Emily carefully picked up the unconscious owl from the floor, its feathers still damp with night dew and shimmering like satin in the cozy, warm light of the hallway. She placed the bird gently on a cushioned coffee table and hurried off to fetch a dish of nuts and golden-dried fish, arranging them invitingly close by.
She guided her son onto the sofa, her fingertips unconsciously stroking the rough wax seal of the letter resting on her knee. The peculiar texture of the parchment beneath her touch reminded her that this was no illusion—this was real, and it was happening right now.
Kevin's pupils remained slightly dilated with excitement. He found himself repeatedly scratching his palm with his fingernail—a habit he'd developed in the orphanage in his previous life. Whenever he'd gotten his hands on old Harry Potter books from the recycling station, he'd always been unable to control himself in just this way. Those dog-eared chapters had been the brightest stars in his otherwise meager childhood, and now, the brick walls of Diagon Alley were building up into a real shape in his mind, one brick at a time.
"Emily!" David's sudden entry startled the young man lost in thought. His father's coat still carried the salty tang of the sea breeze. "Lily only said an owl delivered a letter? What on earth—"
"You'll know once you read this, David," Emily interrupted, her voice steady but edged with wonder.
The parchment rustled softly as it was passed from hand to hand. Emily suddenly pressed Kevin's trembling wrist, her eyes searching his face. "You know something, don't you? Ever since that high fever when you were five…" She didn't finish the rest of the sentence, but Kevin remembered that stormy night vividly. The bizarre sight of raindrops suspended in front of the window—it turned out that the so-called awakening of superpowers had been the first sign of his magic awakening. He should have connected the dots much sooner.
"This is real; it's not a prank," Kevin said, suddenly raising his hand. The porcelain plate on the coffee table floated up three inches into the air. Amid Lily's gasp, a few nuts rolled off the edge and bounced away across the oak floor.
"After that fever when I was five, I found that my memory improved, and I could make some things float."
"Kevin, Kevin, can you make me float?" Lily's face was filled with undisguised excitement and curiosity, her eyes wide and sparkling.
"I can make a pencil case tap dance on a desk," the Young Wizard added with a wry smile, "but to make a living creature float? I'm afraid I'll have to wait until I get into Hogwarts…" His voice was drowned out by his sister's disappointed sigh.
David's gaze shifted between his son's excited face and the incredible letter. The engineer's rational mind clashed intensely with the surreal scene before him.
"Hogwarts…" He repeated the unfamiliar word in a low voice, his fingers unconsciously tapping the oak dining table, making a dull, rhythmic thudding sound.
"So, kevin, have you really decided to go to this Hogwarts? Do you know what this means?" David finally spoke, his voice low and gentle.
"It means you'll be facing a completely unfamiliar world alone. Without us, without Lily, without what you're familiar with…"
"I know," Kevin interrupted, but a confident smile played at the corners of his lips. "But you taught me that a true explorer never shrinks back from the unknown. Besides…" His gaze fell on the pale yellow envelope. "I always feel like this is where I truly belong."
David exchanged a look with his wife. Their son, who always picked up seashells alone during low tide, now had a flame burning in his eyes that they had never seen before. "We will support you," his father finally said, his fingers unconsciously tracing the gilded school emblem on the letter, "but at least we should wait for this Mr. Messenger—"
"Hoo!" The owl suddenly ruffled its feathers, its amber eyes vigilantly scanning the humans gathered around. As Emily pushed the food plate closer, it tilted its head and scrutinized the offering for a full ten seconds before delicately pecking at a small dried fish.
Kevin crouched down, meeting the gaze of the brown-gray owl. Sunlight streamed through the window, illuminating the owl's feathers with varying shades of brown. He carefully held up the envelope and softly asked, "Can you still deliver letters?" At the same time, he gestured back and forth between the envelope and the owl with his index finger.
The owl tilted its head, its amber eyes blinking. It flapped its good left wing, making two short "hoo-hoo" sounds, and its neck flexibly turned 180 degrees, as if considering the human's intention.
"Does it even understand?" Lily crouched beside Kevin, resting her chin on her hands, curiously observing the owl's every move. "I saw in a nature documentary that owls can turn their heads 270 degrees, but can they nod?"
Just then, the owl suddenly made a movement that surprised both siblings. It first tilted its head to one side, then to the other, and finally bobbed it up and down, looking exactly like a scholar pondering his words. This gesture was so human-like that Kevin almost burst out laughing.
Just as Kevin was trying to gesture to ask about the reply method, the doorbell rang abruptly.
"No one should be coming at this hour," David frowned at the nautical clock above the fireplace and hesitantly walked towards the door.
The moment the door opened, the woman standing on the doorstep made David's breath catch. She wore a dark green robe adorned with star-like silver threads, her hair meticulously pinned up, and her sharp gaze projected through square spectacles. Most unsettlingly, she was enveloped in an aura that made the sunlight in the doorway seem to thicken.
"Mr. Hawthorne?" The Witch's voice was like a frozen winter lake, clear and crisp. The silver badge on her chest suddenly rotated, revealing the "H" school emblem. "I am Minerva McGonagall, Professor of Transfiguration Class at Hogwarts."
The sound of a teacup overturning came from the living room. Lily darted out from under David's arm, her hair still clinging to owl down: "Professor! Can you also make things float? Just like Kevin."
"Lily!" Emily hastily pulled her daughter back to her side.
"It seems you have already witnessed Mr. Hawthorne's Magic outburst. This is a natural phenomenon that occurs when a Young Wizard cannot control his Magic."
"Usually it manifests as objects floating inexplicably," McGonagall continued, drawing an elegant arc in the air with her wand, "or accidental Magic triggered by strong emotions." Her gaze swept over everyone, landing on Kevin, who stood quietly by the window. The sunlight made the envelope in the Young Wizard's hand translucent, revealing the faint shimmer of golden threads hidden within the parchment fibers.
"Good afternoon, Mr. Hawthorne." Professor McGonagall's Scottish accent made the end of his surname lilt slightly, "It seems our messenger encountered some trouble." Her gaze swept over the injured bird pecking at nuts.
Kevin's Adam's apple bobbed. The Witch before him was more vivid than he remembered, ancient wisdom settled in the fine lines around her eyes. This wasn't a character from a movie, but real, breathing Magic.
"Magic outburst?" Emily suddenly broke the silence as she handed over the coffee, "But Kevin can control this ability." The white porcelain cup clinked against the silver spoon, emitting a crisp chime.
Professor McGonagall raised an eyebrow, a gesture that made her look like an alert owl: "Self-controlled? That is surprising"
Kevin lightly raised a finger, and the entire tea tray floated steadily upwards, but then suddenly tilted as it turned, sending nuts pelting the owl's head like miniature cannonballs. The injured bird angrily picked up a small dried fish and slapped Kevin's forehead with its tail feathers.
"Extraordinary control," she murmured, her voice tinged with surprise, "but the precision still needs practice. It's alright, Hogwarts will help you perfect these abilities."
With a flick of her wand, the knitted cushion on the sofa suddenly sprouted a fluffy tail. The cushion, now a tabby cat, yawned, revealing pink gums made of yarn.
"Oh my God!" David's exclamation mingled with Lily's scream. As the little girl tried to hug the cat, the Transfigured creature's yarn exploded, and it bared knitted fangs at her.
Kevin took a deep breath, his fingers gently caressing the edge of the parchment list. "Professor McGonagall," he tried to keep his voice calm, though his heart was still pounding, "one last question, how do I get to Hogwarts? And where do I buy these items?"
Professor McGonagall's tense shoulders seemed to relax slightly, and a faint, almost imperceptible smile appeared at the corner of her mouth. "I'm glad you've accepted all of this so quickly," she said, her voice unusually gentle, "You are the most adaptable Muggle family I've encountered in years."
She took a small leather pouch from the inner pocket of her robes and poured out a few Galleons onto the coffee table. The gold coins shimmered with a warm glow in the sunlight, and the numbers and symbols engraved on them made Lily instinctively reach out to touch them.
"Gringotts, our Wizard bank, provides currency exchange services for new students." Professor McGonagall explained, "There's an annual limit of 200 Galleons, and the exchange rate is 5 pounds to 1 Galleon."
"You can do some preparations first. I will visit again at this time tomorrow, and then I will take you to Diagon Alley to purchase the items you need."
"Okay, thank you, Professor."
"Then I'll see you tomorrow, Mr. Hawthorne." She elegantly waved her wand, and the tabby cat let out a contented purr, transforming back into a cushion.
As Professor McGonagall's figure disappeared with a pop of Apparition at the door, Lily suddenly shrieked. She bounced up and down excitedly, and with each leap, the curtains in the living room swayed without a breeze, and papers on the table fluttered like butterflies.
"Lily!" Emily exclaimed, but her voice was quickly drowned out by her daughter's laughter. David watched the scene thoughtfully, reaching out to catch a falling shopping list.
"It seems our family has more than one child with Magic talent," he said softly, exchanging a complex look with his wife.
Emily rubbed her temples: "David, tomorrow you go with Kevin to that Diagon Alley, bring more cash." She turned to Lily, "As for our sailing plan…"
"It must be postponed!" Lily blurted out, her eyes shining like stars, "I want to see my brother buy a Wand!"
Kevin quietly exited the living room. The stairs creaked familiarly under his feet, but now even that ordinary sound seemed extraordinary. He closed his bedroom door, leaned back in his chair, and let the sea breeze from the window caress his flushed cheeks.
Less than an hour ago, he had been just a boy planning a weekend sailing trip. Now, he held the key to the Magic world in his hand. The address on the envelope suddenly caught his attention: [17 Crescent Street, Lenis District, Devon].
"Devon…" he murmured, memories flooding back.
When he was eight, in front of the "Mayflower Steps" at Plymouth Harbor, the figures of the silver-haired old couple reappeared before his eyes. The magical glow flowing around them, the mysterious Runes parchment, and the note warning him not to gaze into the abyss…
Devon, yes, that's right, it was Devon!
Devon, Harry Potter, the old couple, Runes. That old couple was very likely Nicolas Flamel and his wife.
The desk drawer was yanked open, and the Runes parchment, which he had been unable to decipher for eight years, now seeped with a faint glow, the runes swimming like tadpoles on the paper. At some point, a faded inscription had appeared on it:
[To the heir who glimpses the Eye of Truth:
…
— N.F. & P.F.]
Although the content in the middle was still incomprehensible, Kevin's conjecture was undoubtedly confirmed; if he remembered correctly, Nicolas Flamel's wife was Perenelle, and N.F. & P.F. should represent them.
Kevin decided that tomorrow he must find more books on Ancient Runes and Alchemy in Diagon Alley. Perhaps, just perhaps, he could unlock the secret of that parchment…
Outside the window, an unfamiliar raven swept across the moonlit sea, a peculiar symbol carved on its leg band: ∞