The right way to attack Moriarty

Potions class.

A middle-aged wizard stood straight in the center of the podium, with his hands on the podium.His slightly straight body was half stretched forward, and his side face was like a sculpture, with smooth lines and deep contours, with obvious aristocratic features.The wizard's expression was very displeased at the moment, and the corners of his lips were tense. He raised the parchment in his hand, and opened his mouth slowly.

"I think you probably got one thing wrong," said the head of Slytherin House in a low voice, like a cello slowly echoing in the potions classroom.But at this moment, no one in the entire classroom was addicted to his voice, and everyone's attention was on his words.

The head of Slytherin swept across all the young wizards present, with a serious expression, without any sign of letting go of the young wizards below.

"Potions are a practical course. If you can't do it yourself and can't guarantee your own conclusions, don't just write it on parchment." The head of Slytherin said.

"Everyone's magic power output is different, the wand they use is different, the way magic power flows is different, and the way to stir potions is different," explained the head of Slytherin. The effects of potions have turned upside down."

"Plagiarizing other people's data is of no help to you." The dean of Slytherin held up a thick stack of parchment, flicking his fingers lightly, "I have taught potions for so many years, I can still tell the difference between plagiarism and doing it myself."

"Life-prolonging potions have always been a difficult subject. Even today, there are only a handful of wizards who can research real life potions."

The little wizards whispered among themselves, and some even started to sneer at the potions professor's remarks.

"Since the potion of life is so difficult, why should it be assigned to us?"

"Knowing that we can't do it, but still asking us to do it, isn't that clearly embarrassing us?"

……

The head of Slytherin listened to the whispers of the Hufflepuffs and Slytherin wizards below, and did not stop their discussion, nor force them to be quiet.

However, when this elegant wizard whose every move showed nobility really spoke, the whole room suddenly fell silent as if the stop button had been pressed.

There's no way, the little wizards these days are all ugly dogs, whoever makes the Potions Professor good-looking and temperamental, he's right in everything he says.

Even if assignments are beyond their difficulty, it is for their own good.

It's their fault if they don't do their homework.

Well, it's all their fault, they won't let the handsome professor take the blame.

woof woof.

"I never expected that you would give the correct potion configuration," the head of Slytherin said slowly and gracefully, dragging the ancient noble voice, and the deep voice echoed throughout the potion science classroom, bringing With some secret disappointment.

It was all their fault, they made such a handsome potions master sad.

The little Slytherins lowered their heads in distress.

The little Hufflepuffs lowered their heads in distress.

Wang.

The head of Slytherin was still talking about potions.

"Someone may ask, since the potion of life has no obvious effect so far, why do you still assign it to us, and let us, a group of first-year freshmen, do this research and write this thesis report?"

The head of Slytherin repeated the question just now.

"Why would I assign such a difficult subject to you?"

Why did you assign us such a difficult subject?

It must be because you expect too much from us.

It's all our fault.

We should have lived up to your expectations.

Wang.

"The reason why I assigned this subject is just to let you understand the mystery and beauty of potions."

The Potions Professor slowly explained, word by word.

"I know it's hard. I didn't expect any of you to actually make it. Because it's so hard."

Then you still let us do it? ? ? ? ? ?

Wang.

You are good-looking and you are right in everything you say.

Wang.

"So, I prepared early in the morning that I would not receive homework today."

The head of Slytherin raised his voice sharply.It's like a cello actor who is not dedicated to his work. He was supposed to enter a note, but he jumped an octave.

"But, what did you show me?" An angry voice echoed throughout the classroom, "A whole classroom handed in copied data? Who told you to hand in the potion paper like this? I told you, potion It is no less important than a spell, a data error, a stirring error, enough to kill all the wizards in a room!"

"I don't know where you got the data." The professor briefly glanced at the data on the parchment, and roughly came to a conclusion, "I can tell you that the data is correct." The little wizards grew He let out a long sigh of relief, as long as the data is correct, don't mess with it for a long time and copy the wrong answer, that would be embarrassing.

The professor immediately continued: "However, who among you can tell me—" The professor's voice was very high, as if the people sitting in the room were not a bunch of young first-year wizards, but some other debating competition Player, he needs to compete with this group of people.

"Have you done experiments based on this data? Are you sure that this data can really make a qualified potion? Has anyone made this potion, stand up. Tell me the color, efficacy, and time of action of the potion, And after taking the medicine, the performance of the subjects."

The professor finished talking unhurriedly, and seemed to have effectively relieved his depression. He stared at the little wizards in the audience, his cobra-like eyes stared straight at them, as if he wanted to penetrate them.

"Has anyone done it?"

"Have it?"

The professor pressed the group of young wizards step by step.

No, because when he arrived at Hogwarts this morning, he happened to see some young wizards put away their parchment.

No.Because Jim did his homework yesterday.They could not have experimented in advance.

Wang.

The little wizards answered silently in their hearts.

They just came up with the data today, and the potion, so it's impossible for them to experiment again, unless they lived in the same bedroom with Jim and copied their homework last night.

The protruding-eyed boy bit his lip and stood up slowly from his seat. He answered the Potions professor's question word by word.

"The color is light blue."

"The subjects of the experiment were mice in the Forbidden Forest."

"When a rat's organs fail and die, the effect of the potion can prolong its lifespan. Casting a harmful spell on a rat causes the rat's organs to fail, and such deaths due to accidents cannot be avoided. .”

"I speculate that it may have caused too much damage. The rat died before the potion had time to alleviate it."

"When treating exhaustion death, the potion works very quickly. About 10 minutes after taking the medicine. But," the boy looked up at the professor, his light-blond hair bouncing, looking very nervous.

But the boy continued: "We can't identify the damage or depletion of the organs with the naked eye, nor can we pass the magic test. Once there is a problem with the organs, we can't tell whether it is all due to failure, so we can't take medicine rashly. So," the boy came to the final conclusion, "the general adaptability of this potion is not good."

The Potions Professor stood there expressionless, beckoning the boy to continue talking.

"I think the research on this topic has a lot of flaws." The boy paused and added the last sentence.

"Very good." The Head of Slytherin didn't make things difficult for the protruding-eyed boy, he motioned for the boy to sit down, "Please sit down. Now, do any other wizards have any other opinions?"

The professor's expression eased obviously, and he seemed very satisfied with the performance of the protruding-eyed boy.

The handsome Potions professor leaned halfway on the podium, and slowly said: "Horace Slughorn is right, the research on this subject does have a lot of flaws, because this is not a purely about life force at all. Research."

"But that's not important. What's important is," the Potions Professor drew out, "that what Horace Slughorn said is just one problem in the data. There are many other problems, Is there anyone else to add?"

"Anyone, any problem you find, or practice you do," the professor added, "is all right."

Silent.

The professor smiled indistinctly: "Then, the remaining data are useless. Don't you feel ashamed to sign your names on things that don't belong to you?"

The dean of Slytherin had a calm expression, showing no signs of happiness or anger.But obviously, from his words, all the little wizards could feel his anger.

The head of Slytherin waved his wand and cast an Anti-Plagiarism Detection Charm on all the parchments.

A brilliant yellow light appeared on the table, and the parchments shone against the yellow light. Soon, one by one, the parchments on the table ignited spontaneously without fire.

The little wizards bit their lower lips one by one, as if they didn't expect the professor to come out like this, especially this one was a Slytherin professor.

It's not that Slytherins are wizards who use unscrupulous means to achieve their goals, but Slytherins have never been more entangled in these trivial matters.

For them, everyone is happy when they successfully complete the task.

As for the rest, that doesn't matter.

However, today's scene deeply hurt them.After working so hard to write homework all morning, it was finally turned into ashes on the podium, or turned into ashes under the "anti-plagiarism spell", which slapped them hard.

This matter is enough to impress them.

It's not that they didn't spend their time on this assignment, and it's not that they didn't get results—although they were all wrong results.However, all of these are now denied.

If a different professor were to do this today, maybe they still don't have such deep feelings, but this is the dean of Slytherin.

Their dean criticized them like this, telling them things their parents never told them.

Things that are not your own, you can't sign your own name anyway.

Don't jump to conclusions that you haven't done yourself.

Slytherin does things unscrupulously, but it does not mean that there is no bottom line.

Accompanied by the never-extinguished yellow flame on the podium, the little wizards lowered their heads deeply, remembering these things in their hearts.

This young wizard cherished feathers very much in the future development, and also brought the glory of Slytherin.

Of course, this is something.

In class, the little wizards cheered up 12 points, answered questions tremblingly, and took notes.

After class, the head of Slytherin stood up, intending to leave.I accidentally caught a glimpse of the parchment on the podium, and was surprised to find that there was another piece of parchment that remained there without any damage.

The head of Slytherin froze for a moment. He picked up the parchment and glanced at it roughly.

"Jim Moriarty?" As if just reacting, Slytherin glanced around the teacher, "Did he not come to class today?"

The crowd fell silent.

Myron looked around secretly, and finally caught Jim's braid, and he said happily: "No."

"Tell him to come to my office." The dean of Slytherin said lightly, without even asking why Jim Moriarty didn't come. Riati put the parchment in the book and walked out of the classroom first.

Newt didn't ask about the Second Salem until the end, because Jim didn't know much about it, and he had only been in for two years, so he didn't get through so quickly even with his qualifications. Yes, so there are some things he really doesn't know either.

But Newt finally decided to tell Theseus about the Second Salem, and let Theseus just in case.Regardless, Second Salem as an organization knows too much.Some of them not only know the secrets of wizards, but also have very frequent contacts with the wizarding world, and can even get devices to detect wizards' magic power, which is not easy to deal with.

In the evening, Jim was finally willing to leave the two-person world constructed by Newt. In fact, he was kicked out by Newt because Newt thought he was in the way.

As for whether it was because of getting in the way or because of some unspeakable reasons, only Newt really knew.

As soon as Jim entered the Slytherin hall, all the first-year Slytherins stopped talking and turned to look at him.

"What's wrong?" Jim asked in confusion.

"The teacher asked you to find him in his office." Horace Slughorn, the protruding-eyed boy, walked out of the hall, and when he passed by Jim, he said lightly, "I guess it's because of the potion. He got angry in class today."

Jim shrugged helplessly, put his hands in his pockets, and planned to turn around and leave.

"Is that how you're going?" Leta Lestrange closed the book in her hand and looked up at him with mockery and ridicule in her eyes.

"Ah," Jim responded, and looked at Lita suspiciously, "What's wrong?"

Leta Lestrange shook her head, "It's okay, go," Leta Lestrange drew her tone, "Some poor little Slytherin doesn't know what he's going to face storms."

Jim:? ? ?

Jim shrugged indifferently. No matter how violent the storm was, could it be more brutal than the conversation with Newt just now?Jim staggered out of the Slytherin lounge.Jim has always been reluctant to pay more attention to people who don't care.

For the next period of time, Newt, just as he said to Jim before, would go to the hall to eat on time every day, and sometimes he could even attend a few classes.

Dumbledore has been unable to deduct points for Hufflepuff these days, and his expression is very depressed, because his "little friend" finally knows his way back and knows that he has come back to study.

The reply from Theseus was quick.He said he knew, and told Newt to be careful not to get too close to Moriarty.

After reading the letter, Newt smiled, and put the letter aside casually.

It was too late for Theseus to say this.

It might have been of some use a year and a half earlier, before he went to Hogwarts, or before Leta Lestrange hung around him every day.

But now, oh, his poor brother had to accept a Moriarty as a prospective sister-in-law.

A month passed quickly, and it was almost Christmas in the blink of an eye.

"What are your plans for Christmas?" Jim asked casually when he met Newt on his way to class after dinner.

"Didn't you ask?" Newt stopped with his strength and looked back at him, "I have some things to settle and stay at Hogwarts. Do you want to go back?"

"Well," Jim shook his head, "I didn't think about it. Our dean asked me to stay at Hogwarts, and he said that there is a potion research that he wants me to participate in. Well, it is the kind of core-level research."

"But you don't want to stay?" Newt asked following his words.

"No," Jim looked up at him. "After all, you stayed in school. It's actually good to stay."

"So—?" Newt didn't decide for Jim, he continued.

"But I've been feeling very irritable and uncomfortable recently," Jim frowned. "I'm very restless, and I always feel that I can't help but cast a curse on someone in the next second."

"Huh?" Newt stood up straight and looked at Jim vigilantly. He asked, "Has there been any failure of the wand recently?"

"No." Jim shook his head.

Newt pondered for a while, and felt that this was very similar to the overuse of magic power mentioned in the book. He thought for a while and continued to ask.

"Specifically, what part of your dean's potion research are you in charge of?"

"The recombination of soul stability and the continuation of life." Jim said a series of very professional names.

Newt put his head on one hand, very helpless: "You know I'm not good at that, you just need to tell me. Is your part in charge of theoretical research or practical operation?"

Jim thought for a while: "It's all there. There are more theories. But if I want to find a suitable potion formula, I must also participate in some potion making."

"Then go back," Newt said, "try to use as little magic power as possible in the future. The magic power in your body itself is not much, and it cannot withstand such frequent use. The project you are teaching is really not good, so don't participate. "

Jim pursed his lips and rejected Newt's suggestion. He said, "No, I want to participate."

"Why?" Newt looked at Jim in surprise: "You don't like doing research, do you?"

"I want to participate," Jim muttered, looking up at Newt with firm eyes, but with insufficient reasons, "I don't like doing research, but I like you. And you like doing research, I thought This will bring you closer."

Newt smiled suddenly when he saw Jim muttering.He said, "Who told you that I like doing research?"

Jim looked up at him in disbelief.

For Merlin's sake, was his speculation a few days ago actually true?

Is Newt really skipping class for his sake and doing all kinds of research all the time?

For a moment, Jim's heart has a number of children waving their flags and shouting.

Newt laughed and teased Jim: "If you think I like doing research, I'm going to find a place to cry."

Jim opened his mouth to say something, but nothing came out.

All the tricky words and all kinds of love words in the past were all left behind by him.

Newt's plausible complaint was too real and too shocking.Jim couldn't continue to operate rationally, and all kinds of "Is this a confession?" "Is this not counted?" "Is this counted?" "Is this really counted?" ?"

Like mentally handicapped.

The bell for class rang, Newt straightened the schoolbag on his back, dropped the last sentence, and Jim stood there in a daze.

"Little heartless, don't even look at it. What I have been studying all day long."

No, I take that back.

Not like mentally handicapped.

He is mentally handicapped.

Jim subconsciously wiped his hot cheeks, and suddenly felt that his brain might be spinning too fast, so that his cheeks were a little hot now.

At Christmas time, the little wizards coming and going are very crowded, and everyone is in a hurry, all rushing home.

Newt came back from the Forbidden Forest and stood in the hall for a while.Looking at the passing crowd, he suddenly felt a little sad.

He got some bad news from the Invisible Beast.

Yan Mo asked Duerte to convey to him about what Yan Mo accidentally saw in the library of the Artemis Manor a few days ago.

It was some information about his life experience.

To be precise, it's not his background.

It is the life experience of every Artemis Patriarch with blood inheritance.

Ah.

His father is not his father.

His mother is not his mother.

His last name is not his last name.

What is he?

"Hey," Jim stalked Newt from behind and hugged him from behind.

Newt cast a spell subconsciously.

"For Merlin's sake," Jim quickly dodged, "I don't have so many alchemy products now, help me block the curse."

Newt heard Jim's complaints, and only then could he figure out who the person behind him was.

He quickly cleared up his emotions and turned his head to look at the person coming.

"Sorry," Newt said, "I was thinking about something."

"I know," Jim rested his head on Newt's neck, spraying warm breath on his neck, "I see you are sad here alone, so I just want to give you a surprise. Who would have thought," Jim said dissatisfied. Biting Newt's shoulder, "You even cursed me back."

Newt had no expression on his face, and said lightly: "It's not the first time he cast a curse on you, as for?"

"Hey," Jim didn't have to pretend this time, he was really dissatisfied, "Can it be the same? Then and now," Jim stretched his hand from Newt's back to Newt's chest , patted hard, and he said, "You pat your conscience, can it be the same?"

Newt was not in the mood to tease Jim. He grabbed Jim's wrist, patted it comfortingly, and replied perfunctorily: "It's not the same."

There was a train steward's whistle outside the door, and Newt heaved a sigh of relief. He let go of Jim's hand.

"It's time for you to get on the train."

Newt didn't even look back.

"Well," Jim hesitated, he asked, "how about I stay and stay with you. Actually, I'm in good health, and nothing should happen."

"No," Newt refused him. "Long-term magic power consumption and staying in Hogwarts for a long time will have irreversible effects on your body. Once this effect occurs, I cannot guarantee whether there is still a way to make you Stay in the wizarding world."

The urging whistle sounded again, and Jim hesitated: "Why don't you go back to London with me?"

"No," Newt said again, "I'm busy for Christmas."

Perhaps it was because Newt's tone was a bit blunt this time, or maybe it was because Newt refused twice in a row.Anyway, Jim didn't ask any more questions, he bit his lower lip as if to cheer himself up, then stood on tiptoe and gave Newt a kiss.

Newt was stunned for a moment, and unusually, he didn't hug Jim, nor did he kiss back.

"Newt," Jim buried in Newt's ear, repeating what he had said in a low voice, "I'm here, no matter when, I'm here."

Newt sighed and turned around at last.

He looked back at Jim, looking at Jim seriously, without any reservations.

Jim can even see himself through Newt's eyes.Therefore, it can also be seen that Newt's eyes are clean, and he is not crying alone as he imagined.

"I'm fine," Newt explained with a sigh. "Don't worry about me."

Jim was relieved, he stood on tiptoe again, and pressed a kiss on Newt's lips, he bit Newt's lips lightly, "You just scared me to death, I almost thought you were informed by St Mungo, Saying that you were born in the wrong arms is not Helen's own child at all."

Well, you guessed it right.

Newt sighed inwardly.

This keen ability to read people's hearts.

The urgent whistle sounded for the third time.

Newt patted Jim on the back, Jim carefully looked at Newt's face, and after confirming that there was nothing wrong, he finally got on the train under Newt's repeated urging.

Christmas day.

There is an atmosphere of reunion everywhere in the town of wizards, but in this shop, the two wizards, one big and one small, are sitting face to face. There is no atmosphere of Christmas reunion at all, and there is no scene of reunion of father and son.

"Newt," Randall said first, "I'm sorry for ignoring you all these years."

"It's unnecessary, let's skip these meaningless prologues," Newt interrupted Randall, "You should know why I came to you."

"Sorry, Newt," Randall apologized again, "but there's nothing I can do."

Newt sneered, leaned back on the soft chair, and looked coldly at the gray-haired man opposite him.

"When Grindelwald's research encountered a bottleneck, you sent me most of the materials of the Obscure," Newt said, tapping the table with one hand, making a steady sound, "At the beginning, you tried to use my The control over magical creatures has helped Grindelwald make a breakthrough. Now, I just asked you to tell me Grindelwald's arrangement in the Austro-Hungarian Empire, and you tell me that you can't do anything?"

"Sorry, I don't accept it."

"Newt, I can't," Randall tried to explain, "You know, Grindelwald's research is on the return of souls, not simply breaking through the life and death of wizards. Once this research is successful, our entire Artemis family can be redeemed.”

Newt sneered: "The salvation of the entire Artemis family? Sorry, there is no Artemis family in this world anymore."

"No, and you, Newt," Randall said fiercely.It seems that the person who has no soul after death is not the opposite Newt.but himself.The old man struggled, trying to convince Newt to accept his imagination, "We have you!"

"I won't let the Artemis family see the light of day again," Newt said coldly, "Give it up."

"It's impossible for us to give up," Randall smiled slyly, with exactly the same expression as Nehemiah's back then, and the words he said were exactly the same, "Unless you order us as the patriarch of the Artemis family."

"No, yes, yes." Newt rejected him word for word.

The scene fell into a state of speechless for a while.

After a while, Newt suddenly laughed.

"You shouldn't have let Helen raise me," Newt sneered. "I didn't look down on Muggles until I was four years old, and I thought most wizards were stupid until I was 11." Newt looked up at the man opposite, and said a laugh. "It's conceivable that if it wasn't Helen who raised me back then, but you. With a little guidance, I can completely follow your ideas and let magical animals subvert the entire wizarding world, and even the entire world."

"If you want to blame, you can only blame you for taking the wrong first step. You are stupid. Who can you blame?"

Randall sighed, leaned back in his chair, and explained.

"This is beyond our control. The soul summoned through sacrifices cannot survive without the mother's body until the soul is completely stable—before the age of 11, or it will quickly wither and wither."

"Oh," Newt smirked, "that's unfortunate."

"Newt," Randall tried to convince the boy in front of him—this is the most outstanding work of his life, "Think about Artemis Manor, there are no portraits of anyone in it, think about those predecessors, do you also want to talk to the old man?" Like them, there is no soul after death, so they disappear completely in this world?"

"Daniel," Newt laughed again, "I remember you just wanted me to conquer the world for you, why, now it becomes persuading me to join Grindelwald's small group?"

"Daniel," Newt seemed to be amused, he leaned forward a little, and asked indifferently, "Where is your position?"

"It's not a conflict, is it?" Randall smiled kindly, "If you don't want to let magical animals overturn the world with us, then we won't do it. You won't refuse again for the return of your soul, right? "

Newt stood up bored and stretched.

"I already know almost everything I want to know," Newt said lazily. "I think our conversation can stop here."

Randall wanted to persuade him again, but Newt suddenly narrowed his eyes and turned to ask him.

"Speaking of which, why did Helen agree to your stupid request? She doesn't seem like someone who can do such a thing."

"For what else," Randall sneered, "for love. To marry her beloved Muggle."

"Oh, that's really blissful," Newt said indifferently. "You look down on her, but you have to look for her, I guess, because her blood is the purest?"

Randall shrugged: "After all, she is the only Artemis in this world who can give birth to a magician without a stick."

"So," Newt sneered, "why doesn't she fight you guys and be your boss?"

"I've answered this question before," Randall said with a smile, "because of love."

"Tsk, it's because of love." Newt picked up the wand on the table, "I thought she loved you."

"Unfortunately," Randall shrugged, "she loved two men, and neither of them was me."

"I don't know why Helen compromised with you in the first place," Newt sneered. "Maybe she wanted to leave the Artemis family early on and raise me. This was just an opportunity?"

"Maybe," Randall responded perfunctorily, "I'm not her, so of course I don't understand what she's thinking."

"So," Newt looked into Ravenclaw's eyes, "there will be a time later."

Ravenclaw made a gesture of letting go, squinting and smiling like an old fox: "I will see you often in the future."

London streets.

Jim was wandering around in boredom.

He was a little worried about Newt's situation.

There are not many things that Newt cares about, and there are only a few things that can make Newt so sad.

Theseus.

helen.

Gone.

However, he just sent someone to inquire about Helen's situation, and there is no problem.

So, it's Theseus?

Did Theseus have a problem while on the field?

But that's not right, it's impossible for Helen not to receive any news.If something happened to Theseus, it would be impossible for Helen to spend her Christmas here happily.

Jim was a little irritable. He turned around the street twice and planned to go back early.

If you don't understand it, then don't.

I'll buy a ticket tomorrow and go back to Hogwarts the day after tomorrow.

He shouldn't have listened to Newt in the first place, and he should have insisted on staying with Newt that day.

It's so annoying, why every time he is around Newt, he has no self-control at all, and he just does everything Newt says! ! !

"Moriarty?" A tall young man called Jim's name hesitantly.

No one has called this name for a long time, Jim froze for a moment and turned his head to look over.

acquaintance.

John Clay.

The young man who took advantage of the opportunity to surrender to James.The case was finally taken over by Moran, and Jim didn't know what happened afterwards.

"Is something wrong?" Jim asked.

"Well," John Clay looked a bit downcast, he had long since lost the brilliance he had when he declared himself a descendant of the royal family.Perhaps, Jim thought, Moran had given him a lot of trouble at the time.

John Clay hesitated, and Jim had nothing to do, so he simply stood there and spent time with him.

John Clay made up his mind at last, and he took Jim aside.

"Moriarty, I recently found a deal. Are you interested in making a deal?" John Clay took out a blueprint from his pocket and asked Jim.

"What deal?" Jim raised his eyebrows and looked at him.

"The Bank of London has a lot of gold reserves recently. I guess it's about 100 million taels. How about it? After doing it, you will get five or five cents?" John Clay said.

"Ah, I've recently, cough, been under jurisdiction. I promised him that I would quit."

"Tsk," John Clay showed his face abruptly, feeling very disgusted, "You are so young, what are you learning about puppy love?!"

"You six and four, no more!" John Clay gave another step.

"It's not about the money," said Jim.

"Hey, this tone, which family's young master are you close to, ha, it's not about money," John Clay laughed at him, "Hey, as someone who has experienced it, I think you should like him too Yes. This is not all for the sake of others. Hey, I am kind enough to remind you today. Love that is not independent of money will never be love. You don’t think it’s about money now, but you can use it later When you’re at it, you’ll realize that it’s really just a bunch of money.”

Jim had to admit that John had a good point in what he said.In particular, he has recently been researching on the subject of soul and life, and the Galleons he threw into it are simply booming. If Moran hadn't been sending him pounds, he might have run out of money to spend.

jim hooked john