The Extraordinary Apothecary at Hogwarts

A moment later, a fierce quarrel came from the inner room. The old woman with all white hair opened the wooden door and walked out. Her angry face instantly turned into surprise, and she stared motionlessly at the glass bottle on the white table.

"I haven't finished speaking yet, old witch, where are you going?" A voice came out and said in a bad tone.

The old woman grabbed the bottle, and the shiny things flew into her hands in the candlelight.

"What's going on... shouldn't... shouldn't be so fast." She murmured, raising her arms upwards, and the wide cuffs slid down, revealing a deep and wide scar - like a piece of scar struck by an axe. Split rotten wood cannot even grow knots.

The other man seemed to be severely irritated, and he snapped, "Cover your useless hand or I'll chop it off!"

The old woman had no intention of covering up, otherwise she would not have chosen loose cuffs. She said calmly, "Your father would not want you to chop off my hands, Hamel. I will use these hands for him and for you." How much amazing wealth has your grandfather created?"

"Hmph! Stop using my father to oppress me!" The man squinted at the glass bottle and asked disdainfully, "I ask you what's going on?"

"They didn't find her." The old woman shook her head, let the butterfly crawl back into the bottle along her fingertips, took a black fruit from the white shelf and put it into the glass bottle.

"What do you mean? Didn't find her? Does that mean she ran away secretly?" Hamel asked impatiently.

"She can't run away. She has been a prisoner these past few months. I have already said that her stupidity will soon be exposed, but it is faster than I expected - they knew it too quickly. I I always wonder how they come to a conclusion so quickly.”

"You didn't realize how stupid the girl you taught is. She is just as stupid as you. Old witch, I still have to settle the debt with you for causing me injury!"

The old woman disapproved, her eyelids drooped and she didn't look at him at all, "It would be better if you showed more respect to me, Hamel. I watched you grow up after all. Sometimes I don't want to say something too unpleasant."

The man yelled angrily and pointed at his back, "Do you want to look at my back again! Huh? How could I have done this if you hadn't dragged me to that shabby school!"

The old woman sneered twice, "Your father definitely doesn't want me to be caught in Hogwarts. If I fall into Dumbledore's hands - you know very well that he supports the Ravenclaw family and provides them with Asylum, and even find ways to let them give birth to a wizard again."

She raised her ugly arms again, "The injury on your back is better than the one on my hand, isn't it? I guess the spell that hit you was made by that child. She learned some special skills from Snape. Spell, if you want revenge, you can rush into Hogwarts and kill her."

"You should have killed her last year!" the man said through gritted teeth, "Do you still have love for that person who died long ago, and secretly let her go against my father's wishes again and again?"

"Karl and I have never been lovers. When will I find a giant monster's brain and replace it with you? Maybe it will help you become smarter. Then you will understand. I am very willing to get rid of Xiaola." The unexpected factor in Vinclaw that might have ruined the plan was just two misses.”

"Just a miss? Okay, okay, you can continue. I haven't gotten the blood yet. I think you should just wait for my father's wrath!"

"Then you'd better wait with me, Hamel. I have a better reputation with your father than you. He is more patient with me, unlike you, an illegitimate son who can be replaced by other children at any time." A smile appeared on the woman's face, "As far as I know, there are 15 unrecognized children, and you are the unlucky 13th. Do you know how taboo wizards and Muggles are against this terrible number? Poor little Hamel , you are destined not to be taken seriously when you are born. The information you registered with the United States Ministry of Magic clearly states that you are my adopted son, with the last name of an old guy who lives alone like me, Little Hammer. Even your father met in the United States. I have to call you Mr. Koenge."

The man's clenched fist began to tremble, and he punched the white table. The already fragile limestone was broken in two from the natural crack.

He screamed, "Shut up, old witch! You're talking nonsense! Damn it, Kornge, shut up! Shut up!"

A wand is convenient, but a fist is more effective.

The glass bottle smashed to the ground, and the butterflies that had eaten the black fruit had now turned blood red. They were frightened and flew to the roof.

The old woman muttered to herself and waved her wand, the table was put back into place, and the broken glass flew up from the ground and was put back together into bottles, "The school takes good care of our Veela blood. I can tell from the blood collected. She will definitely be able to persist for more than half a year. But it is strange that the blood quality last week was much worse than two weeks ago. What happened? "

She caressed the butterfly and said regretfully, "I have always regarded her as the best work. The blood of pure Veela is too willful and cannot be used, and the blood of half wizard is not as pure as the blood flowing in her body."

The frightened bloody butterfly returned to the bottle to rest under her comfort.

"So what, that loser is definitely not going to be able to survive because of overdraft." The man glanced at the fireless fireplace and said coldly, "The school will send us a letter soon to tell us about her death."

Of course Dumbledore was unwilling to write to them, but according to the law and the school's system, a notice must be written.

The owl had already set off, filling in the old address next to the Devonshire valley. Flitwick broke the spell around the house in advance and waited with his wand at the desk where the letter was about to be delivered.

"Why not continue the topic just now," the man calmed down and sat on an uncomfortable stone chair with his legs crossed. "The dementors have been prepared for you. If there are only a few guards in Azkaban, no one will notice. .You can’t even provide Veela blood now, so continuing to refuse this offer will be detrimental to both you and me, think about it.”

"Again, my original plan must be supported. I stick to my original intention. If your grandfather was still alive, he would definitely not hesitate..."

The man frowned impatiently, "Okay, okay, don't tell me those things that should have been buried in the coffin long ago. We each take a step back, and I will reiterate your request in front of my father. The final decision depends on He means it, you can pray that he is still hesitant, but you must agree to my request now and continue to study Dementors for us."

The old woman lowered her head and said nothing, picking at the white tabletop with her thick nails.

……