"Daily Prophet": On July 6, a large-scale conflict broke out in Barcelona, ​​Spain. Dozens of wizards died and thousands of Muggles died in a stampede.

(What on earth is wrong with you?)

"Daily Prophet": On July 17, the Saint-Waldau Wizarding Street in Paris, France, was attacked by a large-scale unknown wizard, resulting in numerous casualties.

(I tried my best.)

"Daily Prophet": On August 1, Albert Bouton, Director of the Department of International Affairs of the British Ministry of Magic, was killed during a visit to Germany, and the 197 Wizarding Peace Agreement was torn up.

(Try your best? Just be faster.)

"Daily Prophet": On August 7, the Ministry of Magic of various countries determined that the murderer was a construct wizard, and the leader of the organization claimed to be the Half-Man King. The Wizengamot issued a nationwide arrest warrant to arrest anyone associated with the terrorist organization.

(I want to complete the task.)

"Daily Prophet": The British Ministry of Magic issued a statement to destroy all magic crystals in the country and strictly prohibited any wizard from researching Muggle technology in any name.

(You can't control yourself.)

"Daily Prophet": On August 19, Minister of Magic Hector Foley resigned from the post of Minister of Magic, taking the blame. The position was held by Leonard Spencer Moon.

(This has nothing to do with you.)

"Daily Prophet": On August 5, the new Minister of Magic issued a nationwide death warrant, arresting the half-human king, whether alive or dead.

(Very good, this is what I want to say, never, never appear in front of me.)

(Ossivia: Hoffa.)

...

...

...

...

Waiter: "Hoffa."

In the dark room, Hoffa was shaken violently and woke up from his nightmare. He threw himself at the man closest to him without hesitation.

Boom!

There was a muffled sound.

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

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

Hoffa had veins on his arms, his face was pale, and he was sweating. After a while, his eyes returned to reality. This was a dark wooden room with many cupboards, kitchen utensils, and large and small bags.

Potatoes, carrots and other ingredients.

In front of him was a nervous-looking boy with a pockmarked face, wearing a shabby and patched apron, raising his hands in the air. He had a small cloth bag in his right hand, which he was pressing against the wall.

The clock on the wall is ticking.

Realizing that he had lost his composure, Hoffa let go of his hand, took a step back, and helped the other party straighten his messy collar: "Sorry, Claire."

"Uh... No, it's okay. You are really strong." The pockmarked boy laughed dryly, feeling a little embarrassed.

Hoffa sat back on the bench for sleeping, raised his head, took a sip of water from the wooden cup, and asked, "What's wrong?"

"Oh, your admission subsidy has been sent."

The pockmarked boy thought of something and quickly stretched out the bag in front of Hoffa, "It was just sent."

Hoffa took it without saying a word, opened it and saw ten gold galleons inside.

"Thank you, Claire." Hoffa said lightly.

"Are you going to Hogwarts this year?"

"Um."

"Uh... I'm not going this year. My Aunt Meryl said she would send me to Ilvermorny in the United States."

After saying this, the pockmarked boy's chest puffed up a little, "I heard it's safer over there."

"Um."

Hoffa was uninterested and didn't want to talk to the young man in front of him, but he kept rubbing his hands and standing in front of him.

"Is there anything else?" Hoffa raised his head and asked directly.

"Oh, one more thing, Tom said, the salary cannot be given to you on the 0th, the salary is paid on the 15th of every month, so..."

"So what?" Hoffa asked calmly.

"So, he will send your salary to the school by owl on September 15th." The round-faced boy finished speaking very quickly.

In the dim room, Hoffa was silent for a moment.

"I understand, thank you for coming to tell me."

"It's okay." The young man opened the door with relief and slipped out.

After the door closed, Hoffa was the only one left in the dark and oil-stained kitchen storage room. He relaxed and looked at his watch.

The second hand on the luminous dial keeps turning.

The time displayed is August 29, 1:05 pm.

The displayed magic power is 0.X.

Hoffa glanced at the small bag in his hand and muttered: "It's time to buy books."

...

At this time, more than a month had passed since that thrilling summer vacation adventure. After returning from Spain, Hoffa tried to find many jobs, but nothing went well.

Finally, in August, due to the outbreak of the Wizarding War, several waiters at the Leaky Cauldron resigned from their jobs in London, so Hoffa got the opportunity to work.

He sat on the stool for a while, then opened his backpack and packed his luggage from the Leaky Cauldron and put it into his backpack.

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

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

Outside, the Leaky Cauldron was much deserted than when Hoffa came last year. There were only a few people in front of the counter and the seats on the tables were empty.

It is no longer as crowded as it was when I came last year.

Tom, the bar owner, was sitting in front of the stage, and the sparse Mediterranean on his head had completely turned into a bald forehead. Because of the poor business, he was so worried that he would get angry every day.

The boss is difficult to maintain, and Hoffa has no choice.

Fortunately, he was leaving the bar soon.

He quickly wiped the table clean, collected some wine stains and tea residue left by others, and then carried the trash can to the garbage storage place in Diagon Alley.

After clearing the table and putting away the trash, Hoffa walked to the bar counter and jumped on a high stool.

Tom wiped the cup, looked at Hoffa coming over, and said angrily: "What are you doing?"

Hoffa: "The time for admission is coming, Tom. I'm going to resign and go buy books."

Tom said irritably while wiping the cup: "If you buy a book, just buy a book. Why are you telling me?"

Hoffa sat on the barstool, "I don't want to wait until the 15th, it's now."

"This is a rule. All my employees here are paid on the 15th." Tom said angrily.

Hoffa grinned: "Really? 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 hired me."

"You..." Tom's tone was choked.

"One month, Galleons 4 kilos, I'll count your Galleons, take it out, or I will report you to the Labor Administration Department of the Ministry of Magic." Hoffa said without energy.

Boom!!

Tom slammed the glass on the table and bared his teeth. But Hoffa didn't even blink. He still looked at him listlessly.

The two stared at each other for nearly twenty seconds, until the bell at the door of the store rang and someone entered the store. Old Tom put his fingers under the table, took out a gold coin, put it in front of Hoffa, and said through gritted teeth: "

Don’t even think about coming next year, little wizard!”

"uh-huh."

Hoffa shrugged indifferently, put away his wages with a flick of his finger. Then he jumped off the stool, untied his apron and threw it aside, took out his wand, and stood in front of the wall of Diagon Alley, planning to buy books.

However, at this moment, the person who entered the store attracted Hoffa's attention. A boy with light blond hair whom he had never seen before strode in from outside.

He was about the same height as himself, wore a very luxurious dark green coat, and had short pale blond hair pointing upwards.

The weirdest thing is that the young man is accompanied by a house elf, which is wrinkled and follows the young man step by step.

"Master, Master, wait for me. Master..."

"Trash, just like your father! Can you walk faster? Don't waste my precious time!"

The spiky-haired boy cursed angrily and kicked the house elf, sending it rolling.

Seeing the young man come in, Tom, who was sitting behind the bar counter, his eyes lit up and he immediately put on a flowery smile and rushed out.
To be continued...