The Druid Master of Hogwarts

It was a morning as always.

The sky over London was as foggy as ever.

Mr. Evans, who lives on Christchurch Road, opened his own shop at seven in the morning as usual.

The little shop run by Mr. Evans was one of the most common restaurants in England, of the fish-and-chips kind.

Although it's not a well-known old shop, Evans' small shop is well-known in this area near Christchurch Road. The office workers around who don't have time to cook often come here to solve the problem of food and clothing.

Unlike most fish and chip shops, Evans doesn't use cod as its main ingredient, but instead opts for larger bonito.

And why Mr. Evans chose bonito...

That's of course because bonito is cheaper!

As for the taste...the fried fish he sells is cheap and large. Does the taste matter? It's almost the same after it's fried.

Besides, it's not that Mr. Evans is arrogant. With the tongues of most of his compatriots, it is indeed not an easy task to distinguish the difference between bonito and cod.

After opening the store, Mr. Evans hummed a ditty that could not be heard in the original key, and came to the kitchen to start processing the ingredients.

While opting for cheaper bonito as raw material, Mr. Evans insists on using fresh live fish for all his fish.

The bonito in the kitchen he had just pulled from old Wright was still alive and kicking.

Reaching out and grabbing a bonito, Evans skillfully threw it to the cutting board. The bonito, which was still struggling, fell into a coma in an instant, and was quickly decomposed by Evans with a kitchen knife, and neatly stacked aside. on the plate.

After processing a dozen or so bonito in the same way, Mr. Evans stopped his work and picked up the fish plate, ready to coat them in flour and bread crumbs before placing them in the frying pan. fried.

But as soon as Mr. Evans picked up the plate, he immediately noticed something was wrong.

Lightweight.

Mr. Evans, who has been in this business for more than ten years, has a clear concept of how much fish he has cut. The weight of the fish in his hand is obviously slightly different from the amount he has cut.

"strangeness……"

Mr. Evans looked around and found no fallen fish on the ground.

Could it be that when you just cut the fish, you accidentally threw the fish meat and internal organs into the trash can?

He scratched his thinning hair suspiciously, but Mr. Evans didn't care too much. Anyway, from the feeling, there were probably two or three pieces of fish missing. It was not worth wasting time for this fish, because the first A batch of customers is coming soon.

Mr. Evans, who put the matter aside, went about his usual procedure, frying up fish and chips.

Even after the arrival of the guests, Mr. Evans used it as a talk point and chatted with those old customers.

However, what Mr. Evans never expected was that today was just the beginning.

As the days passed, Mr. Evans lost more and more fish meat, and the amount of fish lost more and more. He even rummaged through the trash can, but he did not throw the fish into it by himself.

However, no matter how carefully Mr. Evans guarded the cut fish, he still couldn't stop the fish from disappearing. He even put the fish plate under his nose, but the fish seemed to have grown legs. It was gone in the blink of an eye.

After experiencing the mysterious disappearance of fish again, Mr. Evans finally couldn't bear it anymore, and spent fifteen pence "a huge sum" to hire seven-year-old John from his neighbor's John's house to help him to see how his fish disappeared. .

another new morning,

Mr. Evans brought little John to his small shop. He first let little John get into the box he had prepared, while he handled the fresh bonito as usual.

Little John hid in the box beside him, staring at the plate on the table through the gap in the box.

Nothing happened at first, but as the fish on it gradually increased, a ghostly figure suddenly appeared on the cupboard above Mr. Evans' head.

It was a silver-gray tabby cat. Little John couldn't tell whether he belonged to the British Shorthair or the American Shorthair. The kitten didn't look very old, and its size was only a little bigger than the palm of an adult. A pair of green eyes Through the gap in the cabinet, he stared at the fish on the table.

The kitten turned its ears and seemed to sense the presence of Little John. The big green eyes turned to the box where he was hiding, and stopped there for a moment.

Little John met those emerald green eyes through the gap in the box, and his little hands covered his mouth and nose hard, afraid that he would accidentally make a noise to disturb the kitten.

Seemingly aware that Little John didn't intend to stop him, the tabby kitten withdrew its gaze and refocused on the bonito meat on the table.

Confirming that Mr. Evans was not paying attention to the fish, the tabby kitten floated down from the cupboard like a ghost and landed gently on the table without making a single sound.

Turning his head and glancing at Mr. Evans, who was still immersed in his work, the tabby kitten quickly picked up a piece of fish on the plate, shook his head twice, and swallowed it smoothly, and then he used the same steps He quickly devoured almost the same amount of fish as his body, and then jumped gently onto the cupboard, followed the top of the cupboard to the skylight of the kitchen, and disappeared through the gap of the skylight.

It was not until the tabby kitten left that little John jumped out of the box excitedly.

"Uncle Evans! I saw it! That's a very beautiful kitten!"

Little John danced excitedly, described the kitten to Mr. Evans, and pleaded with Mr. Evans for the kitten: "It doesn't eat much anyway, Uncle Evans, don't hurt it! I can't, I can pay for it with my pocket money!"

Looking at the excited little John, Mr. Evans patted his head numbly, but he knew that, little John wanted a football in his heart, and he had saved money for it for a long time. During this time, he was careful To an extent comparable to that of the famous old miser at the tailor's shop on the corner.

What is the magic power of the cat that stole the fish, to make little John give up his favorite football.

but……

Is that cat eating a little too much?

According to Little John's gesture, it should be just a little milk cat, how could it be able to eat so much...

Probably because the gap in the box is too small, John couldn't see it clearly.

Mr. Evans shook his head and smiled, then patted little John's head and said, "You should keep your money for football. I can still afford this fish."

So Evans' small shop has another topic to talk about today, that is the mysterious silver-gray tabby kitten that only little John has ever seen.