Photographic Memory

After meeting up with Lenn and Daisy, Mr. Harris led the family in bidding farewell to the Weasleys.

"Allen, we have to keep in touch often."

Ron was reluctant to part with his new friend. This new friend was just too cool.

"Sure, Ron." Allen was also happy to have met such an enthusiastic little fellow.

Passing through the Magic Lamp Post again, Allen felt deeply conflicted, though one feeling stood out above all else: anticipation.

That was right—he was even more eager than when he had gone to Diagon Alley. He was looking forward to the Scholar System's functions. Like someone who had bought a new toy, he could not resist fiddling with it for ages.

What was more, this Scholar System would surely add plenty of excitement to his future life.

After returning home, instead of putting away the expensive Flying Broomstick, the Harrises first turned concerned eyes toward their youngest son.

"Allen, I knew you liked reading, but I never expected you to become so impressive without telling us!" Mr. Harris said admiringly.

"Allen, we've never seen you be this amazing before. You've never even gone to school—how did you know all that stuff? Did you know the answers beforehand?" Lenn was utterly stunned. He had never thought his younger brother would be a top student.

"Allen, how did you do it?" Mrs. Harris stroked her youngest son's hair.

"Mom, Allen really loves reading. I think he can do it." This was Emily, who believed in her brother without reservation.

"I don't think Allen could have known the answers in advance. After all, he had no way of going to Diagon Alley by himself, and these questions weren't recorded in ordinary wizarding books. Did he learn them at a Muggle school?" After saying that, Mr. Harris patted Allen's cheek.

"But we're really curious, Allen. When did you become this amazing?" Daisy, the eldest sister, could not help asking.

Why was Allen silent? Because the moment he got home, he heard the Super Scholar System's notification.

That ethereal, pleasant voice said, "Congratulations, host. You have completed the beginner's trial mission and successfully obtained a grand reward. The system has awarded you one draw and one copy of Spell Application Strategies: Beginner."

"Would the host like to draw now?"

"Of course." Allen could not wait.

A massive roulette wheel appeared in his mind. It had seven colors—red, orange, yellow, green, cyan, blue, and purple. The areas corresponding to the seven colors decreased in that order, while a bronze pointer faced the middle of the wheel's upper edge.

"Begin the draw." The pointer spun rapidly. "Stop!" It came to rest on the smallest purple section.

What great luck. Allen's heart leaped with joy. Purple occupied the smallest area, so its reward had to be the most generous.

A purple treasure chest popped up. "Open," a line of golden text slowly appeared above it.

"Photographic memory!" Allen asked the system in surprise, "Does that mean I'll remember everything I've seen?"

"Of course. However, what the host has obtained is only the beginner version of photographic memory, which applies only to written text."

"Any written text?"

"Yes, any written text."

This was truly a pleasant surprise. Allen knew very well how much time this ability could save during his studies.

"Perhaps we've paid you too little attention. We didn't even know that our son was far more outstanding than we understood!" Mr. Harris said, taking Allen's hand.

"Dad, I like reading because I have an excellent memory. If I read written words a few times, I can memorize them completely."

Allen gave the explanation he had been preparing for quite some time.

"Wow, that's incredible." Emily excitedly ran back to her room, then came running out again with a thump, thump, thump.

"Brother Allen, try this book and prove it to them." Emily laboriously carried over a book.

"The Tales of Beedle the Bard." Having heard of the book before, Allen opened the cover with great interest.

"Just read The Tale of the Three Brothers." Emily flipped the book open to its longest story.

Allen quickly scanned through the story, feeling each word enter his mind as though it were being scanned in.

Allen handed the book to Emily. "Once upon a time, three brothers were traveling along a lonely, winding road. As evening approached, they came to a river. The water was too deep to wade through, and too dangerous to swim across. However, the three brothers were skilled in magic. With a wave of their wands, a bridge appeared over the treacherous water. When they reached the middle of the bridge, a hooded figure blocked their path..."

Allen's family was utterly dumbfounded. From Emily's excited, jubilant expression and movements, they could tell that Allen must have recited it all correctly.

They had never imagined that Allen was actually the one with the greatest potential in the family.

"The third brother lived to a great age before finally taking off the Invisibility Cloak and giving it to his son. Then, as though greeting an old friend, he welcomed the Grim Reaper. As equals, they happily departed the world together."

Allen smoothly finished reciting the story, then looked at the overjoyed Mrs. Harris. "Mom, I'm thirsty."

"Oh, of course. Oh, darling, you've been talking for so long!"

No matter how excited Mrs. Harris was, she could still cast nonverbal spells skillfully.

The kettle flew automatically to the sink. Clear spring water gurgled from the tap into it, then the kettle flew onto the stove, where blazing flames ignited beneath it on their own.

"Oh, Allen, you make Mom so proud." Mrs. Harris lovingly stroked Allen's head.

"It's so late. You must all be hungry. Daisy, come help me. I think we should make a proper feast—Steak and Kidney Pie, haggis pudding..."

Mrs. Harris briskly headed for the kitchen, dragging away Daisy, who had been eagerly watching Allen recite the story.

Mr. Harris and Lenn had already gathered around the Flying Broomstick, Neptune, enthusiastically discussing Flying Broomstick maintenance methods.

What Pureblood Wizard could resist the allure of a top-tier Flying Broomstick? Even Allen, with his merged memories, felt his blood boil at the thought of the sport.

Little Emily still hovered around Allen, asking this and that. She thought her brother was even more magical than magic itself.

Full and satisfied, Allen lay in bed. Before drifting off to sleep, he could not help thinking, What a wonderful day. And my little sister was such a godsend!