Bathilda?? Bashat was half-curled up in her rocking chair, leaning close to the fire, as if to protect the heat from her thick torn black/mao coat and bandana.

Her eyes were sunken deep in folds of clear skin with thick cataracts inside, and her face was covered in staccato blood vessels and age spots. As the rocking chair swayed back and forth, her feet could not touch the ground to stop the chair, she was too short, which made the swing a bit of a sense of helplessness.

"How long are we going to make it up, Grandma Barty?" The little girl knelt on the big red wool carpet in front of the stove, laid down the garland, shook her sore right hand, and winked at the old lady in the rocking chair.

"That's it, dear." The old woman said as she tried to bend her back and try to get her toes to the floor, "Come, come and help me with a york—"

"I'm not York, I'm John, I've said it many times, Grandma Barty!" The candle flickered, and the little boy jumped out of the dimly lit side of the room, and stood within the range of the firelight, the heavy dust rattling beneath his feet, and a half-broken moldy cup in his hand.

"See what fun I've found!?"

"Oh my God, John, Daddy said that if we were to Grandma Barty's house, we shouldn't mess with the guests' things, and don't put your feet on the carpet, look—you've got all the dust here!" The girl covered her nose and kept tapping her hand in front of her.

"It's none of your business, Mary, don't forget that you are my sister, and my father also said that my sister should listen to my brother when she goes out!" The boy said as he took off his shoes before stepping on the blanket, reaching out to help the old man stop the rocking chair while curiously holding the broken cup in /wan's hand.

"Why is there such a ...... Lots of little bits...... I mean...... Green ......"

"That's mold, don't touch it stupid." Mary subconsciously leaned back, trying to stay away.

"Ahem...... All right, kids...... cough...... "Bathilda was also choked by the dust raised, and she casually took the root of a candle from a shallow tray on a rickety pile of books, and lit it in the fire.

There was a gust of wind for no reason, cold and cold, this room was old and dirty, but it was by no means the kind of broken house with a thatched roof that was exposed to the wind on all sides.

The fire dimmed slightly, as if something had swallowed the light in the room from the darkness.

The air was quiet.

"Smack"

"Ah, look at the good you did—John—" Mary cried out, pointing to the cup that had fallen to the ground and had been completely shattered, "you broke the cup at Grandma Barty's house, and I will go back and tell Daddy." ”

The little girl's voice was still a little milky, she was too young.

"That's a bad thing!" John shuddered at first, and then shouted stiffly, but his steps subconsciously moved towards the fire, and for some reason he always felt like a big golden chipmunk was about to burst out of the dark room at any moment.

That's right, the little boy is most afraid of the chipmunks, of their front teeth, of the way they eat, as if they are eating their own brains.

"Hey, kids." Bathilda paused for tens of seconds before turning slowly, looking out the window warily and then with a blank look.

"Honey, I think it's time for you to go back......"

"Huh? But what about the garlands for Mr. Mahkeyheart and Witch Willow, we won't have time to send them to church tomorrow morning. Mary pleaded, "Let's stay here for a while, Granny Barty, I promise I won't let John run around again—"

"I'm your brother...... "The boy muttered, rolling his eyes, "and wizards are fake...... Dad said that Mr. Maheachheart is just a character in the story......"

"But you picked up a stick yesterday to use as a wand! Clamoring to be a Mahoxy Wizard, John! Mary sarcastically and mercilessly.

John's face flushed, and he tried to argue something, but when his gaze swept over Grandma Barty, who was standing motionless in front of the window, he was stunned.

An inexplicably oppressive atmosphere spread through the room, like the darkness after the candle had been extinguished, tearing, biting and swallowing the only light left.

"It's getting late, go home quickly." Bathilda said with rare neatness, her tone was inexplicably sharp, "Quick, let's go, we can talk about Mr. Maheachheart's story tomorrow!" ”

"But—" Mary was about to say something, but was interrupted.

"Bang, bang, bang," a rhythmic knock sounded quietly, but who would visit the old woman who lived in the middle of nowhere in the middle of the town so late.

Mary and John both stopped and looked at Grandma Barty in unison, and John leaned back to the fire, his thin shoulders trembling slightly.

Bathilda's cloudy eyes stared at the wooden door, and she stood motionless until a second knock rang out, "Bang, bang." "This time there were only two rings.

"Who is it......" she asked in a low voice.

"I'm looking for Bathilda?? Madame Basshat, may I ask if she is there? "There was a cheerful voice outside the door, and it sounded as crisp as a lark.

Bassato stood still, she was a hospitable person, always welcoming every visitor who came to her door, but at the same time she was also a wizard, a witch, and usually had some strange abilities.

The dreams of people who know magic have meanings, and now, Bathilda feels her crumpled skin tighter than ever, they tighten like rubber bands, and then pull out one dense goosebump after another.

Her heart began to beat rapidly and violently, her pupils subconsciously contracted, and some intense discomfort swept through her body and mind.

She really didn't want to touch the doorknob, which gave her the illusion that when you opened the door, monsters like poisonous snakes, lions, and wolves would pounce on you and tear everything in the house to shreds.

"Yes...... Yes, she's here, who are you? I had time to visit an old woman who no one cared about...... but she opened the door tremblingly, perhaps Bathilda was too old for her brain's mind to control her body's subconscious movements.

Then, the door opened.

Four figures dressed in wide black robes and hooded heads stood in the doorway, as if they were really shadows in the moonlight, ready to dissipate at any moment.

The old woman almost unconsciously let the door open and let the four in, she was too tired to think like this for a long time, and perhaps she could still show the brilliance of wisdom in her youth, but now, to put it mildly, her brain was as loose as squirrel.

She couldn't tell whether she should let people in or not, and it didn't seem wrong to take the initiative to entertain the guests who came to visit, and besides, the other party still knew her name, and it was likely that he was a friend of the wizarding world, but the discomfort like being targeted by a snake made Bathilda a little dazed, but at this moment, several people had already entered the house.

At the front was a short man, thin and short, who looked like a half-sized man, several of them were obviously headed by him, the rest followed him, two of the three people behind him were quite tall, and standing at the end was a dwarf about the same height as Bathilda, who had already made a conclusion about the race of the man by instinct.

"Muggles?" The first words of the young man at the front of the line were incomprehensible to Mary and John, and the girl comforted herself that she was too young to learn the words of the world.

Bathilda could understand, but she still relied on her instinctive thoughts and thought: "This is not the person who called the door, it is a man, and the voice is very young, maybe he is really still a child?" ”

She rubbed her eyes, cataracts made it difficult for her to see things in front of her even if she was very close, so she simply gave her vision to instinctive feelings, Bathilda was too old to observe, analyze and think like she did when she was younger.

The vague figure walked naturally to the fire, without the slightest nervousness, restraint or discomfort, he was relaxed, but this relaxation could not infect the others around him, Bathilda's sober heart was very uneasy, this boy who sounded like a teenager made her nerves tense, and there was a sense of danger that she should stay away from immediately.

Fortunately, her brain is still chaotic, old, and sluggish, which keeps her from not even being able to take a step.

"Grandma Barty......" Mary frightenedly tugged at the corner of Rabahida's coat.

"They are the children of the village watchmakers." Bathilda whispered, "It's a Muggle, and they often come to me to hear stories. ”

"I'm sorry, can you please ask them to leave first, we have something for you, Madame Basshat." The young boy walked to the dark end of the room, and sat down on the bench by the rotten table, and then the glimmer could catch a glimpse of half of his body.

He paused and said, "Very important." ”。 The other three were still standing by the door.

"Honey, will you go home first...... Perhaps, we'll tell the story tomorrow......" Bathilda said vaguely.

The two children nodded desperately, as if their mouths were sewn up, and they could not open their mouths to speak, only their widening eyes showed how frightened they were.

The door creaked open, and Mary and John ran out in unison, toward the village square, which was lit up in the night.

"Well, sir, maybe I don't know you, but...... What do you want to know from me? Old Bathilda turned and walked slowly to the dimly lit part of the room, and then seemed to see the boy sitting there raise his hand and wave his wand, and a white fluorescent glow rose, and this time illuminated the whole room.

"I'm sorry, Madame Basshat." The boy lifted his hood to reveal a young face, an Asian face, and Bathilda exclaimed that sure enough, he had not guessed his age, that this was indeed a child.

"Let me introduce myself, my name is Ning An, I am from Durmstrang School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and I currently hold the position of headmaster."

Bathilda couldn't help but be a little speechless, the principal of the magic school, oh my God, Merlin is on top, I hope I heard it right, could it be that I haven't subscribed to the Daily Prophet for a few years, and the outside world has become like this.

Wait, maybe not, it's not impossible for a wizard to keep his face intact, and it might be possible to do it with potions or some ancient magic...... Could it be that the child in front of him is an old wizard of the same era as himself?

The brain was like a solidified paste, stirred by the injected information, and as Bathilda pondered these questions, he ignored the answers and fell silent, and for a moment the room could hear a pin drop.

Ning An looked unhurried, he sat on the stool, looked at the dirty and corrupt hut curiously, but did not arouse too much interest, and after waiting for a while, Bathilda seemed to finally react, she coughed a few times and said:

"Mr. Headmaster—ah, what are you looking for from me? You know I'm too old, ahem, to teach, and if you're coming to me to be Durmstrang's history professor, I'm sorry, I'm now-"

"Not really, Madame Basshat." Ning An smiled and said gently: "Although I myself also hope that you can be a professor of the history of magic, your achievements in this area are well-known and outstanding, but I understand your physical condition, so naturally I will not do such a difficult thing for a strong man, this time I came to see you, mainly because there are some issues I want to discuss with you." ”

The atmosphere in the room was relaxed, and Bathilda's tense nerves slowly relaxed after realizing that Ning An did not deliberately release any hostility towards her.

Brushing down her sparse gray hair, as if to lift her spirits, she stayed alone in this small town, half a foot into the loess almost far from the wizarding world, and could only tell Muggle children stories about wizards in history for fun.

At this time, a headmaster from Durmstrang School of Witchcraft and Wizardry suddenly asked him questions, and this feeling of being needed was still very satisfying for Bathilda.

It's been a long time since the Potters were murdered, and she hasn't met anyone to talk to properly.

Then, Ning An told Bahida about some of his discoveries in the process of learning the Rune script, and asked her a lot about the history of the Rune script, which obviously has a deep origin.

As Bathilda?? Batat is too old, this conversation has become very slow, Ning An believes that the current Bathilda's brain is indeed looser than squirrel, and sometimes he often says a word by himself, and it takes a long time for the other party to reflect it.

After talking for a long time, I finally got to the point.

"Exactly who created this writing is still distant, but I have a guess, Madame Basshat, have you ever heard of Muggle myths and legends?" Ning An looked at Bathilda's cloudy eyes and asked word by word.

"Oh, yes, of course I've heard, you can't just study history with our wizards, Muggles can't figure out the truth, but they sometimes help from the side."

Bathilda's train of thought seemed to gradually become clearer, and when it came to this topic, she suddenly became much more energetic, and her speed of speech gradually became faster, "I remember...... If that's right, it's called Odin, yes, Odin, that powerful ancient wizard, in fact I'm more inclined to think that it was the Rune script created by St. Barfela......"

"Yes, it's Odin." Ning An clapped his hand and interrupted Bathilda, and then, he leaned forward, put away his relaxed demeanor, looked at Bathilda seriously and attentively, and asked seriously: "Then, please tell me everything you know about Odin, Mrs. Batha." ”

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