Hogwarts: I can load entries infinitely!

"Ouch! You little monster! I was kind enough to treat you, but you actually bit me!"

A remote shop on the side of Diagon Alley near Gringotts was filled with the screams of owls and underage kittens. The sound was so harsh that it seemed to tear down the roof.

The air is filled with the strong smell of bird droppings, an frowning smell that can be smelled even from outside the street.

Although the excitement of the international exchange meeting made other shops in Diagon Alley almost full, this pet shop was deserted and empty.

Most of the tourists pinched their noses and took a detour for fear of being "attacked" by the smell.

In front of the counter in the store, a middle-aged wizard was frowning and looking down at his bleeding fingers.

He pointed his wand at the wound and muttered a healing spell in a low voice, trying to stop the bleeding. However, after several attempts, the wound only bled less and showed no signs of healing at all.

The man smacked his lips impatiently, stuffed the wand back into his waist angrily, and couldn't help cursing.

"Merlin's pants! What's the matter, old man? They were fine the past two days, why don't they work today?"

He looked up at the snow-white owl on the workbench.

The guy was staring at him with sharp golden eyes, his wings slightly spread, as if he was ready to pounce again at any time.

The man snorted and pointed at the owl, his tone full of complaints.

"You little white-eyed wolf! Of all the owls I have ever raised, you are the most ungrateful. Even the white-eyed wolf is not as white as you!"

The owl was unmoved, as if it understood his complaint, it raised its head proudly and let out a short hoot.

After the man finished complaining, he let out a long sigh, as if he had vomited out all his depression.

He slumped back on the chair, folded his hands behind his head, and stared at the owl with his big eyes.

"Sigh - I've really been memorizing words lately,"

He said to himself, his eyes falling on the owl.

"I picked up a guy as young as you and with broken wings. I probably won't be able to sell it for much."

As soon as he finished speaking, the snow-white owl seemed to understand, and immediately let out a sharp cry, with dissatisfaction gleaming in its golden eyes.

It tried to flap its wings, but due to the injury to its left wing, its movements seemed clumsy and weak.

The man glanced at the blood seeping out of its left wing and frowned slightly.

He came closer and looked at the wound carefully. It looked like it had been pierced by a sharp weapon. The surrounding feathers were stained red with blood, and it looked like it was seriously injured.

Seeing the owl's desperate resistance, the man couldn't help but laugh, his laughter was low and a bit teasing.

"Haha, look at you! I just said it casually, do you really treat yourself as a commodity? Tsk tsk, don't worry, I know you must be some little wizard's pet. You lost your master and ended up here with me."

The owl's hoot gradually weakened, as if it was weighing his authenticity, but its eyes were still staring at him warily, as if to warn him not to act rashly.

The man reached out and scratched his messy hair, with a hint of helplessness in his tone.

"Don't worry, I won't violate professional ethics. But then again -"

He glanced at the wand in his hand, and his face suddenly fell.

"Well, if this wand breaks completely, I'll have to go to Ollivanders and buy another one. Oh my God, eight galleons! Eight galleons! How many owls do I have to sell to make my money back?"

As he spoke, he covered his face in an exaggerated manner and let out an exaggerated wail, as if the sky was falling.

He raised his head and glanced at the empty shop, scanning the owls and kittens resting quietly, his eyes filled with sadness.

"Consumption has been downgraded... Let's try our luck at the second-hand market in a few days to see if there are any wands that others have eliminated."

The man let out a long sigh, and the chair leaned back, making a slight "squeak" sound.

He closed his eyes, as if brewing his emotions, and then returned his attention to the snow-white owl in front of him.

The owl was still staring at its big golden eyes, with distrust and resistance in its eyes, and its whole body was tense, as if it would pounce on him in the next second.

The man was a little hairy at being stared at, and he rubbed his nose with a hint of helplessness in his tone.

"Little sister, I know you are eager to return to your master, and I also know that you must know the way home, but look at what you look like now - your wings are broken. How can you fly back without healing? Be obedient and be good. Recuperate here for a week at most. When you recover, I will take you to the hospital in person, okay?"

There was a hint of patience in coaxing the child in his tone, but the owl obviously didn't buy it. Instead of relaxing its vigilance, it began to flapping and crawl towards him, its beak opened, as if to peck his hand.

Seeing this posture, the man quickly retracted his hand and muttered.

"Oh, what a stubborn little ancestor."

Then he reluctantly opened the drawer next to him, took out a stack of old newspapers and slapped it on the table, pretending not to pay attention to it.

"Okay, you can do whatever you want. When you are tired and have no energy left, I will treat you again."

After speaking, he pulled out the latest "Daily Prophet" from the pile of newspapers, shook it, unfolded it, leaned back in his chair and started reading.

"Well, the international exchange meeting is now in full swing."

He muttered as he read, a wry smile appearing on the corner of his mouth.

"Haha, so many people are pouring into Diagon Alley, why don't they get some of the popularity of my shabby shop? Do the gringos really dislike my place for being too shabby?"

He shook his head and glanced down at the headline again.

"Romanian dragon farm riot? Tsk, I hope nothing serious happened there. Dragons are not easy to mess with."

His eyes continued to move down, and suddenly stopped at a piece of news, frowning slightly.

"Huh? Sweden? More than 300 people missing? It's a major incident... This is not a small matter, and I don't know which bastard did it."

The man was concentrating on the news in the newspaper, but he heard a rustling sound in his ears, as if something was trying to move.

He frowned, raised his head and looked, just in front of the snow-white owl.

It was using its sharp beak and uninjured claws to laboriously pull out a piece of paper from the pile of newspapers, clumsy and stubborn, as if this was a matter of life and death.

The man raised his eyebrows, stood up and walked over, bent down and pulled out the newspaper, his movements were brisk and a bit teasing.

"Hey, little guy, you know how to pick newspapers to read? Are you going to pass on some confidential information to me?"

He looked down and the title of the newspaper instantly caught his eye. It was the issue he had read earlier: "Hogwarts Duel Open Tournament Special".

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