Chapter 339: Pig head bar

The Christmas holiday began, and this rare leisure time did not relieve a few people.
Harry was in a mood of self-blame.
That is powerlessness to reality, extending to annoyance at oneself incompetence.
As the days approached, they had no choice.
write a letter?
Dumbledore may not be able to receive it.
And as Moody said, there is a danger of being intercepted.
Hermione was not so good at comforting.
She now also chooses to believe Harry's statement. Until now, whether it is rational or emotional, she thinks that Harry is telling the truth.
But they could not convince Professor McGonagall.
That was ridiculous, and it would be even worse if Snape finally knew about it.
Christmas is here.
The village of Hogsmeade was very lively at Christmas. Between the white snow and the snow, a group of men in brown leather jackets formed a circle, singing the solemn prayers of prayer.
It's melodious and sweeping.
On a small road, a wizard wearing a pointed high hat rode a black cow and walked slowly in the snow, with footprints deep and shallow, deep and shallow, left in the snow, and then quickly The snow flakes covering up flatly.
Many students staying in school choose to spend their time here boring.
The students prefer to go to the three broom bars, where the drinks and drinks are more suitable for the identity of students, and there are also beautiful and charming proprietresses.
As for the pig's head bar, few people go, but some students vaguely feel that the boss there is somewhat similar to Dumbledore.
He had the same blue eyes as Dumbledore, as if he had the power to see through Dumbledore.
The pig's head bar is completely different from the three broom bars, where the large bar always makes people feel bright, clean and warm.
The pig's head bar only has a small, dark, and very dirty room, which exudes a strong smell of sheepskin. Thick dirt accumulates on the bay windows, the light hardly penetrates, and some candle heads are lit on the rough wooden table. At first glance, I only thought that the ground was compacted mud, but when I stepped on it, I discovered that the stone-paved ground had accumulated dirt for centuries.
The environment here is too simple and mixed.
If it were not for avoiding sight, they would definitely not come here.
There are few Hogwarts students here, suitable for them to discuss things that are not convenient to talk about in school.
There was a man at the foot of the bar counter, his entire head wrapped in a dirty gray bandage, but he was still able to pour a smoky, flame-burning thing from a bandage gap in his mouth, cup after cup.
There were two hooded figures sitting at a table by the window, if they were not talking in a very heavy Yorkshire accent.
Sitting in a dark corner by the fireplace was a witch, with thick black scarves hanging down to her feet. They can only see the tip of her nose because it lifts the mask slightly.
They could feel a kind of dark wizard's temperament that was out of place with the crowd.
Of course, it is also limited to temperament, which creates a certain illusion of deterring others.
Really duel, maybe just embroidered pillows.
After all, Hogwarts is the safest place in the whole of Britain, and dark wizards are unlikely to appear nearby.
When Dumbledore was still in Hogwarts, he occasionally came to this dirty bar. His younger brother, Aberforth, was often reluctant to sell him wine. Aberforth wants to charge him a few gold gallons, but Dumbledore doesn’t care and lets him make the price.
Maybe it is guilt and atonement.
But actually, wouldn’t Aberforth feel guilty? Doesn't he have a little responsibility, does he not realize his problems.
He was equally afraid that he could get the truth, and he could not continue to hate and hate his brother with peace of mind.
But in the bottom of his heart, he suffered no more than Dumbledore.
Without knowing the truth for a day, he is still the executioner of that third.
What if you know it? Their poor sister also left them forever.
The separation between life and death is the most helpless thing in this world.
Entering the bar, the three found a seat by the window and sat down.
"Something to drink? I'll treat you today."
Ron volunteered to stand up from his seat.
"Three cups of butter beer, right?" Ron asked. After receiving the reply, he went to order.
He leaned sideways and slowly squeezed from the crowded wooden table to the bar.
There was an old man in a burlap shirt, and Ron guessed it was the owner of the bar.
The owner of the bar has gray hair like wire, long beard, and a pair of glasses, but the lenses are always dirty.
The blue eyes hidden behind the lens are bright and sharp.
It was too similar to Dumbledore, but he didn't trim it, he didn't pay much attention, he still couldn't see it.
He was just pretending to wipe a polished plate while observing the three students.
Now he put the plate down and looked at the boy who came to the counter unabashedly.
"Three cups of butter beer." Ron said as he was about to pay from the purse and hand it to the shopkeeper.
His hands froze.
"Three cups require twelve silver coins, and you don't have enough money." The shopkeeper glanced at the silver coin in Ron's hand, shook his head, and turned to do something else.
"The butter beers in other bars are two silver sike glasses!" Ron said with a red face, exasperated.
Patted the six silver coins in his hand on the table.
"Then you go to the bar you like, don't come to me, I didn't ask you to come, drink as much as you like, and leave if you don't," the owner said gruffly, looking impatient. .
"You are a robbery."
"I'm happy." The owner said meaninglessly.
"Okay, Ron, don't quarrel." Hermione looked at Ron and seemed to be in conflict with the shopkeeper.
Rushed over immediately.
"Sorry." She handed the remaining six silver coins on the table.
"We have no time to waste, we are here to do the right thing." She lowered her voice and said to Ron.
"Let's go," Hermione said before returning to the seat with Ron.
It took a while for the waiter to serve their drinks.
It's different from the butter beer in the three broom bars where Huang Chengcheng is bubbling and looks appetizing.
There is a layer of foam on the surface that is gray, and the fragrance is also lacking.
Ron took a sip and then coughed a few times.
He wiped his mouth with his sleeve. "It's terrible."
"Okay, stop talking, we are not here to drink today."
"We have been noticed by Professor McGonagall."
"Harry, it might not be a wise decision to go to her the first time..."
...
"So what should we do? Are we just looking at it like this?" Ron said indignantly.
"Now Professor McGonagall doesn't believe us~EbookFREE.me~ he went on.
"I'm going to the Ministry of Magic that day." Harry clenched his fists.
"That's too dangerous!" Hermione wanted to scream, but restrained herself again and whispered.
She covered her chest and took a few deep breaths.
"That Professor Dumbledore's situation will only be more dangerous!" Harry said fiercely.
"You also said that Grindelwald is a black wizard who is not inferior to Voldemort." Harry gasped.
...
Christmas should have been a day of pleasure.
But they were not happy, and worried about the future, discussing the countermeasures afterwards.
Especially Harry, the dream that appeared in his head was so disturbing that he couldn't even relax for a moment. 10