."

"It's okay."

Before he finished speaking, Meka took the stone cake in his hand and put it into his mouth without caring, while mumbling:

"I do this at home, and my grandma scolded me for this, but I got used to it and didn't change it."

Hagrid opened his mouth, swallowed the rest of the words, and looked a little happy.

"By the way, I haven't asked your name yet?"

"Meka Anders." Meka replied: "I know your name, Rubeus Hagrid, the dedicated gamekeeper of Hogwarts."

Hagrid's face seemed to turn red, as if he had drunk some wine, and he laughed:

"Mr. Anders, can I call you that?"

"Just call me Meka." Meka smiled and replied: "Harry calls me that too."

"Okay, okay, Meka, what a good name."

Hagrid said, ran into the house, took out some milk from an unknown animal, poured it into a bowl and handed it to Meka, very enthusiastic.

Meka took it and drank it all, praising: "It tastes good."

Hagrid raised his eyebrows happily again.

"It tastes good, it tastes good."

A black dog suddenly jumped out of the house, wagging its tail and barking at Meka twice.

Maika looked at it in surprise, pointed at it and said to Hagrid:

"Hagrid, do you still have a dog? Its fur is shiny and sleek, it looks like you've taken good care of it."

"Come here." Maika waved at it, and said, "What a cute puppy."

In fact, this dog is not small. It's probably bigger than Maika when it stands up. Although it doesn't look ferocious, its teeth are very dazzling when it barks. If it were younger, it would be a fierce dog.

But this hit the nail on the head of Hagrid. He called the black dog to him, stroked its fur, and said happily:

"Really?"

"I said Yaya was cute. Oh, Yaya is its name."

"Yaya?" Maeka smiled: "This dog looks very gentle, and this name is quite suitable."

"I also have another dog, the dog is called Maomao, and it is also a very cute little animal."

"Oh? It seems that you are good at raising animals."

The two chatted for a few more words. Maeka chewed the stone cake in his hand for a long time, but it was still not chewed up. He had to hold it in his hand first and asked casually:

"Hagrid, I have heard in books that some magical animals and vampires have the same origin, but there is no specific explanation in the book. I have a habit of reading, which is to ask questions to the end. I have so many questions but no answers, which is very frustrating. Uncomfortable.”

"I heard that you are very knowledgeable about magical animals. I wonder if you can answer this for me?"

"vampire?"

Hagrid was stunned for a moment, stretched out his hand to scratch the messy hair, thought for a while and said:

"There should be quite a few that have the same origin."

"Let me think about it." He clapped his fingers and said: "Thestrals should be considered one type, and Maomao should be considered one type..."

He talked about many magical animals, some of which Meka had never heard of, but Maomao's name caught his attention and made him smile:

"Does Maomao count? Isn't it your little animal?"

Hagrid laughed and said: "Don't look at Maomao's cuteness. It is a three-headed dog from Greece, where it is called the 'three-headed dog of hell'."

"What a pity." He sighed: "If Maomao hadn't done something important, I would have let you see it with your own eyes."

"That's a shame."

Meka sighed;

"I thought I had a chance to meet them. The book was about potions. It also said that the blood and saliva of these magical animals are of great research value. I originally planned to buy a few drops to increase my knowledge. "

"What a pity."

"This..." Seeing Hagrid's appearance, Hagrid hesitated for a while before saying:

"I actually collected some fur and saliva. These things are very collectible for people who like magical animals."

"I can't give you blood, but I can give you some saliva, but I hope you don't give Maomao's saliva to anyone else."

His hesitation seemed to have some other purpose, perhaps because he was afraid that someone would use these things to harm his beloved dog.

Meka's eyes lit up when he heard this, and he laughed:

"Of course."

After collecting the saliva from the three-headed dog Fluffy, Meka sat there for a while longer. When he saw smoke curling up in the distance, he said goodbye and left. Hagrid personally sent him to the door.

After Meka left for a while, another person came to the hut.

As soon as the old but energetic old man walked into the hut, Hagrid immediately greeted him, and he was very happy.

"Professor Dumbledore, you are here by chance, I have just boiled some milk."

Professor Dumbledore narrowed his eyes and said with a smile:

"Milk is good."

"Thank you for your hospitality, Hagrid."

"But it seems that another guest came just now?"

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