The breeze stirs the manicured hedges on both sides of the road and the streets are quiet and spotless under the evening sky. Everything was clean, neat and well organized, even the garbage cans on the side of the road looked clean.
The only living things on the street were a teenage boy and an American short-haired cat with silver tiger spots. The boy's clothes were very inappropriate, he was wearing a strange white short-sleeved shirt and torn denim shorts, and his hair was long and black.
The teenager's clothes didn't fit him well, but they were clean, and his hair was long but not greasy. At that moment he was looking intently for something in the trash can. As he did so, words appeared in his mind.
[Animal Meat + 1]
[Poultry +1]
[Potatoes +1]
[Carrot with unknown liquid on the outside +1]
[Daily task: Recycle ingredients completed: Magic stone +10].
Teenager: "..."
He felt that there was something wrong with the carrot. But none of it had anything to do with him, he was just an unfeeling machine to complete the task.
Suddenly, however, the door to the house across from the trash can opened and out came a little girl with thick brown hair carrying a small bag of stuff.
The girl stood in the garden and called to him over the fence, "Hello."
"My name is not hello, it's Tom, Tom Yodel," replied the boy, Tom.
The little girl puffed out her cheeks, looking a little defiant, "All right, Tom. My mother has made some cupcakes, would you like to try them? By the way, my name is Hermione, Hermione Jane Granger." With that, she shoved the bag of stuff into the boy's hand.
At the sound of the girl's name, Tom froze, he felt something faintly stirring in his mind, but he couldn't remember, he felt as if the memories were blocked....
Hermione didn't notice anything unusual, as she kept talking.
"Besides, I don't think it's a good idea to wander every day, you could try the soup kitchen in town or the orphanage to see if there's any chance they'll take you in, or find an apprenticeship in a small store..." she looked at the face of the teenager, who was clearly no older than fourteen, hesitated, then said, "Yes, if you have a family, come back, your parents will be very worried..."
The girl actually are quite talkative, and Tom wondered if she would ever talk that much to a scavenger.
He smiled at Hermione, then picked a wilted white rose from a bush in the garden, the flower quickly came to life again in his hands, as if he had just picked it from the bush.
"Here, this is for you. Thank you," Tom handed it to her, giving it to the kind girl in front of him.
"Oh!" Hermione looked a little surprised.
At that moment, the tabby cat had quietly scurried to the two's feet, staring at them both silently, but no one cared: after all, what kind of bad thoughts could cats have?
Tom's eyes caught sight of the tabby, he bent down and picked up the big cat, which, as it all happened too quickly, had not reacted to the suddenness of the incident, and then Tom began stroking its head, "Isn't it beautiful? This cat, the truth is I've always wanted to have a cat, but I'm afraid he'll eat the pigeons in my neighborhood, alas..."
The tiger-spotted cat suddenly lashed out and jumped out of his arms.
"Ha, the cat is still afraid. I'm off, thanks for the cake!" Tom smiled at Hermione, then waved and left without waiting for her to say anything else.
Tom walked leisurely, and finally came under a bridge, on which lay a collection of junk: all of Tom's belongings.
There were traces of a campfire on the ground, and Tom used a stick to clean up some of the campfire,
After a few moments of rummaging, he pulled out a ball of black clay.
Tom broke the shell of the clay ball, peeled away the leaves inside and meat from an unidentifiable bird appeared before his eyes, with a strange smell in the air, not an aroma of course, just the smell of meat without any seasoning.
Tom pulled a jar out of the corner, sprinkled a handful of shiny white pellets over the bird meat and ate a bite of bird meat and a bite of cake.
Before long, a third of the poultry was gone. As he ate, Tom suddenly raised his head alertly and looked out, a pointed iron bar appearing silently in his hand.
A tall, stern-looking woman appeared in front of him, wearing a green robe and a peaked cap tilted to one side.
"Excuse me, what can I do for you?" asked Tom, without relaxing.
"I'm Professor Minerva McGonagall," the woman introduced herself.
"Professor?" repeated Tom, who looked wary, "And what are you doing here, am I in your way?"
"No, I work at a school called Hogwarts, can you go back to doing what you just did in front of Miss Granger's house?" said Professor McGonagall.
"Yes," And without further ado, Tom picked up a leaf and brought it back to life.
A look of surprise appeared in Professor McGonagall's eyes.
"Indeed... but you're not on the list..." professor McGonagall was lost in thought. As for Professor McGonagall, since she had found the boy, there was no reason to let him go, and even though he was not on the list of new students, she had decided to accept him, a small part of her power as Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts.
It wasn't about being a good person, Professor McGonagall could see that if Tom's magic levels were not controlled, he would die in a burst of magic or become an obscurus, or something more powerful. She shuddered as she recalled a memory from her youth.
As far as reason was concerned, he could not allow a mad obscurus to take up residence on the streets of London.
So, there was only one answer!
"I have come to ask you to come to the school where I work, namely Hogwarts, where you will be admitted. It is a school for students with special abilities." Here, he saw Tom's face change slightly and added, "This is going to sound strange, but Hogwarts is not an insane asylum, it's a school for magic."
Tom froze, with no expression on his face.
As if suddenly remembering something, Professor McGonagall turned to Tom and asked, "Oh, I forgot to ask, what's your name, is there anyone else in your family?"
"My name is Tom and I'm an orphan." Tom unconsciously replied.
Professor McGonagall: "..."
Why is this family background so familiar?