HP: Chaos Sorceress of Hogwarts

At that moment, Elena, who was far from Loch Lomond, was unaware of the consequences of her swift chat.

In her thoughts, Dumbledore should still proceed with "Harry Potter: Brave Cultivation Game," and he had no time to deal with something as trivial as a whimsical girl refusing to enter school.

Of course, she cannot be blamed. After all, the movie "Fantastic Beasts: The Crimes of Grindelwald" had not been released before she crossed over. She cannot know that the two old opponents, Dumbledore and Grindelwald, were finally waiting for the official showdown. Even less likely that she knows the paragraph Grindelwald said that was very similar to her.

The most urgent dilemma facing Elena today is how to break the atmosphere of silence that has lasted almost half an hour in the cabin.

Yes, since Professor McGonagall walked out the door, she and Benítez have not spoken again.

Elena sat at the end of the bed quietly playing with her fingers, while the priest slowly ate breakfast, as if he were cleaning and meticulously sucking the marrow from every slender bone.

"Ah. Are you going to stop talking since then?"

Finally, Benítez sighed helplessly, set down the clean soup cup he had already drunk, and broke the silence first.

"I'm sorry..." The little silver-haired Lolita lifted her head, pursed her lips, and said weakly.

For this man who brought her back to the orphanage from the streets of London and patiently taught her to speak English as a mute girl, and then awkwardly raised her, although Elena did not usually forgive easily, she had already taken him as a father.

However, whether in the magical world or through the end, she cannot confide in the other party like she can with Benítez.

In a sense, this may be the greatest curse carried by the traveler, always bearing a secret that cannot be told.

"Well, it seems like this is a much more complicated problem than stealing explosives from the stone workshop to go to the lake to fry fish."

Benítez raised his eyebrows playfully, trying to make the topic less serious.

"It's over a hundred times more complicated than that, and I'm not stealing. I borrowed it! I wrote down the contact information and purpose of the orphanage, and the fish I caught, I didn't split it in half for them."

Elena pouted. She always appreciated that point, not just fried fish. The basic operation of humans using wisdom to hunt, the Annoying Protection Association finally notified the police and the security department.

It was the first and only time Benítez was angry with her. At that moment, she even thought about running away with her little quilt and small bags overnight when she was in a tight spot.

She sat still, and Benítez ruffled Elena's head firmly, choosing not to continue debating this matter with her. He knew she was definitely not his match in sophistry.

"Don't you want to open it? This letter from the School of Magic."

He took the thick parchment envelope that Professor McGonagall left in the room, and Benítez reached out to the girl, asking gently.

There is no postmark on the envelope, and the address and recipient are clearly written on the front in emerald ink.

[Scottish Highlands, Hard Rock Street, Russ Municipality, the cubicle next to Benítez's orphanage kitchen, in charge of Elena Caslana]

"No, just open it if you want to see it. It's just the class schedule and various supplies to prepare. Anyway, I won't go."

Elena took the thick envelope from Benítez, ran her fingers back and forth on the Hogwarts school emblem, and tossed the letter back into Benítez's arms, shaking her head and muttering to herself.

-There are so many unscrupulous authors who wrote the same humanities in the world of Harry Potter in the past life. Almost all will use the contents of the letter to fill the word count at once. She can recite what she wrote without opening it-

"However, I suggest you do not open it."

Speaking half-heartedly, Elena glanced at the empty bowl Benítez placed on the bed, raised her eyebrows, and added a second thought.

"Forget it, it doesn't matter now; they shouldn't send more letters."

"Why?"

Benítez frowned, puzzled, and asked.

"Because the magical world uses owls to deliver letters; otherwise, do you think you've eaten so many round-faced, plump Scottish chickens from wherever you grabbed them?"

The little silver-haired lolita extended her hands and replied with a natural expression.

"Oh, Heavens."

Upon hearing Elena's response, Benítez rubbed his forehead with one hand and suddenly felt a pang in his temples.