Watching the girls leave together, Albert suddenly felt that this dress-up game ought to come to an end.
He was not actually obsessed with beautiful women—or rather, he no longer was. After encountering enough pretty girls, it was only natural to become as immune to them as he had.
It was only when Isobel, wrapped in a fur cloak, reached out from behind and put her arms around his neck that Albert, who had been contemplating life while gazing at the snowy scene outside, came back to himself.
"What are you thinking about?"
Isobel gently rubbed her cheek against Albert's and asked softly, "Something on your mind?"
"Nothing. I was just thinking about what to do in the future."
Ever since Voldemort's death, Albert had indeed felt the confusion and emptiness of losing his goal after clearing the game. He had begun compiling books in an attempt to preserve the knowledge he had gained from his cheat, partly to find something to do and partly to leave behind proof that he had once existed in this world.
His desire to travel around the world was one reason for it as well.
To put it in terms from his previous life: a bastard was just being pretentious.
"How about getting all your lovers pregnant?" Isobel suggested jokingly. "Or finding yourself a hundred lovers."
"What would I need that many lovers for?" Albert held his wife in his arms and kissed her forehead. "Even lust has its limits. Besides, my body couldn't handle that many lovers."
"That doesn't sound like something a man with a whole lot of lovers would say," Isobel teased.
"Come to think of it, what was my life goal before I became a wizard?" Albert's thoughts briefly drifted back to his childhood. When he had first obtained his