The transfer student at Hogwarts just wants to fall in love [continued]

"Holy shit! Is this a Firebolt? Both of them?!"

Ron was already jumping to his feet.

"Oh my God, one Firebolt is already extremely expensive, and you actually have two?! Who would spend so much money on you?!"

"I do not know either……"

Everyone in Harry was dumbfounded.

He has been craving fire crossbows for more than a day or two, but he has never been willing to spend money to buy them.

The money his parents left him wasn't for him to squander.

But now, two things fell from the sky, and he felt like he was knocked unconscious by happiness.

"Could it be Dumbledore? After all, he gave Bai such a luxurious robe."

"That's because Dumbledore is Bai's guardian. This is Bai's family."

"There is no way he would spend so many gold galleons on me as a student."

"Yeah..." Ron muttered, "Who is it then?"

"I do know who gave one of them~"

Hermione spoke at this time, and she looked at the two broomsticks on Harry's bed in surprise.

"Who?"

"Want to know? Then...that's...is..."

Hermione's voice was deliberately drawn out to whet their appetite.

"Hey, why don't you tell me? I'm so anxious."

Hermione glared at Ron and pursed her lips in Mo Bai's direction.

"Is it Bai?!"

Ron's voice broke in surprise.

Harry also widened his eyes, "Bai, this is too expensive, and why?"

Mo Bai smiled and said, "There's no reason. My roommate's broomstick is broken, so isn't it normal to give him a new one for Christmas?"

"This is a firebolt..."

"Of course I have to give away the best ones. I can't give away the poor ones."

"But I only gave you Christmas candy..."

"Hey!"

Harry raised his head and met the dark white eyes. At this time, the boy's eyes were gentle.

"You know I don't lack anything, and I really like this sweet tooth."

"Gift-giving does not depend on the status of the gift, but on your own intention and whether the other party needs it, right?"

Mo Bai picked out a piece of candy and threw it into his mouth, "Well, it's delicious."

Harry didn't know what to say, so he could only hug the broom in his hand.

He knew he had to win the next game.

"This one is for free, but where is the other one?!"

"I'm quite interested," Mo Bai leaned against the back of the chair and crossed his legs. "He treats you very well, and his family is well-off. I also know that your broom is broken."

"It's probably your godfather."

"Sirius?"

Harry flipped through the wrapping paper, "But why don't you write a name? You too, and Sirius too."

"I wanted to give you a surprise and let you guess. As for Sirius, unfortunately, I may have had a head-on collision with him this time."

"Hey, you sound like you're reluctant to share Sirius's ideas."

Harry wanted to feel sorry for his godfather.

But thinking that the other party had just been kicked out of Hogwarts, he suddenly lost the motivation to refute.

At least Mo Bai couldn't do such a thing as being kicked out because of a prank...

He looked at the two brooms and raised his head when he thought of something.

"Hey, isn't this just right? Bai, you don't have a broom, right?"

Mo Bai nodded.

"You happen to be training with the Quidditch team recently, right? I just have an extra Firebolt for you to use."

"Oh, that's okay..."

Mo Bai touched his nose.

In fact, he had asked the old man to find someone to customize a broomstick.

Make him sit comfortably...

It'll be there in two days.

By the way, the gift you sent me should have arrived, right?

At this time, Nurmengard looked like an abandoned castle from the outside.

Although this is a prison, usually not even half a person is seen, and there is not even a wizard on guard.

The local Ministry of Magic will not send anyone to the area.

This place seems to be abandoned and no one cares about it.

If you don't say it, no one can imagine that the dark wizard who stirred up troubles in Europe and was known as the most terrifying dark wizard in history was "imprisoned" here.

But places that are usually inaccessible are much busier than usual today.

Many owls put down their packages and flew away, and soon a hill formed on the side of the gate of Nurmengard Castle.

After a while, dozens of wizards appeared at the gate out of thin air. They all wore black robes and behaved dignifiedly and elegantly. At first glance, they were members of a large family.

Then they took out their wands and started working.

Some people unpacked the packages, while others cleaned up the neglected gravel, dust and overgrown vegetation.

The wizard was very efficient. The door was cleared in a short time, and even the cracks in the wall were repaired.

The next second, something that I thought would never appear here was hung on the door.

Christmas lights.

Not only were there Christmas lights, there were also various small decorations, and a Christmas tree was erected in the yard.

"What are you doing?"

The voice that suddenly sounded was low in volume and had a hoarse, old sound.

But just such a sentence made everyone present stop their movements instantly and look at the old man who suddenly appeared in the yard.

The old man was dressed in plain white cloth, his body was a little bumpy, and he stood there with bare hands.

But everyone who dared to hold the wand horizontally pointed the tip of the wand straight down.

"My lord..."

A man in luxurious clothes walked forward quickly. The old man raised his hand. The man immediately stood still, exactly five meters away from the old man.

"There is no master of yours here, call me by name."

The man opened his mouth and said "Sir."

The old man nodded and looked at him with narrowed eyes, "Oh, I remember you, you are from the Rozier family..."

"Simmons Rozier, sir, I came to pick up the young master before... the young master had the honor to meet you once."

"Hmm," the old man nodded noncommittally.

"Okay, Rosier boys, what are you doing here?"

"It's the young master's commission..."

Simmons explained the reason very happily, "The young master said that he didn't care about Christmas at first, but he received your gift last year, so this year he has to make up for last year's gift, so he entrusted us to do it..."

He clicked the shell, "The young master's original words were 'dress up his castle like a Christmas tree'."

The old man raised his eyebrows.

What is this little brat Mo Bai up to?

"This is the young master's letter..."

The old man hooked his fingers, and the letter in Simmons' hand flew into his hand. When he opened it, he squinted his eyes when he saw the first sentence.

To.Old Man

I know you lack nothing, but during the holidays, as an Oriental who respects the elderly and loves the young, I have to show something.

Thanks to your "glorious history" in the past, I can't go back to find you in a big way. It would be troublesome to be seen by interested people.

(Old Deng probably won’t let him either)

Then I will find someone to celebrate Christmas for you. Anyway, there is a high probability that no one has ever celebrated Christmas for you.

(If you have any opinions, please tell me. Don’t vent your anger on the Rozier family. They have been quite loyal over the years)

(You are already so old. Now that you have washed your hands in a golden basin, don’t take action anymore.)

Merry Christmas

KID.

Little cub.

The old man laughed and cursed in his heart.

I also learned to take care of myself when I went out.

The last sentence seemed to be a plea to the Rozier family, but it was actually talking about the Ebo family.

Of course he knew that even if Mo Bai faced the Ebo family, he could still run away even if he couldn't fight.

But if one of his own is bullied, if he remains indifferent, other dark wizard families will think that he has really died of old age silently.

It will only be more chaotic outside then.

As a silent person, Mo Bai will only have more things to do...

He put the letter back and put it away himself, and glanced at Rozier, who was standing opposite and didn't dare to move.

"Go on, I want to sleep, just don't disturb me."

After that, the old man strolled back to the castle leisurely, obviously in a good mood.

Simmons breathed a sigh of relief.

"Work, work! Keep your voice down!"