Harry Potter’s Book of Sin

"Maca."

Willie, sitting in the middle of the bed, kept looking at Maca.

Through the flowing red mist, she could see that Maca's expression seemed a bit stiff, and her right hand holding the staff gradually turned white as she gradually tightened her grip.

It seemed that Maca was standing with nothing, standing still.

"... Maca?"

Willie felt that she should not know what kind of emotion should be flowing at this moment. Because those emotions that should belong to her have already been sealed along with the curse in the bloodline.

However, even though the seal was not untied, why did she ... she felt a heartfelt throbbing in her heart constantly expanding?

"Maca? Are you all right?"

When Willie spoke for the third time, she saw that the other party had finally responded. Although there was no verbal response, the slightly frozen eyes of the other person suddenly came back alive and slowly moved to her side.

After that, about five or six seconds later, Maca took a sharp breath.

"Should the emotions come back? Why ... even if there are feelings, does it still have such an intermittent tone? I remember when you told me the story last time, didn't you become fluent!"

His voice was still a little hoarse, and his breathing didn't seem to be so smooth. But when he said these words, his tone was relaxed, and he even mixed some jokes in it.

However, Maca's hand holding the staff did not relax, and the joints were still pale.

"Rest assured, I'm fine ..." He smiled and said, "Sit there and wait! Although it will take a long time, but you can adapt to the feeling of getting back your emotions first. First ... um, It ’s better to laugh first! ”

Having said that, Maca took a deep breath again, and then took out an empty potion bottle without a stopper from her waist and slowly placed it on the floor in front of her.

In order to eliminate unnecessary interference, he did not use the floating spell, but bent and bent his knees to put it down.

But I don't know if the invisible pressure just now continued to oppress him, so that he seemed to be tied with a very heavy sandbag all over his body, and every movement seemed extremely slow.

But even so, his expression was still so calm, even with a trace of residual smile on his face.

It is worth mentioning that when he did these actions, the red air flow in the room did not appear to be stagnant, and it was still flowing regularly.

Velly on the bed, stroking her chest suddenly when she heard Maca's words.

is it? Yeah ... the mood did appear again. The twitch just now didn't seem to be an illusion.

Realizing this, she unconsciously stretched the corners of her mouth according to Maca's suggestion, and once again showed the smile that she had not practiced many times in front of Maca.

"Before ... I didn't like it and practiced smiling."

"why?"

While listening to Willie's words, Maca stood on her knees and stood upright again, and then asked a question.

Willie maintains the radian of the corner of her mouth and quietly says:

"Space cave, a little strange."

"Hmm ... it's like laughing at others?"

Maca nodded and continued to respond, lifting her staff slightly.

"Maybe ... heh, I don't know."

Compared to Maca's sluggish movements, Willie's easy and smooth shaking of her head looked more and more obvious. Although they are in the same room, they seem to be in two worlds.

"Since you don't know, let's think about it now!"

The next moment Maca casually gave a suggestion, the staff he had just raised suddenly trembled ... No, it was not the staff that was trembling, but his hand!

At that moment, there seemed to be another force in this room, which suddenly inspired the magic that pervaded it. Unconsciously, something seemed to be captured silently.

It was a small particle in the rushing red mist-in the constantly flowing mist, it was like an inconspicuous water drop in the raging river, so that it was still difficult to find after leaving the mist.

But Maca found it accurately.

Gently dragging the staff back, a stream of magic wrapped around that tiny red dot, was slowly dragged under the will of Maca above the mouth of the potion bottle, and then fell silently In the bottle.

"This is a very good start," Maca said again after doing this. "It proved to us that the long wait so far is really very meaningful."

Willie apparently didn't understand what Maca was talking about, and she didn't even see the little red dot that represented "significance," but that didn't stop her from showing a clearer smile to Maca.

However, if this is the "first step" today, there are still thousands of steps waiting for Maca!

"Let's get started!"

Macaph stretched out his staff again, his face calmly.

...

The time of two or three hours is undoubtedly long on Maca's side. But for those who are still sleeping in San Mungo, they don't even feel the passing of time.

When Victor Jr. woke up staggeringly from his sleep, he found that the coffer that was being used as a temporary ward was already a little noisy.

"Well, is this ... it's morning?"

There are no windows in the storeroom. If you stay here for a long time, it will be easy to make the difference between day and night.

Victor and his son haven't been out for a few days ...

Or, they can't go out at all.

In fact, all the people living in this storeroom were restricted from moving for various reasons.

Some of them have been lying down for the past few days, and even eating requires the intern therapist or the young volunteers to feed them. Most of them are only slightly injured, but they are basically locked up. Out of prison ...

Oh no, it seems a bit too much to say this ... As far as the current treatment is concerned, it can only be said to be under house arrest.

Just like Victor Jr. and his drunk dad.

"No mention of house arrest or house arrest, at least there is a benefit to living here ..." Little Victor raised his hand and squeezed his neck, muttering secretly on his back, "That's 'Drunk Ghost' out of wine. , Finally not drunk for the time being. "

"Wake up? Then come and eat!"

Suddenly hearing the familiar voice, Victor Jr. stood up on the mattress, rubbing his sleepy eyes by the way.

I do n’t know if it ’s a genetic relationship. Although the father and son ca n’t go out like other people who live here, they all show a little disregard.

Maybe it was because I had confirmed the safety of my family before I came here!

"Hey, here it is."

Looking at the dad who was sitting on the wooden box at the door and chewing bread, Victor Jr. finally got up from the mattress and pulled his shoes around the others' floor.

"Sit down! Eat toast with strawberry jam today, and there are dried fruit oatmeal, go and serve it by yourself!" Old Victor said, and couldn't help whispering, "It's strange to say that the wizards are so busy It ’s too bad, the hospital is full of people. But every day breakfast can be turned over ... but it tastes really good! "

"Everyone says it's a" witcher. "It won't work if you use magic!"

Little Victor said as he walked to the wooden box with a pot of oatmeal, but behind him, his father shook his head.

"I don't know if magic can make breakfast, but magic is certainly not omnipotent ... Hey, maybe magic will also observe the principle of conservation of quality!"

If Maca were here, he would applaud the old Victor's words-judging by the laws that Maca observed in the study of magic, this might be a correct guess!

Unfortunately, he is not present.

"What kind of quality is good, good quality ... I said, dad, in that matter, do you really want to explain it to me?"

In these days ~ www.wuxiaspot.com ~ no matter how many times Victor asked, the old man hadn't told him about half a word that he could fly on a broom.

Although he thinks it is likely to be related to a mother he has never met, as long as the old man doesn't say it, guessing will never become a fact.

"Did I just say I don't know?" Old Victor waved his hands carelessly, and then stuffed a large mouthful of toast dipped in strawberry jam into his mouth, vaguely authentic, "Do you have to ask again? Stop asking! "

"Ugh--"

As a filial son, Victor Jr really couldn't take this unreliable dad.

"Forget it! Let us continue to live here!" He moaned weakly. "Then wait for Mr. McLean to be impatient and let him 'pull' directly from your stubborn mind." Come out! "

"Huh, he wants to pull, I can't stop it." Old Victor rolled his eyes. "Unfortunately, he can only pull a thin brain from my head!"

When Victor Little heard it, he subconsciously glanced at the bowl of cereal he had just filled—a bowl of white flowers, let alone it really looks like ...

"Don't say it, let people not have breakfast!"

He was talking, and suddenly he caught a glimpse of a seriously injured patient lying not far away, and a lot of blood was seeping out of the gauze that was wrapped around his entire head.

Alright! This time there is no more appetite ... wait, what's that?

Little Victor stretched his neck and looked at the patient's robe, and at this angle he could see, there seemed to be a small wooden stick on the inside of the robe.

"Oh! Is that ..."

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