The heavy snow that has lasted for several days has buried all the uncleanness on the streets of this ancient city of London, but the ever-clear sky seems to indicate that a more intense snowstorm is brewing. On the old streets, Many Muggle cleaners tried their best to deal with the snow on the road and struggled to clear a passable road.
Amosta Brain, wearing a dark green old coat, stood in the bare yard, staring deeply at the unfinished building in front of him. His lavender eyes seemed to contain extraordinary magic.
Different from the surrounding buildings that have accumulated historical vicissitudes and ancient charm, it is a boxy six-story building with no style, like a student dormitory, with more than a dozen rooms on each floor. It can be expected that when it is completed, It must be able to house quite a few people.
"Amosta!"
The call from the street outside the iron gate suddenly brought Amosta back to his senses. He turned around and looked around. When he saw the middle-aged woman with a hurried expression, the smile on her young face was gentle and friendly.
"Good morning, Mrs. Reagan."
"Oh, you should have said hello beforehand, Amosta."
After a hasty hug, Mrs. Reagan said in a reproachful tone.
"Hey, I'm sorry. Actually, I didn't plan to be in such a hurry, but something happened, which may cause me to be away from home for the next few months, so I came back temporarily to check the progress."
Amosta curled his lips and spoke in a relaxed and casual tone.
"Yeah, yeah, you're always in such a hurry."
Mrs. Reagan proudly looked at the handsome Amosta, the most promising child who had walked out of the orphanage in recent years, with a face full of joy.
"You don't have to worry, Amosta. Mr. Parker from the construction team said that they will continue working as soon as the Christmas holiday is over. In just two months, the children will be able to move into their new home!"
"Yeah, I guess that's what they were expecting."
Amosta smiled, and then he opened the suitcase he carried with him, took out two wads of pounds from it, and put it into Mrs. Reagan's hand.
Gringotts does have the business of exchanging Muggle currency, but there are strict restrictions on both the exchange rate and the amount of exchange, so Amosta prefers to turn the gold coins in his hand into gold bricks, and then find a non-exchange store in London. Then converting it into pounds in a regular gold shop will also cause some unnecessary losses, but compared to doing business with greedy goblins, the losses incurred are acceptable.
"This is the final payment for the project. Please transfer it to Mr. Parker for me."
Mrs. Reagan pursed her lips. She had already said too many words of thanks and there was no need to be polite anymore. She carefully hid the money in her oil-soaked apron, her tone filled with gratitude and expectation.
"Are you going to see the children, Amosta? They want to see you very much, especially Little Hammer. He has been clamoring for several days, complaining that you did not fulfill your promise to spend Christmas with them."
"Say sorry to him for me, Mrs. Reagan. I will bring him a gift during the summer vacation."
"All right."
There was obvious disappointment in Mrs. Reagan's tone, but she did not try to persuade her. She knew that if Amosta had time, he would not refuse to see the children. It seemed that he had indeed encountered something he was anxious to solve. .
The pleasantries did not take much time. Mrs. Reagan had to rush back to take care of the children who were waiting for food. Amosta only stayed for a short time after Mrs. Reagan left and walked out of the depressed courtyard.
He took steady steps and walked eastward along the newly cleaned street. The old buildings on both sides of the road that revealed countless memories of his childhood did not slow him down.
Only when passing a ten-foot-wide river, I stood on a dilapidated arch bridge and stared at the frozen river, and I lost consciousness. Then, I walked towards a wasteland planted with sparse birch trees.
Located in the middle of the wasteland is a cemetery surrounded by rickety fences.
"The whirlwind sweeps away."
Amosta did not take out his hand from his pocket, but just moved his lips. Several small tornadoes rose out of thin air in the desolate cemetery, brushing away the rows of tombstones and the accumulation of black and gray pebbles on the island. After the snow, it disappeared without a sound.
"Sorry, Grandma Felena, I forgot to bring flowers."
Amosta walked up to a white tombstone, bent down and brushed away the ice water on the marble obelisk with the epitaph inscribed on it. Then, he stood up straight and looked at the old man with a kind smile in the black and white photo on the tombstone. , muttered quietly.
Buried under the tombstone is the old man who took good care of him in the orphanage when he was a child. He is also the only relative he has recognized since he was born in this world as a baby.
As if feeling his sadness, the owl that came against the biting cold wind was not eager to complete the task. Instead, it stopped on the nearest birch tree, tilted its head and stared at Amosta below, and kept looking at Amosta from time to time. Use its sharp beak to comb the wind-ruffled wing feathers.
"In the next few months, I will go back to the school that teaches people 'jugglery'. That school is now in some trouble. Some people hope that I can find something in the chaos. To be honest, this has nothing to do with me personally. does not match his wishes--
Albus Dumbledore, that old man with a white beard who always likes to pretend to run into me in the library in the middle of the night, reminding me that staying up late is harmful to my body, won’t like what I’m doing now, and I won’t be happy to be in his presence. Walking underground... But there was nothing I could do. They gave me too much, which was worth my hard work for more than half a year.
Moreover, after the new dormitory is built, I hope to help the children solve their education problems-"
The biting cold wind took away Amosta's melancholy sigh, but it could not wipe away the annoyance on that handsome face.
"It's a pity. If I could recall the plot, I could probably get it done as quickly as possible and get the money."
A single sentence revealed the deepest secret hidden in the heart of the young man standing in the desolate cemetery.
Yes, Amosta Brain is not a 'native' local. His soul comes from a blue planet without any supernatural power.
The story of Harry Potter was his favorite reading as a boy in his previous life, but more than twenty years have passed since he received the admission letter to Hogwarts in this life, and all his memories are blurred, even ten years ago. , when he received the owl letter in the cold room of the orphanage, he thought it was some latest popular prank.
It wasn't until a gutter-nosed man with greasy hair came to him and turned his bed into a toilet with a stick that he suddenly realized that what he had started in this life was not some urban superpower script.
After that, he tried his best to recall the Harry Potter scripts, but all he could get were some specious words, such as Horcruxes, sacred objects, love and scars, Voldemort and resurrection, etc. What he got was far less than what he got when he entered the Wizarding World. Information from personal investigation since the beginning of the world.
Of course, after becoming proficient in magic, Amosta also tried to use unconventional means to trace his memories.
But those messages were so stubbornly forgotten, no matter how hard Amosta tried, they were all hidden in a flowing gray mist, as if someone had protected them with unimaginable magic. In the end, many methods were tried. , he almost made something wrong with himself and had no choice but to give up.
"The boy named Potter is in his second year this year and has several years left before graduation. Therefore, I don't think he has to face the most dangerous situation.
After all, Dumbledore is there - ah, no, the danger comes from Dumbledore..."
call…
Looking at the white air blown away by the wind, a bitter smile condensed on Amosta's face,
"No matter which world you live in, survival is an extremely difficult thing, right, Grandma Felena?"
Fine snowflakes were falling in the sky again, and the owl on the treetops began to hoot with increasing frequency. Amosta stretched out his hand in the air, and the small piece of paper under the eagle's talons was cut open with a hiss. The gray snow on the ground against the dark sky rested firmly on Amosta's palm.
Dear Mr. Blaine
I have completed negotiations with the Hogwarts School Board. Currently, the School Board has approved our plan. You need to arrive at Hogwarts before eight o'clock tonight and state to Dumbledore face to face how you plan to investigate and launch the attack. murderer.
In addition, Lucius Malfoy firmly rejected the proposal to send an inquisitor. He believed that Albus Dumbledore should be dismissed directly. The Greengrass family was the only one who seconded the proposal.
Yours truly, Karkus Foley
The scrawled handwriting clearly shows the urgent mood of the writer. The gray owl who completed the task but failed to receive the reward gave a dissatisfied cry, then fluttered its wings and quickly disappeared into the chaotic snowflakes.
Amosta closed his palm, and Cacus's note turned into seeds and grew a bouquet of pure white carnations in his palm.
"Do you like this trick, Grandma Felena?"
The old man on the monument smiled happily.
Amosta also laughed. He turned around and walked into the wind and snow. After the explosion, there was no one in the desolate cemetery. Only a low oath wandered among the sparse woods.
"The train of destiny, are you ready to travel in an unknown direction?"
ps: Please give me some collection, recommendation, investment, thank you (Chapter 2 before five o'clock)
