Prologue The dawn called Hogwarts

Sunlight came in through the gaps in the worn tan curtains, and the fresh morning air washed away the dullness in the small attic a little.

Perhaps because it is too close to the sea, the humidity here is still as high as ever. Even on the attic, there are still mosses climbing and expanding their territory wantonly in the corners, leaving patches of inexplicable vitality.

While the men of London are still clinging to their wives under the covers - or lovers, that may be; in short, while the fellows are sleeping soundly in their soft beds, the people of Torpoint are busy. stand up.

This is the morning in the port city. Not long after the luxury of last night was abandoned, a new round of noise and busyness came again, as if people did not need sleep.

Of course, all these vibrant scenes must have nothing to do with the residents of Taymore Lane.

What did it matter that Maca was a resident of this dark alley east of Torpoint, though he had been born in Plymouth?

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

Here, there are not many official sights, and there are no key forces of the chaebol behemoths. Those are all in Plymouth! In this dark port city under the lights, there are only various undercurrent transactions that sink below the surface of the water.

Although Maca is young, relying on his natural intelligence and extraordinary shrewdness, he lives a day and night upside down here. Two hours ago, he just came back from the colorful night scene, sleeping soundly on the slightly old bed! There are a few more cargo ships on the pier, how can he control these.

Just as he was lingering in the colorful dreamland, there was a sudden sound of flapping wings outside the curtains, as if something had landed on the narrow window sill outside.

Boom boom boom

It seemed that some birds were pecking at the window frame, and the dull sound came in through the curtains.

Maca frowned in her sleep, but was not woken up. He turned over and pulled the quilt over his head to cover his head.

Boom boom boom

There were three more soft beeps, as if they were knocking on the door, which made people wonder what was going on outside.

Boom, boom—

Three more times, probably the last one pecked it crookedly or something, the old window glass immediately delivered its mission, and the glass shards fell to the ground. If it wasn't for the curtains, glass shards would have splashed all over the bed by now.

The worn-out quilt was thrown back suddenly, and Makami sat up with her eyes wide open. Maybe he hasn't woken up yet, I saw him looking around, his bewildered appearance made people laugh a bit.

Suddenly, Maka who was in a daze opened the curtains, but then froze.

Outside the window, a light gray owl was standing there, its big eyes meeting Maca's line of sight. Not long after, the owl tilted its head and let out a dry cry, as if it was a little embarrassed about its mistake.

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

Is the IQ of an owl so high? Maca found himself a little suspicious of the direction of life.

Goo—

Just when Maca was full of question marks, the owl let out a soft cry, then stretched out its left paw, and placed a letter on the edge of the window sill.

The heavy parchment envelope was addressed in emerald green ink, and there was no postage stamp on the envelope. Maca froze for a moment, reached out to pick it up, and saw a fiery red wax seal and a coat of arms on it. A lion, eagle, badger and snake each take up a quarter of the capital H.

On the top of the coat of arms, there is a word that is unfamiliar but familiar to Maca.

Hogg, Watts? Maca spelled out the word, his tone full of surprise and confusion.

He didn't rush to open the envelope, but stared blankly at the coat of arms, his thoughts drifting further and further away. It took a while before I came back to my senses.

He left the envelope on the bed without a word, and while curling up, he hugged his head tightly with his pale and thin arms. The dull black hair drooped messily between the fingers, as if telling the dark and bitter past of these years.

It's only now... After a long time, Maca squeezed out a moan full of distress from his dry throat, Ugh——this is ridiculous.

A gust of sea breeze suddenly blows in outside the window, making it extremely cold.

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

...

The sun gradually rose a little, and the sunshine brought a touch of warmth to this coastal town. Maca sat on the slope of the roof outside the window, leaning on the outer wall of the attic and looking at the sparkling water of the Taima River. The rising sun rises from the junction of water and sky, coating the blue river with a layer of shining gold.

For Maca who wanders the streets late at night all year round, this is a rare and unrivaled sight.

He stared at the distance in a daze, but clutched the unopened letter tightly in his hand. This letter is so light, but Maca always feels the heaviness it weighs on her heart.

laugh

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

—————————

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

Principal: Albus Dumbledore (President of the International Federation of Magic, President of the Wizarding Association, first-class magician of the Merlin Sir Order)

Dear Mr. Maca McLean:

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted to study at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Enclosed is a list of required books and equipment. Semester is scheduled to start on September 1. We will wait for the owl to bring your reply before July 31st.

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 take a second look, he pursed his lips and stuffed the letter back into the envelope.

Yes, yes, you still have to spend money. Maca muttered in a low voice, Tuition fees are waived, but miscellaneous fees are inevitable. I should have thought of that earlier!

He sighed, crawled back to the attic with a sullen expression on his face, took out a few gray papers from the small cabinet next to 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 regardless of the dust that was blowing up, and pulled out a small long box from inside.

It was a fountain pen, not a good brand, but the only birthday gift his long-dead mother had left him. It is also the most cherished treasure in his life, besides the British pound.

By the way, ink is needed! Ink!

He muttered as he prepared to write a reply. Not far away, the light gray owl was standing on the bed rail with its head tilted, watching Maca's work curiously.

Although the pen is a little rusty, but at any rate, I haven't forgotten how to spell words. Maca's memory is very good, which can be seen from the fact that he usually memorizes a large number of odd pound amounts without making mistakes, but it is inevitable that the letters he writes are crooked.

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

Seeing the owl fluttering out of the window and quickly disappearing around the corner, Maca felt a little calmer in his heart.

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

Hogwarts, ha! Maca chewed the word again, with a pure and sincere smile on his face that was buried with his dead mother in the old cemetery in Plymouth.

While Maca was thinking about his not-too-distant future, at No. 4 Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey, the Boy Who Lived had just been in the cupboard under the stairs wake up. And what is waiting for him will be the chaotic life that was disturbed by that unexpected visitor.

...

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

Maca bids farewell to the small attic that accompanied him through three dark years, and also bids farewell to the bar owner Uncle Anglo who gave him his first job. He sold everything he could to the black market junkies he frequented, and boarded the ferry to Plymouth with all the pounds he'd earned so far and his renewed hope.

Only in Plymouth can he catch the train to London and embark on his new life journey.

Go and see your mother first! Maca murmured, leaning on the fence at the edge of the ferry deck, looking at the opposite bank of the Taima River.

The time spent rippling in the Taima River is not too long, and the distance between the two sides of the river is not too far. Not long after, Maca was already standing in a group of slightly messy tombs.

At that time, Maca, who was only 9 years old, spent the last sum of money left by his father and set up a tombstone for his mother, which was considered a luxury for him at the time. Not for anything else, just because it was the first time, the first time in his heart, he admitted this woman who was always busy with money.

...Mother... Maca caressed the tombstone that he had cleaned up. Even though it was already noon, it was still astonishingly cold. This seems to be the second time I call you 'mother'.

He paused, and then continued: To be honest, I still can't call you that naturally. I don't know whether I should call you that, or rather, I don't know if I have the qualifications. But, Anyway, now, you are my mother. My... mother.

Heh, I know, this still sounds very crude, but at least I called, so you can just listen to it...

It seemed that it was because of the atmosphere, or because of the emotion and longing in the past three years, Maca spoke intermittently for a long time. It wasn't until it was almost dusk that he stood up, patted his pants, sighed, and planned to find a cheaper hotel to stay overnight, and then go to the city center to take the train to London tomorrow.

The moment he turned his head, a touch of light gold flashed across his vision. Under the reflection of the setting sun, it exudes a unique brilliance...