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What did he mean, his bill would be sent directly to the Hogwarts Headmaster’s office?
And what did he mean, Dumbledore would be paying his tab at Flourish and Blotts?
Miss Granger understood every single word that came out of Isaac’s mouth, but when those words were combined into those two sentences, she really wished her comprehension skills weren’t quite so sharp.
Was he actually trying to tell her that Dumbledore was a powerful wizard with a heart of gold?
That the only reason he was willing to settle the bill was out of pure kindness?
“That’s right, Professor Dumbledore is a very kind person.” Isaac nodded at Hermione with a reassuring smile.
His eyes were full of warm approval and encouragement.
Little girl, the fact that you can view Dumbledore in such a light not only makes me happy for the Headmaster, but it also makes me willing to cross your name off a certain little notebook.
The title of that specific little notebook was Who is Dumbledore’s Favorite Student.
Isaac’s words caused Hermione’s expression to change drastically.
She subconsciously slapped a hand over her mouth, only to realize a second later that the defensive thoughts she had just harbored had definitely not been spoken aloud.
Could she have been hit by some sort of mind-reading magic?!
“In the magical world, we don’t call it mind-reading; it’s called Legilimency.
Though, in truth, my own progress hasn’t reached the level where I can learn Legilimency yet,” Isaac explained to Hermione, his expression entirely innocent.
“Moreover, any wizard capable of casting Legilimency wandlessly and non-verbally in such an understated manner would have to be an absolute master.
Do I look like a master-level wizard to you?”
Oh no!
It was a wolf in sheep’s clothing asking for validation!
Hermione shivered all over, instinctively sensing that it would be far better not to answer that question.
Furthermore, while she had to admit that Isaac’s explanation made logical sense, why on earth was this guy able to read her thoughts so perfectly?
You still dare to claim you can’t read minds?
Isaac offered an awkward but polite smile.
It really wasn’t that he could read minds; it was simply that Hermione, at her current age, wore her emotions completely on her sleeve, making her thoughts incredibly easy to decipher.
Isaac, combining both of his lifetimes, hadn’t lived nearly as long as Dumbledore had in one.
However, he did possess a wealth of perceptual discernment accumulated across two lives.
When one factored in that reading people was a skill Isaac passively practiced quite a bit through his prophetic visions, being able to see right through the surface thoughts of an eleven-year-old girl felt entirely reasonable.
It was indeed very reasonable.
Beside them, Mr.
Granger clapped enthusiastically like a delighted seal, telling Isaac that the impromptu performance just now was truly spectacular.
In his excitement, the older man even began reaching for his wallet, fully intending to reward Isaac handsomely with British pounds.
Unfortunately, such an emotional, alcohol-induced impulse was swiftly and firmly halted by Mrs.
Granger.
Isaac immediately let out a quiet sigh of regret.
This specific type of “number-one big spender” who became overly generous after a few drinks was a rare treasure indeed.
Finally, with Isaac’s assistance, Mrs.
Granger prepared to head home with her thoroughly disheartened daughter and her bewildered husband.
“Thank you so much, Isaac.” Mrs.
Granger shook Isaac’s hand warmly.
Her peripheral vision kept darting toward her husband, who was currently half-slumped in the passenger seat, and she felt her back teeth grinding.
If Mr.
Granger failed to wake up properly tonight, Hermione would likely find her dear father tomorrow morning sleeping on the living room sofa, face-down in the hallway entrance, or curled up beside the toilet in the bathroom.
“If you ever find the time, please be sure to visit us.
By the way, here is our address.” Mrs.
Granger produced a business card, scribbled their home address across the back with a pen, and then slid into the driver’s seat.
After watching the Granger family’s car pull away, Isaac finally lowered his waving hand.
Hopefully, the little witch Hermione would be able to get a good night’s sleep.
When she woke up, she would hopefully realize that the sky over the magical world wasn’t actually that dark.
Not everyone could be like Isaac, who not only looked like the child of an old friend to Dumbledore but also possessed the mature demeanor of a lifelong contemporary.
Having sent off the Granger family, Isaac also prepared to head back.
The primary purpose of his outing today had been to acquire advanced literature on Transfiguration theory, and the bookstore manager’s recommendations had been highly practical.
Two textbooks, two specialized journals, plus a comprehensive bound collection.
These volumes would be more than enough to keep Isaac occupied until the Hogwarts term officially commenced.
As for what would happen after school started…
the Hogwarts library would simply have to welcome its strictest patron!
Just as Isaac was about to step toward the roadside vehicle arranged by his old butler, his footsteps suddenly faltered.
The next second, he spun on his heel and walked straight back into the Leaky Cauldron.
He first requested old Tom to inform the waiting driver that he could head back first, as he would find his own way home later.
Then, he navigated his way straight toward Eeylops Owl Emporium in Diagon Alley.
The proprietor of the owl shop still remembered Isaac perfectly—in fact, Isaac was currently the reigning celebrity of Diagon Alley.
During this particular period, even Harry Potter wasn’t enjoying as much active notoriety as Isaac.
After all, how many years had Harry Potter been known as the Boy Who Lived?
A rumored illegitimate son of Albus Dumbledore, on the other hand, was a juicy scandal the public hadn’t seen in decades.
Yes, that was right.
In the span of a single month, the rumored relationship between Isaac and Dumbledore had rapidly evolved in the local gossip mills from “distant relative” to “illegitimate son.” There was simply no helping it; judging by the sheer efficiency of wizarding gossip, the viral spread of “Dumbledore’s secret love child” was vastly superior to the mundane nature of a “distant family relation.”
“Oh, if it isn’t Mr.
Valdore!
A true pleasure to see you,” the shop owner greeted him, a hint of nervousness creeping into his voice as he noted Isaac’s hurried entrance.
“Seeing you drop in such a rush, is there perhaps an issue with your owl?”
The merchant couldn’t help but feel a bit anxious.
Even if this boy wasn’t literally Professor Dumbledore’s illegitimate son, he undeniably possessed an incredibly intimate connection to the Chief Wizard.
If the owl he had sold to Isaac developed severe health complications after a mere month, it would reflect terribly on his business.
Although the magical world lacked formal consumer protection laws or seven-day return policies, a wizard’s raw power was the ultimate warranty.
And as for Dumbledore’s power…
if the man wished it, he could easily secure an absolute refund on anything.
“No, sir.
Cuckoo is doing splendidly,” Isaac assured him.
“I’ve come this time hoping to briefly borrow one of the shop’s public owls.
I have a letter that needs to be dispatched to Headmaster Dumbledore immediately.”
Upon hearing this, the shop owner didn’t waste a single breath and instantly provided one of his finest postal owls.
Once Isaac had hastily penned his message, he secured it to the bird’s leg and watched it take flight.
He didn’t let the shop owner’s owl run the errand for free, either; he purchased a substantial stash of premium owl treats for Cuckoo from the counter.
Afterward, he walked out of the establishment completely content, carrying his small package of purchases.
Next, Isaac spent some time acting precisely like a young wizard stepping into the magical world for the very first time, displaying an immense, wide-eyed curiosity toward everything around him.
He strolled from the ice cream parlor all the way to Quality Quidditch Supplies, lingering the longest outside the broomstick display.
The featured model showcased inside the window was the Nimbus 2000—the exact broomstick that Harry Potter would famously receive later that term.
Isaac carefully scrutinized the aerodynamic differences between the Nimbus 2000 and the lesser models lining the racks.
Ultimately, he concluded that he harbored very little personal interest in a mode of transport that involved straddling a wooden stick to fly.
He certainly didn’t object to the concept of flight itself, but if it required riding a broom, he would much rather pass.
Even though he wasn’t particularly interested in the merchandise, he deliberately remained inside the shop for a significant duration.
This aligned flawlessly with the behavioral logic expected of a young wizard.
Children of Isaac’s age were always desperately hoping they could find something magical to ride.