Morning of the Badger

On this island nation far from the mainland, there were many long, narrow valleys, especially Loch Ness in northern Scotland. It looked somewhat like an enlarged, slow-moving river, with mountains rising directly from both shores rather than lying peacefully on river-alluvial plains like lakes near the mountains.

"Oh, my heavens, they let that plesiosaur get out again." As Pomona came down the stairs from the second floor to the first, the owl tossed that day's Daily Prophet through the window. Madam Sprout was reading the front-page news.

"What? It escaped again?" Her grandson Pete had been eating oatmeal. Hearing his grandmother mutter, he could not help speaking, and milk sprayed from his mouth the moment he opened it.

Pomona remembered that plesiosaur, though Muggles preferred to call it the Loch Ness Monster. Every year, many tourists from all over the world came specifically to visit that remote place with its rather unremarkable scenery.

It loved attention and enjoyed watching Muggles make a fuss when they saw it, so it often wandered into the Muggle world. The Ministry of Magic had no choice but to set traps around the lake, but they clearly had not worked. The creature had appeared again.

"Don't they have any other news to report?" Pomona complained as she swept past Sprout, her flowing platinum-blonde hair gleaming like golden threads.

"Oh, miss!" Madam Sprout shrieked the instant she saw how she was dressed. "You're going out like that?"

"What is wrong with it?" Pomona inspected herself. With wizarding bloodlines dwindling, many Muggle-born wizards had entered the magical world, and all sorts of strangely dressed people had appeared as a result.

She was certain she was not wearing Muggle pajamas. It was only that this witch's robe exposed her calves, something an elderly witch like Madam Sprout could never accept.

"Your face. You forgot the spell."

Pomona instantly felt her good morning mood vanish without a trace.

People had a sense of superiority over humanoid creatures. House-elves were a race conquered by wizards in ancient wars, and every elf had to undergo enslavement training from birth. Veela were also a kind of elf, but they were greater elves rather than little elves like House-elves. Even though they became beautiful young women in human form, marrying an elf was still considered shameful by those lofty wizards. Yet the beauty of Veela was impossible for the men obsessed with them to forget, and so many mixed-blood illegitimate children like her existed in the world.

"Why should I hide my face?" Pomona had no desire to use magic on her face. She was eleven this year. Every girl at that age wanted to dress beautifully. Besides, she had not done anything shameful, so why should she bear punishment for consequences caused by someone else's mistakes?

"Miss, please don't make things difficult for me." Madam Sprout looked at Pomona with pleading eyes.

"I think you look very pretty dressed like that." Pete said as he chewed banana chips. "Are you going out on a date?"

"No. I'm only going to Diagon Alley. Whether I end up at Hogwarts or Beauxbatons, I'll need a wand."

Pomona's biological father was French, but she had lived in Britain with Madam Sprout ever since she could remember.

By rights, she should have attended Beauxbatons, but that would mean going to school with many "relatives," which would be awkward for all of them.

"Oh, I can't let you go to Diagon Alley alone!" Madam Sprout cried. "The magical world is no place for an eleven-year-old child to wander around."

"Wasn't the war over long ago?"

"Grindelwald being locked in prison doesn't mean the world is peaceful. He was a prophet and a liar, and many people still believe every word he said."

Pomona was tired of it. She only wanted a simple life. Why did humans insist on making simple matters complicated?

"I heard another pure-blood lunatic has appeared," Peter cut in. "Back at school, he was called Tom Riddle, but now his servants call him the Dark Lord."

"You shouldn't talk about a Dark wizard like that." Madam Sprout rebuked Peter. "You'll bring great trouble upon yourself."

"How could he possibly know? I'm in my own home." Pete put down his spoon, lifted his bowl, and drank the rest of his oatmeal in a few gulps. "Come on. I happen to need to buy this year's books. Let's go together."

"Should I put a spell on my face?"

"Why? You don't like that, do you?" When Pete came to Pomona's side, he suddenly bent down and whispered in her ear, "If anyone asks who you are, tell them you're on a date with me."

Pomona could not help giggling.

"At least finish your breakfast before you go!"

As green Floo Powder flames flared in the fireplace, Pomona vaguely heard Madam Sprout shout after them. But the excitement of soon owning a wand of her own made her forget her hunger. She could finally become a proper witch.

More importantly, she could leave that house called a home, which was really a cage. She had only lived in the residence her father arranged for her for a few weeks. It looked large and luxurious, but she lived there alone, so Madam Sprout had brought her into her own home.

During Gellert Grindelwald's reign, World War II had broken out not only in the magical world but also in the Muggle world. Pete's father had worked at the Ministry of Magic and died in an accident, while his mother worked at St Mungo's.

Pomona did not know whether Pete was always so cheerful because he was a Hufflepuff or simply because it was his nature. There was never any gloom or dejection on his face, and he always carried the scent of cheesecake.

Madam Sprout was very skilled in food magic. In her eyes, food could bring people happiness. Once war began, everyone would be busy fighting, the land would become scorched earth, no one would cultivate crops or raise livestock anymore, and food would become desperately scarce—she repeated it in their ears as though chanting a spell.

After Pete went to Hogwarts, he only had to listen to her nagging during the summer and winter holidays. Pomona, however, had to hear it every day. Between being nagged like a spell and learning food magic spells, she bravely chose the latter. Her "talent" had awakened because of food.

The Sprout family's Floo Network exit in Diagon Alley was directly across from Honey Baron. The instant she stepped out of the fireplace, she smelled an intense scent of honey.

Diagon Alley was the same as ever, except everyone who passed by took an extra look at her face, as though they had seen a ghost in broad daylight.

"Take my arm, dear princess." Pete came to her side, bent his arm, and smiled at her. "Today, I'll be your knight."

"Where is your sword?" Pomona looked Pete up and down. Boys changed quickly after turning sixteen, and Pete was already much taller than she was.

"Right here." Pete pulled out his wand. "Since we're here, shall we buy a flying broom too?"

"That was your real purpose, wasn't it?" Pomona suddenly realized. Pete had long complained that his flying broom was too slow, making him perform badly in Quidditch matches, but the Sprout family did not have enough money to buy him the newest broom.

"I have no idea what you mean." Pete said with a cheeky grin. "I'm just a Hufflepuff."

With that, Pete linked arms with Pomona and disappeared into the bustling crowd.