This Spell Is Too Hard... I Can't Learn It...

Knowing in advance that the Weasley family would send a letter, Silan made preparations so that Errol could find Nicolas Flamel's address.

Silan fed the listless Errol Owl Supplement, thinking how remarkable it was that it could fly all the way from Egypt at its age...

Melba only flew across the English Channel, yet he's always causing trouble.

Now she's even had a son to slack off.

Why can't we learn from the older generation?

Silan carefully opened the letter that Errol had sent.

Inside was a sheet of letter paper and a photograph.

The black-and-white photograph shows the nine members of the Weasley family standing in front of a huge pyramid, waving enthusiastically at him with broad smiles on their faces.

Ron stood in the middle, looking somewhat dazed, with a large rat perched on his shoulder.

Next to him was Ginny, then George and Fred.

Molly was holding a small Sphinx doll in her arms.

She also hung a small tag around the doll's neck with Silan's name on it.

This counts as a group photo.

Although Silan didn't go, it was clear that Aunt Molly still cared about him.

This made Silan smile knowingly, "I never expected them to bring me here in this way."

Silan smiled and opened the letter, which was covered with dense writing.

The handwriting is varied, clearly indicating it wasn't written by one person.

Dear Silan:

It's such a shame you couldn't come with us. Our trip to Egypt without you is like a wizard losing his wand. My dear child, we'll be back soon.

Of course, I'll remember to bring you a gift. Remember to eat well and get enough sleep.

At this point, the handwriting changes.

"Silan, I think we should expand our overseas business. Our quill pens are incredibly popular here, they're selling like hotcakes!"

It's a real shame we didn't bring much with us.

Here, the handwriting changes again.

"Bill Weasley showed us all the ancient tombs, and you wouldn't believe the magic the ancient Egypt wizards cast on them. Especially the last tomb, which was full of strange corpses, probably Muggle who had wandered in without permission."

I think they must be cursed; they've grown several heads!

Oh, actually I'm really looking forward to the start of school. After saving up all summer, I should be able to make a lot of dragon dung compost by then."

The last handwriting was probably Arthur Weasley's.

"In short, thank you for the good luck you brought us. I think I will never forget this big prize and the trip to Egypt."

The letter was signed at the bottom: [Yours truly, the Weasley.]

The words "I love you" were written especially large, as if afraid that Silan wouldn't see them.

Silan smiled, folded the letter, and placed the photograph on the table.

The people in the photo are smiling and waving.

Lucius pulled his gaze away from the photograph in the Daily Prophet with some annoyance.

The Weasley family's smiles disgusted him.

Lucius threw the Daily Prophet on the table and muttered angrily, "That annoying Weasley family!"

"What's wrong with that couple? They've had so many children like animals!"

"Look at their red hair, it's disgusting!"

As a representative of a family that adheres to Pure-blood traditions, Lucius originally looked down on the Weasley family, who had long been tolerant of Muggle -Muggle blooded wizards.

The last time at Flourish and Blotts, Lucius's noble spirit was shattered by Arthur Weasley's three punches, which made him hate the Weasley family to the extreme.

Now there's another one.

Arthur Weasley actually won the Galleon Grand Prize from the Daily Prophet!

This made Lucius even more agitated.

To him, the 700 Galleon prize was insignificant; he simply didn't want Arthur Weasley to win.

When Lucius learned that Arthur Weasley, that penniless wretch, actually wanted to enter the Galleon Grand Prize, he also entered, and even encouraged his friends to participate.

He wasn't trying to win; he was simply trying to reduce Arthur Weasley's chances of winning.

I just didn't expect it to be completely useless.

"700 Galleon, if you're careful with your money, it'll be enough for you bunch of poor bastards to live on for a lifetime," Lucius said disdainfully, looking at the photo in the newspaper.

Narcissa looked at her angry husband, shook her head helplessly, and continued to cut fruit for her son.

After setting out an elegant fruit platter, Narcissa carried the platter toward Draco's room.

Since the start of the holiday, my son has been studying hard.

Although she felt relieved, Narcissa, as a mother, couldn't help but worry a little.

This sudden change initially left Lucius and Narcissa somewhat bewildered, wondering if Draco had suffered some kind of trauma. They thought he would recover after a while.

But I never expected him to work so hard all this time.

Lucius expressed great satisfaction with this.

"Bearing the glory of the Malfoy family for centuries, this is how it should be."

Lucius glanced at his son's room, a smug smirk playing on his lips as he gave the newspaper photo a cold smile.

Weasley was obsessed with trivial pursuits and neglected his duties.

Draco was so engrossed in his work that he forgot to eat and sleep.

The superiority or inferiority is immediately apparent.

Victory!

Narcissa walked to Draco's door, knocked gently, and said softly, "Draco, take a rest."

No one answered from inside the house.

Narcissa's heart skipped a beat. She frowned and pushed open the door, only to be startled by what she saw inside.

Draco knelt on the ground, staring blankly at the ceiling, his heart filled with despair.

"What's wrong, darling?" Narcissa panicked instantly, her hand trembled, and the fruit plate fell to the ground.

"Don't scare Mom!"

Narcissa put her arm around Draco's shoulder and said anxiously, "Say something, darling, what's wrong?"

"This Spells is too difficult... I can't learn it..." Draco muttered to himself.

Since causing a commotion in the Soul Space and attracting Nicolas Flamel, Silan has become much more restrained.

Every day, I simply follow the routine of learning Ancient Runes, listening to Nicolas Flamel's lectures, practicing the control of the Dragon-Phoenix Twin Flames, and occasionally grinding for experience with [Spell Inspiration].

Through his continuous practice, his experience with Spell Inspiration also gradually increased.

Nicolas Flamel never brought up the matter again, and after class each day, he would tinker with some alchemical tools on his own.

He even decorated the house both inside and outside with a lot of things.

In Silan's view, this residence could now be described as a Fianto Duri fortress.

It's unclear who Nicolas Flamel was trying to guard against...

More than half a month passed like this.

"Call..."

Silan slowly exhaled, shook her slightly sore arm, and put away her wand.

His attention shifted to the virtual screen that popped up in front of him.

[Spell Inspiration: Proficiency +1]

[Spell Inspiration: Proficiency +1]

[Spell Inspiration Upgraded!]