Daily Life at Hogwarts - Chapter 12

The summer holidays always seem to fly by. In the blink of an eye, it was already the end of August, and the start of the Hogwarts school year was approaching.

It would be a lie to say Albert wasn’t looking forward to going to Hogwarts, even though he would have preferred to laze around at home a bit longer.

However, time waits for no one.

Tinkering with magic on his own without proper guidance was never a good idea. It was like a blind man walking with a stick, unsure of what lay ahead.

Albert still had only a rudimentary understanding of magic, even though he had read all the available books.

He maintained a pen pal relationship with Drummond, exchanging letters every three days.

This Hufflepuff student, Drummond, was just average academically. It took Albert only a few days to exhaust Drummond’s magical knowledge.

Drummond believed Albert might be sorted into Ravenclaw because of his immense interest in magical knowledge. He seemed somewhat regretful about that.

Albert, however, didn’t care much about his house assignment. Just as long as he wasn’t put into Slytherin; after all, that house wasn’t particularly welcoming to Muggle-borns.

“Rest well,” Albert said, patting the owl’s head and placing some food in its cage.

He was pleased with this owl, Snowy, especially since, upon Albert’s repeated requests, she had stopped bringing prey back.

Albert was sure Daisy wouldn’t appreciate finding dead mice while cleaning.

Ignoring the hissing of Tom, the cat next to her, Snowy let out a tired hoot and went into her cage to feed and rest.

“Behave, Tom,” Albert said, picking up the shorthair cat and heading downstairs for breakfast.

Today, Herbert was at home, engrossed in The Daily Prophet. The animated paper fascinated him.

Daisy also took a keen interest in the paper, hoping to gather more insights into the magical world.

“Good morning! I made a special corn chowder for you,” Daisy said with a smile, serving Albert a large bowl of his favorite soup.

“Does this mean I don’t have to drink milk?” Nia, seeming hopeful, expressed her distaste for her daily dose of milk.

“Of course, you still have to drink it,” Daisy replied, placing a glass of milk in front of her daughter.

“Didn’t Albert learn a new spell?” Nia tried to divert the topic, hoping her mother would get distracted.

She had learned this trick from Albert. The girl planned to pour the milk into Tom’s cat bowl while her mother wasn’t looking.

“I’m right here, Nia,” Daisy suddenly appeared behind her daughter, hands on her hips, watching intently.

“I was just preparing Tom’s breakfast. He loves milk,” Nia quickly defended.

“It’s alright, Nia. Here’s another glass,” Daisy said, pouring a fresh glass of milk for her daughter. “Make sure to finish it.”

“I hate having to drink milk every day,” Nia grumbled.

“Doesn’t Albert drink milk every day too?” Daisy reminded. “And he never complains.”

“That’s different. I’ve never seen Albert disliking anything since we were kids,” Nia lamented, disliking the constant comparisons to her brother. “He’s an exception.”

“Well, there was a time when he didn’t like cheese,” Daisy quipped, “But he eats it now.”

“That’s a lie,” Nia retorted, pointing to Albert’s cheese and ham pancake.

“True, there are certain cheeses he avoids, especially the pungent ones,” Herbert chimed in, reflecting on how unfussy their son was, even with foods that most kids would despise.

“Kids who aren’t picky eaters grow tall,” Albert declared without hesitation.

“Why would I want to be that tall?” Nia countered.

“Being taller makes you more elegant,” Albert pointed out. “Just look at mom.”

Daisy, pleased with the compliment, smiled even brighter.

“Brown-noser,” Nia muttered. Under Daisy’s “loving” gaze, she reluctantly finished her milk.

However, she shared half of it with Albert, arguing that he should drink more milk so he could grow taller and be just as handsome as their father.

Both Daisy and Herbert were tall and lanky. Due to their professions, they paid close attention to their appearance and maintained good physiques. Moreover, they were still quite young.

Initially, Herbert planned to take the family to the zoo since he had a free day. With the school year approaching and Albert soon departing for Hogwarts, they probably wouldn’t have another chance to go out together this year.

However, after Albert expressed disinterest, Nia also voiced that she found the zoo unexciting. Thus, the family decided to change their plans and stayed in, chatting and watching TV.

Nia wanted to ride her toy broomstick, but Herbert firmly declined, recalling the last time she nearly crashed into the television.

The living room space was limited, and riding the broomstick outdoors wasn’t suitable either – it would be hard to explain if someone saw.

So, the toy broomstick that Luke had just bought for Nia was locked away by Herbert.

In truth, Albert had once tried the toy broomstick himself. He felt silly doing it; it didn’t fly very high, and after trying it once, he found it uninteresting.

However, for Nia, who had no concept of feeling ‘too old for something’, the idea of soaring on a broomstick was very enticing.

After watching TV for a while, Daisy headed to the kitchen to prepare tea and cake. The family of four, plus their cat, settled in the living room to read “The Tales of Beedle the Bard.”

This book was a collection of fairy tales from the wizarding world.

The tales differed from the stories they were accustomed to. For example, there was a version of Sleeping Beauty where a medieval witch, jealous of a local princess’s beauty, smeared a potion on a spindle. The young princess was enticed to touch it and fell into a deep, unending sleep. A male wizard, after applying a reviving potion to his lips, awakened her with a kiss.

Okay, the magical version of Sleeping Beauty lacked some romantic essence. Still, the family was engrossed, even if they had no clue what the potion or the reviving elixir was.

At that moment, the Andersons were engrossed in the story of the Deathly Hallows, taking turns reading. This process was genuinely entertaining.

“Is there really a stone that can resurrect the dead?” Nia asked curiously.

The world of magic was full of endless possibilities. Since alchemist Nicolas Flamel supposedly lived for hundreds of years using the rumored Philosopher’s Stone, the existence of a stone that could bring back the dead didn’t seem far-fetched.

“Nia, no such thing exists,” Herbert reminded her, “And you heard, in the story, the second brother’s loved one didn’t genuinely come back to life.”

“There’s a saying that fairy tales are all lies,” Albert said with a grin.

“Albert, you’re so annoying. Can’t you let me dream a little?” Nia complained, though she obviously knew that fairy tales were fictional.