[Hunter] Private Meteor Street High School

The boy who survived being robbed lost his school uniform and the sweater Mrs. Weasley had given him, and was shivering in the cold in just a pair of boxer shorts.The shameless and obscene little robber triumphantly led his subordinates to run away.

Harry felt that every pore in his body was clamoring. He crossed his arms miserably for warmth, and tremblingly retrieved the holly wand that had been thrown in the trash in disgust.

Randomly rubbing the dirty water from his stick on his shorts, Harry rubbed his stiff wrists and tried a basic spell: "Wingadim Leviosa."

Pronunciation and gestures are very precise.

And this little wooden stick didn't react at all, it looked like a lifeless and ordinary dead branch.

Harry probably said it right and loud: "Winga-Dimlev-Osa."

Still to no avail.

Clenching the wand tightly with trembling fingers, Harry stared at it in disbelief as if seeing it for the first time, and finally threw it far away angrily.

Nothing could be worse than this.He even started to miss Snape's Potions class.

After sitting lost in thought for a while, Harry retrieved his wand again.

Well, at least I retain the right to exercise my pants.Although it was worn out by my cousin, it was fat and big, and it was printed with a little yellow duck pattern.But he was lucky not to entertain the public.

Reaching out to touch the inner pocket of the boxer pants, the damned stone was still inside, and it was not so cold under the body temperature.

He clearly remembers how wretchedly the self in the magic mirror reached into his crotch, took out the broken stone and put it back--damn it's a good thing he was wearing jeans with elastic bands instead of the dean who needed to untie his belt trousers, otherwise he didn't think he wouldn't have slammed his head against the wall to kill him - although he was sure Voldemort couldn't see the embarrassing scene in the mirror.

It is said that this stone, which looks no different from the gemstone in the Gryffindor hourglass, can turn stone into gold, but unfortunately he doesn't know how to use it at all.Well, it can be sold if necessary, and it should be worth a lot of money.

Harry thought about it.The principal will definitely not be angry... Probably not.

Anyway, he doesn't know why he has no magic power now, it's like—what's that word, Neville once said, ah, yes—it's no different from a squib, and there are no school rules or rules.

Although he knew that it was better to stay where he was and wait for the professors to rescue him, Harry still decided to follow the words of the leader of the gang of unscrupulous teenagers just now, and go to the office in District [-]—it is said that he can get a uniform?

Harry sneezed and tucked his wand into the waistband of his trousers, sniffling.

Harry followed the orange-haired robber's words, and actually found the big postal green container not far away.

This place is simply a large-scale garbage treatment plant, with all kinds of domestic garbage, it is really unbearable.Harry thought Little Whinging was a paradise compared to this.

Aunt Petunia would faint if she saw him dressed like this.Harry thought irresponsibly.

Along the way, I ran into a few children who were wearing ragged jumpers that couldn't be seen in the original color. They didn't express any objection when they saw Harry wandering around in only a pair of shorts, and they rummaged through the trash as usual .

After pacing back and forth a few steps, Harry approached nervously.

The inside of the container looked much more spacious than the outside. A white-haired old man was sitting drowsily behind a large desk, and a tall, burly guy dressed like an astronaut stood in the corner.

Harry coughed and knocked on the half-rolled shutter door that appeared incongruously on the container: "Um, I'm new here."

The old man who looked like he was about to fall apart slowly stood up, put his hands on the table and looked Harry up and down with strange eyes for a full 10 minutes, until Harry almost wanted to run away before he nodded in satisfaction sit back.

The Mr. Astronaut in the corner walked into the partition with his legs shaking like chaff, took out a tattered paper bag and put it on the table, trembling back to the original place trembling.

"Is he all right?" Harry couldn't help asking after taking the paper bag, and regretted it as soon as he said it.

Let your mouth fast!Do you owe it?

"Are you literate?" the old man said in a non-questioning answer.

"Literacy." The boy who survived and was regarded as illiterate replied somewhat discouraged.

The old man took out a booklet and handed it to Harry, who was flattered to take it and opened it, then froze.

"...I'm sorry this kind of writing is too esoteric. My primary school diploma is illiterate and I can't understand it. Please give me the English version." The boy who survived and became illiterate said dejectedly.

"Oh. Then come here every night to attend the literacy class." The old man said.Obviously ignored his words...obviously didn't believe his words!

Harry felt despised.

I really can read!

Moving away from the old man and his container, Harry unwrapped the tattered paper bag he had nearly left on the table.

Inside is a dirty sweater, very similar to the ones worn by the aborigines - but it is a little cleaner than the matching ones, but it doesn't look very new.

There are sporadic holes on the sleeves, and there are reddish-brown spots like blood splashed on the front.

What blood, it's pen ink.

It's the red pen ink for batch homework, draw the red ink of big duck eggs on your homework.

It must have been recovered from an elementary school teacher, that big-ass female teacher with a mole on her face who loves to touch your little face and hold your little hand.

Harry put on the clothes, covering his white, soft chest with no muscle at all.

Well, I don't have a big pool of blood on my chest, just a big pool of red ink.

In addition to the red pen ink stain (are you really hypnotized by yourself ==+) a second-hand jumper, there is also a weird and rough onesie in the bag. Harry compares it to it and feels stupid .So she squatted on the ground with her bare and dyed black feet and pondered for a while, and finally decided to wrap it around her waist.

Now all his possessions are equipped on him.

Harry felt a little dispirited that he looked no different from the local kids rolling around in the rubbish.

Even Snape, who hangs a picture of Harry on the office wall as a dart board every day, would never recognize him.

Pulling the straw-like hair, brushing off a layer of dust.Then he looked at his own face with the broken glass, it was not dirty, and his face was very ugly, he was like a stray dog.

Maybe it was just a dream now... or maybe his wizarding life was a dream, but now he woke up.

Harry even wondered if the savior Potter who had occupied the front page of the Daily Prophet for a long time was the same person as the slovenly man hopping around on the rubbish dump in only a rag.

Les Miserables.

Thousands of grass and mud horses galloped past Harry's heart.

From his trouser pocket, he took out the broken stone that had caused him such a situation.next door to Mary.No more business in this life.

If he hadn't been too hot-headed to rush to pretend to be a hero, maybe he would be sitting in the common room and enjoying the tea time after the exam with Hermione Ron.

When it comes to exams, it's even more irritating. If he had met Quirrell a few days earlier, he could have escaped the final exam anyway. It would be a good deal no matter what.

This is a good time, I finally passed the exam after working so hard, and before I had time to catch my breath, I came here to fix this shitty place for meddling in my own business.

Think about Hogwarts, where you go to class every day with enough food and clothing, and Malfoy can bully you if you're fine—it's a paradise on earth!

Harry regretfully bit the small handkerchief in his mouth and bit it.

It was Ron's idea.Ron, you are a disaster.Hate you!Never play with you again!

And the literacy class, whether to go or not, it would be embarrassing for such an older person to go to the literacy class, and it's not a big deal if you don't go.

But it's strange to say, since they are all in English, why do they turn into a bunch of circles and dots on the paper?

The savior boy is in a tangle.

After thinking back and forth, Harry decided to pay attention.

Who cares, can he make a small literacy class suffocate?Knowing how to read is one's own business, and whether you need it in the future is another matter. If you really can't go back, it would be embarrassing to be blind everywhere you go.