Daily Prophet: On July 6, there was a large-scale clash in Barcelona, Spain, with dozens of wizards killed and thousands of Muggles killed in a stampede.

(What's wrong with you?)

Daily Prophet: On July 17, a large-scale attack by unknown wizards on the Rue des Wizards Saint-Waldau in Paris, France, killed and injured countless people.

(I tried my best.) ）

Daily Prophet: On August 1, Albert Button, director of the International Affairs Department of the British Ministry of Magic, was killed while visiting Germany, and the 1927 Wizarding Peace Agreement was torn up.

(Just hurry.) ）

Daily Prophet: On August 7, the Ministries of Magic identified the perpetrator as a sorcerer whose leader claimed to be the Half-King, and the Wizengamot issued a nationwide warrant for the arrest of anyone associated with a terrorist organization.

(I want to complete the mission.) ）

Daily Prophet: The British Ministry of Magic issued a statement to destroy all magic crystals in its territory, strictly prohibiting any wizard from studying Muggle technology under any name.

(You can't control yourself.) ）

Daily Prophet: On August 19, the Minister of Magic, Hector Foley, resigned from his position as Minister of Magic, which was held by Leonard Spencer Munn.

(It's none of your business.) ）

Daily Prophet: On August 25, the new Minister of Magic issued a death notice for the entire realm, arresting the Half-Human King, whether he lives or dies.

(Well, that's what I'm trying to say, never, never in front of me.) ）

(Osivia: Hoffa.) ）

......

......

......

......

Waiter: "Hoffa." ”

In the dark room, Hofa was violently shaken, awakened from his nightmare, and without hesitation, he threw himself at the man closest to him in front of him.

Boom!

There was a muffled sound.

The man who had been shaking him was pressed against the wall.

"What are you doing? Bach, it hurts me. ”

Hoffa's arms were bruised, his face was pale, and cold sweat was dripping. After a while, his gaze returned to reality, a dimly lit wooden room with a lot of cupboards and kitchen utensils, as well as large bags of potatoes, carrots and other ingredients.

In front of him was a young man with a nervous pockmarked face, wearing a shabby patched apron, raising his hands high, holding a small cloth bag in his right hand, which was being pressed against the wall by himself.

The clock on the wall ticked.

Sensing his gaffe, Hoffa let go of his hand, took a step back, and helped the other party straighten out the messy collar: "I'm sorry, Claire." ”

"Uh...... No, it's fine. You're really strong. The pock-faced boy laughed dryly, a little cramped and uneasy.

Hoffa sat back on the bench where he was sleeping, took a sip of water from the wooden cup, and asked, "What's wrong?"

"Oh, your school grant, it's in the mail. ”

The pock-faced young man remembered something, and quickly stretched out the cloth bag in his hand to Hoffa, "I just sent it." ”

Without saying a word, Hoffa took it, opened it and saw that there were ten gold gallons inside.

"Thanks, Claire. Hoffa said lightly.

"Are you going to Hogwarts this year?"

"Hmm. ”

"Uh...... I'm not going this year, and my Aunt Meryl says she's going to send me to Ilvermorny in the United States. ”

Saying this, the round-faced young man's chest straightened slightly, "I heard that it's safer over there." ”

"Hmm. ”

Hofa was not in a mood and didn't want to talk much to the young man in front of him, but he always stood in front of him with his hands rubbed.

"Anything else?" asked Hoffa, looking up and direct.

"Oh, and, there's another thing, Tom said, the salary can't be given to you on the 30th, and the salary is paid on the 15th of every month, so ......"

"So what?" asked Hoffa calmly.

"So, the salary he will send you to school with an owl on September 15th. The round-faced boy finished with great speed in one breath.

In the dimly lit room, Hoffa was silent for a moment.

"I understand, thank you for coming and telling me. ”

"It doesn't matter. The boy opened the door and slipped out.

When the door closed, Hoffa was the only one left in the dim, oil-stained kitchen storage room. He slackened and looked at his watch.

The second hand on the luminescent dial is constantly turning.

The time shown is August 29, 2:05 p.m.

The magic power displayed is 0.2X.

Hoffa glanced at the small cloth bag in his hand and muttered, "It's time to buy a book." ”

......

At this time, more than a month has passed since that thrilling summer vacation adventure. After returning from Spain, Hoffa tried to find a lot of work, but it didn't go well.

Finally, in August, due to the outbreak of the Wizarding War, several of the hostesses of the Leaky Cauldron Bar quit their jobs in London, so Hoffa was given a chance to work.

He sat on the stool for a moment, then unpacked his backpack and packed his luggage from the Leaky Cauldron. Put it in your own backpack.

Stuffed and stuffed, his fingers touched a hard object, he took it out and looked at it, it turned out to be a small calfskin bag, he was stunned for a second, and then frowned and stuffed the cowhide bag into the corner of the backpack.

A minute later, Hoffa, wearing an apron, closed the door and walked out of the bar's storage room to the lobby of the Leaky Cauldron.

Outside, the Leaky Cauldron was much more deserted than it had been when Hoffa had been here last year, with a sparse crowd at the counter and empty seats on the tables.

It's not the same overcrowding it was when I came last year.

Tom, the owner of the bar, sat in front of the stage, the sparse Mediterranean Sea in his head was completely bare, and he was so worried that he would get angry every day because of the bad business.

The boss is difficult to serve, and Hoffa can't help it.

But luckily, he's about to leave the bar.

He quickly wiped the table clean, cleaned up some of the wine stains and tea grounds left by others, and then carried the trash can to the trash storage in Diagon Alley.

After cleaning the table and cleaning up the garbage, Hoffa walked to the counter of the bar and jumped on the barstool.

Tom wiped the cup, watched Hoffa come over, and said angrily, "What are you doing?"

Hoffa: "It's almost time to start school, Tom, I'm quitting my job to buy books." ”

Tom wiped the cup and said irritably, "Buy books, buy books, why do you tell me?"

Hoffa sat on the barstool, "I don't want to wait until the fifteenth, it's now." ”

"This is the rule, all my employees here are paid on the 15th. Tom said menacingly.

Hoffa grinned, "Yes, according to the rules of the Ministry of Magic, you are not allowed to recruit children under the age of 16 to work, but you still recruited me." ”

"You're ......," Tom said, suffocating.

"A month, 3 Galleons and 4 Kossi, I'll count you 3 Galleons, take it out, or I'll go to the Labor Administration Department of the Ministry of Magic to report you. Hoffa said without much energy.

Boom!!

Tom slammed the glass down on the table, grinning his teeth. But Hoffa didn't blink an eyelid, he still looked at the other party listlessly.

The two looked at each other for nearly twenty seconds until the bell rang at the door of the store and someone entered the store. Old Tom put his finger under the table, took out three gold coins, put them in front of Hoffa, and said through gritted teeth, "Don't think about coming next year, little wizard!"

"Uh-huh. ”

Hoffa shrugged indifferently, wiped his fingers, and put away his wages. He then jumped off the barstool, unbuttoned his apron and tossed it aside, drew his wand, and stood in front of the wall of Diagon Alley, intending to buy books.

However, the man who entered the store caught Hoffa's attention, and a young man with pale blonde hair that he had never seen before strode in from outside.

He was about the same height as himself, wearing a very luxurious dark green coat, and his short pale blonde hair was facing the sky.

The strangest thing was that the boy was accompanied by a house elf, which was crumpled and followed the boy step by step.

"Young master, young master, wait for me. Young Master......"

"Waste, the same waste as your father! Won't you go faster, don't waste my precious time!"

The prickly boy scolded angrily and kicked the house-elf and rolled it away.

Seeing the boy come in, Tom, who was sitting behind the bar counter, had a bright eye, and immediately packed up a smile and rushed out.

Before he could catch up.

"Fuck off, camel. The boy glanced at him in disgust.

As soon as he spoke, the house-elf at his feet also shouted angrily: "Get out, camel, do you hear me!"

Tom was stunned for a moment, then rubbed his hands together and stepped aside.

As soon as Hoffa glanced back, the prickly boy strode up to him, and without squinting, he slammed his shoulder away as if he were just a branch.

Hoffa stood aside, squinting and holding his arm.

The boy stood where he was, pulled out a black prickly pear wand, and tapped the bricks on the wall.

While the wall was opened, he noticed another teenager standing beside him, and he glanced up and down at Hoffa, his gaze resting on his eyes and earrings for a moment.

Then he turned his attention away as the elf tugged at his trouser leg.

"Young master, buy books. ”

It's okay if it doesn't speak.

"Fuck off, idiot, do you want to warn me?"

The young man kicked away the elf at his feet, and said angrily: "I have to buy books by myself, what are these people going to eat!"

The house-elf who had been kicked out of the way was kicked to the ground and rolled on the ground, then bounced like lightning again, and he shook his fist angrily: "That's right, what are you doing for food, you bunch of garbage!"

The young man stepped forward quickly, flew up, kicked the elf away like a ball, and roared: "I scolded my father, and you dare to scold?"

The house-elf immediately knelt on the ground, trembling like chaff: "Young master...... Young master, I was wrong, Dora is a cheap bone, Dora is a bad elf, please cut off Doro's head....."

Boom!

It was kicked off again.

The voices of one man and one elf grew quieter and quieter, and gradually disappeared into Diagon Alley.

Hoffa watched from behind him as the talented young man walked farther and farther away, thinking that he might be able to guess a little bit of the other party's identity.

He pulled out his Hogwarts list and strolled into Diagon Alley, now that he had only one day left before school started, he had to hurry up and buy all the materials he needed.

Due to the outbreak of the Wizarding War, Diagon Alley is now also full of slaughter.

The broken leaves rolled up and stuck to the instep of his feet, and the wizards around him hurried past in turbans, and some wizards stood in the door of Gringotts arguing loudly.

Many of the shops selling entertainment and leisure equipment were closed, and Hoffa saw a sign on the door of the shop selling broomsticks, and the store was subletting.

Only the shops that sell vigilance magic equipment and self-defense magic equipment are in front of the doors.

The store selling second-hand books is across the street from the Blotted bookstore, and second-hand books are much cheaper than first-hand books, only half the price of regular books.

As soon as he walked out of the store after buying books, he saw the pale golden thorn-haired young man standing at the door of the bookstore with his hands behind his back and sneering: "It's not okay to mail it, are the owls in the Brett bookstore all dead?"

With that, he glanced at Hoffa, stopped for a second on the old book he was holding in his arms, snorted disdainfully, and strode away.

The house-elf staggered behind the boy with a stack of new books taller than himself,

"Master Malfoy, Master Malfoy, Wait Doro, Wait Doro......."

Malfoy.

Sure enough, it's from that family, and I don't know what the name is, but this hairstyle is quite different from his offspring and grandchildren.

Hoffa raised an eyebrow and was about to leave.

At this moment, suddenly a palm hit his shoulder, and a teasing voice came from his ears:

"Hi, Mr. Bach. ”