Summer vacation always flies by, and before you know it, it's late August, with Hogwarts just around the corner.
It would be a lie to say Albert wasn't excited about attending Hogwarts, even though he'd rather stay home and continue lazing around for a while longer.
But time waits for no one.
When it comes to magic, blindly groping around on your own is never a good idea. It's like a blind person tapping their way forward with a cane—who knows what lies ahead?
Albert still only had a rudimentary understanding of magic, even after reading all his textbooks.
He continued to exchange letters with Truman every three days.
This Hufflepuff student's grades were only average, and Albert had already drained him of his limited knowledge in just a few days.
Truman believed Albert might be sorted into Ravenclaw, given his intense interest in magical knowledge, a prospect Truman found regrettable.
Albert didn't care much about which house he'd be assigned to, as long as it wasn't Slytherin, which wasn't exactly welcoming to Muggle-born wizards. Besides, given his Muggle-born status, Albert doubted he'd even be considered for Slytherin.
"Thanks for your hard work. Get some rest," Albert said, stroking the owl's head as he placed some food in its cage.
Albert was reasonably satisfied with the owl. At least, after his repeated requests, Shera had stopped bringing back prey.
He was sure Daisy wouldn't appreciate finding dead mice while cleaning the house.
Shera hooted wearily, entered her cage to eat, and settled down for a good rest, completely ignoring Tom's bared teeth beside her.
"Stop teasing Tom," Albert said, picking up the short-haired cat and heading downstairs for breakfast.
Herb was home today, having recently become fascinated with the Daily Prophet, the moving newspaper.
Daisy also joined them to read the Daily Prophet, hoping to learn more about the magical world.
"I made corn chowder especially this morning," Daisy said with a smile, serving her son a large bowl of the thick soup. She knew Albert loved it.
"Does that mean I don't have to drink milk?" Nia asked, looking delighted. She hated her daily glass of milk.
"Of course you still have to drink it," Daisy replied, placing a glass of milk in front of her daughter.
"Has Albert learned any new magic?" Nia glanced at the milk and quickly changed the subject.
She had learned this trick from Albert himself. The girl planned to pour the milk into Tom's cat bowl when her mother wasn't looking.
"Nia," Daisy said, appearing behind her daughter as if from nowhere, hands on her hips, watching the scene intently.
"Mom, I'm just getting breakfast ready for Tom. He loves milk," Nia blurted out defensively.
"It's alright, Nia. I have more here," Daisy said, pouring another glass of milk and placing it in front of her daughter. "Remember to finish it all."
"I hate drinking milk every day," Nia grumbled.
"Doesn't Albert drink milk every day too?" Daisy reminded her. "He never complains."
"That's different. I've never seen Albert dislike anything since he was little," Nia said, feeling frustrated. Her family always used Albert to shut her down. "You can't keep comparing me to him. He's an exception."
"Oh, he used to dislike cheese," Daisy said, raising an eyebrow. "But he eats it now."
"Liar," Nia scoffed, completely unconvinced. Albert's potato pancake was piled high with cheese and ham.
"It's true. There are some cheeses Albert still avoids, especially the really strong-smelling ones," Herb chimed in, finding the conversation amusing. Now that he thought about it, his son really wasn't a picky eater. He'd eat even the foods most children hated.
"Children who aren't picky about food grow taller," Albert said without hesitation.
"Why would I want to be that tall?" Nia retorted.
"Being taller makes you prettier," Albert reminded her. "Mom's a perfect example."
Daisy clearly loved this compliment and smiled even more brightly.
"Flatterer," Nia muttered, reluctantly finishing her milk under Daisy's "loving" gaze.
However, she poured half her glass into Albert's, explaining that he needed to drink more milk to grow taller and become as handsome as their father.
Daisy and Herb were both tall and slender, and their professions required them to maintain impeccable appearances and stay in shape. More importantly, they were still young.
Originally, Herb had planned to take the family to the zoo that day, knowing that school was starting soon and Albert would be returning to Hogwarts. This might be their last chance for a family outing this year.
But when Albert expressed disinterest, Nia chimed in, declaring the zoo boring. The Andersons abandoned their plans and settled into the living room to chat and watch TV.
Nia wanted to ride her toy broom, but Herb firmly refused, remembering the last time she nearly crashed into the TV.
The living room wasn't large enough, and riding a broom outside would be inappropriate—someone might see them and ask awkward questions.
So, the toy broom Luke had just bought for Nia was locked away in the cupboard by Herb.
Albert had actually tried riding the toy broom once himself, but it gave him the unsettling feeling that he was having a relapse of his teenage phase. The broom didn't fly very high, and he quickly lost interest.
For Nia, who had no idea what a "teenage phase" even meant, the idea of soaring freely on a broom held irresistible appeal.
After watching some TV, Daisy went to the kitchen to prepare Earl Grey tea and cake. The four Andersons, plus their cat, settled into the living room to read The Tales of Beedle the Bard.
This collection of stories was the magical world's equivalent of fairy tales.
The tales differed somewhat from the familiar versions they knew. Take Sleeping Beauty, for example.
In this version, a medieval sorceress, jealous of the local king's daughter's beauty, coated a spinning wheel with the Draught of Living Death. She lured the young princess to touch the spindle, plunging her into an endless slumber.
Later, a wizard applied a Cheering Draught to his lips and kissed the princess, awakening her.
Well, the magical version of Sleeping Beauty certainly lacked some of the romantic charm. Still, the family listened with rapt attention, even though they had no idea what the Draught of Living Death or Cheering Draught actually were.
The Andersons were currently reading the story of the Three Brothers, taking turns reading paragraphs aloud, which made the process quite enjoyable.
"Is there really a stone that can bring people back to life?" Nia asked curiously.
The magical world was full of infinite possibilities. Since the alchemist Nicolas Flamel had supposedly lived for centuries using the legendary Philosopher's Stone, a stone capable of resurrection didn't seem entirely impossible.
"Nia, there's no such thing in the world," Herb reminded her. "And you probably heard that the second brother's lover didn't truly come back to life."
"It's just a fairy tale. As the saying goes, 'Fairy tales are all lies,'" Albert said with a grin.
"Albert, you're so annoying! Can't you leave me with a little hope?" Nia grumbled, though she knew perfectly well that fairy tales were fictional.