Bowens, who was as thin as a match, strode forward. His brown leather shoes stepped over puddles of water as he left the sight of the group of Little Hangerton Muggle children. He walked down the long stone staircase sandwiched between the two houses and continued walking along the stone path covered in moss.
After walking for a while, he saw two beautiful flower terraces and a bronze statue sitting on a stone holding a cup. The building behind the statue was the Little Hangerton Community Hospital. The entrance was very small, and the wall next to it was graffiti of strange patterns by naughty children. A plump lady in a raincoat was holding a brush and washing the stone wall, trying to destroy the postmodern art works.
"Squeak!"
The wizard rats in the cage began to squeak. The plump lady stopped what she was doing when she heard the noise. She turned around and saw Bowens, who was carrying the cage. She smiled warmly and said, "Oh, Bowens!
Mr. Burns! "She waved the long brush in her hand," I'm taking these things down from the wall! "
"You did very well. Thank you, Mrs. Wells," Burns nodded and lifted the cage to introduce it to Mrs. Wells naturally, "These are the experimental mice I just caught."
Mrs. Wells looked at them. "They're very energetic," she added with a smile, "They look much healthier than the experimental mouse two months ago."
"Indeed," Burns nodded, "Other than Mr. Frank who came just now, there shouldn't be any other patients, right?"
"Yes!
Mr. Burns, Frank came and left very quickly. At that time, I just went to the utility room to get the brush. When I came back to the hall, I saw him walking out of the hospital, "Mrs. Wells touched her face when she said this. She felt a little strange," I put the note you wrote for him to wait in the consultation room for a while on the table. He should have seen the note because it was missing. I couldn't find it anywhere. I think he must have taken it away … "
"He might have something urgent … Oh!
Mr. Burns, please don't blame me for not stopping him! "
Mrs. Wells frowned and lowered her voice. "You know that Frank is a little scary. I don't dare to talk to him. God, there's always a dangerous light in his eyes. I don't even dare to look at him …"
"If you ask me, Mr. Burns, we shouldn't have treated Frank!"
Mrs. Wells's chubby face was full of seriousness, "Frank is not a good person. Look, he murdered the Liddell family who treated him so well. What else can he not do?
You're a great Samaritan, Dr. Burns. Don't be fooled by the cunning Frank, "Mrs. Wells emphasized," Really, I'm a good judge of character! "
The mouse in the cage was screaming, "Madam!
What are you talking about? "Harry shook the cage, thinking all the time about how to get out of it.
Ron rolled his eyes until they were about to reach the sky. "Dr. 'Great Philanthropist' Dr. Burns …" He muttered. At this moment, the crazy desire to ridicule him calmed him down. "Are these middle-aged women really bad at judging people?
........... I don..................
That flamboyant... peacock? "
Hermione Mouse, who possessed all of Lockhart's books, posters, commemorative bookmarks, and various fan badges, coughed. "It's not like Mr. Lockhart has no redeeming qualities... He's different from Burns!"
Hermione Mouse's nimble tail patted Ron Mouse's chubby belly, "Please don't make personal attacks on a great author!
Harry stepped forward to stop his friends from arguing. They shouldn't be arguing, especially when they were still in rat form. Harry covered Ron's mouth with his hand, luckily stopping him from mocking Hermione's rat form. He didn't end up hurting himself and the enemy.
"Oh!"
Mrs. Wells stopped Burns as he walked into the clinic. "Mr. Burns, there's also a beautiful lady. She came here not long after Frank left. It shouldn't be anything important. That lady isn't a patient. She's just looking for the chicken farm in town."
"Ding dong." The glass door opened.
"Lady?" Burns stopped in his tracks, "Is she a tourist?"
"Yes, blonde hair and very white skin. She stood in front of the hospital for a long time and then asked me if the chicken farm was nearby," Mrs. Wells recalled. "I told her that the chicken farm was very far from here. She then asked me if there was a slaughterhouse here. I thought she was joking with me …"
"I asked her why, and she said she smelled blood here." Mrs. Wells shook her head. "That's strange. Our small clinic doesn't have many patients in a month. Most of them come for treatment of minor illnesses such as colds. The last time I saw blood was when I treated a child's injured arm. That was a few days ago. I cleaned the clinic very well. How could there be a strong smell of blood?"
Burns was silent for a moment. He fumbled with the handle of the iron cage, "When did the lady leave?"
"About ten minutes ago," Mrs. Wells pointed to the bronze statue, "she said that our Mr. Luther Hobbs' statue was ugly!
What a rude tourist!
Hmm … Although it's not very nice to say this, that lady is really not very likable. "
"Indeed, she's a nuisance," Burns continued Mrs. Wells's words, "These troublesome tourists …" He turned around and walked towards his consulting room, "Mrs. Wells, I won't be receiving any patients later. You can leave after you're done cleaning. I wish you a pleasant afternoon."
"I wish you a pleasant afternoon too," Mrs. Wells said as she watched Burns close the door. She picked up the brush and continued her work, humming a tune that was no longer popular.
Bowens locked the door of the consultation room from the inside. He stepped on the dark red carpet and walked to the white bookshelf. There was a European-style vase half the height of a man. He waved his wand to move the vase aside, revealing an ordinary-looking wooden floor underneath.
"Close your eyes and hold your breath. I am your most loyal servant. You are the light that cannot tolerate any darkness in your eyes. You are the resurrection of all things. You are the continuation of life. You are the beginning and also the end," Burns closed his eyes and slowly turned his wand. His eerie look made the three little witch mice hold their breaths, "I offer you a sacrifice —"
The incantation Burns was chanting sounded like he was praying to a decent god, but there was always a kind of indescribable strangeness. Hermione rubbed her mouse arm, trying to keep herself calm. At the same time, the scene of going to church with her parents every week appeared in her mind. She subconsciously said, "God bless."
The little Ron Mouse curled himself into a ball. He had been watching the daily news of the muggle world carefully and had begun to imagine what he would face in the future. He trembled a little, "Merlin's beard …" He muttered, "Merlin!
Save me … "
Harry was suddenly at a loss. He was not a Christian, and he was not very close to the Merlin. For a moment, he did not know who to pray to. "Mom and Dad … Uh, Uncle Vernon?" He suddenly stopped, because Harry realized that they could not save him.
The powerful Anna was not here. If it were her, what would she do?
Harry looked at his little mouse hand.
"Faith?
Of course I have faith. "He remembered what Anna sometimes muttered." I believe in myself. In times of danger, I pray to myself. I believe that I can get out of the situation and then start to act. In fact, doing so is indeed the most efficient way to do things. "
"Harry, calm down when you are in danger. Don't be busy praying. See what you can do."
The wooden floor lit up with a red light, and a strange pattern gradually appeared. Harry noticed it. The pattern looked like a small fork. He looked at it carefully and was sure that he had not seen this strange pattern anywhere.
The red light soon disappeared, and a hideous hole appeared on the wooden floor. It was big enough for two adults to pass through side by side. There was a long stone staircase below, and a bloody smell came out along with the damp air. Bowens carried the cage and walked down the stairs.
As he went down the stairs, he could hear the sound of running water and the smell of blood became stronger. The little mice all covered their noses, and Harry the Mouse stared at the surroundings with his eyes wide open.
There was something that looked like scales on the stone wall. Burns kindly explained, "Those are snake skins. They are beautiful, aren't they? An old friend left them as a gift, the best sacrifice …"
"Unfortunately," he sighed and said no more.