Are You a Wizard, a Mage, or an Alchemist?

"...Huh...?!"

Harry was a little dazed.

Muen picked up the fallen flowers and examined them carefully. The moonlight within them had already drained away completely; the flowers were now nothing more than empty shells, of no further use.

Fortunately, although most of the Moonpetal Flowers had taken a heavy hit, a few lucky ones had survived.

He would just treat it as pruning the flowers...

That was all he could do to comfort himself.

At the same time, he turned his gaze toward the little boy before him: messy, long black hair, broken glasses, green eyes, and the Lightning Scar on his forehead.

And most importantly, the method the boy had used just now.

There was magic within him.

This was the second time Muen had encountered someone with magic in this world. The first time, those people had been impossible to communicate with. They claimed to be from the Ministry of Magic and immediately tried to detain and take him away, so both sides had ended up fighting atop Big Ben.

Ministry of Magic... Lightning Scar...

It felt so familiar. No matter how he looked at it, it all seemed familiar, yet he simply could not remember.

Then Muen fixed his gaze on the little boy before him, only the second spellcaster he had encountered in this world.

Perhaps he could find a way to break the deadlock here.

With that thought, he asked, "Kid, what school of spellcaster are you from? A wizard? A mage? Or an alchemist?"

"Huh?"

Harry made a baffled sound.

Seeing the boy's reaction, Muen was a little confused as well. Did this child not know where his power came from?

A spellcaster living in the ordinary world, raised under the influence of ordinary people's worldview?

"What's your name?" Muen asked.

"My name is Harry Potter. I live at Number 4, Privet Drive, across the street from your house, sir."

Harry Potter?!

A bolt of lightning seemed to crash through Muen's mind, and in an instant, all his memories connected.

So this was the world of Harry Potter.

Unfortunately, he had not watched much of the series in his previous life. He only knew the rough plot through various sources, and after so many years, he had forgotten nearly everything.

If the name had not been so distinctive, he would not have remembered at all.

But once his memories connected, he recalled quite a few things, such as the simplest fact of all: Harry was an orphan.

Thinking about it that way, everything made sense.

Muen shook his head helplessly, then got to his feet and returned indoors.

Harry stared after the man, still feeling dazed.

Just like that... it was over?!

Watching the man go back inside and leave him alone outside, Harry suddenly felt that neither leaving nor staying seemed right.

As he hesitated, he caught sight of Dudley standing at the street corner, keeping his distance as he tried to see what interesting things were happening over here.

Harry immediately crouched down...

Meanwhile, Muen returned to the house. It had a small entryway cluttered with all sorts of odds and ends. Countless books were piled atop a tall stone table beside it, scattered into a small mountain, with the curtains caught among them.

Beyond the open window lay a mountain meadow. The wind swept across the emerald grass, stirring wave after wave through it.

Clearly, the world outside the window was entirely different from the world beyond the door.

A red flame burned slowly in the fireplace. Before it stood an old red leather sofa, sunken in the middle, clearly a spot where someone often sat to pass the time.

"What happened?" a hoarse yet somewhat childish voice asked. The flames in the fireplace gradually began to boil, and eyes and a mouth actually rose from within them.

"Several clusters of Moonpetal Flowers were ruined by some brat who came from who knows where," Muen said lazily. Then he asked, "Where are we now?"

"Let me see." The little fireball stretched out two hands and picked up a map nearby. After a long while, he said, "Finland, northern Scandinavian Mountains."

"Someone destroyed your Moonpetal Flowers, and you're not going to kill him?" the little fire man asked.

"Lucifer, why is it always kill, kill, kill with you? Can't you be a little more peaceful, like me?" Muen said helplessly.

"What part of you is peaceful? Besides, I, the great Lucifer, am a demon!!" Lucifer's features suddenly twisted as enormous flames burst from his body, roaring brightly.

"Enough, enough. Hurry up and find an uninhabited place to land the castle, then I'll transplant the Moonpetal Flowers." Muen waved a hand, clearly unconcerned by the fellow's performance.

As he spoke, he picked up a shovel and went outside again.

"Hm?"

Muen was somewhat surprised. Harry had not left yet? What was he staying here for? Was he hoping to mooch a meal?

Since you don't want to leave...

He tossed the shovel to the ground and said bluntly, "Kid, dig up the flowers."

"Huh?!" Harry looked at the shovel on the ground, then at Muen, yet his hand unconsciously picked up the shovel.

"What are you huh-ing for? Moonpetal Flowers are so precious. Of course they need to be transplanted. Are you going to wait until you've destroyed every last one?" Muen said indifferently.

"Get moving. Consider it atonement. Otherwise, I'll go tell your family." Muen said with feigned sternness.

At the mention of family, Harry immediately became alert. He did not want The Dursleys to find out what had happened today. After all, no matter who was right or wrong, it would somehow end up being his fault.

"O-okay." Harry hurriedly got up, dusted off his clothes, and began working.

Muen watched for a couple of moments, then stopped paying attention. Moonpetal Flowers had extremely robust roots, so he was not worried about whether they would survive the transplant. Their preciousness lay in the purified moonlight accumulated within their blossoms.

As he stretched lazily, the corner of his eye suddenly caught two brats rustling about beside the street.

One was tall and skinny, like a baboon. The other was tall and fat, exactly like the nasty cousin from Harry's memories.

Why were they snickering toward this side?

Muen glanced back at Harry, then pointed at the two boys. "Kid, were those two the ones who threw you into my flowerbed?"

Harry looked over and spotted them as well. Not knowing what else to do, he could only nod helplessly.

"What two lively, spirited children," Muen said involuntarily.

Lively and spirited?!

Harry stared at Muen in surprise.

Muen nodded. That Dudley fellow in particular, with all that fat on him, reminded Muen of Porco.

That guy who was clearly short and fat, with a pig snout to boot.

Yet he was still a heartthrob adored by countless people.

Dudley obviously did not possess Porco Rosso's charisma, though their builds were similar enough.

Come to think of it, Porco Rosso had turned into a pig because he had been cursed by that world.

And he himself... had actually been afflicted by the same curse.

The thought alone irritated him.

As Muen thought, his fingers lightly tapped together. Harry's attention was drawn by the sound, and he was not sure whether it was an illusion, but he thought he saw a faint glimmer flash from one of Muen's rings.

Woof, woof, woof—!!!

A large Doberman suddenly ran out from somewhere down the street. The instant it saw Dudley, it charged toward him.

"Hey! Damn it, what the hell is that? Why is it chasing me?!" Dudley was instantly terrified and hurriedly dodged aside, no longer in the mood to stand there snickering.

Meow—!!

A tabby stray cat suddenly leaped down from the branches of an oak tree by the road and clawed wildly at Dudley's face.

"Ah, no! My face, my face!!"

Woof, woof—

Another stray dog came charging out from the street corner...

"Mom, Mom!!! Whoever you are, save me!!" Dudley roared as he ran frantically toward home.

Seeing this, Harry burst into laughter without restraint. He had not been this happy in a very long time. Though he had no idea why these stray cats and dogs were chasing Dudley, he did not care. As long as Dudley suffered, Harry was happy.

Piers was not faring much better on the other side. A stray dog and two wild cats were chasing him too, and in the blink of an eye, he vanished from sight.