Harry Potter Morning Light.

Chapter 2854 Hagrid's Holiday ([-])
Compared with the daytime, most of the bees and butterflies that can pollinate the flowers have already rested, and the plants that bloom at night usually have a strong fragrance, because no matter how beautiful the flowers grow in the dark, they cannot be seen clearly. Come to attract passing insects and honey-eating bats for pollination.

What's even more peculiar is that some plants will act like mirrors, feeding back the ultrasonic waves emitted by bats clearly and powerfully, allowing the bats to precisely locate and penetrate into the flowers seamlessly.

The long tongue of the bat stretches out like a spring, touching the nectaries of the flower buds, causing the anthers to burst from the keel, and the pollen will paint the bat golden. At this time, the bat's fur shows excellent ability to carry pollen. It can support dozens of bumblebees.

The bell-shaped flowers help with echo reflection, which existed before humans forged bells.That black fritillary flower isn't big enough for bats to fly in, but it's not just hummingbirds that hover, bats do too.

The flapping of the wings will create a cool wind, but unfortunately there are no windows in the cellar, and it is very hot in summer. She lifted the fabric covering her body to feel a little cool.

However, not long after, she still felt very hot and struggled uncomfortably, as if trying to get rid of the hotness.

At this time, she thought of her pajamas, it was like grandma's, it didn't matter in winter, but it was too hot to wear in summer.

It's better to buy a silk pajamas, she thought drowsily, and then felt much cooler, as if she really had a silk pajamas on her body.

She rolled over contentedly, and then fell into an embrace, with hot breath on her neck, as if she was leaning against a wall.

When the opponent's hand slowly slid down her delicate back, she felt a little shuddering instead, and her goosebumps stood on end.

Then that hand rested on her waist, rubbed it lightly a few times in tranquility, and then a kiss fell, reminding her of the honey-eating bat just now.

In fact, the bat's eyes are almost blind, and it mainly relies on sound waves, but that doesn't mean it can't see anything.

' He said he could see me. '

This made her feel more satisfied than any love words.

The clothes made a rustling sound, and she realized that he was wearing clothes. She really wanted to see what the muscles hidden under the clothes looked like.

"I can give you what you want." She heard another person say behind her. "It is a blessing to be able to give full play to your talents."

She woke up suddenly, and the regular ringing of the bell sounded in her ears, which sounded like it came from the monastery.

When she regained consciousness, she felt her lips hurt a little, then she picked up the mirror and found a small cut.

She actually didn't remember what happened after she passed out in the black sea of ​​flowers. She subconsciously looked at the clothes she was wearing and found that it had turned into a silk nightdress.

It was subconsciously changed in her dream, because it was too hot...

"Oh, Merlin." She covered her face, but felt her ears were red.

She rolled around on the bed, trying to erase those shameful memories, but more images came to her mind.

The clock is still ringing, one, two, three...

She sat up, intending to continue her regular life, even though today was the first day of summer vacation.

However, when her legs touched the ground, a powerful force rushed straight to her forehead.

In the damp and dark dungeon, there was a dragon lying on the ground. At first she thought it was alive, but when she entered, she found that it was carved from stone.

It seemed to be protecting something, and when she wanted to see what was hidden under its stomach, the power disappeared, and she returned to her bedroom again.

She looked at the ground under her feet. She didn't lay wooden floors or carpets, but the floor tiles of the castle itself.

According to legend, the castle was built with ancient magic.

She picked up the two-way mirror she had set aside.

This time she didn't call his name, his face had appeared on the other side.

"Is there a stone dragon in the dungeon?" asked Pomona.

"Why are you asking that?" Severus asked.

"Do Not Disturb the Sleeping Dragon," she said softly, "Can you go check out that sculpture?"

"Okay, shall we go now?"

"You've got a whole day and we'll probably be back at night," Pomona said.

"Remember the library I took you to last time? Meet there," Severus said.

"no problem."

"See you then." After he finished speaking, he turned the mirror over.

Pomona sat on the edge of the bed in a daze for a while, then put on her slippers and stood up slowly.

She felt like an old man, tired and weak, but when she supported the bedpost, another scene appeared.

It was a cabinet, and it was in a cluttered corner with a portrait of a man next to it.

Pomona remembered him. He seemed to be one of Violet and the Fat Lady's drinking buddies, but because he was too fond of spreading rumors, he was moved from the Grand Gallery to another place by a girl.

"By the way, brandy." She whispered, and took out a bottle of wine from the cabinet. It was brought back from abroad by Albus. The plum flavor was gone, and the honey flavor was shared with her.

She took a sip of the wine, felt a little better, and then silently recited the proverb.

Be humble, for you are made of dust.

Be noble, for you are born of the stars.

After finishing the wine in the glass, Pomona put down the glass, intending to send Hagrid the rest of the brandy, which was his favorite.

In fact, she shouldn't blame the person who told the truth. He just revealed the essence of class oppression, which is reasonable, reasonable and legal.

Otherwise, why did the feudal monarchs engage in the divine grant of monarchy?

It is precisely because the power of the monarch comes from the gods, let him perform his obligations on behalf of the gods, and the people pay taxes according to what he said.

If theocracy is overthrown, there will be no monarch.

From roughly the 16th century to the 18th century, English and French publishing laws were very similar in that the king was responsible for the religious beliefs of his subjects.

Now that the god is gone, and the king is gone, there is Rohart's adventure story, which is kind of autobiographical, describing how he defeated the werewolf.

Some people like to imitate people with better fate than themselves too much, the destruction of such people can be said to be self-defeating.

Cecil actually planned to imitate Rohart's method, using the transformation spell to temporarily restore the werewolf to human form, and then persuade him not to be a wolf.

He was part of the werewolf capture team. Unlike Rohart, who encountered a werewolf once in his life, he had to deal with it every month. Fortunately, he also knew that it was impossible to cast a spell on a werewolf's throat that Rohart said.

After dawdling for about half an hour, Pomona got dressed and went out.

If it wasn't for Lily's reflection of the Avada Kedavra Curse like a mirror, which wiped out the mysterious man, how could there be a good time now?That kind of flower cannot be called Widowmaker.

She did remember a French perfume called the Road to Hades, which exudes a charming smell, just like the execution chamber of macusa, which reveals the happiest memory of the person being executed, and makes people gradually die.

Hope this name is not registered, because she found herself quite fond of it.

(End of this chapter)