Science students at Hogwarts

"Kang Dang"

A tall young man slammed the door shut, blocking out the raging wind and snow.

He took off his hat, revealing his beautiful long golden hair, but his master didn't seem to care for them very much. The long golden hair was messily curled.

He muttered a few times and then used his hat to dust the snowflakes off his body, but one or two fish that slipped through the net still got into his collar skillfully, and the cold snow water made his face stiffen.

"It seems you forgot you were a wizard, Mayor."

There was a chuckle from the sofa in the distance, and then a bright light enveloped him, and Mayor immediately felt warm all over.

"Thanks, Feeney," he threw off the hat in his hand carelessly, sank into the soft sofa, took a sip of beer, and complained nonstop.

"Look at the damn weather. It's only November and we're already experiencing a long blizzard. You really shouldn't go back to Scandinavia, Phineas..."

"Mayor, I told you a long time ago that I have abandoned that name," the gray-haired young man paused, "George."

"Okay, George," Mayor shrugged, obviously not caring, "after all, you are right."

He took a sip of beer, breathed a sigh of relief, and asked a little teasingly, "What kind of wind brought a big man like you to me?"

"What? Can't you come and see your old friends if you have nothing to do?"

The two looked at each other, laughed, and drank the wine together. The years of unfamiliarity were dissolved in the wine.

Putting down the cup, George scanned the dark and messy room and frowned slightly.

The remaining snow on the floor has long since melted, leaving messy footprints on the ground following Mayor's footsteps.There are old antiques everywhere in the house, with the crests of different families printed on them.

Mayor noticed that his eyes stayed on the pile of debris for a long time and raised his eyebrows.

"Take whatever you want, it's all those pure-blood families who secretly disposed of it," his tone was full of sarcasm, "It's all thanks to you. If it weren't for the Black family, those old antiques wouldn't be so happy..."

George paid no attention to his nagging complaints about the pureblood family.

“Scourgify”

The house has returned to its original cleanliness and tidiness.

"Hey, hey, hey!" Mayor noticed his movements and was so surprised that he almost jumped up from the sofa.

"Sir Merlin, why do you have to keep this place so tidy? They stay there so well! I can only find things if it's messy!"

George fell silent for a rare moment. He didn't want to pay attention to the arrogant person in front of him.

After a long while, he sighed.

"Mayor, sometimes I really miss you in the past."

"People always change," Mayor said, still looking carefree. "I never think that I have done anything wrong. The old guy who sticks to the theory of pure blood will sink with it sooner or later."

"I didn't say that," George stared at the undulating foam in the cup. "Pure blood is always a good card to play. You cut them off too quickly."

"Is it the same as them? They all rely on selling cups to make a living, and they have to try their best to maintain their dignity?" Mayor sneered.

"Forget it, I can't live a day like this. Why don't we draw a clear line with them as soon as possible and watch them try their best to distance themselves from me on the surface, while secretly begging me for a few Galleons? Isn't this a beautiful thing?"

George shook his head slightly, noncommittal to his words, and directed his words to the pile of antiques engraved with many family crests.

Mayor was indeed interested, and he enthusiastically explained the origin of each item to George.

Then, he mysteriously displayed some alchemical items with special abilities and explained his repair process in a showy manner.

"I take back what I just said," George picked up a beautifully crafted women's necklace. "You couldn't have repaired it so perfectly in the past. You can already be called a master alchemist."

Mayor laughed loudly and bumped him with his shoulder deliberately, "As before, you want to give it to Luisa again?"

George nodded, and Mayor readily folded it in half and packed it neatly.

While he was packing, George browsed his rich collection and pretended to ask a question casually.

"Can you still get something like this from a pureblood family?"

"I knew there must be something wrong with you, tell me what it is. It's no exaggeration to say that I can get everything from Scandinavia."

"Then have you heard about the recent resurrection stone?"

"George, don't wade into that muddy water." Mayor put down the things in his hands and warned him with a serious face.

"The Americans are bound to get it, and even if they give up, things like the Resurrection Stone will not end up here."

"why?"

"Why?" Mayor repeated it funny as if he had never heard such a childish question.

"The only thing here that has something to do with the Deathly Hallows is the wall in Durmstrang with the Saint's symbol. You don't really believe those people's rumors, do you? What do you think Grindelwald left about the Deathly Hallows?" The back-up tool?"

"Are there really no connections between the Saints and the Deathly Hallows?"

"No!" Mayor looked at him in surprise, "George, you graduated from Durmstrang, have you forgotten?"

He cleared his throat and began to recite.

"Grindelwald never collected the Deathly Hallows. He wanted to use the power of the Deathly Hallows to initiate a reform..."

"That's enough, Mayor, I've heard these stories a hundred times since I was in school."

Mayor stopped and said, "I thought you forgot, and I was planning to help you recall it."

George took out a book of "The Tales of Beedle the Poet" and slowly turned to the page "The Legend of the Three Brothers".

Mayor shrugged, "It looks like Beedle didn't write blindly. Congratulations, England finally has a real fantasy novelist."

George's expression was solemn, and he flipped through these short pages repeatedly.

"Hey man, I told you. This isn't fun and I don't want to end up using that damn resurrection stone on you."

"The intersection of two generations of Dark Lords is on a small stone," George closed the book. "Is the Deathly Hallows really that magical?"

"Listen, Mayor, I need an update..."

Mayor was extremely helpless. He saw that he could not persuade his old friend, so he could only try his best to agree to help him search for clues.

He asked curiously, "Speaking of which, where did you hear this rumor?"

"My two students," George said with a headache thinking of the two troublemakers, "They didn't know where they heard the high bounties on the black market and wanted to try their luck to make a fortune."

"Oh, young man."

Mayor smiled and shook his head.

"George, why don't I tell you something more interesting? Maybe you can just ask the person you guessed about."

"tell me the story."

"The prisoner of Nurmengard was released from the tower and went to Hogwarts."