Diagon Alley

Anthony lay on the bed in the Leaky Cauldron, playing with the skeleton cat's paws.

In order to repair his pet, he spent half a day in the bar kitchen, cooking up a long table of boneless chicken wings, boneless chicken legs, boneless chicken soup, and boneless fried chicken.

Five chickens paid with their lives, and Anthony paid money for the five chickens. Considering he was rehabilitating a cat that didn't need to eat, it was a pretty good deal.

The boss knocked on his door: "Mr. Anthony, A Professor from Hogwarts is here."

The owner of the Leaky Cauldron is called Tom, a kind bald old man. He and his bar feel exactly the same: somewhat dark and rundown, but oddly quite warm... and you'd never know how much of a collection he has.

He doesn't care where Anthony comes from and sneers at Anthony's Azkaban past, and even bought Anthony a glass of Firewhiskey after hearing that the charge was a breach of the Statute of Secrecy.

Thanks to his smooth and diplomatic attitude, Anthony quickly settled down in the Leaky Cauldron and casually decided to make Tom as acting landlord. He can't go home because, according to the Ministry of Magic, he is not allowed to "use any magic in the Muggle community," and his cat is a moving ball of magic.

"Coming!" Anthony shouted, pushing the cat off his chest. The skeleton cat jumped onto the pillow in dissatisfaction and shook himself.

Anthony rushed into the bathroom, washed his face quickly, and straightened his clothes in the mirror.

"I would suggest that you change into something more sensible, young man," said the mirror sharply. "What are you wearing? A tablecloth?"

"Thanks for the advice, it's not helpful," Anthony muttered, bringing the skeleton cat in to confront the mirror. The cat sat unhappily in the sink, its tail slapping the tiles.

"I won't fix it if you break your tail off yourself," Anthony warned. "Good cat, be quiet. If everything goes well, I will have enough money to buy white wine again."

The cat lay down and ignored him.

When he opened the door, he happened to see Professor Burbage and Tom walking upstairs, laughing and talking.

Professor Burbage is a thin, middle-aged witch. She was pale and had very shallow dimples when she smiled.

She nodded as soon as she saw Anthony: "Ah, I guess you are my future successor. You do look very Muggle."

'That's because I was a muggle by birth', Anthony thought.

Thanks to Azkaban, it doesn't even have prison uniforms, so now Anthony still wears the plaid shirt and trousers, and he can walk into a convenience store at any time and apply for a cashier job again.

He has resigned from Whaley Supermarket. When Dumbledore introduced him to Professor McGonagall, the serious vice-principal frowned and looked at him several times. After whispering to Dumbledore for a while, he pointed out a very obvious problem: a person cannot work two full-time jobs at the same time.

After enjoying afternoon tea, he and Dumbledore were sent away by Professor McGonagall to resign from his job as cashier.

"You decided to hire him, Headmaster." Professor McGonagall said, "Start well and end well."

The HR department was furious at his sudden resignation, but Dumbledore somehow managed to convince him. When they left, everyone seemed to agree that employees really needed no application for leave.

Today, Anthony has been terminated from all employment relationships and has become a glorious vagrant. Dumbledore advanced him some money for the room fee at the Leaky Cauldron - the hotel on Charing Cross Street actually told him seriously that they would not accept pounds.

Professor Burbage is here to deliver the contract today. She also wanted to take a look at her colleague, especially after hearing that he had been living in the Muggle world and needed to be accompanied into Diagon Alley, she became even more curious about this possible successor.

"This is the contract, the same for all professors. The signature line is at the end." She closed the door very naturally, took out the contract and quill from her handbag, and took out a letter, "And this, It's a private document."

Anthony followed her instructions and wrote "I, Anthony, acknowledge receipt of the sealed Hogwarts encrypted letter" next to the receiving address. The envelope was slowly opened and two long pieces of parchment were spit out.

The parchment states the distribution time and application methods of his teaching allowance, research funds, and various subsidies. After Anthony signed and confirmed, he kept one copy for himself and sent the other copy to the envelope.

The envelope couldn't wait to swallow the document, chewed twice as if aftertaste, and lay back quietly on the table.

The first clause of the contract is very short: "Both Party A and Party B promise not to harm each other during their term."

"It's so broad," he said. "There must be too many loopholes."

Professor Burbage shook his head seriously: "Don't underestimate the promise of magic witness, it flows in our lives."

This sounds very serious indeed. Anthony became serious and read the other parts of the contract carefully. Most of them are quite formatted, nothing more than the rights and duties of a Hogwarts professor.

He signed in the designated place, wiped the tip of his quill, and prepared to return it to Professor Burbage. The parchment of the contract suddenly flew up from the table, hung in mid-air, and was burned into powder by a cluster of golden flames. With a clang, a brass key fell out of the ashes.

Under the encouraging sight of Professor Burbage, Anthony picked it up blankly. His signature was engraved on the front of the key, and a coat of arms was branded on the back. The "H" floating faintly in the center was surrounded by four animals.

"Welcome to Hogwarts, Professor Anthony." Professor Burbage said. "You have an office and a private room in the castle. Well, that will happen later. Let's go to Diagon Alley."

…

"Count three blocks upward and two blocks horizontally." Professor Burbage demonstrated. "Just tap it with your wand, and the most core street of the British wizarding world will open to you."

Anthony mused: "First, I need a magic wand."

"You do need it, the principal told me." Professor Burbage said happily, "But before that, you'd better go to Gringotts to exchange for some wizard currency. Then we go to buy clothes. You can't dress like this. If you walk into Ollivander's wand store, no, everyone will stare at you. After buying clothes, we will go buy a wand... Oh! There are also teaching materials! Of course, we have to go to the bookstore!"

Anthony discovered that she had an uncanny ability to plan their itinerary in an extremely affectionate but unquestioning way.

He was secretly curious as to what Dumbledore had told Professor Burbage.

(Your new colleague doesn't have a wand, take him to buy one when you give him the contract. Oh, don't worry, he is indeed a wizard, Azkaban can prove it. Ah yes, a dark wizard, but he loved Muggles.)

"Okay," he said resignedly.

Professor Burbage looked quite satisfied.

They went to Gringotts. When the goblins heard that Anthony had no account, they seemed to be greatly offended and kept emphasizing to him the importance of saving. Anthony had to change some more currency and deposited one Sickle - the minimum deposit required to open a vault - to Gringotts.

"You will find it necessary to have a private vault," said the goblin who was handling his business as they left.

Anthony swore he heard the goblin curse under his breath as he walked out of Gringotts, complaining that poor people wouldn't save more.

Professor Burbage said without surprise: "You will get used to it, Professor Anthony. On the bright side, they will guard your Sickles with every drop of blood."

They met several strange wizards in Madam Malkin's clothing store. They seemed to have the same poor eyesight as the head of the Ministry of Magic, who mistook people for statues. Only this time Professor Burbage also turned into a statue.

"Pure-bloods." Professor Burbage snorted and proudly pulled Anthony to stand in line behind them. "Stand up straight and let them see Muggle clothes."

Anthony watched the people in front of him turn sideways, glanced at them with disgust, and turned around. 

"Who is that?" Anthony asked in a low voice.

"I don't know." Professor Burbage said nonchalantly, "A pure-blood who calls himself a noble and hates Muggles."

"Uh, noble?" Anthony said, "Just to confirm, is there a special queen in the wizarding world... Your Majesty the witch?"

Professor Burbage burst out into a fit of gleeful laughter.

"No, of course not!" she said, "They are not nobles. If you really want to talk about it, I think Headless Nick is a more substantial title."

Anthony concluded: "An arrogant common wizard."

Professor Burbage nodded with a smile: "That's right. I am more and more convinced of the principal's choice. You will be a very good Muggle Studies professor."

The team moved forward slowly. When it was their turn, Anthony was already a little tired.

According to his request ("Just the most basic ones."), Madam Malkin recommended a set of decent black wizard robes and matching shoes. Anthony glanced briefly at this classic model, which has been the best-selling model for sixteen consecutive years, and nodded casually before settling on it.

He couldn't distinguish so many, but half of the clothing store was full of black robes. There are pockets, dark patterns, cufflinks, knee-length, ankle-length, floor-length...all kinds of black robes. Anthony looked down at his blue plaid shirt, and then at the robes around him.

Seriously, who is more like a dark wizard?

He resisted slapping away the measuring tape that automatically measured the size - he always thought it was a long fly - and then took the clothes from Mrs. Malkin and changed them in the fitting room.

It fits so well. Madam Malkin's workmanship has always been the best!" Professor Burbage said, "Now, young man, let's go get you a wand."