As for the game of life, even if Mr.
Granger couldn’t exactly be considered a top-tier player, he was at least among those who had a relatively successful experience with it.
He had originally thought that once he raised his little overachiever at home, his life would be complete.
Who could have anticipated that in his middle age, the world would suddenly load a magical expansion pack?
In ordinary society, Mr.
Granger could be described as a man who handled affairs with ease, but regarding wizarding society, he was completely in the dark.
According to a saying from Isaac’s hometown, if his daughter entered the magical world to study and live, and something terrible actually happened, he wouldn’t even know whose door to knock on to beg for help.
In Muggle society, he could spend money and pull strings, but in the magical world, his money was useless.
They didn’t even accept British pounds.
He had originally intended to find an opportunity to chat with a Hogwarts professor to gain some understanding of the magical world, but he had never expected to encounter someone as thoroughly unapproachable as Professor Snape.
The entire time, he had been too worried about offending Snape to dare ask anything else.
Now that he had finally met Isaac, with whom he could actually hold a conversation, he was bursting with a stomach full of questions.
Isaac saw that Mr.
Granger was eager for answers, and since it was still early, he didn’t mind providing some guidance for the anxious father.
In truth, his own understanding of the magical world was somewhat limited.
Although Isaac could use his prophetic abilities, he did not keep himself immersed in visions twenty-four hours a day.
Grindelwald had once warned him that the absolute greatest taboo for a Seer is to immerse oneself in prophecy all day long.
Prophecy should only be a tool, never a crutch.
If someone else had said this, Isaac might have doubted it.
But coming from Gellert Grindelwald, the words carried exceptional weight.
That man was a Seer who had truly failed; how could he not know exactly where the pitfalls lay?
Therefore, before receiving his Hogwarts acceptance letter, Isaac had generally treated his gift for prophecy like a search engine.
After receiving the letter, it had simply turned into a software for attending advanced online classes.
In short, human Seers rarely utilized even one percent of their prophetic talent, and Isaac felt that relying solely on the trait to act like a street-corner charlatan was the most unimaginative way to use it.
Overall, although Isaac’s understanding of the magical world had its limits, having a half-full bottle of knowledge was still vastly superior to Mr.
Granger’s complete ignorance.
Mr.
Granger rubbed his hands together, asking with a touch of diffidence, “Um, Isaac…
I heard from Hermione that you once performed a prophecy for her.
Do wizards truly possess that kind of talent?”
“No, that wasn’t a prophecy,” Isaac replied, shaking his head.
“It was merely a deduction made after analyzing existing information and conditions.”
Isaac was being rather tactful; to put it bluntly, it was pure fraud.
“Wizards are naturally drawn to one another.
I simply deduced that your daughter was a young witch who hadn’t enrolled yet, and it just so happened that I had received my own letter from Hogwarts that very day.
The rest was just trying my luck.
Most of my clients don’t care about the fine details anyway; they are often perfectly willing to open their wallets just by hearing one or two pleasant blessings.
That is the actual truth behind my ‘prophecy.'”
Isaac spread his hands innocently.
The fewer people who knew about the reality of his prophetic visions, the better.
Furthermore, Isaac hadn’t really used his sight on the Granger family much anyway.
Most of what he told Mr.
Granger was true, save for the omission of his actual ability.
The remaining facts, through a bit of strategic editing and reordering, were perfectly capable of fooling anyone to death without consequence.
Mr.
Granger nodded thoughtfully, then asked again, “Then, are there actually wizards in the magical world who possess true prophetic talent?”
“Yes, Mr.
Granger, there are,” Isaac confirmed, nodding.
“In fact, there is one among the current Hogwarts professors who possesses a gift for prophecy.
It’s just that…”
“Just what?” Mr.
Granger pressed hurriedly.
“It’s just that I’ve heard this professor’s prophecies are highly unstable and manifest quite randomly.
Even the subjects of the predictions are entirely unpredictable.”
Mr.
Granger understood a little better; if the talent operated at that level, it was hard to say whether it was a blessing or a curse.
Isaac’s answers directly fueled Mr.
Granger’s eagerness for conversation.
After ordering a plate of fish and chips from the Leaky Cauldron, he called for another serving of bangers and mash, and even treated himself to a glass of mead.
“Would you care for anything else to drink, Isaac?” Although Isaac still had half a glass of Butterbeer left, Mr.
Granger enthusiastically intended to buy him a refill.
After receiving Isaac’s polite refusal, Mr.
Granger shook his head regretfully and asked, “Are all the unique talents of wizards so volatile?
Aren’t there any that are more controllable?”
“Oh, certainly,” Isaac said, taking a bite of the fish and chips brought over by old Tom.
“The more controllable traits include Parseltongue, which is the ability to speak to snakes; Metamorphmagi, who can alter their physical appearance at will; and additionally, members of the Dumbledore family are said to have a phoenix come to their aid in times of dire need.
These are all relatively distinct, hereditary talents that certain wizards possess.”
Except for the last one, the first two talents didn’t seem too extreme to Mr.
Granger.
Parseltongue might be better suited for a circus or a zoo, while a Metamorphmagus seemed perfectly tailored to become a secret agent.
These special abilities felt manageable in his view, and his anxious heart relaxed significantly.
With his mind set at ease, Mr.
Granger fully displayed his professional eloquence.
Before long, the atmosphere at the dining table was thoroughly warmed by his chatter.
By the time Mrs.
Granger arrived at the Leaky Cauldron with Hermione in tow, Isaac was already on the verge of throwing an arm around Mr.
Granger’s shoulders.
“Come over here, Hermione!
This is an excellent young man I’ve just been getting to know, Isaac.
He counts as half a local in the magical world, and the two of us have been having a wonderful chat.”
Looking at her father’s slightly unfocused, jovial eyes, Hermione suddenly felt a distinct sense of foreboding.
Immediately after, she heard Isaac turn to Mr.
Granger and say, “You know, the very first time I saw Miss Granger, I knew she was someone destined for great things.
Her future in the wizarding world is limitless.”
Isaac’s words sounded perfectly fine on the surface; they were nothing but high praise.
But the patronizing tone and patriarchal stance of his compliments made Hermione feel increasingly awkward the more she listened.
Who was the last person to praise her in that specific manner?
Ah, right—it was one of her father’s old university classmates who worked as a senior consultant doctor in London!
At the time, her father had even told her to address the man as her uncle.
Hiss…
It hadn’t been that long since their last meeting; how had this boy her own age suddenly jumped up an entire generation in social standing?
Was this even allowed?!
Hermione, who hadn’t completely relapsed into a breakdown yet, still retained some of her composure.
She ignored her father entirely and looked at Isaac, raising an eyebrow.
“Mr.
Valdore, you didn’t seem to pay the bookstore manager just now?
I mean, does Flourish and Blotts actually offer a credit service where they mail you books and let you pay later?
Do you just give the money to the shop’s owl and have it fly the currency back?”
“I’m afraid Flourish and Blotts doesn’t offer such a service.
Perhaps you can ask the manager about it next time?
I didn’t pay because my personal account at the bookstore is billed directly to Hogwarts.
Headmaster Dumbledore will be settling this tab for me.”
Miss Hermione, who had finally been successfully placated by Mrs.
Granger, now looked as though she were rapidly turning to solid stone all over again.