Harry Potter: I Am a Legend

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

(What's wrong with you?)

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

(I tried my best.)

"Daily Prophet": On August 1, the director of the Department of International Affairs of the British Ministry of Magic, Albert Bouton, was killed during a visit to Germany. The 1927 Wizarding Peace Agreement was torn up.

(Try your best? Just hurry up.)

"Daily Prophet": On August 7, the Ministry of Magic of various countries identified the perpetrator as a constructed wizard. The leader of the organization claimed to be a half-man king. Wiesengamo issued a wanted warrant across the territory to arrest anyone associated with a 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 territory and strictly prohibit any wizard from researching Muggle technology in any name.

(You can't control yourself.)

"Daily Prophet": On August 19, Minister of Magic Hecht Welfare took the blame and resigned from the post of Minister of Magic, which was held by Leonard Spencer Muen.

(This has nothing to do with you.)

"Daily Prophet": On August 25, the new Minister of Magic issued a death wanted in the whole territory, arresting the half-man king, regardless of life or death.

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

(Osivia: Hoffa.)

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Waiter: "Hoffa."

In the dark room, Hoffa was shaken violently and awake from the nightmare. He did not hesitate to pounce on the man who was closest to him in front of him.

Boom!

There was a muffled sound.

The man who kept shaking him was pressed against the wall.

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

Hoffa's arms were violently blue, his face was pale, and his sweat was cold. It took a while before his eyes focused back to reality. It was a dim wooden room with a lot of cupboards and kitchen utensils, as well as large packages of potatoes, carrots and other ingredients.

In front of him was a tense-looking boy with a round pockmark face, wearing a shabby patched apron, holding his hands up, holding a small cloth sack in his right hand, he was pressing hard against the wall.

The clock on the wall is ticking.

Perceiving his failure, Hoffa let go of his hand, took a step back, and helped the other party tidy up the messy collar: "Sorry, Claire."

"Uh...no, it's okay. Your strength is really big enough." The pocky-faced boy laughed, a little embarrassed.

Hoffa sat back on the bench used to sleep, raised his head and gumbled a sip of the water in the wooden cup, and asked, "What's the matter?"

"Oh, your enrollment grant is here."

The pocky-faced boy remembered something, and quickly stretched the cloth bag in his hand to Hoffa, "Just sent it."

Hoffa took it without saying a word and opened it to see that there were ten Jin Jialongs inside.

"Thank you, Claire." Hoffa said lightly.

"Are you going to Hogwarts this year?"

"Ok."

"Uh...I won't go this year, and my Aunt Meryl said that she wants to send me to Ifamoni in the United States."

Having said this, the boy with a round pockmarked face stiffened a little, "I heard it's safer over there."

"Ok."

Hoffa was lacking in interest and didn't want to talk more with the teenager in front of him, but he always stood in front of him with his hands rubbed.

"Is there anything else?" Hoffa asked directly, raising his head.

"Oh, there's one more thing, Tom said, the salary cannot be given to you on the 30th, the salary is paid on the 15th of every month, so..."

"So what?" Hoffa asked calmly.

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

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

"I understand, thank you for telling me."

"It's okay." The boy opened the door in relief and slipped out.

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

The second hand on the luminous dial keeps turning.

The time displayed is August 29th, 2:05 pm.

The displayed magic power is 0.2X.

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

......

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

Finally, in August, due to the outbreak of the Wizarding War, several entertainers at the Broken Cauldron Bar quit their jobs in London, so Hoffa had a chance to get a job.

He sat on the stool for a while, then opened his backpack and packed his luggage in the broken cauldron bar. Put it in your backpack.

Tucked, his finger touched a hard object. He took it out and looked at it. It turned out to be a calf leather bag. He was stunned for a second, then frowned and stuffed the leather 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, and came to the lobby of the Broken Cauldron Bar.

Outside at the moment, the Broken Cauldron Bar was much colder than when Hoffa came last year, the crowd was sparsely in front of the counter, and the seats on the table were empty.

It's no longer the overcrowded look when I came last year.

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

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

Fortunately, he will leave this bar soon.

He quickly wiped the table clean, cleaned up some wine stains and tea dregs left by others, and then took the trash can to the trash deposit in Diagon Alley.

After clearing the table and cleaning up the trash, Hoffa walked to the bar counter and jumped on the high stool.

Tom was wiping the glass, watching Hoffa come, and said angrily: "What are you doing?"

Hoffa: "It's almost time for school, Tom, I'm going to quit my job and buy books."

Tom wiped the cup and said irritably, "Buy a book when you buy a book. Why are you telling me?"

Hoffa sat on the high stool. "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 aggressively.

Hoffa grinned and said, "Really? According to the rules of the Ministry of Magic, you are still not allowed to recruit child laborers under the age of 16, but you still recruited me."

"You..." Tom choked.

"One month, 3 gallons and 4 kasi, I count you 3 gallons, take it out, or I will report you to the Labor Administration Department of the Ministry of Magic." Hoffa said with no energy.

Boom! !

Tom put the glass heavily on the table, grinning. But Hoffa didn't blink his eyelids, he still looked at each other listlessly.

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

"Hmm."

Hoffa shrugged indifferently, wiped his finger, and put away his wages. Afterwards, he jumped off the high stool, untied his apron and threw it aside, drew out his wand, and stood in front of the wall of Diagon Alley, planning to buy a book.

However, at this time, the person who entered the store attracted Hoffa's attention, and a young man with pale blond hair that he had never seen walked in from outside.

He was about the same height as himself, wearing a very luxurious dark green coat, and his short, light blond hair turned upside down.

The weirdest thing was that a house elf followed the young man. It was wrinkled and followed the young man step by step.

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

"Trash, trash like your father! Will you go faster, don't waste my precious time!"

The stabbing boy scolded and kicked the house elf to a roll.

Seeing the boy coming in, Tom, who was sitting behind the bar counter, brightened his eyes and immediately packed up a flower-like smile and rushed out.

He hasn't waited for him to meet him.

"Go away, hunchback." The boy glanced at him disgustingly.

As soon as he spoke, the house elf under his feet also shouted angrily: "Get out of the way, hunchback, do you hear me!"

Tom was taken aback for a moment, then rubbed his hands and stepped aside in a weird manner.

Hoffa had just turned his head and glanced, the thorny boy strode to his side, and knocked him away with his shoulder without squinting, as if he was just a branch.

Hoffa stood aside, squinted and folded his arms.

The boy stood on the spot, took out a black prickly pear wand, and knocked on the bricks on the wall.

While waiting for the wall to open, he noticed the other teenager standing beside him. He glanced up and down at Hoffa, and his gaze stayed on his eyes and earrings for a moment.

Then, his attention shifted away, because the elf was pulling his trouser legs.

"Master, buy a book."

It's okay not to speak.

"Go away, fool, want you to remind me?"

The boy kicked the elves at his feet and said angrily: "I have to buy books by myself. What do these people do to eat!"

The kicked house elf was kicked to the ground and rolled, and then bounced like lightning. He waved his fist angrily: "Yes, what did you eat? That bunch of waste!"

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

The house elf immediately knelt on the ground, trembling like chaff: "Master...Master, I was wrong, Duo Luo is a cheap bone, Duo Luo is a bad elf, please cut off Duo Luo's head... ..."

Boom!

It was kicked again.

The voice of one person and one spirit is getting smaller and smaller, and gradually disappears in Diagon Alley.

Hoffa stared blankly at the back of the football-talented teenager going further and further, thinking that he might be able to guess the identity of the opponent.

He took out the Hogwarts list and walked into Diagon Alley. Now there is only one day left before the start of school. He must quickly buy all the teaching materials he needs.

Due to the eruption of the Wizarding War, Diagon Alley is now also killing.

The broken leaves rolled up and stuck to the back of his feet. The surrounding wizards wrapped in turbans hurried past, and some wizards stood at the gate of Gringotts arguing loudly.

Many shops selling entertainment and leisure equipment are closed. Hoffa saw a sign posted on the door of the shop selling flying broomsticks, and the store was sublet.

Only those shops that sell warning magic equipment and self-defense magic equipment are crowded.

The shop selling second-hand books is opposite to Lihen Bookstore. Second-hand books are much cheaper than first-hand books, only half of ordinary books.

As soon as he walked out of the store after buying the books, he saw the pale blonde thorn-haired boy with his hands on his back, standing in front of the bookstore with a sneer: "You can't send it by post, are all the owls in the Lihen Bookstore dead?"

After speaking, he glanced at Hoffa, paused for a second on the old book in his arms, hummed disdainfully, and strode away.

The house elf hugged a stack of new books taller than himself, and followed the boy staggeringly.

"Master Malfoy, Master Malfoy, wait for Doro, wait for Doro..."

Malfoy.

Sure enough, it is 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 his eyebrows 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."