Chapter 398 Facts and Suspicions

Back at Hogwarts, Zhao Mai still had some time to worry about the potion store before school officially started. Most of his funds were spent on testing and manufacturing flu medicine, and there were still some gems and gold left, but he was unwilling to be exploited by the goblins of Gringotts, so there was no problem in using it to live. He wanted to carry out research and It's a bit difficult to practice.

It is a true saying that the poor in literature and the rich in martial arts require a lot of resources to break through the physical and mental limits. Fortunately, Zhao Mai is a druid. The healing ability of the natural force saves him from consuming a lot of medicine. The main thing about spells is to communicate with the natural will and form mutual understanding before commanding, rather than studying like a mage. The principles of each spell can also save a lot of money.

Originally, Zhao Mai thought that his flu prescription could bring in some income, even if it was just to recover the cost. Unexpectedly, the Allied Powers - mainly the United States and Britain - took his prescription and nothing happened. The flu outside is still raging and seems to be getting worse. Although some prescriptions have appeared, they are not as targeted as those made by Zhao Mai.

"How is Edith? She is still in Oxford. Is she okay recently?" Zhao Mai asked Tolkien when he saw him. Tolkien has been very busy recently. In addition to writing articles, he seems to be helping the Ministry of Magic "translate" some things from the Muggle world into a guideline that is easy for wizards to understand. Zhao Mai also "caught" Tolkien in the cafeteria after encountering him several times.

"She is doing well now and is doing some temporary work at the school. I prepared some flu medicine, which she diluted and mixed in the school's drinking water. It can also play a role in preventing and preventing recurrence. It's just a pity that the amount of medicine is too much. Edith always hopes to get more, but..." Tolkien looked at Zhao Mai and let out a long sigh: "All the materials in the potion store are out of stock, and the government has nothing to do. "

"This shows that the opponent has come in front of us." Zhao Mai said to Tolkien: "Not long ago, I went to the Forbidden Forest to collect medicine and met the tribe of humans and horses inside. They were also infested by the Spanish Flu, and the earliest onset time Earlier than the people outside. The people don’t like to leave the Forbidden Forest, but two of them have disappeared. According to their chief, these two people were sick at the time, and they were probably kidnapped.”

"Are you saying that it's possible that humans and horses were the original source of the disease?"

"They may not be the original, but they should be the earliest known so far." Zhao Mai said: "If you believe the Centaur Chief, you must know that only wizards can enter the Forbidden Forest, then the whole thing is likely to be a wizard made."

"It's unlikely that wizards poison humans, right? If wizards do it, what's their purpose? The whole incident does no good to wizards, and they themselves will also be infected with the disease and may die." Erjin shook his head: "I don't believe this was initiated by a wizard, and although the curse you mentioned does look like a magic spell, I have also checked and there is no magic spell with similar effects. You are also very... It’s hard to be sure it’s from a wizard, right?”

"Do you only believe in absolute conclusive evidence?"

"I believe in hard evidence, and I believe in you, Mike. But sometimes you think things are too bad." Tolkien said: "Instead of spending a lot of mental energy on conjectures, it is better to worry about what is going to happen soon." Sorting Ceremony. I hope to enter Gryffindor, what about you?"

"It doesn't matter, any one is fine." Zhao Mai saw that Tolkien was really not interested in discussing the flu conspiracy, so he no longer forced it and turned the topic back to the magic school: "I can take any class, whichever college I go to. Either way is fine. But I hope that everyone can be in the same college, so that we can still take care of each other and there will be no conflicts due to competition between colleges."

"Conflict? Even if children would do that, we definitely won't." Tolkien said with a smile: "Ah, I have to go to class with middle school students again. It really feels weird. Fortunately, I am old enough Now, you can take the Ultimate Wizard Level Examination and graduate at any time. You don’t have to wait for so many years. This is the only good news. By the way, when are you going to complete the exam?"

"Me? You also know what my magic spell is like, how could you pass the exam?" Zhao Mai smiled bitterly, and then said: "No one thought that the magic spell you invented for me really works, but this also proves that I can't cast spells using the magic spells that wizards use today. Unless the Ministry of Magic becomes more open-minded one day and is willing to change the examination standards, I may have to repeat the grade forever."

"Eternal eighth-grade senior." Tolkien couldn't help laughing, and the smile under his mustache was clearly visible. Every time he talks about magic spells, he is quite proud. After all, not everyone can create a real magic language. Zhao Mai is very cautious about this matter and hopes that Tolkien will not make any noise yet. However, Tolkien believed that this was due to Zhao Mai's consistent personality: he always seemed to view the world from the perspective of conspiracy theories and thought of things very badly. Although the most comprehensive and far-reaching arrangements can be made from this perspective, wouldn't it be too unhappiness-inducing to live like that?

Tolkien loved linguistics, especially the creation of various languages ​​and the accumulation of history in these languages. A civilization without stories, legends, and myths is empty, and so is language. Therefore, based on his own experiences on the battlefield and in memory of his friends who died on the battlefield, he began to write "Lost Stories" to celebrate the birth of a cursed language by creating a legend. He sent the draft of the story home together with the magic spell for his wife to keep, hoping that she would also participate and help him inspire.

When the first draft of the book was finished, he decided to show it to Zhao Mai as a gift to commemorate their friendship. Since it's a gift, it's best to be accompanied by a surprise, so it needs to be kept a secret for now. He smiled, imagining the look on Mike's face when he received the gift.

"Eternal eighth grade is actually nothing. I find that if you are doing magic research, it is better to be in Hogwarts outside." Zhao Mai has heard about eighth grade so many times that it has long since become indifferent. Even if he never graduates, it is because of the examination system and does not mean that he lacks ability. "There is a potion garden, various laboratories, a large library, a cafeteria, and a relatively isolated environment. Moreover, I can go to class if I want to, and run away if I don't want to. Do you think there is a better life than this? ?”

"You're hopeless!" Tolkien shook his head, packed up his plate, and walked away.