Original on www.fanfiction.net It was an ordinary day. The air was cold and the numerous clouds resembled oatmeal in the icy gray sky. It was supposed to snow, but the humidity was too low. Tom could almost feel the drought as he breathed sharply through his mouth, and it was a very unpleasant feeling. He pulled another light sweater over himself to stop the trembling that was beating him from head to toe. His breath turned into steam, mixing with the London fog. An hour has passed since the last lessons ended, and the orphanages of the orphanage poured out into the street to release all the pent-up energy...© 2002–2004. Folk translation of Harry Potter. Official Mirror