Stargazy Pie

Today, an unexpected visitor appeared in Grimmauld Place.

It was Draco. He emerged from the Floo Network and caused a commotion as soon as he appeared—mainly Ron's commotion.

"Malfoy?! What are you doing here?" Ron's eyes widened.

Draco rolled his eyes. "Don't be nervous, Weasley. I'm not here to argue with you."

"Then what are you doing here?" Ron asked suspiciously.

"I've brought something." Draco pulled an exquisite silver box from his pocket and handed it to Cassandra. "My father asked me to bring this. He said it's Malfoy family heirloom he asked me to give you, which can protect the wearer in extreme circumstances."

Cassandra took the silver box, opened it, glanced inside, and nodded. "Please thank my father for me, and also thank Lucius."

"Yes," Draco said, then turned to Ron, his expression complicated. "Ron, I heard you're going to your death?"

"Malfoy!" Ron was about to explode again.

"Don't get me wrong, I'm not here to mock you." Draco raised his hand. "I just want to say—come back alive. I'll be so bored if you're dead."

Ron paused for a moment, then laughed, "Don't worry, I won't let you get bored."

Draco didn't linger; he turned and disappeared into the fireplace.

Ron stared blankly at the fireplace for a long time before finally saying, "Malfoy actually—came to deliver something?"

"He's not what you think," Cassandra said calmly. "He's just being stubborn."

"I know." Ron, unusually, didn't refute, "What he said just now was actually out of concern, wasn't it?"

The crowd remained silent, which was taken as tacit agreement.

The Malfoy family are known for their arrogance, aren't they?

In the afternoon, Kingsley brought news: the Confederation had confirmed that the main force would be fully assembled by the early morning of August 14th.

In other words, they have nearly two weeks to prepare.

"Two weeks," Harry said, glancing at the calendar. "That's enough time for us to do a lot."

"Yes," Kingsley said, "So during this time, everyone should train as needed and rest as needed. Stay in top shape."

Everyone nodded.

In the evening, Harry and Cassandra took their usual walk in the courtyard.

The sunset was beautiful tonight; the sky was ablaze with orange-red.

In the setting sun, their shadows were stretched long and overlapped.

August 4th.

Today, Bill finally deciphered the sealed message.

He summoned everyone to his study and solemnly presented his discovery.

"This is a memory," he said, "Left behind by Voldemort —or rather, by a young Tom Riddle —at some point."

He waved his wand, and the Crystal shard projected a blurry image like a projector.

A slender girl stood in a dimly lit room, facing a huge mirror. Her face was reflected in the mirror—exquisitely beautiful, but her red pupils were rather frightening.

It is Voldemort's androgynous form, Merope.

"I knew you would find this," Merope's voice rang out. "Whoever you are, the fact that you can see this memory means you're very close to me."

The girl in the picture turns around and faces the audience outside the mirror.

"Do you want to know what I'm pursuing?" she said. "Not power, not immortality. Those are just means. What I truly want is transcendence."

"Transcending life and death, transcending rules, transcending all the constraints this world places on me."

Some say I'm crazy, some say I'm a devil. But they don't understand. They're just birds trapped in a cage, never knowing how vast the sky is.

"And you—you who are seeing this memory—do you understand?"

The image gradually blurred, finally settling on the girl's scarlet eyes.

The study fell silent.

"Beyond—" Hermione murmured, "He wants to surpass everything."

"That's his obsession," Lupin said. "Not power, not rule, but to become something beyond the mundane."

"So he chose the Return of All Souls," Kingsley said. "That ritual would bind him to the earth, making him a near-eternal being."

Harry remained silent, the words echoing repeatedly in his mind.

They are like birds trapped in a cage, never knowing how vast the sky is.

Voldemort was mocking them.

But Harry wasn't actually angry; he just thought Voldemort was utterly pathetic.

Because he knew that the true sky is not something one can reach alone. True transcendence is not achieved through plunder and slaughter.

Instead, he has so many people around him who are willing to face everything with him.

"That statement could be a trap, or it could be true," Bill said, "But either way, it helps us understand him better."

"Yes," Harry nodded, "Know yourself and know your enemy, and you will never be defeated."

Two days later, Mrs. Weasley arrived at Grimmauld Place, Number 13.

She emerged from the Floo Network, carrying large and small bags, and immediately began making arrangements upon entering.

Ron! You've lost weight again! Have you been eating poorly?

"Mom, I've gained weight, really."

"Nonsense, I think you've just lost weight. Here, I brought you some meat pies."

"Mom, I just had lunch—"

"Lunch is lunch, and meat pies are meat pies; they don't conflict."

Ron was on the verge of tears, but under Mrs. Weasley's watchful gaze, he obediently picked up a meat pie and started eating.

Hermione was secretly laughing when Mrs. Weasley grabbed her arm.

"Hermione, you've lost weight too! Come on, eat more."

"Mrs. Weasley, I—"

"Don't mention it, I made it myself."

Hermione was forced to accept a meat pie, and she and Ron looked at each other blankly.

Mrs. Weasley came to deliver supplies. She brought a whole bunch of food, including meat pies...

Apple, roasted chicken legs, Butterbeer — the Kitchen was overflowing with food.

"You're going on a long journey, so make sure you eat well along the way," she said. "You can't go to war on an empty stomach."

"Mrs. Weasley," Harry said.

Mrs. Weasley looked at him, her eyes filled with concern. "Good boy, take care of yourself too. If that boy Ron drags you down, give him a good beating."

"Mom!" Ron protested.

"What do you mean, 'you'? Do you think I don't know my own worth?" Mrs. Weasley glared at him.

Ron shut up obediently.

In the afternoon, Mrs. Weasley and Hermione busied themselves in the Kitchen preparing dinner.

Ron was kicked out and forbidden to cause trouble, so he sat in the Living Room and played chess with Bill, losing three games in a row. "You're not paying attention," Bill said.

"I'm wondering when Mom will leave," Ron said honestly.

"Mom just arrived, and you already want her to leave?"

"It's not that I want her to leave, it's that if she stays here, I always feel like a child." Ron scratched his head.

Bill laughed, "That's normal, I'm the same way."

In the evening, Mrs. Weasley prepared a sumptuous dinner.

Ron ate two bowls and wanted to eat more, but Hermione stopped him.

You won't be able to sleep tonight.

"How could that be? I digest quickly."

"That's because you're young. In a few years, you'll know what indigestion is like."

Ron was speechless, unsure whether he should retort.

Mrs. Weasley watched from the side, grinning from ear to ear.

That evening, Mrs. Weasley took her leave. Before leaving, she hugged Harry.

"Good child, come back alive," she whispered. "We're all waiting for you."

Harry nodded vigorously.

The green light from the fireplace swallowed her figure.

The following morning, Kingsley brought back news: the Ministry of Magic had received an anonymous letter detailing Voldemort's plans in South America, including some previously unknown details.

"Who sent the letter?" Lupin asked.

"I don't know. The handwriting is obscured by magic, and its source cannot be traced," Kingsley said. "But the content matches our intelligence very closely, and even adds some information we didn't know."

"Could it be a trap?"

"Possibly. But it's also possible that someone on the inside wants to help us," Kingsley said thoughtfully. "In any case, this information is worth considering. I'll have Hermione compare it and see if there are any contradictions."

Hermione took the letter and began to study it carefully.

In the afternoon, Dyg and Silva conducted a mock battle in the backyard. Dyg was responsible for setting the traps, Silva was responsible for breaking them. The two went back and forth, using their wits and courage, and in the end Silva won by a narrow margin.

"Silva is too strong," Dyg said breathlessly. "She managed to break through all my traps."

"These traps are good," Silva said modestly. "If it weren't for the mechanisms you designed, I would have fallen into them long ago."

"You two stop praising each other," Kingsley chuckled from the side. "You're both very capable."

In the evening, Anne pulled Harry and Sebastian along to play another Muggle game— Uno.

"What's this?" Ron leaned closer again.

"Uno!" Anne exclaimed, "A card game that's super easy!"

So everyone sat down together again and started playing Uno.

Ron was incredibly lucky this time, taking the lead the whole way. Hermione was close behind, Anne was third, Sebastian, unable to get any cards, could only watch from the sidelines.

In the final moments, Ron had only one card left. He looked at everyone triumphantly, ready to shout out his classic "Yono!"

But before he could shout, Hermione threw out a flip card, reversing the game order. Anne seized the opportunity to throw out a "+2", forcing Ron to draw two cards.

"Hermione!" Ron screamed.

"It's just a game, don't get worked up," Hermione said with a smile.

In the end, Anne won.

"It's you again!" Ron retorted.

"The chosen one, huh?" Anne said with a grin.

Sebastian floated nearby, thoughtfully remarking, "Muggle games do have some fun."

"Didn't you just say it was all thanks to Yunheng?" Anne glanced at him sideways.

"I'm talking about Monopoly," Sebastian said without batting an eye. "Uno still requires some strategy."

"Snort."

To everyone's surprise, Veratia returned from the Confederation a week before her departure.

She brought back the latest news: Voldemort's ritual preparations have entered the final stage. According to detection, the Magic Fluctuation around Tornador Peak are getting stronger and stronger, and are expected to reach their peak around August 5th.

"It matches our previous calculations," Kingsley said.

"So time is tight," Veratia said, "But we can't be too rushed. We need to make sure we're in top form."

She looked at Harry: "How's your training going?"

"Still progressing," Harry said. "Environmental Synchronization is already quite proficient, and large-scale attacks can be controlled."

But precise control still requires practice.

"Then let's keep practicing," Veratia said. "There's still a week left."

In the afternoon, an accident occurred in Ruby's Kitchen.

The story begins with Ruby wanting to try a new dessert—a recipe supposedly passed down from her grandmother, but her grandmother only told her the general ingredients, without detailing the steps.

Ruby confidently began her experiment. She busied herself in the Kitchen for a while, finally bringing out a plate that looked—well, how should I put it—like a charred, unidentified object.

"What is this?" Ron asked curiously.

"Ruby's Cranberry Pudding!" Ruby exclaimed excitedly.

Everyone stared at the plate of "caramel pudding" and fell silent.

In the end, Ron had the courage to pick up a spoon, scoop out a small piece, and put it in his mouth.

Then his expression froze.

"How was it?" Ruby asked expectantly.

Ron swallowed with difficulty, forcing a smile, "Delicious."

But his expression betrayed him.

Hermione looked at him suspiciously, then scooped up a small piece and put it in her mouth. Then her expression froze.

"This—" she said with difficulty, "—has a very special taste."

Ruby looked at the others expectantly.

Kingsley cleared his throat and said, "Ruby, we appreciate your gesture. But this dessert—may need a little improvement."

Ruby's expression changed from anticipation to disappointment.

"It's okay!" Anne quickly said, "Failure is the mother of success! I'll definitely do better next time!"

Ruby's hope was rekindled, and she nodded vigorously. "Ruby will definitely succeed!"

Then she took the plate of crème brûlée back to the Kitchen, ready to serve it from scratch.

Everyone breathed a sigh of relief and looked at Ron with sympathy.

Ron's face turned pale. He silently picked up a glass of water and gulped it down in one go.

He finished the entire glass of water before his complexion slowly returned to normal. Slumped onto the sofa, he muttered weakly, "Ruby's pudding—it's even worse than my mom's Stargazy pie."

"What is the Stargazy pie?" Silva asked curiously.

Ron's expression grew even more pained. "It's a fish-head-up pie, my mom makes it really authentic."

Hermione added, "It's basically just sticking the sardine's head out of the pie crust. Mrs. Weasley's are actually quite delicious; Ron was scared by fish eyes when he was a kid."

"Those dead eyes are staring straight at you! As if protesting that we're wasting food!" Ron protested. "Who can eat that!"

Anne laughed so hard she couldn't stand up straight, while Sebastian rarely showed a smile.

"The food in Mame is truly imaginative," he said.

"This isn't just food for the hemp, it's wizard food," Anne corrected him, "Though I don't know why the fish head has to be sticking out."

From the Kitchen came the clatter of ping-pong balls Ruby resumed her work, along with her muttering to herself, "Grandma's secret recipe—Grandma said to use love— Ruby has so much love—why is it black—"

The group exchanged a knowing glance and decided not to disturb her.