Chapter 16: Letters

None of this has anything to do with Melda, though.

Recently he received a letter from Headmaster Dumbledore...

It was the principal's letter, which frightened Melda, and when he got it, he thought it was a notice to expel him.

Although he has been on a number of night trips since the beginning of the school year, he has also participated in first-year fights, and later helped George and Fred plan to attack Slytherin students.

But even so, he's still a good student.

Believe me! Headmaster!!!

β€”β€”β€”β€”β€”β€”β€”β€”β€”β€”β€”β€”β€”β€”β€”β€”

In the auditorium, Melda is clutching a large chicken leg in both hands, and he is battling the bones and flesh of the chicken leg. The flesh is really hard to bite.

Suddenly, a familiar old voice came from behind him.

"Mr. Corris, it looks like you're going to be out of school for a while." At some point, Headmaster Dumbledore quietly came behind Melda.

"Don't, Professor, I promise to abide by the school rules in the future, you can't fire me." The letter in her hand, Melda didn't have time to open it in a hurry.

At this moment, when he saw the old principal coming over, he didn't hurry up and grabbed the letter and pretended to be scared half to death. He said in a miserable and tactful tone, and he even squeezed out a tear from the corner of his eye.

"Huh? I think you're mistaken, I don't mean to fire you. Dumbledore smiled, "Of course not. ”

"Huh?"

"I think you should have read the letter first." A hint of cunning flashed in the old principal's blue eyes. It seems that this unusually naughty student will finally be able to stop for a few days.

"Oh, okay."

Melda, with mixed feelings, slowly opened the letter.

"Melda. Estes. Accra. Corris"

"It's time to go home and see."

Well? Just a word?

Melda looked at the envelope in her hand with some confusion, and it was clearly written on the envelope that it was sent from France, the Pyrenees, and the town of Franche.

That's the address of his house, but why let him go home? It's only been a month since school started, could it be that something happened at home?

It's impossible, can he still not know his own background? He has no parents since he was a child, only his grandfather, and his grandfather also disappeared for no reason a few years ago. In other words, there is no talent in his family at all.

Could it be that Grandpa is back?

Even if he came back, he should have come to Hogwarts to find him, how could he let him go home alone as a first-year student?

I really don't understand.

"Professor, the letter says let me go home."

"yes, I see." Dumbledore looked at Melda and said thoughtfully, "Maybe you should go to Floo.com, I think the Corris family's mansion in England should still be usable." ”

Melda looked at Dumbledore in some dismay.

Professor, you know too much.

"It works, I've checked."

"Really? Then without further ado, you can use the fireplace in the principal's office. Dumbledore continued to speak gently, completely unnervous about returning to France alone for a first-year student.

After saying that, he was about to leave, but as if he remembered something, the old headmaster suddenly withdrew his legs, turned around, and said mysteriously: "Today's password is chilled lemon juice." I think you know how to use it. ”

"Hmmm......"

Melda was a little confused about the current situation, he was a little confused, and he could keenly feel that everything that had just happened seemed to be a little out of the original Harry Potter story.

But it wasn't until he walked through the spiral staircase to the gleaming oak door that Melda couldn't think of a reason.

"Hey." Sighing slightly, adjusting her mentality, Melda finally decided to go back and see what was going on, thinking that the old headmaster would not harm herself.

Then he commanded the statue in the shape of a sphin's eagle head in front of him: "Chilled lemon juice." ”

As the massive statue slowly rotated, a staircase leading to the headmaster's office gradually revealed.

After entering the door, it was a spacious, circular room filled with all sorts of funny things.

On the table with slender legs are many strange silverwares.

They swirled, spewing small puffs of smoke.

The walls are covered with portraits of old headmasters. There is also a huge table in the room with claw-shaped legs. On a shelf behind the desk, the school's sorting hat sits, and in a black cabinet opposite it is a meditation basin.

Melda had never been to the principal's office, but he had learned a lot about the dΓ©cor from the books and films.

Professor Dumbledore, he understands everything. It's not uncommon to have these 'childlike' things.

"You're the heir of House Estes?"

"Yes. Principal Dexter. ”

From Melda's first steps into the office, he was keenly aware that the eyes of the headmaster's portraits were on him.

"The prophecy turned out to be true!" The portrait of the headmaster named Dexter Fosco said in surprise. His eyes kept looking back and forth over Melda's body, as if trying to see through him.

"You're very different."

"In two hundred years, you are already the third descendant of Estes to stand here."

"Perhaps," Principal Dexter said, stunned.

"Prophecy? What prophecy. Can you elaborate on that? ”

On the other side, Melda was also looking at the portrait of Headmaster Dexter, which was placed on the far right near the dome, and the material from which he was made did not give a sense of preciousness, but rather a bit cheap.

Melda didn't recognize the old man in the portrait, but perhaps in commemoration, each portrait of the principal's office had a name engraved on the bottom border.

The name 'Dexter Fosco' is engraved on the border of the one who speaks.

It was a very old wizard, with a snow-white beard and wrinkles that made him look at least 150 years old.

He was dressed in an elaborate magical robe, which was different from the modern robes, and the wizard's robes with ancient magic patterns were definitely not a product of modern times. From this, Melda can conclude that this is at least a Hogwarts headmaster around the Middle Ages.

"Oh, I don't remember exactly, child, you know, the span of time is too long, and even this well-made portrait can't withstand the erosion of time." Principal Dexter's cloudy eyes seemed to light up for a moment.

His expression was a little excited, and his eyes couldn't help but show a look of pride.

"It was a magnificent time..."

"Melda, your ancestor, Mr. Accra, was undoubtedly a great legendary mage."