Sunlight filtered in through the gaps in the worn tan curtains, and the fresh morning air slightly washed away the dullness in the small attic.
Perhaps because it's so close to the sea, the humidity here is still as high as ever. Even in the attic, there are still moss climbing wantonly in the corners and expanding their territory, leaving patches of inexplicable vitality.
While men in London are still in bed hugging their wives - or lovers, that's not certain; in short, while those guys are still sleeping soundly on soft beds, the people of Torpoint are already busy. .
This is the morning in the port city. Not long after leaving last night's revelry, a new round of noise and busyness once again ushered in, as if people didn't need sleep.
Of course, all these vibrant scenes must have nothing to do with the residents of Taymor Lane.
Maca is a resident of this dark alley east of Torpoint. Although he was born in Plymouth, what does it matter
The poor live in the same way as the poor, and will naturally make their own choices. Living in this alley full of "ideals" and "future" is much more stable than in a place like Plymouth, where multiple forces converge.
Here, there is not much official sight, let alone the key forces of the chaebol behemoth, those are all in Plymouth! In this dark port city under the lights, there are only various undercurrent transactions sinking under the water.
Although Maka is young, she relies on her natural intelligence and extraordinary shrewdness to live a life of day and night here. Two hours ago, he had just returned from the colorful nightclub and was sleeping soundly on the slightly old bed! There are a few more cargo ships on the dock, and he doesn't care about them.
Just as he was lingering in the beautiful dreamland, there was a sudden sound of flapping wings outside the curtains, as if something had landed on the narrow window sill outside.
"Dong dong dong"
There seemed to be birds pecking at the window frame, and a dull sound came through the curtains.
Maka frowned in her sleep and was not woken up. He turned over and the quilt was pulled over his head to cover his head.
"Dong dong dong"
There were three more soft sounds, like knocking on the door, making people a little concerned about what was going on outside.
"Dong dong, bang -"
Three more pecks, probably because the last peck made it crooked or something, the old window glass immediately fulfilled its mission, and the glass shards fell to the ground in a splatter. If it hadn't been for the curtains, glass shards would have been splashed all over the bed by now.
The worn quilt was suddenly lifted, and Makami sat up with eyes wide open. He must not have woken up yet, but he was looking around with a confused look that made people laugh.
Suddenly, Maka, who was dazed, opened the curtains, but then she was stunned.
Outside the window, a light gray owl was standing there, its big eyes meeting Maka's. After a while, the owl actually tilted its head and hooted dryly, as if it was a little embarrassed about its mistake.
Maka blinked twice, not knowing what expression to make for a moment. Because he discovered that he actually saw the kind of agility that only humans can show in an owl.
"Is the IQ of an owl that high?" Maka found that she was a little doubtful about the trend of life.
"Gu—"
Just when Maka's head was full of questions, the owl hooted softly, then stretched out its left paw and placed a letter on the edge of the window sill.
The address was written in emerald green ink on the heavy parchment envelope. There was no stamp on the envelope. Macar was stunned for a moment, then reached out and picked it up, only to see a fiery red wax seal and a shield crest on it. A lion, an eagle, a badger and a snake each occupy a quarter of the space around the capital "H".
At the top of the coat of arms, there is a word that is strange yet familiar to Maka printed on it.
"Hogg, Watts?" Maka spelled out the word, her tone full of surprise and confusion.
He did not rush to open the envelope, but stared blankly at the coat of arms, his thoughts drifting further and further away. It took a while before he came back to his senses.
He silently left the envelope on the bed, curled up, and hugged his head tightly with his pale and thin arms. The dull black hair dangled messily between the fingers, seeming to be telling the dark and bitter past of these years.
"It's only now..." After a long time, Maka squeezed out a groan full of pain from her dry throat, "Uh-huh - this is simply ridiculous."
A gust of sea breeze suddenly blew in outside the window, making me feel extremely cold.
Yes, June in Torpoint is still a period that has nothing to do with heat.
…
The sun gradually rose a little higher, bringing a touch of warmth to this coastal town. Maka sat on the roof slope outside the window, leaning against the outer wall of the attic and looking at the sparkling Taima River in the distance. The rising sun rises from the junction of water and sky, coating the blue river with a layer of shining gold.
For Maka, who walks the streets late at night all year round, this is a rare and unique sight.
He stared blankly into the distance, clutching the unopened letter in his hand. This letter was so light, but Maka always felt the weight it weighed on her heart.
"laugh"
The envelope was gently torn open, and two pieces of fairly high-quality letter paper were neatly folded together, and Maka took them out together. He held the corner of the letter and shook it. The beautiful handwriting gave him a strange and unreal feeling.
—————
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
Principal: Albus Dumbledore (President of the International Federation of Magic, President of the Wizards Association, First Class Magician of the Order of Merlin)
Dear Mr. Macca McClain:
We are pleased to inform you that you have been admitted to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Attached is a list of required books and equipment. The semester is scheduled to begin on September 1st. We will wait for the owl to bring back your reply before July 31st.
Also, if the owl needs to stay at your place for a while, feed the little guy something to eat.
—————
Maka read the contents of the letter several times before turning to the next page, but before he could take a second look, he pursed his lips and stuffed the letter paper back into the envelope.
"Yes, yes, you still have to spend money." Maka murmured in a low voice, "Tuition is free, but miscellaneous fees are inevitable. I should have thought of it earlier!"
He sighed, climbed back into the attic with a gloomy expression on his face, took out a few gray papers from the small cabinet next to the bed, and threw them on the counter. Then he pulled out a dirty and dusty suitcase from under the bed, opened it with a "click" regardless of the rising dust, and pulled out a small long box from inside.
This is a pen. Although it is not a good brand, it is the only birthday gift left to him by his mother who has passed away long ago. It is also the most cherished treasure in his life, besides pounds.
"By the way, we need ink! Ink!"
He muttered as he prepared to write a reply. Not far away, the light gray owl was standing on the bed rail with its head tilted, watching Maka busy curiously.
Although I am a little rusty with the pen, I have not forgotten how to spell words. Maka's memory is very good, which can be seen from the fact that he usually memorizes a large number of fragmentary pound amounts without making mistakes, but the letters he writes are crooked, which is inevitable.
For this reason, he ended up wasting several pieces of paper.
Watching the owl flutter out the window and soon disappear around the corner, Maka felt a little calmer.
He really didn't expect that he, who was determined to indulge in the dark side of Britain in despair, would see a miraculous light. What he didn't expect was that this miraculous light was actually related to the Hogwarts that was almost buried in the depths of his memory.
"Hogwarts, ha!" Maka chewed the word again, revealing a pure smile from the heart that had been buried with her dead mother under the old cemetery in Plymouth.
Just when Maka was thinking about her not-so-distant future, far away at No. 4 Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey, the boy who survived had just been in the cupboard under the stairs. wake up. What is waiting for him will be a chaotic life disrupted by the "unexpected visitor".
…
More than two months may have been an ordinary life journey for Maka in the past. But now, everything has become completely different.
Maca said goodbye to the small attic that accompanied him through three dark years, and also said goodbye to Uncle Angel, the bar owner who gave him his first job. He sold everything he could to the dealers he frequented on the black market, and then took the ferry to Plymouth with all the pounds he had earned so far and his renewed expectations.
Only after arriving in Plymouth could he catch the train to London and embark on his new journey of life.
"Let's go see mother first!" Maka murmured as she leaned on the railing at the edge of the ferry deck, looking across the Taima River.
The time spent rippling on the Taima River was not too long, and the distance between the two banks of the river was actually not that far. Not long after, Maka was standing among the slightly messy tombs.
At that time, Maka, who was only 9 years old, spent the last money left by his father to build a tombstone for his mother, which was considered a luxury for him at the time. Not for anything else, just because it was the first time he recognized in his heart this woman who was always busy for money.
"...Mother" Maka gently stroked the tombstone he had cleaned. Even though it was already noon, it was still surprisingly cold. "This seems to be the second time I call you 'Mother'."
He paused and then continued: "To be honest, I still can't call you that naturally. I don't know if I should call you that, or I don't know if I have the qualifications. But, No matter what, you are my mother now. My... mother."
"Ahem, I know, this still sounds very awkward, but at least I called, so you just have to listen..."
It seemed that it was because of the atmosphere, or the emotion and longing she had felt over the past three years, that Maka kept talking intermittently for a long time. It wasn't until it was almost dusk that he stood up and patted his pants. He sighed and planned to find a cheaper hotel to stay overnight, and then go to the city center to take the train to London tomorrow.
The moment he turned back, a light golden color flashed across his field of vision. Under the reflection of the setting sun, it exudes a unique brilliance...