Chapter 984 Money for a Bottle of Wine

Time is passing by unconsciously.

Speaking of it, although some unknown accidents seemed to have happened on the streets of London before, after the incident, there was no abnormality.

The mysterious wizard in the windbreaker disappeared silently without anyone knowing, just like when he came.

And as this Christmas holiday draws to a close, the impact of the London disaster seems to be fading day by day, even in the hearts of wizards living in the British magic world.

Under the treatment of Maca, a large part of St. Mungoli's injuries have been discharged from the hospital. Even Kingsley went back to the Ministry of Magic the day before yesterday and devoted himself to work again.

Looking at the wards in the hospital slowly vacating many beds, Maca knew that her free "special therapist" was finally coming to an end.

"Harry, Ron, you can almost go back to the Burrow."

As the evening approached, Maca performed regular checkups for the remaining patients as usual. When he saw Harry and the two of them skillfully packing the trolley and preparing to go back downstairs, he finally announced that their "punishment" was over.

But at the moment when they wanted to cheer for this, Maca smiled slightly and said:

"There are still a few days left, I think it's probably enough for you to finish your homework—don't try to find an excuse not to write it! Especially Professor Binns's thesis on the history of magic, finish it well!"

"Oh! Maca, are you a demon?" Ron said bitterly, "Can't you make me happy for a while!"

"Okay," Maca patted him on the shoulder, reminding him kindly, "Let's go! I'll take you to the door... If you want to have a hearty dinner at night, then hurry back now! Your mother doesn't know what you guys are doing today! When I go home, if I get back late, I will have whatever I have for dinner.

"

"Ah! That should be faster—" Ron slapped his thigh immediately, "Harry, let's go faster!"

Putting the trolley back into the warehouse, Maca accompanied the two through the glass of the main entrance and came to the street outside.

The weather has been pretty good in recent days, just like today, even London, which is dominated by wind and rain, is covered with the golden sunset. Looking at the street pavement reflecting the brilliance, Harry and Ron, who had been busy in St. Mungoire all day long, couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief.

To be honest, although they are also in the process of taking care of patients these days, they have deeply realized many truths in life. But even if the harvest is very fruitful, it will inevitably be infected by all kinds of pain and gloom.

Now that they stepped out of the environment full of life and death, their hearts could not help but relax after being bathed in the sun again.

"If you have any insights, wait until the evening to think about it!"

Maca glanced at it, and immediately saw through the thoughts of the two of them. But just as he was about to urge the two to leave, a fluttering sound of wings suddenly sounded from above his head, and then an owl landed on his shoulder.

"Cuckoo."

He conveniently took the envelope that the owl was holding in his hand.

"Who wrote to you?" Harry asked subconsciously.

"Don't worry about it," Maca took out the letter, unfolded it, glanced at it casually, and said while reading, "It's Mundungus, he just asked me to go to the bar to sit at night."

"Mundungus?" Ron said, "Isn't he in charge of intelligence? Did something happen again?"

From the reactions of the two, it can be seen that everyone is a little sensitive to small movements now, including Hermione and others who went home before them.

Maca shook his head and said:

"Even if it's really something, it's just a small thing-maybe bigger than your dinner today, but it's not as big as the homework you two haven't finished yet!"

After shooing Harry and Ron away, he unfolded the letter and read it again before putting it in the bag on his waist.

Yes, that letter was indeed just an invitation to a bar by Mundungus, and the information delivered in this unhurried manner would naturally not be very important.

only……

Turning his head slightly, Macafu took another look at today's gorgeous sunset. Muggles dressed in gold came and went on the side of the street, and traffic criss-crossed on the road-now this very normal street scene can be reproduced as before, and it has to be said that he is also a part of the credit.

Thinking about it this way, no matter how small the abnormality is, it's worth paying attention to, isn't it?

...

When night fell that night, Maca finally put down the quill in his hand after finishing his work.

I saw him carefully picking up the potion bottle on the table, and putting it away more cautiously at his waist. What was contained in that bottle was the source of disaster that he extracted from Willie's body.

In fact, since Haierbo left St. Mungo's, he started researching on this special item.

Compared with other "evils" similar to it, it is indeed very special—this is the first time Maca knows that the power of rules itself can be retained in the body in this form, and passed down from generation to generation along with the blood .

So the more he researched, the more he couldn't help but want to figure out one thing, that is, whether the power of other rules can also be stored in the wizard.

It's a pity that he has some clues about the rule runes in it, but he still has nothing to do with the blood-like red liquid substance.

As long as he can't place the power of rules elsewhere, he can't analyze the mystery of the substance itself.

Of course, today's research has come to an end, so he will not think about it for the time being.

There is never a rush to do research.

After tidying up the table, Maca left St. Mungo's, and quickly went upstairs to the Pig's Head pub in Hogsmeade through the Portkey.

And when he went down the stairs to the first floor, he immediately saw Aberforth wiping his glass behind the bar counter.

As for Mundungus... It seems that Maca was one step ahead.

"Hey, a butterbeer."

"Ok?"

Aberforth stopped wiping his glass for a moment.

"What, are you free?"

"Almost!" Maca sat down in front of the bar, looking at the drinkers in the bar and said, "I'm here to see Dunge, and I'll put this bottle on his account...St. Need me, obviously everyone is as fit as you are."

"Hmph," Aberforth curled his lips, and the big white beard on his chest shook slightly, "Let me see, there must be quite a few people who died...Here, butter beer! And , Mundungus is forbidden to keep accounts with me, if you want to drink now, you have to pay for it yourself."

"Then you can just pick someone and write it down! As long as it is someone I know—" Maca sighed, "I just received a treatment fee from a mother and daughter, and I don't want to touch it again today." money."

Hearing this, Aberforth couldn't help but glanced at him lightly.

"Have a story?"

Maca leaned against the bar, shrugged with a light smile.

"There is a story," he nodded slightly, "However, let's save it for the future..."

Accustomed to Dumbledore's younger brother's character habits, he can hear the other party's kindness. He knew that Aberforth wanted him to speak out, and if one more person shared it, it would be much better than keeping everything in his heart.

To be honest, Maca was grateful that Aberforth was willing to listen, but he still felt that it was obviously not a story that he could drink and talk in a bar.

At least, until things finally come to an end.

"You can say it or not," Aberforth didn't seem to care much, but then he said, "Then this bottle of butterbeer will be credited to Severus."

After Maca heard it, he was stunned for a moment, and then nodded at him.

"thanks."

Snape was discovered by Aberforth when he eavesdropped on Trelawney's prophecy in the early years, and he was put on the blacklist that he was never allowed to enter.

Now that Aberforth said that the butterbeer was charged to Snape's account, it was obviously just an excuse for his own treat.

Just when Maca, who happened to know about this matter, felt warm, he and Aberforth suddenly raised their heads at the same time, and looked in the direction of the door.

"he came."

It was Aberforth who said it.

Of course Maca knew that the wizard who came in from the door was Mundungus. Even though that guy's disguise was always clever, it was impossible for him to hide from his magic perception.

But what makes Maca often curious is, where did Aberforth tell it from?

He casually waved over there, and he put this irrelevant question aside.

"A glass of Firewhiskey."

Mundungus, who dressed himself up like a weird priest, took a seat not far from Maca. After ordering a glass of wine and putting the coins on the bar, he turned around.

"Oh, it's been a long time!" He whispered, "If you say that the British wizarding world is really scary recently, those of us who are at the bottom have been hiding in the corners all day long, and only recently dared to show our heads - St. Mungo What's going on over there?"

"Is it you or me who is running the intelligence?" Maca said with a narrow eye, ignoring him.

With Mundungus' sharp eyesight, he could tell from Maca's tone that he was probably in a bad mood, and immediately said with a smile:

"Hey! Isn't there no way, St. Mungo is guarding you now, and our brothers can't get in at all... That's what I said, don't worry about it."

"Come on!" Maca shook her head and said, "You can't get in inside, but don't all the patients come out? If you want to say something nice, just pay more attention to it—or seriously, call me this time, Is there any new gossip?"

If this stuff is accurate, it won't be put in a bar and talked directly face to face, it must be written in cipher text and sent to Lupine's side. In the current situation, it is all information that this guy finds suspicious, but on the surface it is not a big deal.

"Well, actually, this time it's about the Muggle side..."

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