His thoughts stirred.
They were at the Burrow now, surrounded by people. Drawing something uncontrollable could cause unnecessary trouble.
Besides, he needed some time to "digest" the fragile "friendship" he had just formed with Harry.
Not for now, he murmured inwardly. The system prompt quietly vanished.
Breakfast ended in a strange, delicate calm.
Though Molly still wore a stern expression, she said nothing more.
After learning what had happened, Arthur merely gave them a grave warning not to do it again, then began worrying about his car and the attention it might attract from Muggles.
At last, exhaustion swept over everyone.
"Enough, all of you! Upstairs! Right now! Go to sleep!"
Molly ordered without room for argument. "Ron, Harry, and Mr. Leoqi will sleep in your room tonight. Fred and George, back to your own room!"
No one dared object.
The five boys obediently went upstairs and squeezed into Ron's cluttered room, its walls plastered with orange-and-yellow Chudley Cannons posters.
Ron gave a huge yawn and was practically asleep the moment his head hit the pillow.
Fred and George crammed onto the other bed, whispering about something in low voices before they, too, soon fell silent.
Harry lay on a mattress beside Ron. Though his body was exhausted, his mind was still replaying everything that had happened that night—
—the flying car, the railing, Skofot's explanation...
He secretly glanced at Skofot, who was sleeping on another mattress against the wall.
Skofot had his back to him, curled up as though he were already asleep, breathing evenly.
But Harry did not know that behind those closed eyes, a mind was calmly analyzing the gains from that night—
—the ice broken in his relationship with Harry, the further consolidation of his position as a "victim" in the Weasley household, and... the curiosity