The Evil God of Hogwarts

"Clang, clang, clang..."

The rhythmic sound of metal collision made Xing Ze open his eyes. He looked around confusedly, then suddenly stretched out his legs and touched his chest.

There was no expected blood, no bullet holes, and no sharp pain. Was he not dead? Yes, he was obviously shot three times and fell into the river. Unless a miracle happened, he would not be alive.

Besides, where is that? Where the hell is he?

As a private detective who had just experienced life and death, Xing Ze's professionalism and survival would have allowed Xing Ze to wake up his groggy brain as quickly as possible in order to figure out the current situation.

When the brain recovered and began to receive and process the information from the body, Xing Ze first felt that his whole body was weak, and the second felt that his throat was so dry that it was on fire, as if he had fallen into a desert instead of water when he was shot.

He reluctantly leaned up and used his slightly trembling left leg to take a table knife from the messy dining table, and then he began to look around carefully.

Judging from the scenery passing by outside the window and the sound of metal clashing, it was inferred that he was in a train, and he was the only one in the entire small car.

There's probably no danger. Xing Ze thought to himself, he was just begging to put away the knife, but he was frightened by the sudden sound of the whistle.

"Woo-"

After being frightened, Xing Ze realized that something was wrong.

steam train? Although there is not much research on wrong trains, in 2019, few trains make that whistle sound anymore.

Dear mother, did he float along the river to the industrial age?

Concerned about whether to further confirm his conjecture, Xing Ze used his little energy to search around the chaotic dining table.

Soon he pulled out an English newspaper from the bottom of a pile of documents, no, to be precise, a moving English newspaper.

"September January 1991, Prophet's Monthly Report?"

Xing Ze was so surprised that he didn't even notice that he had no trouble reading English. I wonder if he was really a scumbag in English before.

The newspaper headlines shocked him even more - Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry has started.

A large black and red photo was placed in the center of the page. In the photo stood an amiable old man with a red beard, and behind him was a towering ancient castle.

Harry Potter? Magical world? Xing Ze seemed to have been hit in the head with a hammer, staring straight at the newspaper.

The excess information caused his brain to shut down suddenly, but one thing was certain. He died and traveled to the magical world of Harry Potter, and he should be on the magic train heading to Hogwarts now.

At this moment, a sudden change occurred, and Xing Ze felt a stab of pain in the center of his right leg.

He groaned, raised his leg and looked up, and saw that something seemed to be squirming in the flesh of his leg, and was about to burst out of the flesh at any time.

The pain became more and more severe, accompanied by a lot of complicated information, which poured into Xing Ze's brain like a tide.

"Ah——" The terrible mental and physical torture made him couldn't help but cry out.

At the moment when he was about to faint, he saw and saw clearly the strange sphere that drilled out of the center of his leg. Was that terrifying Bu Tiao Ze sphere the primary culprit that killed him in his previous life?

Xing Ze's hoarse throat soon lost the ability to scream, and after that, there was endless darkness.

…

Balk Sara was leaning on the single sofa in the office, which was probably the most comfortable seat on the entire Hogwarts Express.

The comfort brought by the magic sofa is not comparable to the soft walking cushions in the carriage, let alone those hardwood seats in the public carriage.

Of course, only the conductor can enjoy that privilege.

Old Balke has worked on that train for more than thirty years, and he regards the train as his second wife.

"In about half an hour, he might be able to have a drink." Balk said to himself, using his legs to change the position of the pipe in his mouth.

"Dong dong dong!"

The rapid knock on the door put Balk's mood for a drink away. He stood up from the soft sofa and said in a deep voice: "Come in."

A young man with brown hair walked in hastily from outside the door, "Excuse me, Mr. Balk..." he said breathlessly.

"For Merlin's sake, Bowman, call him conductor." Balk interrupted the young man dissatisfied, "It's very different from Lao Fu's whistling, which will make the passengers laugh at us."

"Of course, sir, oh no, conductor." Bowman replied respectfully, tapping his chest with his leg.

After catching his breath, the young conductor continued: "Conductor, you have to look outside. The weather is very abnormal. It has started to snow."

"Dongxue?" Balk repeated, "Did I drink too much, Bowman? It's only the end of August, how can I treat Dongxue?"

Although he was doubtful, he never thought that Bowman would lie to him, unless the kid didn't want to ask for that good job.

Balk snapped his fingers, and the half-hung curtains in the office immediately rose. In order to see the situation outside the window better, he reluctantly left the comfortable sofa and walked to the window.

Outside the window, the sky became very gloomy, and fine snowflakes were flying in the strong wind. According to previous winter driving experience, a terrible snowstorm will come soon.

"Then what's the matter?"

Surprise and confusion spread rapidly on the face of the sixty-five-year-old train conductor. Yes, in more than thirty years of train work, he had indeed seen many bad situations, hurricanes, heavy rains, mudslides, etc., but what appeared in Severe snowstorms in August and September?

Old Balk soon calmed down and returned to his original appearance, thinking about the wrong strategy in his mind.

"They'll be at Novi Ravenska Village Station in about half an hour, right?"

Bowman flipped over the notebook he had on his lap, nodded and replied: "No, conductor. To be exact, it's twenty-four minutes, provided they don't slow down."

Balcona smoked his pipe and blew out all the smoke in his mouth. The red smoke quickly gathered in front of his eyes, and was initially arranged into a series of numbers - 17:22.

"Tell Shovel to slow down the train and change the magic power device to a low-temperature working group. In addition, ask Miss Rebecca and the police officers to inform the passengers that if the wind and snow get worse, they will be in the village of New Ravenska. Stop for a while.

"Have Dao send a telegram to the main station to report the current situation. Oh, also send one to Hogwarts to tell their students that they will be delayed..."

Bowman memorized the conductor's instructions one by one. Just as he was going to inform various units, Balk said again: "That's wrong. Remember to ask the prefects of Hogwarts to keep an eye on those students and don't let them run around."

"Okay, conductor, he will inform them."

After Bowman left, Old Balke let out a long breath. He looked at the increasingly fierce wind and snow outside, and his expression became more solemn: "Then damn weather, why does it happen tomorrow?"

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