Draco knelt down, his expression indescribable.
He carefully fanned his face with his hand, sniffing the smell carefully, and carefully discerned the faint aroma through his nose that had not yet had time to be clogged by the harsh winter.
Among the three, he was the only one who was born into a noble family, and he was the only one who could distinguish the mixed smells - spice identification has always been a basic course for nobles.
"This is elderberry." He looked at the dark coffin. Although the black paint would cover everything, it was obviously old enough to peel off and reveal the wooden texture. "Blood, no doubt... rust The smell is so strong that it can make me suffocate." He shrugged his nose with a disgusted expression, "Then... rose, camphor, and about 30% moonlight grass mixed with I don't know what kind of grass it is. The stuff...why does it still smell like apples? Who would use apple juice to smoke a coffin?"
The portrait on the wall says nothing about it.
"Do you want us to open it, sir?" Harry said. "Who is lying in here?"
The answer was actually coming out, that name made Draco feel respectful even when he thought about it, but it hadn't come out yet, and it was most likely a scam, so Harry called him sir. Hermione also held her breath and said nothing, obviously realizing who they were seeing.
"Actually, that's not my original intention." The voice - the man - the man who is most likely the most famous dark wizard in history said, "At least that's not what I wanted the child to come down for. I heard that There will be kids who can speak Parseltongue at hogwarts, but I don't want to disturb your life." He pointed at Hermione and said, "But now I need you to open it."
"It's nailed so tight," Draco couldn't help complaining as he looked at the coffin, "How are we going to open it?"
"I'll do it." Harry stretched out his hand and moved his fingers like plucking strings. All the silver nails on the coffin softened and turned into liquefied silver beads that floated. After solidifying, they fell to the ground. The sound Crisp.
"Wingardim Leviosa!" Draco pointed his wand at it and used a levitating spell. At first, the square lid was a little stagnant because the edges were too long and stuck to the coffin. Harry let the silver beads After gently slicing open the long dead area, the lid swayed up with a click.
"To be honest, this is my first time to open a coffin, haha," Harry said. "I feel very guilty now - this is not a good behavior in normal times. Qiu said that it is unethical to dig up other people's ancestral graves and open other people's coffins. "
Draco gave him a crazy look: "Did you make a mistake? You didn't prescribe it yourself. Why are you guilty?"
"Um, I don't know? I just feel guilty." Harry touched his nose, which was red from the cold, and summoned a handful of flames to keep himself warm.
The lid was completely opened and thrown aside, revealing the contents of the coffin.
"…………"
"…………"
"…………"
Draco, Harry, and Hermione, none of the three children could speak.
After a long silence, Harry, the boldest among them, spoke:
"I was prepared to see bones, or I wouldn't be surprised to see a lot of snakes coming out of it...but I really didn't expect to see this."
"Agreed, I thought I would see a lot of spider webs and bugs." Draco said.
hermione: "I really don't understand you boys... I thought that was how it was supposed to be!"
"Really? Then why can't you say a word?" Draco laughed.
"I just... I didn't know it would be so shocking." Hermione murmured, unable to take her eyes away from the coffin, "It... he's so, so..." She couldn't find any suitable adjectives for a moment. .
Inside the coffin is a wonderful scene that even a top painter cannot paint. Harry said that if there really was one, he would definitely be a genius who could surpass Monet and make Leonardo da Vinci angry to death.
A young man with black hair lay quietly inside, lying in a coffin covered with blood-red velvet. He looked older than the portrait and the ghost, but he was not inferior to them in any way. Instead, he seemed like their graceful eldest brother, with a charm that his younger brothers did not have. His black hair is shorter than them, and every strand is still shiny, and is softly padded on the back of his head; his facial features are deeper, and his eyelashes are thick and long, trembling slightly due to exposure to the air. . His skin was as pale as theirs, but his lips were still full of blood. Although he didn't even have a breath left, his blood seemed to be still flowing in the veins under his skin, as if he would open his eyes in the next second.
He was wearing very heavy clothes. He wore a cloak with snake patterns woven with silver threads, and underneath were layers of yellowed clothes. The pure black and silver colors perfectly complemented his black hair and fair skin. The silver base of the unpolished emerald jewelry on his chest has turned black, which shows how old it is - but even so, it is still full of a primitive but luxurious flavor. Today's jewelry makers will not dare to pick on it, but will send it to antique shops to be offered up.
The simple clothes have turned yellow and black, the lid of the coffin has grown on it, and the silver nails are no longer shiny. However, the sleeping man is still as beautiful as before, and time seems to have never taken away from him. Nothing, except the breath that makes the body rise and fall.
It's like the prince stepped into the castle a thousand years after Sleeping Beauty fell asleep. Everything there was from a thousand years ago, except for the beauty sleeping on the tower and her servants. Their time was stopped. At the most critical moment, that day when the prince climbed up the tower, he was shocked by the princess, not because of her beauty, but because of her unchanging appearance.
Everything in that castle is dead and will soon decay over time. Only her beauty is brand new, fresh and the most precious.
That's like the gift of magic - ah, that's the gift of magic.
"Is he... dead? Are you dead?" Hermione couldn't help but ask, "This... you look completely, completely alive!"
The lips of a dead person cannot be so red, and the cheeks of a dead person cannot have such a color. The man in the coffin seems to be still sleeping and will wake up in the next second.
"He is dead." The portrait had been silent just now, looking at the children who were shocked and speechless with a tolerant look, and now he replied, "Otherwise I would not exist. I have existed for a long time, children. , which means he is already dead.”
He called them children, as if he looked so young and was much older than them. This should have made them feel weird, but even the most arrogant Malfoy had no objection.
If they were only half-doubtful before, they almost all believe it now. Just as the books they had read said, there are countless wizards who can flexibly use snake language, and there are only a handful of wizards left in Britain. Such a dead bloodline.
"Are they the children of the Malfoy family?" The man looked at the three children, "I didn't expect that the descendants of the Malfoy family would look like this to this day."
Draco's first reaction was that his heart started beating wildly. His ancestors could be traced back so far. He didn't know whether to say he was honored or to ask the man what he looked like first.
"As for you, kid." He looked at Harry with a gentler look than he looked at Draco, although it was only relatively gentle, "What's your last name? Potter or Black? Your facial features are more like the descendants of the latter, but you have a messy head. black hair."
"Well, sir, my late father's surname was Potter." Harry laughed when he heard this description, "My grandmother is said to be black."
"Wonderful bloodline. Finally, you, child, Godric's student," the man looked at Hermione, "I think I need your help - although the method is wrong, I apologize to you, but I must ask you, You need to do this for me."
Before Hermione could say anything with a blushing face, the man knocked on the picture frame: "Of course, this is not free. Before that, I have to solve a problem first. The boy from the Potter family who can speak snake language, stands Come to me.”
Harry stood over obediently, like a student waiting for the principal to issue a diploma, with a straight spine and a curious and expectant smile, except that he would sneeze from time to time.
The man looked at him carefully and unhappily.
"Have you experienced the killing curse?"
"Yes, sir."
"Are you in poor health? For example, are you particularly sensitive to the cold, have a fever that persists during one season every year, or do you have nightmares for a long time?"
"Both, sir, but my health has been much better since I was three years old."
"Did you have an adoptive father," the man continued, "or study under a respectable teacher? Did he learn any sophisticated magic?"
"I have a very respectable father," Harry said, "but he doesn't know magic."
The man nodded, thoughtfully like a doctor after listening to a patient's statement. Then he nodded to the ghost standing there, and the ghost who looked exactly like him stretched out his cold fingers and pressed them against Harry's temple before Draco and Hermione rushed over, as if he had dipped his fingers in honey. Pulling out a sticky pearl-colored thread from his head, he threw it away expressionlessly, and it dissipated in the air.
Harry: "What is that?"
Draco swallowed: "Sir, was that caused by black magic?"
The man said expressionlessly: "It's the stupid residue that someone else left on you."
Harry: "…………"
Well, since he didn't want to explain, Harry didn't want to ask. Anyway, he only knew that after the thing was thrown away, he was completely transformed - his head no longer hurts, and his body was stronger than before, although the cold was not immediately cured. The land is good, think about it, it is also a matter of time.
"Will he not be so afraid of the cold in the future?" Hermione asked, "Will his health never be this bad again?"
"It won't be so bad that you will die easily." The man said, "There is no way to really make up for the lost part - what I do is to prevent continued uncompensated losses, and part of the lost money will gradually come back on its own."
"Uh, okay, I didn't understand a word," Harry said, touching his nose. "But I'm definitely feeling better."
"Oh, that means we have to wrap you up like a dandelion next winter?" Draco said.
"I don't know, but this winter is really unusual," Harry said. "My cold has never been so stubborn."
"Your temper has never been so terrible!" Draco said immediately, "It's a nightmare!"
Harry smiled his usual shy, embarrassed smile. He did seem to be in better spirits, so the smile looked very good, but Draco was used to his behavior, and now he felt a headache.
"How should I call you, sir." Harry turned to the portrait and said.
Although they all know the answer, they still have to go through the procedures.
"Salazar," the man said, "you should have known who I was when you saw my portrait."
Hermione immediately took a breath of excitement. Harry was a little surprised, but not that surprised. After all, anything can happen in the magical world. Considering the whole thing, it is very unreasonable that the founder's portrait is not in Hogwarts.
Draco, who was at the bottom of the steps, pinched himself hard to make sure he wasn't hallucinating, and almost immediately gave a very formal salute to the picture frame. Among the three of them, he was the only one who was a slytherin. Even if his heart seemed to be beating out of his chest with excitement, he had to finish this before stuffing his heart back out of his throat.
"Little girl of Gryffindor," Salazar said to Hermione, "I need you to do something, which is why I need to ask him to drag you down."
He was talking about the ghost, and they all knew it.
The little girl could hardly suppress her excited voice: "I - I am honored! Your Excellency - Your Excellency, I mean, Dear Sir Slytherin, as long as I can do it, I will -"
"You need to bring me the Sorting Hat," Salazar said bluntly, "and pull out the Gryffindor's sword for me."
His eyes fell on the silent ghost beside him.
"Then, help me... destroy them."
He didn't say what they were - but standing in front of him were three of the smartest students, and they already knew it very well.
……………………
"You wear this." Draco pulled out a coat from his cabinet, curled his lips, and watched Harry come out of the bathroom, shivering on the sofa in his dormitory, flicking his wand to light the fireplace in the room, and sure enough, Much warmer.
After they came out of the basement with Salazar's portrait, they went straight to the Slytherin dormitory through a path. There was no one in the dormitory now. Some girls who didn't like to watch the game were chattering about the new clothes. Harry alone could lead Draco to the end of the corridor, which was Draco's dormitory as the chief.
They were all wet, and even the magic lamp and scarf they had brought with them had fallen off. Harry thought that if he returned to Ravenclaw like this, he might be punished by a bunch of seniors, so he went back to Slytherin with Draco, hoping to use a friend's bathroom. Take a warm, hot bath.
"Thank you." Harry felt embarrassed after taking the coat, "I'm sorry to trouble you this time."
"I just need to borrow the bathroom and a few clothes," Draco turned his back and said in a fierce voice, "I can't fit the clothes in the cabinet - ever since you had a godfather, my mother buys them for me every time I’ll leave some clothes for you, you lucky guy.”
Harry smiled on the sofa: "Mrs. Malfoy is indeed gentle and considerate - but if it wasn't for your sake, how could she be so considerate, Draco."
Draco hummed back, and Harry understood that it meant satisfaction.
"Go take a shower and get dressed properly," Draco said slightly sourly, "I don't want my uncle to strangle me to death during the holidays - just because I didn't take care of my poor little cousin."
So Harry picked up the coat and compared it. He stood up and took a look. He was currently wearing Draco's clean shirt and Draco's trousers - the legs and sleeves were all a little shorter, but the waistline was so loose that Harry could reveal it if he raised his hand slightly. A fair belly under the shirt.
"...Is your dad hungry for you?" Draco was also looking at him, his brows knitted together with a mocking look on his face, "You are as thin as a chicken frame."
This is not very detailed, because even with the most critical eyes, Harry has a considerable figure for an eleven-year-old boy - he exercises regularly and has adequate nutrition. Unlike Charles, he is not picky about food, and Like Charles, he is well versed in the charm of all kinds of food, so even if his waist is a little thin, he is definitely a strong child, not to mention that he has an aunt who cares about his figure, and his aunt will not watch him lose weight. Shelves.
Harry blinked innocently: "...Draco, I'm just growing taller. You should drink more milk. Black tea and juice can't help you grow taller."
"Shut up." Draco said without hesitation, pushed him into the bathroom, and told him: "You can use the first and second bath products on the left as you like. On the right are my personal skin care products - use them You’re done.”
"That's weird," Harry said, holding back a laugh, "I thought I would see a row of hairspray, after all you always make your hair look like that - did you know that too much hairspray can make you go bald, Draco?"
Draco's answer was to put his foot into the bathtub, making him a naked drowned rat again, and then slammed the bathroom door shut.
As the heat was rising, Harry's laughter could be heard echoing in the bathroom.
………………
Peter was restless in front of Charles.
The man in front of him who made his father fascinated - yes, fascinated -, the top good man who treated him very well, the head of mutants, the man who was an unshaven and decadent man ten years ago, He was looking at him with a very dumbfounded expression.
"So you already knew." Peter wanted to turn around and leave immediately, but he knew that the person in front of him would definitely not let him do that. "You deliberately sent him out."
"I was still wondering when you would choose to confess," Charles said honestly. "Don't worry, Peter, he doesn't know - rather than me telling him to catch him off guard, I'd rather you tell him in person."
There was a photo in front of them. The photo was a bit old, but it could be vaguely seen that the woman in it was a beauty, youthful and energetic.
"Okay, I thank you for sending him out," Peter said, touching his nose, "But don't you think...it's best not to tell him about this? You see, it's not easy for you, huh, right Right? I don’t want to be a bad guy who destroys other people’s families.”
"You're saying - oh, oh, my God," Charles didn't quite understand what he meant at first, but he realized in the next second. He felt guilty and dumbfounded, "Peter, you know I won't mind this. - It doesn’t matter at all, and Erik, do you know how happy he will be once he knows he has an extra son?”
"That's you," Peter muttered, "He doesn't seem to need another son."
When Charles heard this, he put away his smile and said seriously:
"I have to say that what you think is not true." He said, "You don't know what a good person he is - as much as he loves Nina, he will love you as much. You are his son, not a burden. , think about it, even if he doesn’t know it now, he appreciates you very much.”
"Yes, yes, the premise is that I am not his son." Peter remained uncertain about 'what a good person he is' in his heart, and replied: "A mutant descendant who saved him and an embarrassing adult son , I think the former is more likable.”
"You even saved him, when you didn't know he was your father,"
Peter didn't answer this time. He looked up at the ceiling, as if it was covered with pudding.
"Peter," Charles called him in an aggravated tone. The latter still didn't want to raise the question again, so he softened his tone, "Do you know how I know?"
"Of course you know you can play around with anyone's mind if you want."
Peter shrugged.
"No," Charles smiled, "I won't randomly explore other people's minds - but you know what? When I saw you ten years ago, my first thought was that you look really stubborn. Annoying, just like that annoying Erik."
Peter couldn't help but burst into laughter.
"Is it really that similar?"
"It's really that similar." Charles sighed.
The teenage peter was like a livelier erik at the time. He might be naughty and cool, but when he first looked at them in the basement, the unhappiness on his face and his youthful features were indeed... It's very similar to the Erik who was burdened with hatred many years ago, except that the unhappiness was just unhappiness.
After all, he has a mother who loves him and is a good child who grew up in a safe life. He should be different from Erik.
"I always thought you were already our family." Charles said sincerely, "Think about it, it's not without traces. You like Nina, you like Harry, and you hate things made in microwave ovens as much as Erik. I liked you the first time I saw you, and Harry felt that you were like his big brother. You two always had endless whispers, and you, ahem," Charles felt a little embarrassed when he said this, "you really should be The relationship is like a brother, and I always feel that if Harry can grow up to be a young man like you, I will have no regrets."
When Peter heard these words, he couldn't help but feel the same heat in his heart and face, as if the sweet milk flowing down his throat warmed his whole body and mind. If other women said such things, Peter would guess that they were probably polite words, but the person sitting in front of him was none other than Charles, the man who always opened his broad mind to others, the man who loved the world and all the people in it. People's people.
His dad does look extremely lucky, Peter thought. If he had been born earlier, he might have been fascinated by Charles. Just like his mother said, for a person like his father to meet someone like Charles who matches him, the chance is extremely low.
Because they are the same pair of golden people cast by God, equally dazzling and of equal weight, but one needs the other, and neither one is complete without them.
They are a perfect match.
Peter said, "Well... I do, um, you know, I do think of them that way. They are... my younger brothers and sisters, and I like this feeling. I mean taking care of my younger brothers and sisters. But... Charles, I don't have a problem with you or Eric, it's just that... I'm not ready yet." At this moment, he suddenly had a flash of inspiration, "Maybe I should wait until you guys get married. talk about it later."
"I regret to inform you that we don't have this idea for the time being," Charles said in embarrassment, "We just confirmed our relationship -"
"Oh, I know, I know, you just love him and don't care about marriage or not." Peter immediately raised his hand to show that he understood, "But Charles, this matter is really not urgent. I just want to find Wanda now - I want to My sister is back."
"Okay, let's go now - we will have both children and children at once. It seems that Erik still has some strength, doesn't he?" Charles pushed the wheelchair out from behind the desk and looked at Peter with a smile, the pair of incredibly beautiful blue He blinked, "I think that must be a beautiful girl."
"Oh, I think so too."
Peter stepped forward to help Charles push the wheelchair with a sharp eye, his technique was skillful and steady, just like every son who obeys his father.
They went out from the study room and when passing by the living room, they found the children watching TV and chattering about something.
"What are you watching? Children?" Charles asked casually. You must know that these children are more interested in fun than news, so they usually don't watch the news. "Did the news station change to a beautiful anchor?"
"Someone is attacking Avengers Tower and Stark Industries!" A boy answered him excitedly, "I think the Avengers are going to attack again!"
"Oh, it seems they are making a new movie again." A girl said nonchalantly, crossing her legs to paint her nail polish, "I hope the enemy this time will be better-looking, the face of the evil god that Harry bought is so awesome It’s so ugly.”
"This time it's a beauty," John showed an interesting smile, "Let's start by guessing whether aliens will invade or magic will change the world this time... I'll go! Whoever hits me!"
Charles looked at the empty space behind him, then looked at the TV, and couldn't help but hold his breath.
"...I think it's a mutant this time, John." He said, "I'm afraid your bet won't work."
The TV was showing a video - inside the brightly lit building, in a scene that was obviously a party, a young girl wearing a red fur coat was frozen on the screen. She made an obvious fighting gesture, with flashing lights on her hands. There was a red light, and there was a cold look on his face that was quite familiar to Charles, a mixture of hatred and unwillingness.
If you have seen that expression somewhere, then there is no doubt that Charles has seen such an expression on Erik's face. It is so similar. Even if the girl does not look like him, there are some things that are obviously not visible from the facial features. You can see it.
The beautiful girl had long brown hair and a hot figure. She was a top beauty. When Charles saw her face, he immediately understood why Peter was missing.
"——Erik! Eric, where are you? I need to talk to you about something!!" Charles immediately turned the wheelchair to find his old friend and lover, "I think Peter needs a little help - and I think we A new mutant has been discovered!”
——The girl with a cold expression, apart from her pair of green eyes and some colder facial lines, she is almost 90% similar to Peter's mother.
She is Eter's twin sister and Erik's eldest daughter, there is no doubt about it.
The author has something to say: I'm stuck... I can't control the part of the secret room. I have to think about it again. Let's watch the family drama about a man with a cross first...
Everyone knows that the portrait is Salazar, and the one with the blond hair is not sure who it is. I had conceived their story three years ago, but how to... write it was really a test for me. One more thing. I can't write down this plot that I love, so the pace is a bit slow, and I'm a slow-moving person. I'm sorry~ but I promise that I will update diligently and never be lazy.
ps: It’s so cold in Wuhan... My hands typing are frozen. Hey, hey, hey, I want to huff~
