All Heavens: Transfer Students at Hogwarts

Chapter 175: The Magic Wine House Through Death

The last time, the owner of the melody found by the Book of Mora was a polite old gentleman. He was not hunted, but he was just hungry for five days and was not far from death.

The old gentleman's name was Henry Hunton. He was wearing several pieces of old clothes that had been rummaged out of the trash can. He looked very bloated. After entering the room, he took off three pieces of clothing, revealing that his figure was as thin as a skeleton, and the skin on his neck was frozen and blue. He apologized for every wet footprint he left on the floor and said he would clean it up before leaving.

Linde invited him to dinner.

The homeless old man sat at the table, bowed his head and prayed, "Thank you to the Lord for the food, and thank you to the generous good people for accepting me. May the light of the Lord always shine on us, Amen."

After praying, he began to eat. He was very hungry, but he ate slowly and did not gorge himself. Dignity is more important to him than life.

Mr. Hunton's appetite was unbelievable for an eighty-year-old man. After spending an hour finishing the meal, the empty dishes in his hands were piled high.

"You are the last customer." Linde said, "The business of the wine house has ended, but we can still provide you with three glasses of wine. Have you figured out what you want to drink?"

Mr. Hunton ate a lot, his dry and slack cheeks became rosy, his straight back slightly collapsed, his cloudy eyeballs showed a dull light, and now he was like a skin bag filled with water, paralyzed The chair is up.

"Drinking your wine will make your wish come true, right?"

"It's not always possible," Linde said. "There were once customers who made very bizarre requests, wanting to fit Mount Everest into the Great Rift Valley."

Mr. Hunton laughed.

"I have no aspirations. I am old and have lived too long. You may not believe it. Last year I was a billionaire. But my precious collections have become Gilderoy Lockhart. !" he burst into laughter. "Then the stocks evaporated overnight, like a stuffy fart. Only the debt didn't go away. The banks took everything from me, and God will send them to hell."

"I'm sorry to make you experience the ups and downs of life," Linde comforted him, "but don't worry, big music will not replace real history."

"Don't feel sorry for me, kind young man. I only have one request, can you let me stay here overnight?" Hendon, who was still heroic just now, was a little embarrassed at the moment, "I don't have the energy to fight those poisonous bugs for the abandoned apartment upstairs."

Lind looked around the wine house. He originally planned to let the place be covered with thick dust and grow old in his memory just like this Christmas holiday. However, if someone can continue to operate it, he and his friends will have one more place to serve in the future. An old place of memories.

"You can own this tavern." Linde pushed the key over, "The food in the cellar will be replenished automatically, and four rooms on the second floor are closed, so there is no need to clean them."

Henry Hunton was a little surprised, "I'm just an aging Muggle. I don't understand magic, how can I run the magical Three Cups Tavern?"

Linde smiled, "There's nothing amazing about magic. What's amazing is people's belief. I believe you can be an excellent shopkeeper."

Hunton did not despise this coaxing statement. The old man had experienced too much and now he believed neither anything nor anything.

"Tell me about this tavern. What's so unusual about it?"

Linde told him, "The wine shop has its own ideas. It will travel all over the world to find people in distress. The owner's duty is to provide food and accommodation if necessary. Of course, there are three dreams for customers, You can choose to make the dream come true, or just stay in the fantasy."

"Can I help them too?" Hunton's eyes lit up.

"...Of course." Linde smiled, "In a special way."

Sweat broke out on Hunton's cheeks, and his whole body was filled with vitality. "That's great."

Linde and the four of them stayed in the wine house for the last night. Hunton had been busy in the hall, gently removing the white cloth from the table, checking the inventory in the cellar, filling up the wine cabinet, and handwriting several menus. Prepare ingredients for tomorrow in the kitchen.

This 80-year-old man was panting, his sweat revealed a sheen of oil, his cheeks were getting stretched, his eyes were getting brighter, and his face was drier than chalk soil.

By the time it was almost early in the morning, Henry Hunton had finally made all preparations for business. His work was comprehensive, and he must have opened a tavern in his youth. Not only did he have food and wine, he also had many stories. From the end of World War I to the 1990s, Henry experienced war, separation, wandering, sudden wealth, marriage, widowhood... the scenery of the world and the joys and sorrows of the world. Seen it all.

He believed that he would be able to manage the three cups of wine well. This extraordinary career made his heart young again, beating so fiercely that it seemed to fly away from his chest.

In the end, the new owner, an old man, sat at the bar and poured himself a small glass of gin, drank it all in one gulp, went upstairs carefully, picked an empty room, and lay down on the bed after a simple wash, praying to God Did a prayer.

"Lord, thank you for giving me life, thank you for enabling me to do meaningful careers, and I will save suffering until death." Henry Hunton closed his eyes with good expectations.

Its daybreak.

Linde opened the door gently and walked to the bed. Malika and the others had also gotten up, washed themselves, and packed their luggage. While calling his name, they gathered around.

"Lind, here you are... ah, Mr. Hunton?"

"Dead. He left at 3:45 in the morning." Linde nodded.

"it's a pity."

"Is everything packed?" Linde brushed lightly on the cheek of the corpse, Henry Hunton's vicissitudes and decayed face became moist again, as if he was just sleeping.

"It's packed." The girls nodded.

"Let's go."

A group of four people dressed neatly, led their respective suitcases, walked out of the mottled green paint door of the wine house, and looked back at this warm house that had been with them for two weeks.

A ball of orange flames floated from Linde's palm and landed on the door. The fire ignited everything, including the tables and chairs, the drinks, and the corpses of the deceased.

The fire was like a subtle bud, covering only three glasses of wine and not spreading outwards. A slight black smoke rose in the early morning of London and dissipated under the falling snow clouds. Many pedestrians noticed the fire, called the police and gathered here.

Before everyone gathered, Linde opened two portals leading to the junction, one leading to the Weeping Peninsula and the other leading to the Holy Snowfield.

We all know it’s time to say goodbye.

Melina stepped forward and hugged Lind. Her flesh and blood was soft, and her hair had the fragrance of gardenia.

"time to go."

She didn't let go.

"Okay, okay." Linde gently touched her forehead, "When you become an excellent spell caster, you can join the library tower. Then we will see you again."

Melina nodded, "See you soon." She turned and walked through the portal.

Millicent seemed to hesitate, but she was still the valiant female swordsman, "Linde, if you need me, please call me at any time. I will become stronger and protect everything about you."

"Are you still looking for Marlenia?"

"Yes. I can feel an unusual connection with her. I want to talk to her. Maybe she knows about my past."

"If you can't beat her, remember to call me."

Millicent's thin and pale cheeks flushed suddenly, she nodded vigorously, and then dodged into the portal.

The portal was closed, and many people were already pouring onto the street.

Malika stretched out her hand towards Lind, her sea-blue eyes full of smile, "Come home with me."

"You are so old, you still need to hold hands." Linde ignored her and walked forward for a while. When he turned around, Malika still stood there, just pointing her hand towards him.

Linde walked back silently, "This is not an example." He said.

"Okay."

The two young men walked away from this desolate neighborhood step by step against the flow of people and traffic fighting the fire.

On the same day, many mainstream media around the world jointly reported a fire in London.

It is said that only one pub was damaged at the scene, and the fire did not spread to the shops less than a foot away. From the ruins of the fire, it can be vaguely identified that this is the famous Three Cups Traveling Wine House. The body of an elderly man was found on the second floor of the ruins, and no one claimed it.

Three Cups of Wine House was destroyed in an inconspicuous corner of London. A legend ends here.

But the matter did not end there. About seven days later, new witnesses began to identify this magical traveling tavern and told their own stories with the tavern.

"The Magic Tavern still exists!"