Sunlight peeked through the cracks in the shabby tan curtains, and the fresh morning air washed away the dullness of the little attic a little.

Maybe it's because it's so close to the sea, but the humidity is as high as ever. Even in the attic, moss still climbs wantonly in the corners to expand their territory, leaving patches of inexplicable vitality.

When the men of London are still holding their wives – or lovers – in their laps, this may not be a child; In short, while the fellows were still asleep in their fluffy beds, the people of Topoin were already busy.

It's the morning in the port city, and not long after the drunken gold fans of last night are gone, there is a new round of noise and busyness, as if people don't need sleep.

Of course, all this vibrant picture must have nothing to do with the residents of Taimo Lane.

Maca is a resident of this dark alley east of Topoint, and even though he was born in Plymouth, what does it matter?

The poor have their own ways, and naturally they will have their choices, and in this alley full of "ideals" and "futures", it is much more stable than in Plymouth, where many forces converge.

Here, there is not much official sight, and there are no key forces of plutocratic behemoths, which are all in Plymouth! In this darkened port city, there are only various undercurrents of trade that sink beneath the surface of the water.

Although Maca is not very old, she is naturally intelligent and unusually shrewd, and she lives a day and night here. Two hours ago, he had just returned from that colorful night show, and he was sleeping in his slightly old bed! There are a few more cargo ships on the dock or something, where can he take care of these.

Just as he was wandering in his colorful sleep, there was a sudden sound of flapping wings outside the curtain, as if something had landed on the narrow windowsill outside.

"Knock Knock"

It seemed that some bird was pecking at the window frame, and a dull sound came in through the curtains.

The sleeping Maca frowned, not being woken up. He rolled over, and he pulled the quilt over his head to cover his head.

"Knock Knock"

There were three more soft sounds, as if they were knocking on the door, and people were a little concerned about what was tossing outside.

"Knock, knock—"

Three more times, probably the last peck, or something, the old window glass immediately delivered its mission, and the glass shards fell to the ground with a thud. If it weren't for the curtains, the glass slag would have splashed all over the bed by now.

The shabby quilt was suddenly lifted, and Maca sat up with staring eyes. Maybe he hadn't woken up yet, but I saw him looking around, and his confused appearance made people laugh a little.

Suddenly, Maca, who was stunned, pulled back the curtains, but then froze.

Outside the window, a pale gray owl was standing, its big eyes meeting Maka's gaze. After a while, the owl tilted its head and barked dryly, as if it was a little embarrassed by its mistake.

Maca blinked twice, not knowing what to do for a moment. Because he found that he actually saw in the body of an owl the kind of agility that only humans can reveal.

"Do owls have that high IQ?" Maca found herself a little skeptical of her life's tendencies.

"Goo-"

Just as Maca was full of question marks, the owl barked softly, then stretched out its left paw and placed a letter on the edge of the windowsill.

The address was written in emerald green ink on the heavy parchment envelope, and there were no stamps affixed to the envelope. Maca paused for a moment, reached out and picked it up, only to see a fiery red wax seal and a shield coat of arms on it. Around the capital "H", lions, eagles, badgers and snakes each occupy a quarter of the space.

At the top of the coat of arms, a word is printed that is strange and familiar to Maca.

"Hogg, Watts?" Maca spelled the word out with surprise and confusion in her tone.

He didn't rush to open the envelope, but stared blankly at the shield crest, his thoughts drifting farther and farther away. It took a while before I came to my senses.

Wordlessly, he left the envelope on the bed, curled up as he clutched his head tightly with his pale, thin arms. The dull black hair hung messily between the fingers, as if telling the dark and bitter past of all these years.

"It's only ...... now," Maca let out a bitter moan from her dry throat, "Uh-that's ridiculous." ”

Suddenly a gust of sea breeze blew in from the window, which made people feel cold.

Yes, Topointe in June is still a time that has nothing to do with heat.

……

The sun is getting a little higher, and the sun is bringing a touch of warmth to this coastal town. Maka sat outside the window on the roof slope, leaning against the outer wall of the attic and looking out at the sparkling waters of the Taima River. The morning sun rises from the junction of water and sky, gilding the turquoise surface of the river with a sparkling gold.

This is a rare and wonderful sight for Maca, who strolls through the streets late at night all year round.

He stared into the distance in a daze, but in his hand he clutched the letter that had not yet been opened. The letter was so light, yet Maca felt the heaviness it weighed on her heart.

"Snort"

The envelope was gently torn open, and the two rather textured pieces of letter paper were neatly folded together, and Maca pulled them out together. He pinched the corner of the letter and shook it, and the beautiful handwriting gave him a strange sense of unreality.

——————————

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore (President of the International Confederation of Magic, President of the Wizards Guild, First Class Wizard of the Order of Merlin)

Dear Mr. Macklean,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted to attend Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Enclosed is a list of the required books and equipment. Semester is scheduled to begin on September 1. We will wait for the owl to bring you back by July 31.

Also, if the owl needs to stay with you for a while, please feed the little one something to eat.

——————————

Maca read the contents of the letter several times before turning to the next page, but before he could look twice, he pursed his lips and stuffed the letter back into the envelope.

"Yes, yes, it costs money." Maca muttered in a low voice, "Tuition is free, miscellaneous fees are inevitable, I should have thought of it!" ”

He sighed, crawled back to the attic with a sullen expression on his face, and pulled out a few gray pieces of paper from the small cabinet beside the bed and threw them on the counter. Then he pulled out a dirty and dusty suitcase from under the bed, opened it with a "click" despite the dust raised, and pulled out a small long box from inside.

It was a fountain pen, not a good brand, but it was the only birthday present left to him by his long-deceased mother. It is also the most cherished treasure in his life, except for the pound.

"Oh, and ink! Ink! ”

He muttered as he prepared to write a reply. Not far away, the pale gray owl was standing on the bed bar with its head tilted, watching with curiosity as Maca was busy.

Although I was a little rusty with the pen, I didn't forget how to spell the words. Maca's memory is very good, as can be seen from the fact that he usually memorizes a large number of odd pounds without making mistakes, but it is inevitable that the letters written are crooked.

For this reason, he ended up scrapping several pieces of paper.

Watching the owl flutter down and fly out of the window, and soon disappear around the corner, Maca's heart calmed down a little.

He really didn't expect that he, who had made up his mind to sink into the dark side of Britain in despair, would see a miraculous dawn. And what he didn't expect was that this ray of miracle light was actually related to the Hogwarts that was almost buried in the depths of his memory.

"Hogwarts, ha!" Maca chewed on the word again, a heartfelt smile on her face that had long since been buried with her dead mother in the old cemetery in Plymouth.

Just as Maca was thinking about her not-so-distant future, the boy had just woken up from a cupboard under the stairs at 4 Privet Road, Little Whinging, Surrey. And what awaits him will be a chaotic life that is messed up by that "unexpected visitor".

……

More than two months may have been an ordinary life journey for Maca in the past. But now, everything is very different.

Maca said goodbye to the little loft that had accompanied him through 3 years of gloomy years, and also to Uncle Anglo, the owner of the bar who gave him his first job. He sold everything he could to the stolen goods he frequented on the black market, and then, with all the pounds he had made so far, and his renewed anticipation, boarded the ferry to Plymouth.

It was only in Plymouth that he was able to catch the train to London and embark on his new journey in life.

"Let's go see my mother first!" Maka muttered as she leaned against the fence at the edge of the ferry deck, looking in the direction of the other side of the Taima River.

The time spent on the Taima River is not too long, and the distance between the two sides of the river is actually not very far. It wasn't long before Maca was standing in the middle of a slightly messy group of tombs.

At that time, Maca, who was only 9 years old, spent the last money left by his father and erected a tombstone for his mother that was a luxury for him at that time. If nothing else, just because it was the first time he admitted in his heart that this woman who was always busy for money.

“…… Mother," Maca caressed the tombstone he had cleaned, even though it was already noon, but it was still shockingly cold, "It seems like the second time I've called you 'Mother'." ”

He paused, then continued, "To be honest, I can't call you that very naturally until now. I don't know if I should call it that, or I don't know if I have the qualifications. But、Anyway、Now, you are my mother。 It's mine...... Mom. ”

"Ahem, I know, it still doesn't sound like a good idea, but I'm calling it, so you can just listen to it......"

It seems that because of the atmosphere, or the emotion and longing in the past three years, Maca has been talking intermittently for a long time. It wasn't until it was nearly dusk that he stood up, patted his trousers, sighed, and planned to find a cheap inn to stay overnight, and then go to the city center tomorrow to catch the train to London.

The moment he turned around, a light gold flashed through his vision. In the light of the setting sun, it exudes a unique brilliance......