Chapter 8
A hideous, magical fire snake roared as it surged from the tip of Jerry's wand, pouncing toward "Cat" with a searing wave of heat!
For the first time, "Cat" frowned.
She obviously hadn't expected an eleven-year-old boy to cast such exquisite Dark Arts!
She didn't dare take it head-on and could only retreat repeatedly, dodging the fire snake's pursuit.
Now!
A cold glint flashed in Jerry's eyes; this was the opportunity he wanted!
He lunged forward, retracted his wand, and actually gave up on magic. With an explosive posture completely unbefitting his child identity, he charged directly at "Cat," who was still dodging the fire snake!
"Cat" clearly hadn't expected Jerry to suddenly abandon his greatest advantage and choose close-quarters combat with his weakest physical form! A flicker of bewilderment flashed in her eyes!
And Jerry seized that moment of bewilderment!
"Great Strength Technique!"
His small body crashed into "Cat's" embrace at an incredible angle!
Then, giving "Cat" no chance to react, he exerted sudden force with both arms, grabbing her soft and supple waist and slamming her whole body hard against the cold, hard wall nearby!
"Bang!"
"Cat" let out a muffled groan. The violent impact against the wall knocked the wind out of her, and the two short blades in her hands fell to the ground with a "clang!"
Jerry didn't let up!
He pressed his small head firmly against "Cat's" soft chest, preventing her from gathering strength. Simultaneously, he reached out his hands like iron pincers, pinning "Cat's" struggling wrists high above her head against the wall!
An eleven-year-old child, in an absolutely dominant posture, had pinned a lithe adult Witch against the wall!
This scene was filled with extreme absurdity and eeriness!
"You..." "Cat" was about to curse.
But Jerry suddenly looked up. His youthful face, still retaining some baby fat, was now filled with a near-insane ruthlessness completely inconsistent with his age!
He didn't speak, but instead used the most direct and primitive way to shut her mouth!
Chapter 4: A Taste of My Lips!
He kissed her fiercely!
It was a kiss full of aggression and possessiveness, devoid of any technique, more like a young beast asserting its ownership in the most primal way.
Jerry roughly used his teeth to pry open her lips and then his tongue...
Domineeringly and unquestionably, he pushed inside!
"Mmph...!"
"Cat's" eyes widened instantly!
She could clearly feel a youthful yet vibrant tongue...
...stirring, sweeping, and sucking wantonly inside her mouth!
An unfamiliar scent belonging to a boy...
...carrying a hint of milk and the smell of blood, instantly filled her nostrils!
Just then, a strange fluctuation of magic erupted from their closely pressed bodies!
"Cat's" originally petite and delicate body, just like Jerry's before, began to undergo a drastic change!
Her bones lengthened, her figure grew tall, and her originally ordinary face's features were rapidly reshaped, becoming exquisite and well-defined!
When the strange magical fluctuation subsided, the person Jerry had pinned against the wall was no longer the petite, plain-faced "Cat."
But a tall, stunning Witch in her early twenties with a bombshell figure!
Her long black hair cascaded down like a waterfall, accentuating her small, heart-shaped face and making it look even more enchanting.
Her narrow phoenix eyes curved slightly at the corners, naturally exuding charm with every glance.
Her nose was high, and her lips were full and plump, currently slightly red and swollen from that rough kiss, radiating a maddening, ravished sexiness.
Her figure was even more explosive!
Although she wore tight leather clothes designed for action under her seemingly tattered Wizard robes, the breathtaking curves could not be hidden!
The large, full breasts on her chest were squeezed by the tight leather into a deep, alluring cleavage. Her slender waist and firm, rounded buttocks formed an exaggerated and perfect "S" curve.
She, too, had been in disguise!
This violent, aggressive kiss did not last long.
The moment the Witch's tall and voluptuous body fully appeared because the Potion wore off, she could clearly feel Jerry's tongue, which had been ravaging her mouth, push a slippery, bean-sized soft capsule with its tip.
Before she could react to what it was, Jerry bit down hard with his teeth!
He bit her tongue!
A sharp sting came, and in her pain, the Witch instinctively closed her teeth too!
"Pop!"
That small soft capsule was instantly crushed between their entwined tongues and teeth!
A pungent, bitter liquid with a strong numbing sensation exploded in her mouth like a viper's venom, sliding down her throat into her esophagus!
Poison!
The Witch's phoenix eyes widened instantly, a flash of horror in their depths!
She finally understood the brat's intention! This kiss was never about humiliation or desire from the start; it was a trap containing deadly poison!
Just as she was about to circulate the magic in her body to force the poison out, Jerry made a new move!
His small hand, which had been pinning her wrist, slid down like a viper striking!
It bypassed her slender arm, brushed past her waist accentuated by the leather suit...
...and finally, in an unquestionable and possessive gesture, grabbed hard onto the large, firm peak on the left side of her chest!
"Mmph...!"
The Witch let out a muffled groan suppressed in her throat, a mix of pain and shame!
The boy's palm and that fully mature, astonishing fullness formed an extreme and visually impactful contrast!
Although Jerry's hand was small, his strength was surprisingly great!
The tight leather was deformed by his grip, stretching tightly over the full curve.
He could even clearly feel the incredible softness and elasticity beneath his palm.
Jerry's fingers suddenly tightened, ruthlessly kneading that mass of full, soft flesh!
Cat's body trembled, and in her daze, she lost her last chance to spit out the poison.
Having done all this, Jerry finally let go as if discarding a piece of trash, leaping back like a civet cat to a distance of three paces.
He stood there, quietly looking at her with eyes that were bone-chillingly cold and completely unbefitting his age.
The Witch leaned weakly against the wall, her chest heaving violently.
She could feel the rough sensation of the boy's touch lingering on her lips, the burning sting on her bitten tongue, and her left breast, which he had grabbed, felt as if it were on fire—the painful and numbing sensation of shame lingering for a long time.
More terrifyingly, the numbness had already begun to spread from her throat to her limbs.
She could feel the power in her body becoming sluggish and difficult to mobilize.
"You..." Her voice was somewhat raspy due to the poison's numbness and her overwhelming rage, "...what poison did you give me?"
"A poison to prevent you from ambushing me, but not enough to force you into a desperate struggle!"
Jerry said this in a flat tone, as if stating an obvious fact.
After speaking, he didn't give the Witch another look, as if this bombshell of a woman with a beautiful face was truly just an insignificant decoration pinned to the wall.
He turned around and walked toward the center of the room with his boyish short legs.
"You... you despicable little bastard!"
The Witch bit her ravaged, swollen lips and squeezed out this curse through her teeth. Her voice was somewhat slurred due to the poison, but the hatred within it was enough to freeze the air.
She wanted to struggle, to stand up straight against the wall, but her limbs felt like they were filled with lead—heavy, sluggish, and completely unresponsive.
Jerry turned a deaf ear to her curses.
He walked to the corpse of the fallen brute; the massive body was blocking his path.
He didn't choose to go around it but instead raised his small foot in a large boot and expressionlessly stepped right over the brute's thick arm.
The hem of his ill-fitting Wizard robes even got stained with a bit of the warm, undried blood from the corpse.
He finally reached the bulging leather bag, which contained wealth enough to drive anyone mad.
He reached out his small hand, still carrying some baby fat, grabbed the drawstring of the leather bag, took a deep breath, and yanked it upward!
The leather bag didn't budge.
There were too many Galleons inside, and they were too heavy; for an eleven-year-old boy's body, the weight was almost unbearable.
A look of annoyance finally appeared on Jerry's face, matching his current age.
Seeing this, a flicker of satisfaction flashed in the Witch's rage-filled phoenix eyes.
However, before that satisfaction could spread, it instantly turned into a deeper, heavier wariness!
Jerry let go and pulled out that unremarkable dead-twig wand again, pointing it lightly at the heavy leather bag.
He didn't even utter a single incantation.
The leather bag, filled with gold and heavy enough to crush an adult, rose lightly from the ground amidst a "clinking" of pleasant yet sinful metal, eventually hovering half a foot in the air, defying all laws of physics.
Non-verbal Spell!
And it was done so easily and skillfully!
The Witch's heart sank completely.
She finally realized that the person she had provoked was not a "kid" at all, but a total monster in the skin of a boy!
Jerry nodded in satisfaction.
He reached out and held the rope tied to the leather bag as if walking a docile pet dog filled with gold, unhurriedly walking back to the Witch.
The Witch's face was pale from the poison, but seeing the floating gold bag and the calmness in Jerry's eyes, she couldn't stop trembling. It wasn't from the cold, but from deep-seated fear.
An eleven-year-old boy performing a Non-verbal Spell so effortlessly surpassed her understanding of the wizarding world.
Jerry's gaze fell on the Witch's phoenix eyes, which were constricted with hatred and despair, without a single ripple of emotion. He shook the rope tied to the gold bag, and the "clinking" sound of metal was like a death knell in the Witch's ears.
"There's a curse on these gold coins."
Jerry got straight to the point, his tone as calm as if discussing dinner menu, "Lift it, and I'll give you the antidote."
Hearing this, the Witch's body jolted, and her vision, blurred by the poison, fixed intently on Jerry's face. She never expected this boy to see through the secret of the gold coins at a glance.
Her original plan was to use these gold coins to lure others and then use the power of the curse to slowly torture them to death.
"You... you're talking nonsense!" The Witch's voice was dry and raspy as she tried to deny it.
Jerry curled his lips contemptuously, a trace of mockery completely unbefitting his age appearing on his youthful face.
"Don't waste time."
"Your magical aura is identical to the source of the curse attached to these gold coins."
"If you really want relief, then behave yourself."
"Otherwise..."
He didn't continue, merely raising his dead-twig wand and pointing it at the Witch's throat.
Although he didn't chant, the Witch felt an invisible chill instantly lock onto her.
She knew this "monster" was definitely not joking.
The Witch's chest heaved violently as anger, resentment, and fear intertwined within her.
She had originally intended to kill Jerry but hadn't expected to be driven into a corner by him instead. But the instinct for survival eventually triumphed over her pride.
"Fine... I'll lift it!" she said through gritted teeth, each word squeezed out of her throat.
Chapter 9
Jerry nodded with satisfaction and withdrew his wand.
"Very good. Now, hold out your hand."
The Witch lifted her arm with difficulty, her fingertips trembling slightly.
Jerry did not give her the antidote directly; instead, he pulled a transparent glass bottle the size of a fingernail from the pocket of his Wizard robe.
Inside the bottle was a dark green, viscous liquid that emitted a faint, pleasant fragrance.
"This is 'Kiss of the Night.' It can temporarily suppress the toxins in your body, giving you enough strength to cast spells. But remember, it is only suppression, not a complete cure."
As he spoke, Jerry dropped a single drop of the liquid onto the Witch's fingertip.
The moment the dark green liquid touched her skin, the Witch felt an icy sensation spread instantly. Her previously stiff and sluggish limbs actually regained a faint sense of feeling, and the bone-deep paralysis eased slightly.
She could clearly feel that the toxins in her body were being temporarily restrained by some force.
"Now, begin," Jerry urged.
The Witch took a deep breath, forced herself to endure the discomfort in her body, and closed her eyes.
Her fingers interlaced in the air, and she began to silently chant a complex incantation.
Invisible magical fluctuations radiated from her body, swirling around the floating bag of Galleons.
The Dark Arts aura on the bag of Galleons began to churn violently, as if countless black snakes were slithering across its surface.
The clinking of metal coins became more rapid and chaotic, as if struggling under the constraints of the curse.
Fine beads of sweat seeped from the Witch's forehead, and her face grew paler, but she did not stop.
Jerry stood to the side, calmly observing everything.
After a while, with a weak low roar from the Witch, the floating bag of Galleons jolted violently. A barely perceptible black smoke rose from the bag, eventually dissipating into the air without a trace.
The Dark Arts aura on the bag of Galleons disappeared completely.
The Witch's body felt as if it had been drained of all strength. She leaned against the wall, gasping for breath, her bangs soaked with sweat and clinging tightly to her pale cheeks.
"It's... it's broken..."
Her voice was weak and exhausted, but carried a hint of imperceptible relief.
Jerry stepped forward and lightly touched the bag of Galleons with the tip of his wand.
After confirming that the curse had indeed been lifted, he pulled another small glass bottle from his pocket, which contained a pill emitting a faint halo.
"This is the real antidote."
Jerry handed the pill to the Witch, his tone flat, as if the previous threats and transaction had never happened. "You can go now."
The Witch stared blankly at the pill, a complex light flashing in her eyes.
She slowly reached out, took the pill, and swallowed it without hesitation.
The pill dissolved the moment it entered her mouth, and a warm current instantly flowed through her entire body. Her previously paralyzed and stiff limbs regained feeling at this moment, becoming even stronger than before.
The toxins in her body were completely cleared, and she felt unprecedentedly light.
She stretched her limbs and looked at Jerry again with those phoenix eyes. But this time, besides the lingering hatred, there was more of a deep wariness and an indescribable complexity in her eyes.
She truly could not understand this boy.
"You're not killing me?"
"Kill you? Tsk, your life-saving measure probably only activates after you die! Although the side effects are likely significant, it's not true death after all. Besides, I don't believe you can resurrect nine times like a cat. But most importantly, I don't want to go down with you. So, are you... going to leave or not?"
"We... will meet again."
The Witch bit her lower lip, coldly threw out this sentence, and then, dragging her tall and curvaceous figure, disappeared into the night without looking back.
Jerry ignored the Witch's "prophecy." He simply withdrew his wand calmly, led the floating cloth bag, and walked out of the house, which had already been completely looted, with the short strides characteristic of a boy, at an unhurried pace.
Outside the door, the night wind blew, rolling up the fallen leaves on the ground and making a rustling sound.
Jerry looked up at the silent night sky, a mysterious smile curling the corners of his mouth.
He led the lightly floating cloth bag and stepped into the deeper shadows of the alleyway, step by step. Everything around him seemed irrelevant; only the sound of Galleons clinking in the bag echoed in his ears, as pleasant as a lullaby.
Just as he was about to be completely swallowed by the darkness, a cold, mechanical voice rang directly in the depths of his mind, one that only he could clearly "hear."
The voice carried no emotion, yet possessed absolute authority, as if some high-dimensional existence was conveying its will to him.
"[Monthly Main Quest] Completed:'Secrets of Gringotts.' Quest settlement in progress... Family Prestige Points + 50, Galleons + 1000. Rewards have been deposited into your personal account."
Jerry's footsteps paused slightly, but the expression on his face did not change in the slightest.
This was the "System" notification he was familiar with. Every time he completed a quest issued by the "System," there would be such feedback.
"[New Monthly Main Quest] is being generated..." "[New Monthly Side Quest] is being generated..."
That cold voice continued to sound, with brief pauses, as if performing complex calculations and deductions.
A moment later, new quest instructions, accompanied by more detailed information, appeared before his eyes like a light screen and quickly faded away, leaving only the core content echoing in his consciousness.
"[Side Quest 1: Prelude to Taming the Little Wildcat]"
"Quest Description: On your path, some interesting 'variables' will appear. A 'little wildcat' with a fiery temper and unique magical talent is about to enter your field of vision. Her 'arrogance' needs to be properly 'trained' for future use."
"Quest Objective: Before Hogwarts starts, use non-magical means to make her have at least one more intense emotional fluctuation regarding you (anger, fear, extreme confusion, etc.), and make her completely remember your traits."
"Quest Rewards: Family Prestige Points + 20, Galleons + 200, obtained [Charm (Basic)] magic skill experience."
Soon, all the quest information was transmitted, and the voice in Jerry's mind returned to silence.
Chapter 5: Big Sister, are you an Auror?
He passed through several deserted alleys and then stopped in front of an inconspicuous stone wall.
Jerry reached out his small hand and gently stroked the wall. An invisible ripple instantly spread, and the originally solid stone wall rippled like water, revealing a dark, arched entrance.
He stepped inside, and the stone wall closed behind him, completely isolating him from the outside Muggle world.
Walking through a dim corridor, Jerry returned to the Rosier Family's private Castle—the ancient building he called "Black Feather Castle."
Although the Castle's exterior was simple and low-key, the interior was a different world, filled with an ancient magical aura and modern comfort and luxury.
As soon as he entered the main hall, the dim fireplace automatically ignited with a crackling flame, its warm light dispelling the chill of the night.
Under the tall, arched dome, magical oil lamps lit themselves, illuminating the entire hall brightly.
The air was filled with a faint scent of sandalwood and the fragrance of magical herbs, refreshing to the heart.
Jerry tossed the bag of Galleons into the air, and the bag wobbled and flew toward the study, clearly heading to its master—those Galleons—and their destination.
He walked with brisk steps toward a huge armchair in the center of the hall. The chair was carved from dark oak, with complex magic runes engraved on the back, and the surface was covered with a soft velvet cushion.
Climbing onto the chair, his small body was almost completely swallowed by the large armchair. He leaned comfortably against the back, looking up at the ceiling carved with star patterns.
This Black Feather Castle was once a symbol of the Rosier Family's prominent strength.
Centuries ago, it was designed and built by one of Jerry's distant ancestors, integrating the ancient magic defenses of a pure-blood family with a philosophy of luxurious living.
Towering turrets, solid stone walls—every brick and stone seemed to be imbued with the aura of magic.
The huge family portraits hanging in the main hall, depicting ancestors with sharp eyes and gorgeous clothing, silently recounted the family's former glory and honor.
However, today, these portraits were covered with a layer of faint dust, just like the entire Rosier Family, which, after experiencing that sudden change, had inevitably declined.
After Lord Voldemort fell and the Death Eaters were liquidated, Black Feather Castle, this ancient Castle that carried the blood and pride of countless generations of Rosiers, was almost the last shred of dignity left to the Rosier Family.
Although the Ministry of Magic had seized and frozen most of the Rosier Family's assets, due to the concealment of Black Feather Castle, its complex internal ancient magicarrays, and some clever family contracts, it could not be completely stripped away. Instead, after much political maneuvering, it was finally "legally" retained for Jerry, who was still in his infancy, almost as an act of charity.
It was both Jerry's last refuge and the only "base" he could control at the moment.
The House-elves who once served in the Castle had long been dismissed or had disappeared. The empty Castleseemed exceptionally cold and quiet, with only occasional faint humming from simple magical traps set by Jerry in the dead of night.
But for Jerry, this loneliness was actually an advantage.
Here, he could carry out his "Synthesis" grand undertaking without restraint, synthesizing powerful equipment bit by bit from the cheap magical junk he scavenged from Diagon Alley.
Just as Jerry was dozing off and preparing to take a nap, the dancing flames in the fireplace suddenly paused, making a soft "poof" sound.
Immediately after, a faint magical fluctuation came from outside the Castle; it was a sign that the defensive magicarray on the perimeter of Black Feather Castle had been triggered.
Jerry's eyes narrowed slightly. His small body straightened up from the armchair, his gaze looking sharply toward the tall floor-to-ceiling window in the main hall.
Outside the window, the night was deep, adorned with only a few points of starlight.
"Click!" A crisp impact sound broke the silence of the room.
A large, glossy-feathered brown magical owl had actually passed straight through the invisible defensive magic set on the window and landed lightly on the windowsill.
It held a letter made of thick parchment in its beak, and the envelope was clearly stamped with the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry crest.
The owl tilted its head, its amber eyes staring at Jerrywithout blinking, as if waiting for his response.
Jerry walked forward, took the letter from the little owl's beak, and then flicked its head lightly with his fingertip.
The owl gave a docile "coo," then flapped its wings and flew away, again ignoring the Castle's defensive magic, disappearing into the night sky.
He opened the envelope and scanned the contents on the parchment quickly.
At this moment, that cold and mechanical voice deep in his mind rang out again.
"[Monthly Mandatory Quest] Issued: 'Slytherin's Diadem'."
Jerry's breathing paused for an imperceptible moment.
"Quest Description: Hogwarts enrollment is a crucial step for every Wizard. You need to enter this school with an absolute advantage and demonstrate the true potential and value you possess."
"Quest Objective: 1. Achieve the overall first-place ranking in the entrance assessment before Hogwarts starts. 2. Successfully be sorted into Slytherin House by the Sorting Hat."
"Quest Rewards: Family Prestige Points + 100, Galleons + 5000, obtained [magic Control (Intermediate)] magicskill experience."
"Quest Failure Penalty: [Synthesis] function will be temporarily frozen until the next monthly quest is completed, and the magic attribute with the current highest level will be permanently reduced by 30%."
The cold penalty mechanism was like a bucket of cold water, causing a rare look of gravity to flash in Jerry's eyes.
Losing the short-term right to use [Synthesis] and permanently reducing a magic attribute by 30% was simply a devastating blow to the growth system he had carefully built.
All of his current strength was built on the absolute core status of [Synthesis].
He opened the envelope and scanned the contents on the parchment quickly. It was actually an acceptance letter to Hogwarts.
A trace of undisguisable astonishment appeared between Jerry's brows.
As a descendant of the pure-blood Dark Wizard Rosier Family, after Lord Voldemort fell and the Death Eaters were liquidated, the surname Rosier was almost synonymous with a taboo in the wizarding world.
Theoretically, an institution like Hogwarts, which took it upon itself to cultivate orthodox Wizards, could absolutely not send an enrollment invitation to a child of the Rosier Family. This simply overturned his understanding.
Chapter 10
He subconsciously closed his eyes, his mind sinking deep into his consciousness.
A translucent blue light screen appeared before his eyes; this was the system attribute panel that only he could see.
[Host: Jerry Rosier]
[Family Prestige: 76]
[Synthesis: lv.6 (Can synthesize primary magic items)]
[magic Affinity: 25 (Average)]
[Physique: 18 (Weak)]
[Spirit: 30 (Excellent)]
[Talent: Unidentified]
[Current Tasks: Hogwarts Entrance Assessment (Monthly Mandatory), Prelude to Taming the Little Wildcat (Side Quest)]
Jerry's gaze lingered on the "Family Prestige" column.
He remembered that this value had jumped from 56 to 76 after completing the last task.
He had never been clear about what exactly "Family Prestige" represented, only vaguely feeling that it could bring about some "influence."
With a thought, he clicked on the detailed explanation of "Family Prestige."
[Family Prestige: 70 (Above the 50-point threshold, special event triggered)]
[Description: Your Family Prestige has reached a certain level, allowing certain things that were originally impossible to find a turning point. Prestige points will subtly influence key characters related to you, causing their attitudes and judgments toward you to shift.]
[Current Prestige Point Influence Target: Professor McGonagall]
[Influence Details: 50 points of Family Prestige have successfully reversed Professor McGonagall's existing prejudice against the Rosier Family and caused her to hold a strongly supportive attitude toward your admission application.]
[Note: Professor McGonagall, a beautiful and rigorous mature woman, is particularly fond of the unique charm brought by high heels and stockings, but due to excessive spending, her daily expenses are too high, and living paycheck to paycheck has become a norm.]
When Jerry saw that last line of "Note," a trace of astonishment appeared on his youthful face.
His small lips parted slightly, and a complex look flashed in his eyes.
The system's influence was actually this specific, even presenting McGonagall's personal preferences precisely before his eyes.
Beautiful mature woman, high heels, stockings... these words quickly constructed the image of Professor McGonagall in his mind, not the Transfiguration ClassProfessor known for her strictness, but a woman with a touch of sexiness and mature charm.
He had to admit that the system's description of "influence" was straightforward to the point of being explicit, and also somewhat unexpected.
So the so-called "reversing prejudice" and "strong support" were actually presented in such a way with a hidden undertone. This gave him a deeper understanding of this world and the way the system operated.
This meant that his admission to Hogwarts was not a coincidence, but the result of the system working in the shadows.
His Family Prestige, like invisible threads, had quietly plucked at the heart of Professor McGonagall.
Jerry's gaze returned to the Hogwarts acceptance letter, his fingertips gently stroking the thick parchment.
The initial surprise had dissipated, replaced by a deep sense of calculation and anticipation.
Hogwarts, Slytherin, top of the class.
He put the letter away, a smile of certainty curling at the corners of his mouth.
Unlike ordinary wizarding families, the surname Rosiermeant he could not easily purchase all the necessities in Diagon Alley like other children.
Jerry walked to the huge fireplace in the main hall, carved from black marble.
Above the fireplace hung the crest of the Rosier Family—a silver snake coiled around a withered rose.
He grabbed a handful of dark green Floo Powder from an exquisite silver box on the mantelpiece and stepped into the cold fireplace without hesitation.
"Ministry of Magic, London."
He recited the destination in a clear and steady childish voice.
The next second, green flames engulfed his small figure with a "boom."
After a dizzying, high-speed journey, Jerry felt his feet go empty, then landed steadily on solid ground.
He elegantly brushed the ashes from his robes, looked up, and surveyed this center of power in the British wizarding world.
The atrium of the Ministry of Magic was spacious and magnificent, with dark polished wooden floors so shiny they were mirror-like, reflecting the constantly changing golden magic symbols on the ceiling.
The air was filled with the mixed scent of old parchment and some kind of Scouring Charm, and the surroundings echoed with the hurried footsteps and low conversations of Wizards.
Jerry ignored the curious gazes directed at him—a child appearing alone—and walked straight to the information desk responsible for public affairs.
Sitting behind the counter was a middle-aged Witch with half-moon glasses and a rigid expression.
She was burying her head in a pile of documents and asked without looking up, "What is it?"
"I'm here to purchase a ticket for the Hogwarts Express."
Jerry handed over the acceptance letter.
The Witch took the letter impatiently and glanced at it casually.
However, when her eyes touched the recipient's name on the envelope, her movements clearly paused.
"Jerry Rosier?"
She looked up, her eyes behind the lenses sharply scrutinizing the boy in front of her, her tone carrying undisguised vigilance and disgust.
"Someone from the House of Rosier?"
"Yes, Madam." Jerry answered calmly, as if he hadn't noticed the hostility in her tone.
The Witch's expression turned somewhat ugly; she checked the letter over and over again, as if trying to find traces of forgery on it.
She muttered, "This is ridiculous, how could Hogwarts..."
Eventually, she picked up her wand and tapped a crystal ball on the desk. A light screen appeared, displaying this year's list of new students. The Witch's fingers slid across the light screen, and soon, her movements stopped again, her face showing an even more confused expression than before.
Jerry's name was prominently listed. Not only that, but after his name was a special authorization emblem personally signed by the Transfiguration Class Professorand Deputy Principal of Hogwarts, Professor McGonagall.
"Professor McGonagall's... personal authorization?"
The Witch's voice was filled with disbelief.
She repeatedly confirmed that unique signature with its elegant cursive, and finally had to accept the fact.
Although she didn't understand why the highly respected Professor McGonagall would give the green light to a descendant of a notorious Death Eater family, the Ministry of Magic's regulations gave her no right to question it.
"Fine... everything... is in order."
She took a brand-new deep red ticket from the drawer and handed it to Jerry stiffly, as if the ticket were a hot potato.
"This is your ticket, September 1st, King's Cross Station, Platform 9 ¾. Don't be late."
"Thank you, Madam."
Jerry took the ticket and nodded politely.
He could clearly feel the scrutiny and confusion in the Witch's gaze, but he didn't care at all.
He turned and left, his small figure disappearing into the crowd coming and going in the Ministry of Magic.
Fingertips stroking the smooth ticket, Jerry's heart was calm.
Just as he was preparing to head to the fireplace to use the Floo Powder to leave, a sharp, piercing commotion came from the other end of the atrium, instantly breaking the originally orderly atmosphere within the Ministry of Magic.
"Give us back our gold! You bunch of incompetent Wizards!"
"The reputation of Gringotts has been tarnished! The Ministry of Magic must be held responsible for this!"
Jerry looked in the direction of the sound and saw a group of Goblins confronting several Ministry of Magic officials who were trying to maintain order.
The leader was an elderly Goblin, its beard braided into several small pigtails, its eyes flashing with sparks of anger and greed intertwined.
They were shouting angrily in Gobbledegook and broken but shrill English, protesting a vicious robbery that had occurred at Gringotts not long ago, and accusing the Ministry of Magic of being ineffective, having failed to catch the criminals to this day.
The surrounding Wizards stopped, whispering and pointing at the angry Goblins. The Ministry of Magicofficials appeared at a loss, only able to repeatedly use bureaucratic tones to appease them, but this was clearly adding fuel to the fire.
Jerry watched this scene with great interest, a cold smile that didn't match his age appearing on his youthful face.
Of course, he knew who had committed that robbery.
The chaos before him was just a small aftermath after delivering "warmth."
Just in the midst of this riot, a sharp and familiar aura made him pause his steps slightly.
He looked up and saw, at the other end of the atrium, a team of Wizards wearing dark blue Auror uniforms walking over quickly.
Leading them was that upright and heroic female captain.
Her steps were capable and powerful, her polished dragon-hide boots stepping on the polished floor, making a crisp and rhythmic "clack-clack" sound.
The meticulous uniform was worn by her to reveal tight curves, outlining the mature woman's powerful physique.
The hem of her robes swayed as she walked, and one could vaguely see the black stockings wrapping her long legs, shimmering with a faint, elusive glow under the magical lights, sexy yet full of inviolable dignity.
There was a hint of fatigue on her face, but those blue eyes were still as sharp as a hawk's, scanning everyone around her.
When her gaze inadvertently swept over Jerry, her steps subconsciously slowed for a moment.
The female Auror captain's brow furrowed imperceptibly.
Was it an illusion?
The boy in front of her looked to be only eleven or twelve years old, with soft golden hair and a face as exquisite as a young noble master.
He was wearing a well-tailored robe, his expression calm, even carrying a hint of the innocence unique to a child, as he politely waited to use the Floo Powder.
However, just in the split second their eyes met, she caught something from the depths of those black eyes that didn't belong to this age—something cold and profound.
That look...
Her heart tightened for no reason, and a scene she regarded as the greatest humiliation of her life uncontrollably surged from the depths of her memory—that middle-aged mysterious Dark Wizard, his eyes hidden under the shadow of his hood, had also revealed the same cold, all-seeing gaze.
Impossible!
The female captain immediately denied this absurd thought in her heart.
That man was powerful, evil, and had underhanded methods; he was an out-and-out adult Dark Wizard.
And the Jerry Rosier before her was just a child who had just received his Hogwarts acceptance letter.
Age, height, build, magical fluctuations... nothing matched.
Perhaps, just being from the Rosier Family, they both had similar arrogance and indifference flowing in their bones.
She persuaded herself this way.
After all, how could a child who looked at most eleven years old possess such terrifying strength and ruthless scheming?
Jerry took in the female captain's change of expression, his heart completely calm.
He knew what the other party was suspecting, but his real age—was the best camouflage.
He turned slightly, showing the female captain a polite smile that matched his age and was slightly curious, then stopped looking at her, as if he were just an ordinary little Wizard feeling awe toward a powerful Auror.
"An illusion?"
She withdrew her gaze and walked quickly past Jerry with her subordinates, that capable aura mixed with leather and a faint perfume scent sweeping past.
Jerry watched her upright back disappear at the end of the corridor, then reined in the smile on his face, his eyes returning to their calm, unruffled state.
He did not immediately use the Floo Powder to go home as originally planned, but turned and walked toward another exit leading to Diagon Alley.
Jerry walked through the backyard of the Leaky Cauldronand stepped into the bustling Diagon Alley.
He did not go to buy textbooks or cauldrons first, but walked straight to that narrow and dilapidated wand shop—Ollivander.
He pushed open the door, and in that shop filled with the scent of magic and dust, pretended to wait for the shopkeeper to appear, full of curiosity and awe.
And his peripheral vision, through the thick, dust-covered shop window, clearly captured a familiar figure.
That heroic female Auror captain, having somehow shed her subordinates, was standing alone at the street corner, pretending to browse the window of the Quality QuidditchSupplies shop casually, but her sharp gaze, from time to time, locked onto the entrance of Ollivander's wand shop through the gaps in the crowd.
Jerry sneered in his heart.
It seemed that after he left the Ministry of Magic, she had still gone to check his identity.
Jerry Rosier—this surname was enough to constitute the highest level of alert for any dutiful Auror.
Chapter 11
Even though he was only an eleven-year-old child.
He calmly completed the wand selection process and walked out of the shop with a wand made of Holly and Phoenix Feather.
Instead of immediately going to the next place, he was drawn to a shop selling magical pets, like a real child, and gazed at the display window for a long time.
Sure enough, the Captain also moved, stopping in front of a bookstore, pretending to browse a copy of "Advanced Potion-Making."
The prey had taken the bait; now, it was time to reel it in.
Jerry turned and walked towards "Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions" diagonally across the street.
He pushed open the door, and the shop's warm purple hues and the gentle whirring of measuring tapes made him feel comfortable.
The kind Madam Malkin was enthusiastically greeting another new student.
Jerry waited quietly, and a few minutes later, as he stepped onto the fitting stool, the bell-adorned shop door was pushed open again.
The female Auror Captain walked in.
She seemed to be trying to make her tracking appear more natural, with a "just browsing" expression on her face, her gaze sweeping over the elaborate robes on display.
Madam Malkin immediately recognized her, her face beaming with surprise and respectful smiles: "Oh, Merlin's beard!
Isn't this our Department of Magical Law Enforcement's most outstanding Captain Mina?
What brings you here today?"
A flicker of unnaturalness crossed the Captain's face, but she still nodded politely: "Good afternoon, Madam Malkin, I'm just… looking around."
Just then, Jerry, standing on the fitting stool, turned around and looked at her with a hint of timidity and a touch of expectation in his eyes, his clear childish voice sounding at just the right moment:
"Hello, are you an Auror?" His voice was filled with a child's adoration for heroes. "Um… excuse me, could you help me? My guardian isn't here, and I… I'm not sure which style of robe is most suitable for a Hogwarts new student."
My guardian isn't here, and I… I'm not sure which style of robe is most suitable for a Hogwarts new student."
He placed himself in the most harmless, most in-need-of-help position, actively inviting the hunter.
The Captain's expression instantly froze.
She looked at the boy with his small face tilted up, his eyes sparkling with innocent light, and for a moment, she didn't know how to respond. All her suspicion and vigilance seemed somewhat absurd and laughable in the face of his pure and direct request.
Almost at the same moment, a cold system notification sound suddenly rang in Jerry's mind.
[Ding! Daily quest refreshed!]
[Quest Name: An Actor's Self-Cultivation]
[Quest Objective: In the upcoming interaction, completely dispel the female Auror Captain's suspicions about you, making her believe you are just a harmless, hero-worshipping ordinary boy.]
[Quest Reward: Family Prestige +10.]
[Failure Penalty: Your identity will be reported to the Ministry of Magic's Department of Security, officially listed as a high-risk surveillance target, triggering the prerequisite for "Juvenile Wanted Criminal."]
Chapter 6: Does it taste good, Captain Mina?
Captain Mina, the female Auror, clearly hadn't expected her carefully disguised surveillance to be actively broken by the target in this manner.
She looked at those exceptionally clear eyes, feeling somewhat flustered for a moment.
"Good day, Madam Malkin."
She composed herself, first politely responding to the shop owner, then turning her gaze back to the boy on the stool, forcing a gentle smile onto her face. "My name is Mina Shacklebolt, an Auror from the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.
Is there anything I can help you with, young sir?"
Before Jerry could answer, Madam Malkin, beside them, opened her floodgates, introducing Mina in a proud, effusive tone:
"Young sir, you have excellent judgment!
Madam Mina is no ordinary Auror; she is our Ministry of Magic's youngest and most promising Auror Captain!
Back in the day, her father, the renowned Mr. Aurum Shacklebolt, followed Headmaster Dumbledore to defeat He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named in that great war, and after that, he led teams to clear countless Death Eater remnants and Dark Wizard families. The Shacklebolt familydeserves immense credit for the peaceful days we enjoy today!"
Madam Malkin continued, gesturing with her measuring tape around Jerry, her voice filled with respect for heroes. "Madam Mina has completely inherited her father's excellent qualities, solving several major cases at a young age, and is a role model for all young Wizards!"
Mina showed a hint of helplessness; she was clearly uncomfortable with such excessive praise but maintained her politeness, saying to Madam Malkin: "Madam, you flatter me."
Her gaze returned to Jerry, her tone much softer: "You said… you need help choosing a robe?"
Jerry nodded vigorously, a grateful smile on his face: "Yes, Ms. Shacklebolt.
There are too many robe styles here, and I'm afraid of choosing the wrong one that doesn't comply with school regulations."
His tone was sincere and carried a child's unique softness, making it impossible to refuse.
Mina's defenses almost completely melted away at that moment.
Her original suspicions now seemed like malicious conjectures about an innocent child. She chuckled softly and said, "That's nothing difficult.
New student robes are usually the most basic style. Come with me, I'll take you to try them on."
"Thank you so much!" Jerry cheered, jumping off the fitting stool.
Mina led Jerry towards the changing room.
Madam Malkin followed behind, smiling, and pulled open the curtain for them.
The moment they entered the changing room and the curtain fell, Jerry moved like a phantom.
His small hand swept into his pocket, and a tiny pinch of almost invisible, stardust-like powder appeared on his fingertips.
It was a special powder he had concocted himself, mixed with a small amount of Amortentia, colorless and odorless, which would rapidly absorb upon skin contact.
It wouldn't cause love, but it could subtly enhance others' goodwill towards him and amplify their subconscious desires.
The powder scattered like fine dust, and with Jerry's nimble movements, it landed entirely on Mina's skin.
The colorless and odorless powder, upon touching Mina's warm skin on the back of her hand, dissolved instantly like snowflakes in warm water, leaving no trace.
Mina was completely unaware, but an inexplicable sense of comfort quietly enveloped her.
She took a deep breath, feeling that the air in the changing room, mixed with the fresh scent of new fabric and the faint smell of soap from the boy, seemed particularly pleasant.
She looked around; it wasn't her first time at Madam Malkin's shop, but each time, she couldn't help but marvel at the ingenuity of the magical changing room.
This small space, separated by thick velvet curtains, was enchanted with clever Spatial Extension Charms, making it much more spacious than it appeared from the outside, with no feeling of confinement.
Moonstones embedded in the walls emitted a soft, bright glow, capable of simulating candlelight at a banquet, winter afternoon sunlight, or even moonlight by the Black Lake, allowing guests to examine how robes looked in different lighting.
More importantly, it was enchanted with top-tier Silencing Charms; once the curtain was drawn, all external noise was blocked, providing absolute privacy for guests.
Mina looked at Jerry's innocent face, and her last shred of professional Auror vigilance quietly disintegrated in this absolute privacy and comfort.
She smiled gently, with a hint of adult pride in showing a child something new and wonderful.
"Every new student who comes here for the first time gets to see something special,"
She winked, then raised her hand and lightly waved it at an antique oak wardrobe in the corner of the changing room.
The wardrobe doors slid open silently. Inside, instead of rows of hanging or folded clothes, there was a soft, golden glow like the morning sun.
Then, the most wondrous scene unfolded.
A brand new, crisply starched white shirt floated gracefully out of the light, suspended in mid-air. Its collar automatically folded perfectly, and a row of buttons seemed to be controlled by an invisible hand, fastening themselves one by one from bottom to top with a series of subtle, crisp "clicks."
Following this, a grey V-neck sweater also floated out, gently folding itself over the white shirt, its collar perfectly aligned.
The most interesting was the tie.
Like a living snake, it "swam" out of the golden light, twisting nimbly in front of Jerry.
Its color rapidly cycled between Gryffindor's scarlet and gold, Hufflepuff's yellow and black, Ravenclaw's blue and bronze, and Slytherin's green and silver, as if showcasing all its possibilities.
Finally, it settled on a neutral charcoal grey, tying itself into a perfect and handsome Windsor knot in mid-air.
Last to appear was the plain black robe, representing a Hogwarts new student. It floated out slowly, spreading its sleeves in the air as if to embrace someone, then performed an elegant spin, folding itself perfectly and hovering by Mina's hand, awaiting its new owner.
Jerry perfectly portrayed the reaction of an eleven-year-old boy.
He appropriately widened his mouth, his eyes sparkling with genuine wonder and admiration, as if completely captivated by the magic of this world.
Seeing his expression, the warmth in Mina's heart intensified.
The lingering clouds of suspicion about his identity had now completely vanished.
This was just a boy, a pitiable yet adorable child yearning for the magical world. She felt a touch of guilt for her earlier suspicions.
"Alright, little sir, mesmerized as you are," her voice carried a hint of fondness and playfulness she hadn't even noticed herself, "the magic show is over. Now, it's your turn to try them on for size."
Jerry took off his ill-fitting Muggle jacket.
The moment the jacket slipped off, Mina's breath hitched for a second.
The sight before her was completely different from the slender body she had imagined an eleven-year-old boy would have.
The boy's frame was well-proportioned and tall, his shoulders already showing some of the straight contours of an adult male.
Through his close-fitting old T-shirt, she could clearly see the undulating, smooth, and firm muscle lines of his chest and abdomen.
It wasn't exaggerated muscle mass from deliberate training, but rather an elegant, explosive physique, like that of a leopard.
Youthfulness and strength formed a strange and captivating contrast on him.
However, what made Mina's heart tremble even more was the noticeably faded, collar-worn undershirt he wore, and the old underwear tightly stretched over his legs due to its small size.
A strong feeling of pity instantly surged into Mina's heart.
She suddenly remembered the boy's identity—the son of a deceased Dark Wizard, secretly monitored by the Ministry of Magic.
Her professional defenses, once as solid as a fortress, were breached by a huge gap at this moment by the pity mixed with the effects of the potion.
"Here, I'll help you."
Mina's voice carried a tenderness she herself hadn't noticed. "This new student uniform has a few steps to put on; don't get it wrong."
She naturally took the old shirt Jerry had removed, then picked up the brand new white shirt and personally buttoned it for him.
When Mina's fingertips occasionally brushed against the boy's warm, firm chest, she felt her cheeks flush slightly.
As she helped Jerry put on the brand new black trousers, a decisive turning point occurred.
When Mina crouched down to pull up his trousers, in order to tuck his shirt hem into the waistband, her hand inevitably reached deeper.
At that very moment, her palm, completely unprepared, pressed against something.
Something… utterly beyond her imagination, enormous.
Her movements instantly froze. What the Merlin MerlinMerlin were you doing there…
Through that thin layer of cotton underwear, she could clearly feel a majestic object, completely inconsistent with a boy's eleven years of age, quietly resting between his legs.
It was thick, substantial, and full of wild vitality, even in its soft state, still bulging with an astonishing, heavy outline.
Mina's entire palm was almost taken up by its massive size, and beneath her fingertips came a burning warmth and a firm yet elastic touch.
This… this was simply not something a boy should possess.
A sudden rush of heat instantly rose from her abdomen, sweeping through her entire body.
Mina's cheeks instantly turned crimson, her heart pounding like a drum.
Her mind went blank, her instincts telling her to pull her hand back immediately as if burned, but the strange, powerful sensation beneath her palm seemed to hold a magic that rendered her immobile.
"Madam… what's wrong?"
Jerry let out a perfectly timed, suppressed gasp, trembling with shyness, his body also quivering slightly.
This apology, filled with a teenager's embarrassment, acted like a catalyst, completely shattering Mina's last line of defense.
Mina looked at the boy's flushed cheeks and helpless eyes, and the pity, shock, and a newly awakened, strange and guilty desire furiously intertwined within her.
"Nothing!"
Not only did Mina not withdraw her hand, but as if to confirm, her fingers unconsciously curled slightly.
That grasp made her feel the astonishing size and weight of the object even more clearly.
Mina's breathing became somewhat rapid. She forced herself to look away, but her voice, due to her desperate attempt to suppress her emotions, sounded a little dry: "This one… is too old.
All clothing on the Hogwarts supply list should be new.
Come, take it off; Madam Malkin surely has spares."
Her reason sounded impeccable, full of good intentions for a poor boy.
Jerry's face turned even redder, he lowered his head, his voice as faint as a mosquito's buzz: "…Okay."
He obediently turned his back to Mina, somewhat clumsily pulling down his faded old underwear.
Section 12
As the last sliver of fabric slipped away, the tightly bound giant finally revealed itself in the warm air, exposed completely before Captain Mina's eyes.
It was even thicker and more magnificent than what Captain Mina had felt earlier through the fabric.
That flesh root, which did not resemble a child's, showed signs of awakening due to the earlier touch, hanging half-erect between Jerry's legs.
Under the influence of the potion, Captain Mina's throat went dry instantly.
A shudder born from feminine instinct, a mixture of fear and desire, shot from the base of her spine straight to her brain.
Driven by an impulse she couldn't explain, she reached out. This time, there was no fabric in the way.
Her warm fingertips lightly brushed against the scorching tip of that flesh root.
"Mmm..." Jerry's body jerked violently, and he let out an irrepressible groan from his throat.
Captain Mina felt encouraged, and her courage grew.
Her palm slowly wrapped around the astonishing shaft; the sensation beneath her fingertips was hard as iron, and the temperature was frighteningly high.
At that moment, Jerry's sensitive body could no longer withstand this strange, extreme stimulation.
His waist arched sharply, and a scorching torrent erupted from the tip without warning, shooting straight ahead!
Captain Mina's reaction speed as an Auror was fully displayed at this moment.
Before her brain could even process the thought, her hand had already moved instinctively!
She curled her fingers, palm facing upward like a small bowl, precisely catching all of the gushing, thick, turbid liquid in her palm!
The warm, sticky sensation instantly filled her palm.
"Ah! Madam, I'm sorry! I... I didn't mean to!"
Jerry's panicked shout, laced with a sob, sounded jarringly loud in the absolute silence of the fitting room.
The sound pierced through the Silencing Charm and carried clearly to the outside.
"Captain Mina? Is everything alright in there? What happened?" Madam Malkin's concerned voice came immediately from outside the curtain, accompanied by the sound of rapid footsteps; it seemed she would pull back the curtain and enter the next second.
Captain Mina's heart instantly leaped into her throat!
She looked at the pool of milky-white, thick liquid in her palm, which emitted a slightly salty, fishy scent, and her brain raced.
This stuff was so conspicuous; there was no way to clean it up immediately!
If Madam Malkin saw a female Auror holding... the consequences would be unimaginable!
Her future, her reputation, and even the glory of the Shacklebolt family would be destroyed in this instant!
Seeing that the curtain was about to be pulled back, she could already see the light filtering in from outside.
At this critical moment, Captain Mina made a decision so insane that even she couldn't believe it.
Without the slightest hesitation, she quickly brought her palm to her mouth. In the second before the curtain was fully pulled back, she tilted her head up, closed her eyes, and swallowed all the sticky, warm liquid in her palm!
The slightly salty, fishy scent and the warm, sticky sensation spread across Captain Mina's tongue, and a wave of nausea mixed with humiliation and absurdity rushed straight to her stomach.
But at this moment, her mind was exceptionally clear, and all her senses were focused on the curtain that was about to be drawn back.
The curtain was pulled back with a "whoosh."
Madam Malkin leaned half her body in, her face full of concern: "Captain Mina, I thought I heard..."
"It's nothing." Captain Mina interrupted her almost immediately.
She turned her body slightly, cleverly blocking Madam Malkin's view of Jerry's lower body.
She forced a calm smile onto her face, but her overly flushed cheeks and slightly rapid breathing still betrayed a hint of unnaturalness.
"The child was careless just now and bumped his knee on the edge of the fitting stool; he was just startled."
Captain Mina's voice was steady; it sounded like she was stating a perfectly ordinary, trivial matter.
Jerry was also an expert at this; he immediately sniffed in cooperation, one hand clutching his knee, the other gripping Captain Mina's robe tightly, looking like a poor, frightened child seeking comfort.
Upon seeing this, Madam Malkin understood immediately.
Her gaze towards Captain Mina was full of trust; she had not the slightest suspicion.
In her view, this was completely reasonable and logical.
Who was Captain Mina Shacklebolt?
How could such a renowned young Auror do anything inappropriate to an eleven-year-old child?
The fact that she was willing to personally accompany the child to try on clothes was already a great act of kindness.
It was perfectly normal for her to offer comfort when a boy bumped himself.
"Oh, I see. Then you must be careful." Madam Malkin was relieved, and her tone became kindly again.
Her gaze fell on Jerry's bare legs, and she remembered the task at hand: "Look at me, I completely forgot. This young gentleman still needs a pair of well-fitting underpants. Captain Mina, please wait a moment; I will go and fetch a few of the most comfortable and breathable dragon-hide cotton blends for him to choose from."
Having said that, she smiled and backed out, pulling the curtain shut behind her.
In the fitting room, the suffocating silence returned. The noise from the outside world was shut out, leaving only the sound of their clearly audible breathing.
The crisis was temporarily averted. Captain Mina stood with her back to Jerry, slowly straightening up.
She closed her eyes, her throat bobbing involuntarily as she swallowed down another bit of that unique taste belonging to a boy that still lingered in her mouth.
What... had she just done? She had swallowed a boy's...
This thought struck Captain Mina's soul like a bolt of cold lightning. She opened her eyes abruptly and looked at the boy, who was still lowering his head with his body trembling slightly, while a storm raged in her heart.
Shame, horror, guilt... and a hint of morbid excitement that she dared not even admit to herself.
She forced herself to calm down. She was Captain MinaShacklebolt, an elite Auror of the Ministry of Magic; she could handle any emergency.
"Listen!" Her voice was a bit hoarse but exceptionally calm. "Jerry, that was... just an accident. You are still young, your body is developing, and this is a normal physiological reaction; you don't need to feel afraid or ashamed."
With a calm tone, as if explaining a theory of magic, she downplayed this absurd event that could have overturned both their lives, defining it simply as an "accident."
Jerry looked up at her timidly and nodded.
Captain Mina pulled a clean handkerchief from her pocket, crouched down, and with somewhat stiff movements, helped Jerry wipe away the remaining traces between his legs.
When the handkerchief touched that thing, which had begun to soften but was still of a frightening size, her fingertips still trembled involuntarily.
After the cleaning was done, Madam Malkin happened to walk back in with a few brand-new pairs of underpants.
The following process went incredibly smoothly. With an almost professional eye, Captain Mina quickly selected the most suitable size for Jerry.
However, things did not end there.
"Madam!" Captain Mina said to Madam Malkin, her tone brooking no argument. "In addition to this standard school uniform, please prepare a thick winter cloak for this young gentleman, a set of robes for formal occasions, and two sets of casual robes for daily wear. Use only the best materials."
Madam Malkin was a bit surprised, but seeing Captain Mina's determined gaze, she went to do it immediately.
When a large pile of beautifully packaged clothing was brought to the counter, Jerry quickly pulled a flat coin purse from his pocket, wanting to pay.
"That's enough, young gentleman." A warm hand pressed down on his coin purse. It was Captain Mina.
"These are on me." Captain Mina looked at Jerry, her eyes complex. "Consider it... a start-of-term gift from an elder to a promising junior."
She didn't know what mindset she was in—was it pity, guilt, or some subconscious desire to compensate for the crazy act from just moments ago?
Captain Mina only knew that she had to do this.
After saying this, she calmly took out her Galleons and paid the entire bill.
The two of them carried large bags and small as they walked out of the robe shop. When they parted at the door, Captain Mina gave Jerry a deep look.
"Study hard at school, Jerry." She said, "We... will see each other next time."
Having said that, she turned and quickly disappeared into the crowd, her retreating figure even carrying a hint of haste, as if she were fleeing.
Jerry stood in place, watching her leave; the innocent and naive expression on his face gradually faded, replaced by a deep smile inconsistent with his age.
It was at this moment that the cold and familiar system notification sound rang in his mind.
[Ding! Task completed!]
[Task Name: An Actor's Self-Cultivation]
[Task Objective: In the following interaction, completely dispel any suspicion the female Auror Captain has of you, making her believe you are just a harmless, hero-worshipping ordinary boy. (Achieved)]
[Task Reward: Family Prestige + 10.]
[Penalty: Identity reported to the Ministry of MagicDepartment of Magical Law Enforcement, formally listed as a high-risk surveillance target. (Avoided)]
"Is it tasty?"
"Ms. Mina!"
Chapter 7: Madam, you wouldn't want the Ministry of Magic to know about your deal with the Dark Wizard, would you!
Sunlight spilled onto the cobblestone streets of Diagon Alley, bustling with people coming and going.
Jerry's face was once again adorned with that innocent and naive expression, his eyes filled with just the right amount of curiosity and excitement.
Pushing a cart loaded with clothes, he headed straight for that massive building piled high with books—Flourish and Blotts.
Just as he reached the entrance of the bookstore, a wave of unstable magic surged toward him, and there was a faint smell of something burning in the air.
A few young Wizards who looked about his age were gathered there, all of them red-faced and straining, seemingly trying out some kind of spell.
One of them was a round-faced girl with bushy blonde hair.
She was holding her wand, striving to cast a spell on "The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 1" on a display shelf.
However, her magic was clearly still in the beginner stage and very unstable.
"Levitation..." Hannah shouted, but the tip of her wand spewed out a crooked trail of purple smoke. Instead of hitting the bookshelf, it made a "bang" sound, grazed past Jerry's ear, and struck the cart selling quills nearby.
Jerry felt the magical fluctuation but did not dodge.
Because he wasn't sure if Captain Mina had gone far enough away.
Although the system said Captain Mina no longer suspected him, what if she did?
So he didn't dodge.
But, even though he didn't actively dodge, it didn't hit him.
He pretended to be jolted by the magical impact, his body swaying, and the cart in his hand nearly slipped away.
He widened his eyes, a look of being startled appearing on his face.
But the next second, his body moved before he could think, rushing straight toward the quill cart.
Fire!" he exclaimed, his voice filled with the panic characteristic of a young boy.
The shopkeeper selling quills was waving his wand in a flurry, trying to extinguish the flames with an "Aguamenti," but he was clearly flustered, and his spellcasting was intermittent.
Jerry was quick-witted; he grabbed a burlap sack filled with sequins and beads from nearby, not caring whose goods they were, and hurled it at the smoking quill cart.
With a few "crackling" sounds, the sequins and beads inside the bag scattered, but the burlap sack itself landed precisely on the quills that were catching fire, cutting off the air supply and immediately suppressing the flames.
The shopkeeper paused for a moment, then gave Jerry a grateful look and finally succeeded in casting "Aguamenti." A stream of clear water accurately poured onto the embers, extinguishing the last trace of smoke.
"Thank you!" the shopkeeper said, panting.
"It was nothing!" Jerry brushed the dust off his hands and gave the shopkeeper a slightly shy yet sensible smile.
At this moment, the round-faced girl named Hannahwalked over to Jerry, her cheeks flushed bright red, and her eyes filled with obvious guilt.
"I'm sorry... I didn't mean to. My spells are always a bit... disobedient," she explained, stuttering, her gaze cast uneasily on the ground.
Jerry tilted his head, his innocent eyes sparkling, without a hint of blame.
He looked at the wand in Hannah's hand, then curiously at the charred cart, his face full of infinite yearning for magic.
"It's okay! Is this your wand? It's so pretty!"
He lowered his voice, but loud enough for the surrounding young Wizards to hear, with just the right amount of awe and admiration in his tone, "It's my first time seeing such an amazing spell! The Patronus Charm sounds so cool!"
Hannah Abbott was caught off guard by his words; the guilt on her face diminished slightly, replaced by a trace of small pride.
"This... this isn't the Patronus Charm, that's something only upper-year students can learn," she defended herself in a whisper, blushing. "I just wanted to... wanted to try the Levitation Charm..."
She pointed to the copy of "The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 1" on the display shelf, looking very annoyed with herself.
Jerry blinked, his eyes shining even brighter.
"Wow! The Levitation Charm is super amazing too! You'll definitely become a great Wizard!"
He comforted her with feigned innocence, his eyes filled with sincere admiration for this "pioneer," as if in his eyes, even a failed spell was full of extraordinary charm. "I'm Jerry, what about you?"
Hannah's embarrassment was completely washed away by his kindness and praise; she lifted her head and revealed a shy smile.
"My name is Hannah Abbott."
She extended her hand and shook Jerry's hand sincerely. "Thank you, Jerry. If it weren't for you, those quills might have burned up."
When Jerry held her small hand, he could feel the faint, thin sweat on her palm from nervousness.
He looked up and finally took a real, careful look at the girl in front of him.
Hannah Abbott? Neville Longbottom's wife? Tsk tsk tsk, she really is a beauty in the making.
Her round cheeks still held a trace of undiminished baby fat, and paired with fluffy, short blonde hair that looked like a soft halo in the sunlight, she looked like an exquisite doll.
Her features were soft, and her light brown eyes were as clear as a stream in the woods. When her thick, fan-like golden eyelashes fluttered, they carried a hint of bewildered shyness.
When she smiled, she would reveal two small, rabbit-like front teeth, cute and innocent.
However, Jerry's gaze could always easily catch the details hidden beneath the surface.
A breeze passing through the alley just happened to lift a corner of her simple robes.
In that brief moment, Jerry saw that beneath the robe, the young girl was not wearing ordinary cotton socks, but a pair of form-fitting white sheer pantyhose.
The pantyhose tightly wrapped around her slender and well-proportioned calves, outlining soft yet already developing leg lines that extended upward, disappearing into the deeper shadows of the robe.
This created a subtle and enticing contrast with the innocent childishness on her face.
"It's a pleasure to meet you, beautiful Miss Hannah."
"Thank you!"
Just as Hannah Abbott's smile bloomed like a flower and the two were about to say something more, a crisp, rhythmic "clack, clack" sound approached from afar, striking the cobblestone street with an arrogance that could not be ignored.
This sound attracted the attention of everyone around. Jerry and Hannah also looked toward the source of the sound.
They saw a noblewoman leading a young blonde boy, walking gracefully toward Flourish and Blotts.
The noblewoman was dressed in a dark green velvet robe, tailored to fit, wrapping her mature, voluptuous figure perfectly.
She walked slowly, every step seemingly calculated with precision, wearing sharp, high heels that made her already tall figure appear even more upright.
Her face carried a trace of the detached aloofness peculiar to aristocrats, but her slightly raised brow bones inadvertently revealed a charm that only a mature woman could possess.
When her gaze occasionally swept across the surroundings, it was as if she were inspecting her own territory, and also as if she were silently declaring her own allure.
A breeze blew by, blowing open a corner of her wide robe hem, revealing the slender, beautiful calves and ankles wrapped in pantyhose inside. The luster of the pantyhose flashed in the sunlight, appearing both noble and sexy.
The boy following her perfectly inherited that family-style arrogance.
He held his pointed chin up, his pale face full of disgust, as if everything in Diagon Alley was unbearable to him.
When he saw Hannah and Jerry, that disgust became even more specific.
"What is that smell? A scent of burnt chicken feathers."
Malfoy's voice was sharp and mean. He sniffed exaggeratedly with his nose, his gaze piercing directly at Hannah, "Oh, so it's someone from the Abbott family practicing magic here. What's wrong, your dad doesn't have the money to buy you a decent spellbook, so you have to sneakily learn at the store entrance?"
Hannah's cheeks, which had just regained their color, turned pale again. She certainly knew Malfoy. Although Hannah was a half-blood Wizard, she came from an ancient Wizard family.
She subconsciously took a half-step back, her lips moving, but she couldn't say a word, only bowing her head.
Malfoy gave a contemptuous "snort," then turned his gaze to Jerry. He looked Jerry up and down, his eyes like he was evaluating the value of an item.
"Where did you come from?" His tone was full of undisguised mockery. "Looking at these robes of yours, it's like they were just picked up from a second-hand shop. What, are your parents Mudbloods, or not even Wizards? Hanging out with the Abbott family, you two are quite a match."
From beginning to end, Narcissa did not say a word. She simply stopped and watched this little farce before her with a condescending air, a nearly invisible, approving smile playing on the corner of her lips.
Jerry did not shrink back like Hannah. The House of Malfoy. Just humble fence-sitters.
Oh right! It seems that in the IOUs left behind by that cheap, dead old man, there was an IOU from the House of Malfoy. Isn't that a coincidence?
"You are truly impolite, but unfortunately, my clothes do not come from a second-hand shop." Jerry's tone was calm, carrying a hint of the stubbornness characteristic of a young boy.
He extended his finger and pointed to his chest, where an inconspicuous emblem pattern was embroidered. Although aged, its complex patterns and ancient style still revealed a bit of past glory. "I am Jerry Rosier, and this is our family crest."
Rosier. As soon as this name was spoken, it exploded like a thunderclap in this small corner of Diagon Alley.
The faces of the few young Wizards around who vaguely heard it instantly froze with shock and a hint of undisguised fear.
Hannah Abbott's face lost all its color in a "whoosh." The hand she had been tightly gripping Jerry's with now loosened unconsciously, and she even took a step back, her eyes filled with panic. In the gaze she directed at Jerry, the innocence was gone, replaced only by unexpected terror.
The House of Rosier—it was the only Pureblood family that had been completely purged and nearly wiped out due to their involvement in the Dark Arts! Its reputation in the Wizarding world was certainly not a pleasant memory.
However, no one's reaction was as swift and profound as Narcissa Malfoy's.
Her cold blue eyes contracted sharply the moment she heard the surname "Rosier," and a visible ripple of emotion flashed deep within them.
The previous aloofness and the playful amusement at her son's sharp tongue were like encountering a cold wind, instantly blown away.
Narcissa's gaze was no longer a casual glance, but carried a sense of distant thoughts and a hint of imperceptible nostalgia, tracing every detail on Jerry's young, tender face, as if trying to look through this childish countenance to find the shadow of an old acquaintance.
Jerry's dark, clear eyes and his thin, fragile frame, which feigned strength, were so much like the miniature of a deceased figure.
"Rosier..." Narcissa's voice became very soft, carrying a ethereal quality, as if it were coming from the depths of a distant memory.
She clearly remembered Jerry's father, that friend who was once high-spirited at Hogwarts alongside her brother, Severus.
She had even cried secretly in a corner at their wedding, over a youthful, unrequited love.
Even years later, when she had married Lucius and become the mistress of the House of Malfoy, she would occasionally think of that figure in the middle of the night.
However, standing before her at this moment was a boy dressed in ordinary clothes, so thin he looked as if a gust of wind could blow him over.
She was jealous. She was jealous that Jerry possessed the complete bloodline of that man.
This was a twisted and secret emotion that made her want to tear this piece of "purity" before her to shreds, and coat it with the contempt and arrogance peculiar to the House of Malfoy.
"Rosier!" Narcissa repeated, her voice returning to its usual coldness, but in that flat tone, a disdain peculiar to those in high positions was faintly revealed.
She stepped forward gracefully, her sharp high heels clicking crisply once more, walking straight up to Jerry, casting a huge shadow like a high tower.
She leaned forward slightly; this gesture should have been full of kindness. However, the range of her movement was somewhat large.
As she moved, the dark green velvet robe opened slightly at the neckline, revealing a large expanse of snow-white skin on her chest. That skin was full and round, appearing and disappearing with the slight rise and fall of her breathing.
She could even feel the soft, full curve forming an enticing silhouette as her body's center of gravity shifted downward.
In the air, a faint scent of a mature woman seemed to permeate.
This was a silent, oppressive demonstration, and even more so, a humiliation carrying the temptation of a ripe fruit.
Narcissa's long, slightly calloused fingers gently lifted Jerry's chin, her tone carrying a hint of casual coldness: "I was an old acquaintance of your parents. Since you are the son of an old acquaintance, for the sake of past ties, the House of Malfoy is not entirely unable to provide you with some help... for instance, gifting you some decent robes."
She paused, a curve appearing on her lips, her eyes staring straight at Jerry, as if trying to see through him: "After all, the House of Rosier... heh, is now left with nothing."
Jerry, his chin held by those cold fingertips, was forced to meet her gaze of indifferent, slightly playful blue eyes.
He smelled the perfume on her, and saw that dazzling white deep within her neckline. There was not a hint of shyness or embarrassment on his tender face; his pair of pitch-black eyes were like stars in the night sky, calm enough to be alarming.
He nimbly brushed Narcissa's hand away, the movement polite yet firm, without a trace of hesitation.
He looked straight at the arrogant woman before him, speaking word by word. Although his voice was young, it was resonant: "Left with nothing?"
His gaze seemed to pierce through Narcissa's gorgeous robes and her exquisite jewelry, looking toward a more distant place.
"Respected Madam Malfoy, I remember..."
A curve, inconsistent with his age, appeared on the corner of Jerry's mouth—a smile that was not quite a smile: "In the account books of the House of Rosier, it is clearly recorded that the House of Malfoy borrowed a huge sum of money from my family seventeen years ago. Calculated with interest, now..."
He paused and smiled at her with a hint of apology: "Now, I'm afraid this cannot be solved by'some help.' When you calculate it... it is actually you who still owes me quite a significant amount."
Jerry's voice was kept very low, thin as a thread, almost completely drowned out by the bustling noise of the street market around them.
Only Narcissa and Jerry, who were in close proximity, could clearly hear the words he spoke, which were understated yet weighed more than a thousand pounds.