Transforming a person into another form was a stage trick.
A performance requiring countless preparations and visual deception.
But what completely shattered everything Mr.
and Mrs.
Wayne thought they knew— was Minerva McGonagall transforming from a small cat into a full-grown person.
She wore deep green robes and a pointed wizard’s hat atop her head.
That transformation, lasting only a few seconds, had already proven one thing:
Magic existed.
Vincent Wayne showed no surprise.
Instead, he suddenly understood something.
The reason Hoot hadn’t eaten the field mouse— was definitely because of the stern-faced Vice Principal standing before him.
“Mr.
Wayne,” McGonagall began, her emerald eyes behind square glasses turning toward Hoot hiding in Vincent’s arms.
“Hogwarts owls do not have a habit of eating mice.”
“I am curious…”
She paused briefly.
“No matter.”
She seemed pressed for time.
“Mr.
Wayne, Hogwarts is not some plague upon society.”
“It is a magic school with a long and prestigious history in Europe.”
“And also the finest school in the world.”
She noticeably emphasized the word Hogwarts.
Eric awkwardly rubbed his nose.
“Ms.
McGonagall, please understand a father’s good intentions.”
“Of course.”
McGonagall relaxed her tightly pressed lips slightly.
“For Muggles—my apologies.
Muggles refers to people incapable of magic.”
“For Muggles, magic truly is difficult to believe.”
The undeniable truth stood right before the Wayne family.
Meanwhile, Evelyn looked excited.
“Is your headmaster Gandalf?”
McGonagall pressed her lips together again.
“No.
Our headmaster is the greatest wizard of our age—Albus Dumbledore.”
Eric let out a helpless laugh.
“My wife has always dreamed of magic.”
He glanced toward the bookshelf.
“Those are her treasured collections.
Even I’m not allowed to touch them.”
“I understand.”
McGonagall somehow seemed less cold than her appearance suggested.
Vincent immediately noticed this.
Blinking innocently, he walked forward with a harmless expression.
“Vice Principal, if Hoot doesn’t eat mice…
then what should it eat?”
“Anything not raw.”
McGonagall’s gaze shifted toward the opened snack packet in his hand.
“And dried fish.”
Cold on the outside.
Warm on the inside.
And possessing a slight sense of humor.
Vincent tightened his hold on the adorable owl.
“Vice Principal, where do I buy everything on the list?”
Under the gaze of two innocent, wide-eyed faces, McGonagall finally stopped trying to maintain her stern expression.
“Mr.
Wayne, Diagon Alley has specialized shops for those items.”
“How much is tuition?”
He widened his eyes.
“My dad can barely afford this month’s rent.”
“Hogwarts has no tuition fees.”
She simply couldn’t ignore those pure eyes.
“And for families facing financial hardship…
we can even provide scholarships.”
The Wayne couple’s expressions instantly darkened.
Especially Eric.
This entire building belonged to his father.
Business might not have been great recently, but did anyone seriously think his family was in danger of getting thrown out?
Besides— the old man who once ventured into business was their second major pillar of support.
“Thank you, Vice Principal.”
Vincent’s eyes sparkled.
“Can Hoot become my pet?”
“Officially, no.”
“But you can frequently see it at Hogwarts.”
Vincent reluctantly looked down at the owl in his arms.
“I’ll come find you once school starts.”
Such obedient behavior softened McGonagall enough that she gently pushed the owl back toward him.
“Mr.
Wayne, today isn’t over yet.”
Just as Mr.
and Mrs.
Wayne expected— the Vice Principal of Hogwarts had ended up exactly like Westminster’s old headmaster.
Vincent had successfully wrapped her around his finger.
“Do wizards have transportation?”
“We have Floo Powder, Portkeys, flying broomsticks…”
“Wow!
I really want to try them soon!”
If not for needing to learn directions first, Vincent would’ve shamelessly begged for a ride.
Eric, meanwhile, drove with a surprisingly peaceful mindset.
Although he had no idea how Vincent had “persuaded” Westminster’s headmaster— it probably hadn’t looked too different from this.
Evelyn, who understood this deeply, simply smiled the entire time.
Children who knew how to act cute got candy.
She saw absolutely nothing wrong with that.
Listening from the front seat as McGonagall and Vincent moved from wizard transportation to wizard customs— life suddenly felt pretty nice.
No electricity?
Magic provided light.
Laundry and cooking?
No need to do them by hand.
Evelyn was ten thousand percent in favor of sending her son to Hogwarts.
Did Eric dare object?
This wasn’t a matter of whether he dared.
It was a matter of whether he could.
“Does the wizarding world pay taxes?”
“No.”
Using very simple terms, McGonagall briefly explained the wizard economy.
First— their currency was crafted by goblins using unique methods impossible to reproduce with magic.
Second— the wizard population simply wasn’t large enough to become difficult to manage.
And finally— the most important point:
Any wizard with even a little magical ability would never starve.
To them, money was merely a non-essential tool for improving quality of life.
“That’s amazing!”
Vincent suddenly became genuinely excited.
“Our family never has to worry about being unable to afford rent anymore!”
Beside him—
McGonagall suddenly felt her nose sting slightly.
At such a young age…
he already knew how to ease his parents’ burdens.
McGonagall found it difficult to imagine what kind of life this family of three would live in the future if Vincent Wayne’s name had never been written into Hogwarts’ Book of Admittance at birth.
“Oh, child…”
McGonagall removed her square glasses.
“I promise everything will get better.”
“Thank you, Professor.”
Inside, Vincent was practically exploding with joy.
But on the surface, he looked as though her words had deeply inspired him.
“I’ll become the top student in the entire year and make sure Mom and Dad live happy lives!”
“Oh, Vincent…
you are the most thoughtful child I’ve ever met!”
His eyes reddened slightly.
“Professor McGonagall, it’s simply what I should do.”
McGonagall was visibly moved.
Her thoughts drifted toward Hogwarts regulations.
Owls belonging to the school technically weren’t allowed to become personal pets for students.
However— there was no rule against lending them out.
And if a student performed exceptionally well…
she felt giving a small reward wouldn’t be inappropriate.
“We’re here.”
Eric smoothly parked outside a pub on Charing Cross Road.
Small and shabby.
Those words perfectly described it.
Even the sign reading The Leaky Cauldron swayed slightly in the wind.
Right in front of his stunned parents, Vincent reached out and wiped a thick layer of dust off the front door.
“Wow, this place must be several hundred years old, right?”
McGonagall calmly pushed the door open.
“It has stood here since the early sixteenth century.”
“And after the International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy came into effect, it continued serving as the entrance that concealed Diagon Alley.”
The interior wasn’t much better than outside.
The slightly hunched bartender, Tom, was handing a filled mug to a customer— while his thumb was very obviously dipped inside the drink.
The moment Eric walked in, his eyelids twitched violently.
“Clean and hygienic.”
Those words instantly became his first impression of the magical world.
“Oh, Minerva—”
Tom greeted her warmly.
“As dedicated as ever, I see.”
“Just doing my duty.”
McGonagall exchanged pleasantries as if nothing unusual had happened.
“Hagrid already came through, didn’t he?”
“Yes.
He brought little Harry along.”
“You didn’t frighten him, I hope?”
“Of course not.”
Tom immediately swore it with confidence.
“Including those people…
I doubt there’s a wizard in all of Britain who’d dare scare him.”
McGonagall nodded.
Then she turned and introduced the Wayne family.