Isaac turned toward the sound, and the first thing that caught his eye was, without a doubt, Hermione’s enviable volume of hair.
Often, it takes a significant amount of hair to achieve such a bushy, untamed look.
With hair as fine and soft as Isaac’s, he simply couldn’t achieve that level of fullness.
Finding herself suddenly being stared at by both Isaac and the manager, Hermione couldn’t help but blush.
Even if it was entirely unintentional, eavesdropping on someone else’s conversation and then reacting so loudly to the contents was undoubtedly considered incredibly rude behavior within the Granger household.
“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to eavesdrop on you, but!” Hermione spoke rapidly, her words tumbling out in a breathless rush.
“But did you just say you’ve already finished A Beginner’s Guide to Transfiguration?!”
During their previous encounter at the Granger residence, after Professor McGonagall had departed, she had been replaced by the rather gloomy-looking Professor Snape.
That professor had appeared so thoroughly unapproachable that Mr.
Granger had only tentatively tried to initiate a conversation; upon realizing Professor Snape had absolutely no intention of responding, he had quickly desisted.
During their subsequent first trip to Diagon Alley, the Granger family had merely purchased the items listed on Hermione’s acceptance letter under the silent, rigid guidance of Professor Snape.
Fortunately, they had already committed the hidden entrance’s location to memory, allowing them to visit again on their own terms.
The Grangers had intended to return to Diagon Alley the very next day, but Hermione had already become completely captivated by her new Hogwarts textbooks.
For the past month, she had spent every single day either absorbing the basic theoretical knowledge outlined in the chapters or attempting practical spellcasting.
Yet, after four weeks of grueling effort, she had only managed to glean a few minor insights into the charms within The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 1.
Under her parents’ gentle persuasion, she had agreed to come to Diagon Alley today, intending to take a much-needed break and clear her head.
However, the moment they arrived, Hermione had still dived headfirst into the bookstore.
The Grangers were long accustomed to their daughter’s bookworm habits, so they simply crossed the street to sit outside the ice cream parlor for a while, taking in the wonder of the magical world around them.
Just moments before, Hermione had been entirely absorbed in Hogwarts: A History, finding everything recorded within its pages utterly fascinating.
She had been reading intently when a familiar voice suddenly drifted over to her.
It was the voice of that self-proclaimed “Seer,” whose prophetic claims she still couldn’t definitively verify.
She had posed the exact same question to Professor McGonagall, which had resulted in the Deputy Headmistress leaving their home in a visible state of shock.
But when she had boldly asked Professor Snape the same thing, it had only earned her an exceptionally unkind glare.
None of that mattered right now; the point was, what on earth had she just heard?!
What did he mean by casually stating he had already finished A Beginner’s Guide to Transfiguration?!
Hermione was a sharp girl; she had clearly detected the underlying implication in the bookstore manager’s question.
Just when she was at a complete loss regarding Transfiguration theory and struggling to execute her first spells, someone her own age had already conquered the entire textbook?
One had to understand that A Beginner’s Guide to Transfiguration wasn’t designed solely for first-year students.
It served as the required textbook for both first and second-year students at Hogwarts.
Similarly, Intermediate Transfiguration was the standard curriculum for years three through five, while Advanced Transfiguration was reserved for the sixth and seventh years.
For Isaac to have already finished the first text meant, to Hermione, that someone was leading her by two full years right at the starting line!
How could she possibly allow that?
The overwhelming realization nearly brought Hermione to tears.
Seeing the panic on her face, Isaac hurriedly attempted to offer some comfort.
“You didn’t mishear; I really have finished it.
It’s just A Beginner’s Guide to Transfiguration, after all.
How difficult could it possibly be?” As Isaac said this, he cast a pointed glance at the bookstore manager, looking as though he were silently seeking the man’s validation.
The manager was remarkably cooperative, nodding along immediately in absolute agreement.
Putting aside whether A Beginner’s Guide to Transfiguration had been difficult during his own school days, it certainly wouldn’t pose a challenge to a “relative” of Albus Dumbledore!
Valdore was currently a major client of their establishment; if the boy were to claim that Dumbledore couldn’t perform basic magic right now, the manager would still have to smile and nod along.
Isaac’s personal credibility might not have ranked very high in Hermione’s mind due to the prophecy incident, but she had no choice but to believe the veteran bookstore manager.
Thus, it was true: Isaac had actually digested in a single month a textbook that an ordinary wizard required two full years to study.
The young girl looked on the absolute verge of tears.
Across the cobblestone street, the Grangers noticed that something was amiss with their daughter.
Quickly paying for their ice cream, they hurried over to the shop.
The bookstore manager, perhaps feeling a twinge of guilt for inadvertently distressing a little girl, offered an explanation.
“Young lady, if you are anxious about your future coursework, there is truly no need to be so disheartened.
There aren’t many individuals in the entire wizarding world blessed with the kind of raw talent Mr.
Valdore possesses.”
Hm?
Hermione’s sharp mind immediately locked onto the blind spot in the manager’s words.
“Mr.
Manager, when you say ‘there aren’t many,’ does that mean…
there is actually more than one wizard as terrifyingly talented as him?”
The girl’s voice pitched slightly off-key, and the bookstore manager instantly realized his well-meaning attempt to comfort her had backfired spectacularly.
Oh dear, why on earth was this Muggle-born girl so intensely competitive?
As a seasoned retail manager, he understood perfectly that loose lips invite severe trouble.
He also knew that powerful wizards frequently harbored incredibly volatile or eccentric temperaments.
He could easily soothe Hermione by declaring that Valdore’s talent was entirely one of a kind, but who could guarantee that such a sweeping statement wouldn’t eventually reach the ears of other proud, powerful wizards?
What if some vengeful sorcerer took offense and targeted Valdore, thereby inciting the catastrophic wrath of Albus Dumbledore?
Good heavens, would another global wizarding war erupt over a retail compliment?
He had absolutely no desire to be the historical sinner who triggered a magical conflict.
The bookstore manager decisively pretended not to hear Hermione’s follow-up question, turning his full attention back to Isaac.
“Given your extraordinary aptitude in the field of Transfiguration, Mr.
Valdore, I highly suggest you subscribe to Transfiguration Today and the Transfiguration Monthly.
These are the foremost, cutting-edge journals regarding modern magical theory.
Additionally, I personally recommend purchasing Transfiguration Today: The Development and Outlook of Transfiguration, Bound Volume.
It is an exceptional collection of academic papers that bridges the gap immediately following the Advanced Transfiguration Guide, serving as a perfect stepping stone for when you choose to advance your studies further.”
The bookstore manager’s recommendation was quite a mouthful, but Isaac understood the underlying subtext perfectly.
Judging by Hogwarts’ enrollment age and structured curriculum, the institution functioned essentially as a combined middle and high school.
It was a structured environment where young witches and wizards could acquire fundamental magical knowledge at a very low cost.
However, once they graduated from Hogwarts and integrated into proper wizarding society, they would quickly discover that the advanced knowledge so easily accessible within the castle walls would cost them ten, a hundred, or even a thousand times more to pursue out in the wider world.
It was at that specific post-graduate threshold that the socioeconomic gap between Muggle-born, half-blood, and established pure-blood wizards would truly widen into a chasm.
The most critical issue was that by the time Muggle-born and half-blood wizards came to this realization, they would discover that within the entire global wizarding infrastructure, apart from institutions like Hogwarts—this magical middle school—there was simply no such thing as a higher-education magical university.
If they harbored the ambition to acquire truly advanced, esoteric knowledge, they had no choice but to grit their teeth and continuously shell out an exorbitant premium to private collectors or specialized guilds.