"So, have any unusual occurrences ever happened around Mr. Black?" Professor McGonagall asked directly, getting straight to the point.
"Unusual occurrences?" Harold didn't react for a moment.
"Yes," Professor McGonagall nodded. "For instance, objects moving suddenly, milk spilling for no reason. Anything out of the ordinary will do."
Harold frowned. He glanced at Alan standing beside him; the boy had his eyelids lowered obediently, looking like someone who wouldn't hurt a fly.
"If I had to mention something unusual," Harold thought for a while and said, "Mr. Black is a very bright child; he never needs anyone to worry about his studies. In the entrance exams that just passed, he was the top student in this entire area."
Although he usually didn't pay much attention to the affairs of the children's home, he had heard about this news. After all, several high-quality schools had already contacted him, hoping to enroll the child. It was just that he had always left these matters to the caregivers to handle. To be honest, he didn't care much about the children's home itself, unless the government stopped giving him funding. No, stopped giving funding to his home.
"Ah, right," Harold suddenly remembered something. "This child has a record of being adopted twice before."
Professor McGonagall leaned forward slightly. "If it's convenient, could you tell me the specific circumstances?"
Since there were two records of adoption, why was the child still here? This was a major question. Was it abuse, or some other reason?
Harold rubbed the back of his bald head awkwardly. "That's a bit of a tough one," he cleared his throat embarrassedly. "I don't remember the exact details very clearly. You know, it's been several years since then."
Hearing this, Alan unconsciously curled his lip.
Professor McGonagall keenly caught this small movement and turned her gaze toward him gently.
"Do you remember anything, Mr. Black?" she asked softly. "Of course, if you're unwilling to say, that's fine. It won't affect your enrollment."
Alan looked up and met Professor McGonagall's kind eyes. Fine, it wasn't exactly something that had to be hidden.
He explained concisely, "It's no big deal. When those two families adopted me, the corpses of various stray animals would always mysteriously appear in their yards. The first adoptive mother was so scared she fell ill, and the second adoptive father thought I was a child who brought bad luck. They both sent me back very quickly."
Alan's tone was very casual. "Thinking about it now, that should have been the effect of magic."
Regarding this, he still felt a bit sorry even now. After all, this was likely a problem he had caused. Those two kind families had suffered a disaster for no reason. Right, back then, what appeared in the second family that adopted him wasn't just stray animal corpses, but also the corpses of two homeless men. He heard that the house they lived in at the city center even dropped in price because of it. Quite realistic. Alan silently said sorry again in his heart.
Of course, the deaths of those stray animals and homeless men weren't caused by him. The autopsy reports for those two homeless men at the time also proved they had frozen to death. He had probably just used magic to gather those corpses together.
After listening to Alan's description, Professor McGonagall pondered for a moment.
"Although the manifestation is a bit unusual," she said, "this was likely caused by a magical outburst. When young wizards experience intense emotional fluctuations or have a strong desire, their magic can leak out uncontrollably, causing all sorts of strange things to happen."
Magical outburst. Alan nodded. Now everything could be explained. He had always thought he was just unlucky and that those corpses just happened to appear around him. Now it seemed those corpses gathered because of his strong desire.
Wait, that didn't seem right either. Why would he want to gather those corpses for no reason? He wasn't some kind of pervert.
Seeing Alan's complex expression, Professor McGonagall comforted him, "Don't worry, Mr. Black. Magical outbursts basically stop occurring by the time you reach your age. Once you get to Hogwarts, you will learn how to master your own magic. At that time, these uncontrollable phenomena will naturally disappear."
Alan nodded thoughtfully. "I understand, Professor."
"Then, do you have any other questions?" Professor McGonagall inquired.
Alan hesitated for a moment, a flash of curiosity in his eyes. "Professor, can you perform a spell for me to see now?"
Professor McGonagall raised her eyebrows with slight surprise, then showed a knowing smile. Indeed, she hadn't shown Alan any magic up until now. On the contrary, Alan believing in the existence of magic so readily was what seemed more unusual.
"That's perfect. Next, I will take you to Diagon Alley to buy some items needed for school. Did you bring your equipment list? It's attached to the back of your admission letter," Professor McGonagall said.
"I brought it."
Alan nodded and took a somewhat crumpled piece of parchment from his pocket. There were quite a few things on the list, including several items he didn't understand. For example, a telescope. No matter how he thought about it, that thing didn't seem to have anything to do with magic.
"Then we can set off immediately," Professor McGonagall smiled and turned to look at Harold, who was standing there like a wooden post. "I will be taking Mr. Black away for a while and will return by about one in the afternoon. Sorry for the trouble, Mr. Green."
Harold nodded hurriedly. "Of course, of course, no problem at all."
Having received confirmation, Professor McGonagall turned to Alan and elegantly extended her right arm. "Please hold onto my arm, Mr. Black. The journey in a moment might make you feel a bit uncomfortable. The first apparition is always like that. If you're nervous, you can take a few deep breaths first."
Alan followed her instructions and held onto the professor's left arm. Professor McGonagall pulled out her wand with her free right hand.
"Apparate!"
As the spell was cast, the space around the two began to twist and distort. Alan felt as if a pair of invisible giant hands were squeezing his internal organs tight and then letting go. Immediately after, a blur of light and shadow flashed before his eyes. When he felt his feet hit the ground again, he found himself in a narrow alleyway.
"How do you feel?" Professor McGonagall patted Alan on the back kindly.
Alan was stunned for a moment. Only after a while did he find his voice. "A bit nauseous."
This was magic. For an ordinary person, teleporting from one location to another so abruptly was simply a fantasy. Yet magic could do it easily, even if his stomach was currently in turmoil. Alan couldn't help but start looking around. He was a bit afraid that all of this was his hallucination. This was a miracle that human technology could not achieve. How could someone who had witnessed a miracle with their own eyes allow themselves to return to that mediocre world? If someone told him right now that this was all fake, he would probably shut himself down on the spot.
Meanwhile, in the children's home's drawing room, Harold watched the two people who had suddenly disappeared, slumped onto the sofa, and stared blankly at the ceiling. His thoughts were a bit chaotic. Everything that happened today was a bit too stimulating for him. The wizard who suddenly came to visit, the child about to attend a magic school, the magic that vanished in an instant, and that contract that forbade revealing the existence of magic, which was currently lying heavily in his suit's inner pocket.
Damn it, what kind of world was he living in?