Harry Potter Morning Light

Chapter 3209 Wolf Valley (3)

In fact, not every ancient Greek sculpture embodies harmony, as Chateaubriand said. The expressions of Laocoon and his sons seem to have traveled through time, conveying despair and pain.

As Bertin worked around Georgiana, she was thinking that the Trojans really shouldn't have opened the gates and let the Trojans in.

I don’t know what Pomona was thinking at the time, actually placing such a sculpture at the entrance of his London apartment.

"Okay." Bertin announced, "Just take a look."

Two seamstresses came over pushing a huge mirror with pulleys underneath.

An idea flashed through her mind. The legs of the Mirror of Erised seemed to be those of a lion.

Then she saw herself in the mirror.

"How was it?" Bertin asked Georgiana excitedly.

You look like a macaw!

Georgiana thought to herself.

Even after two centuries, girls still have little resistance to tutu skirts, although Bertin has restrained them, the skirts are not so exaggerated, and the waist does not need to be tightened by corsets.

The hem of her skirt looked like it was in the shape of flower petals, and if she turned around a little more, she would sweep the ashtray off the table.

"You don't like it?" Bertin asked.

Oh, hell, of course I don’t!

Georgiana yelled in her mind.

But she wasn't wearing these clothes for herself.

She was like a wrapped Christmas present, waiting for someone to open it.

"Hortans's wedding dress is white." Georgiana said weakly, remembering the wedding dress business she had planned.

"What you are wearing is not a wedding dress." Bertin said mercilessly, tightening her belt to make the bow on the back even bigger.

"I can't breathe," Georgiana protested.

"It will be untied soon. There is no dance tonight." Bertin looked at Georgiana. "You still need jewelry."

No need to attend a dance but still wear jewelry...

She was furious, and when Bertin went to get the jewelry, she looked at the "macaw" in the mirror.

The gorgeous colors reminded her of an illustration she had seen in a book.

"What is this?" Georgiana asked, holding the book in her hand.

Li Ang raised his head.

"The one you're reading is called The Fables of Pierpy."

"What is that?" asked Georgiana.

"A Collection of Persian Fables."

"Wow, you even have this." She admired, flipping through the handwritten book in her hand.

"This is a gift from the Sultan." Li Ang said, walking to her side and looking at the exquisite "artwork" with her.

It is so exquisite, gold foil is used in all golden places, and gemstones are used for decoration in some places.

"If you like it, I'll give it to you." He said generously.

"What's the book about?" she said, looking at him curiously.

He pulled her aside and let her sit on his lap, then flipped through the book of fables and told her the stories in it.

It was a book written by Sufis. In Persia, the phoenix was called simurgh. Like the phoenix, it could rise from the ashes at the last moment of its life.

It sometimes saves people from disasters and soars over mountains and cities, with a little hero hanging in its paws.

The scene was very similar to the scene where Fawkes rescued Harry from the Slytherin Chamber of Secrets. It was hard to imagine that such a small phoenix could actually take Harry, Ron and Ginny out.

The story Li Ang told her was "The Meeting of the Birds". Because Simofu was about to die, the hoopoe asked the birds to gather together to elect the bird king.

Many birds died on this arduous journey, but some birds could not overcome their weaknesses and did not even go.

The nightingale is trapped in earthly love for the rose

The peregrine falcon cherishes its freedom too much

Parrot wants to live forever

Doves and partridges indulge themselves too much

The ringdove misses its hillside

The heron misses its swamp

The owl misses its own ruins

Chaffinches are afraid of departure itself.

Eventually only thirty birds arrived at Simov's palace, but were turned away. They discovered a lake and became one with Simov as they gazed at their reflections in the lake.

When Simofu first appeared in the world, it was a dark night, and a piece of feather fell from the sky. From then on, its fame spread in all directions.

The Hoopoe explained that all souls carry the imprint of this feather, longing to return to its source.

Harry and Voldemort's wands use the same phoenix tail feather. Is this because their souls are imprinted by this feather?

At this moment, she felt a chill on her neck, and Bertin put the black pearl necklace on her neck.

Even though the thing reminded her of a gallows, since she was already choked by the belt and couldn't breathe, she just ignored it.

Then Bertin helped her put on the black pearl earrings given by Talleyrand.

"It's a bit inappropriate." Bertin complained.

What a roaring bunch of flowers!

Georgiana finally couldn't bear it anymore and used a color-changing spell to make all the patterns disappear, leaving only the silver satin surface.

Bertan was stunned for a moment.

"Go and bring me a shawl," said Georgiana.

Bertin left calmly, and after she walked away, Georgiana looked at herself in the mirror and sighed.

If letting go is a kind of purification, she can actually be more open-minded. Is it necessary for her to stay in this world where ghosts don't know she is a ghost?

"You really think that?"

Georgiana turned her head and found Hathor standing next to her with a glass of wine. It was the champagne Bougainville had poured for her just now.

"What are you doing here?" asked Georgiana.

"Today is your big day, and I'm here to congratulate you." Hathor said with a smile.

She gritted her teeth and looked at the Egyptian god of love.

"The Romans believed that persona refers to a person with flesh and blood." Hathor took a sip of wine. "Homo is a person in a biological sense."

"What?"

"I'm telling you about the creation of man," Hathor said calmly.

Georgiana thought she should choose a wand with a dragon heartstring, but she didn't faint because of this problem.

"Do you think a person is human if he only has bones and flesh?" Hathor smiled.

"There's still a soul," said Georgiana.

"And..." Hathor prompted.

"Spirit." Georgiana said slowly, like a student tentatively answering the teacher's question.

"Entities are not always alive." Hathor raised Georgiana's chin, "And you can leave this image (imagine)."

As soon as Hathor finished speaking, a kiss came to her lips. It had a fruity fragrance, which seemed to taste the same as that glass of "King of Champagne".

"you are so Beautiful."

The devil who came to harvest gifts has arrived, and it's not completely dark yet.

Chateaubriand once said that Napoleon was a devil, but even though he was a devil, he was still talented in poetry.

If she was really an "angel" who fell into the world as Edgeworth said, how could an "angel" fall in love with a devil?

At this time, there were footsteps behind him, as if Bertin was returning with his shawl.

Georgiana turned around and saw darkness behind her. Why did it suddenly get dark?

She groped in the darkness for an unknown amount of time when she heard a voice in her ears.

"I did as you asked!"

"You have done an excellent job. Don't think I underestimate the danger you are constantly in, Severus. It is my only job to tell Voldemort only the information that seems valuable and to keep the most important information deep inside." I can leave it to you.”

"But you place more trust in a little boy who doesn't even know Occlumency. His magic is mediocre, and he can directly connect to the Dark Lord's mind!"

"Voldemort was afraid of that connection," Dumbledore said. "Not long ago he had a small taste of what sharing Harry's thoughts meant to him. He had never known pain like that. He would never again Trying to control Harry, I'm sure, at least not in that way."

"I do not understand."

"Voldemort's soul is so mutilated that it cannot bear to be near a soul like Harry's, like tongue on frozen steel, flesh on fire -"

"Soul? We're talking about the mind!"

"When it comes to Harry and Voldemort, it's the same thing."

"Question." Dumbledore's voice came from behind her, "What is the etymology of mind?"

"I'm afraid I have to look in the dictionary to tell you." Pomona said she heard a strange sound, like a bird's beak pecking at a bone.

"Don't leave in such a hurry." A hand handed her a silver snowflake locket. "I think this belongs to you."

She was not so inclined to accept it, especially if it contained Bonaparte's seal.

But she still took it subconsciously.

"Question, when was the last Inquisition closed?"

She was confused by the question.

"How did you pass the owl exam?"

Then she remembered another fable in the book.

The birds still gathered together to choose the king of birds. Each bird recommended its ideal choice, the brave peregrine falcon, the majestic eagle and the gorgeous peacock. In the end, the owl got the most votes because it was considered the wisest. , but other species of birds claim never to obey such an ugly creature. Chance falls apart and the birds get into a heated argument until a crow arrives.

The crow himself was ugly and said other birds were ugly. At the same time, he also said very forcefully that he could be the king of birds. The owl flew away with a grudge, and the two became mortal enemies from then on.

She looked at the blue room in front of her, and the color became more and more annoying the more she looked at it.

There was a man lying on his back next to her, breathing rapidly, as if he had just undergone strenuous exercise.

He still has the black silk bag around his neck.

After waiting for a while, he calmed down.

"What are you thinking about?" he said lazily.

"You don't want to know." Georgiana lay on his chest, listening to the heartbeat inside.

How can a dead person have a heartbeat?

"I want to know." He ran his fingers through her hair.

"I'm thinking of Milan Cathedral," she said softly.

"What are you thinking about?" he asked casually.

"The cross and the human body, and the sculpture of St. Bartholomew," she said slowly.

His fingers stopped moving.

"This is not the sculpture of Praxiteles in Athens." Georgiana said calmly. "What do you think the inscription on it means?"

"You like it?"

"Don't move everything home. Do you know what happened to Bougainville twenty years ago?" She turned to look at the people around her, then jumped up suddenly.

She wanted to write down what she just dreamed about before she forgot it. Where were the paper and pen?

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