Everyday Life of a Top Student at Hogwarts

Chapter 2 Professor McGonagall

Emily carefully picked up the unconscious owl from the floor. Its feathers, glistening with night dew, shimmered like satin in the warm light of the hallway. She placed it on the cushioned coffee table and quickly brought over a dish of nuts and golden-brown dried fish, placing them beside it.

She pulled her son to sit on the sofa, her fingertips unconsciously tracing the wax seal of the letter on her lap. The rough texture of the parchment reminded her that this was not an illusion.

Karen's pupils were still slightly dilated with excitement. He was repeatedly scratching his palm with his fingernails—a habit he had developed in the orphanage in his previous life, an uncontrollable urge whenever he received a used Harry Potter book from the recycling center. Those well-worn chapters had been the brightest stars in his barren childhood, and now, the brick walls of Diagon Alley were piling up in his mind, taking on a real shape.

"Emily!" David's opening of the door startled the boy from his reverie. His father's coat still carried the salty scent of the sea breeze. "Lily only said an owl delivered a message? What exactly—"

"You'll understand after you read this, David," Emily interrupted David.

The parchment rustled softly as it was passed around. Emily suddenly grabbed Karen's trembling wrist: "You know something, don't you? Ever since that high fever you had when you were five..." She didn't finish her sentence, but Karen remembered that stormy night. The eerie sight of raindrops suspended in front of the window—it turned out that the so-called awakening of superpowers was the first sign of his awakening of magic; he should have realized it sooner.

"It's real, it's not a prank." Karen suddenly raised her hand, and the porcelain plate on the coffee table floated up three inches. Lily gasped, and a few nuts rolled off the edge, bouncing away on the oak floor.

"After I had a fever when I was five years old, I discovered that my memory had become stronger, and I was able to manipulate things to float."

"Karen, Karen, can you make me float?" Lily's face was filled with undisguised excitement and curiosity.

"I can make a pencil case tap dance on a desk," the boy added with a wry smile, "but to make a living thing float? I'd probably have to wait until I get to Hogwarts..." His voice trailed off as his sister sighed in disappointment.

David's gaze darted back and forth between his son's excited face and the incredible letter, his rational thinking clashing violently with the surreal scene before him.

"Hogwarts..." he repeated the unfamiliar word under his breath, his fingers tapping unconsciously on the oak dining table, making a dull thud.

"So, Cullen, are you really sure you want to go to Hogwarts? Do you know what that means?" David finally spoke, his voice low and gentle.

"This means you'll be facing a completely unfamiliar world all by yourself. Without us, without Lily, without anything you know..."

“I know,” Karen interrupted her father, a confident smile playing on her lips. “But you taught me that a true explorer never backs down because of the unknown. Besides…” His gaze fell on the pale yellow envelope. “I always felt that this was where I truly belonged.”

David and his wife exchanged a glance. Their son, who always searched for seashells alone at low tide, now had a fire in his eyes they had never seen before. "We'll support you," the father finally said, his fingers unconsciously tracing the gold-embossed school badge on the letter, "but at least we should wait for this messenger—"

"Coo!" The owl suddenly ruffled its feathers, its amber eyes warily scanning the surrounding humans. When Emily pushed the food dish closer, it tilted its head and examined it for a full ten seconds before demurely pecking at a small dried fish.

Karen crouched down, bringing his eyes to the level of the greyish-brown owl. Sunlight streamed through the window, casting varying shades of brown on the owl's feathers. He carefully held up the envelope and asked softly, "Can you still deliver mail?" while gesturing back and forth between the envelope and the owl with his index finger.

The owl tilted its head and blinked its amber eyes. It flapped its intact left wing, making two short "coo" sounds, and its neck turned 180 degrees flexibly, as if it were considering the human's intentions.

"Does it even understand anything?" Lily crouched down next to Karen, resting her chin on her hands, curiously observing the owl's every move. "I've seen it in animal documentaries; owls can turn their heads 270 degrees, but does it nod?"

Just then, the owl suddenly did something that surprised both siblings. It tilted its head to one side, then to the other, and finally swayed it up and down, just like a scholar carefully choosing his words. The action was so anthropomorphic that Karen almost burst out laughing.

Just as Karen was trying to gesture how to get a reply, the doorbell rang suddenly.

"No one should be coming at this time." David frowned, glanced at the nautical clock on the fireplace, and hesitated before walking toward the door.

The moment the door opened, the woman standing on the steps made David's breath catch in his throat. She wore a dark green robe adorned with star-like silver threads, her hair was meticulously styled in a bun, and her sharp gaze pierced through her square glasses. Most unsettlingly, she exuded an aura that seemed to freeze the sunlight streaming into the porch.

"Mr. Hawthorne?" The witch's voice was clear and sharp, like the surface of a frozen lake in winter. The silver badge on her chest suddenly spun, revealing the school crest with the letter "H". "I am Minerva McGonagall, Professor of Transfiguration at Hogwarts."

A teacup overturned in the living room. Lily emerged from under David's arm, owl feathers still clinging to her hair: "Professor! Can you make things float? Like Karen?"

"Lily!" Emily hurriedly pulled her daughter back to her side.

"It seems you've already witnessed Mr. Hawthorne's magical outburst, a natural phenomenon that occurs when a young wizard can't control his magic."

"It usually manifests as objects floating for no apparent reason," McGonagall continued, her wand tracing an elegant arc in the air, "or as unexpected magic triggered by emotional excitement." Her gaze swept over the crowd, landing on Karen, who stood silently by the window. Sunlight made the envelope in the boy's hand translucent, and the gold threads hidden within the parchment fibers shimmered faintly.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Karen." Professor McGonagall's Scottish accent gave her surname a slight upturn at the end. "It seems our messenger has encountered some mishap." Her gaze swept over the injured bird pecking at a nut.

Karen's Adam's apple bobbed. The witch before him was more vivid than he remembered; an ancient wisdom lingered in the fine lines around her eyes. This wasn't a character from a movie, but real, breathing magic.

"A magical outburst?" Emily suddenly broke the silence as she handed over the coffee. "But Karen can control this ability." The white porcelain cup and silver spoon clinked together, producing a crisp, resonant sound.

Professor McGonagall raised an eyebrow, a gesture that made her look like an alert owl: "Autonomy? That's true..."

Karen lifted her finger slightly, and the entire tea tray rose smoothly, but suddenly tilted as it turned, and the nut struck the owl's head like a miniature cannonball. The injured bird angrily snatched a small dried fish and flicked its tail feathers at Karen's forehead.

"Exceptional control," she murmured, her voice tinged with surprise, "but the precision still needs practice. No problem, Hogwarts will help you perfect these abilities."

She waved her wand, and a knitted cushion on the sofa suddenly stretched out a fluffy tail. The cushion, now a tabby cat, yawned, revealing pink gums woven from yarn.

"My God!" David exclaimed, mingling with Lily's scream. As the little girl tried to pick up the cat, the shapeshifting creature burst open its yarn, baring its woven fangs at her.

Cullen took a deep breath, his fingers lightly tracing the edge of the parchment list. "Professor McGonagall," he tried to keep his voice calm, though his heart was still racing, "one last question: how do I get to Hogwarts? And where can I buy these items?"

Professor McGonagall's tense shoulders seemed to relax slightly, and a barely perceptible smile appeared on her lips. "I'm so glad you've accepted all of this so quickly," she said, her voice unusually gentle. "You are the most adaptable Muggle family I've met in all these years."

She took a small leather pouch from the inner pocket of her robe, poured out a few Galleons, and placed them on the coffee table. The gold coins shimmered warmly in the sunlight, and the numbers and symbols engraved on them made Lily reach out to touch them.

"Gringotts, our wizarding bank, provides currency exchange services for new students," Professor McGonagall explained. "The limit is 200 Galleons per year, and the exchange rate is 5 pounds to 1 Galleon."

"You can make some preparations first. I will visit again at this time tomorrow, and I will take you to Diagon Alley to buy the items you need."

"Okay, thank you, Professor."

"See you tomorrow, Mr. Karen." She waved her wand gracefully, and the tabby cat purred contentedly, transforming back into a cushion.

As Professor McGonagall's figure Apparated and disappeared through the doorway, Lily suddenly let out a scream. She jumped up and down excitedly, and with each leap, the curtains in the living room moved without any wind, and the 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, then reached out and caught a shopping list that fluttered down.

"It seems we have more than one child with magical talent," he said softly, exchanging a complicated look with his wife.

Emily rubbed her temples. "David, you go with Karen to Diagon Alley tomorrow, and bring plenty of cash." She turned to Lily, "As for our sea voyage plans..."

"It has to be postponed!" Lily exclaimed, her eyes sparkling like stars. "I want to see my brother buy a magic wand!"

Karen quietly slipped out of the living room. The familiar creaking of the stairs beneath his feet sounded unusual now. He closed the bedroom door, leaned back in his chair, and let the sea breeze from the window caress his burning cheeks.

Less than an hour ago, he was just a boy planning a weekend sea voyage. Now, he holds the key to a magical world. The address on the envelope suddenly caught his attention: 17 Crescent Street, Huey, Devonshire.

"Derwin County..." he murmured to himself, memories flooding back.

When he was eight years old, the image of the elderly silver-haired couple reappeared before him at the Mayflower Steps in Plymouth Harbor. The magical aura surrounding them, the mysterious runic parchment, and the note warning him not to gaze into the abyss…

Devonshire, yes, that's right, Devonshire!

Devonshire, Harry Potter, an elderly couple, like Niven. That elderly couple is very likely the Nicolas Flamels.

The desk drawer was suddenly pulled open, and the runic parchment scroll, which had remained undeciphered for eight years, now emitted a faint glow, the runes moving like tadpoles across its surface. A faded inscription had appeared on it sometime earlier:

To the inheritors who have seen the truth:

……

——NF & PF】

Although the details in the middle are still incomprehensible, Karen's conjecture has undoubtedly been confirmed. If he remembers correctly, Nicolas Flamel's wife was named Perené, and NF & PF should represent them.

Karen resolved to find more books about ancient runes and alchemy in Diagon Alley tomorrow. Perhaps, just perhaps, he could unlock the secret of that parchment…

Outside the window, an unfamiliar raven skimmed across the moonlit sea, its leg band bearing a peculiar symbol: ∞.