Hermione's Invitation

Another entry had been triggered?

Silan stared at the little virtual screen before him and discovered that this time, it was a limited-time exchange entry.

Simply put, Silan had to obtain guilt points from others within the allotted time, then use those points to exchange for trait entries and permanently lock them in.

If he failed to accumulate enough guilt points before the deadline and could not exchange for even a single trait entry, the task would be considered a failure.

There was no punishment, of course, but there would be no reward either.

The more you worked, the more you gained; no work, no gain. Silan thought that was fair enough.

This anomaly had appeared a few months ago.

Even now, Silan had not figured out why. He only knew that some of his actions would occasionally trigger entries.

These entries were highly random. Sometimes, he could choose one from several entries and turn it into a permanent ability, then raise its level by completing tasks.

Just like [Silver Tongue].

There was another kind as well—the kind before him now. Complete tasks to earn rewards, then use those rewards to exchange for the entries he wanted.

He gave it a quick glance and found that his current guilt points were not even enough for the cheapest entry. He did not dwell on it and strolled into Ollivanders Wand Shop.

The shop was dimly lit. The moment he entered, he saw countless long, narrow boxes stacked nearly to the ceiling. The wands should have been lying inside them.

McGonagall rested against the wall outside the shop for quite a while before barely managing to steady her emotions.

Even with her calm and stern temperament, she could not help but feel her thoughts roil after all the shocks she had just endured.

She turned to look into the shop and saw Mr. Ollivander selecting a wand for Silan.

He seemed to have run into some trouble. He had Silan try several wands in succession, but none suited him.

"Picky, picky..." Mr. Ollivander muttered to himself, oblivious to everyone else.

"How fascinating. Two picky customers in one day. This is the first time I've encountered such a thing in all these years."

"Oh, try this one. Twelve inches, and exceptionally rigid as well. Go on, give it a try."

It was quite some time before Silan emerged from Ollivanders Wand Shop.

"You certainly took your time." McGonagall's gaze fell on the wand in Silan's hand. "It does look like a fine wand."

"Yes, Professor McGonagall. Twelve inches, ebony wood, with a dragon heartstring core. Mr. Ollivander said I should be careful when using it."

"Then you must study hard if you wish to master that wand."

"I will, Professor."

"Good, very good. I can hardly wait to see you wield it. But for now, you had better put it away first."

McGonagall patted Silan on the shoulder. "Hogwarts begins on September first. Remember to go to King's Cross Station and board the train at Platform Nine and Three-Quarters."

"Oh, and other than Mrs. Hazel, do not reveal anything about Hogwarts to anyone."

McGonagall gave the instruction with a solemn expression.

After seeing Silan back to the orphanage, McGonagall returned to Hogwarts.

The days of investigation and travel had left her somewhat tired, but her expression only grew more serious.

Silan's surname, Mrs. Hazel's assessment of Fabian Prewett, Hagrid's astonishment...

These thoughts repeatedly circled and collided in her mind, as if desperately trying to confirm some fact.

Yet after tangling together for so long, they still failed to yield a final conclusion. Instead, they gave her a headache.

McGonagall vaguely felt that she had nearly touched the truth, yet she was always one step short.

"Perhaps I should write to Mrs. Weasley and ask whether Fabian once dated a Muggle girlfriend?"

It was the best solution she could think of for the moment.

Molly Weasley, formerly Molly Prewett, was Fabian Prewett's biological younger sister. By blood, she ought to be Silan's aunt.

Perhaps she knew something about Fabian's past.

Having made up her mind, McGonagall waved her wand. The quill on the table moved on its own and wrote a brief letter on the parchment according to her wishes.

Once it was finished, McGonagall handed the letter to an owl and instructed it to deliver it to The Burrow.

Watching the owl fly away, McGonagall sank into deep thought.

Silan returned to the orphanage and began examining the things he had just bought.

Though they looked rather shabby, they were all new and fascinating to him. After fiddling with them for a while, he opened The Standard Book of Spells: Grade 1, one of the required textbooks for new students, intending to study it.

This beginner's textbook recorded several simple and practical spells.

But before he could examine it closely, he heard someone calling for him outside.

"Silan, Miss Granger is here to see you!"

After putting his things away, Silan walked out of the dormitory.

Sure enough, Hermione was standing outside the orphanage gates, craning her neck to peer inside.

When she saw him come out, she raised an arm high and waved at him.

"Silan, over here!"

Silan jogged over to Hermione and asked, "Why are you here?"

"I wanted to apologize for what happened last time. I said I would treat you to dinner, but then..."

"It's all right. Your studies are important. Besides, I should thank you for the sandwich. It was really delicious."

Hearing him say that made the little girl feel even more guilty.

Silan was always so considerate of others.

He was simply too kind.

[Oh, sir. I admire your linguistic artistry. Guilt points +17.]

Silan looked at the chatty little screen that had appeared before him, somewhat surprised.

He had only wanted to comfort the little girl in front of him. What had he done wrong?

It was all the world's fault.

"Besides apologizing, I also wanted to invite you to my house for cake. My mum and dad aren't home today, so we can eat a little more."

"You know, they never let me eat too much before. Every time, they say, 'You have to watch your teeth.' In their eyes, it's as though everything in the world can somehow be connected to teeth."

Hermione finished in one breath, then looked nervously into Silan's eyes.

"Would you like to come?"

"Of course. Thank you, Hermione."

Perhaps it was because Silan had agreed, or perhaps because after her repeated insistence, he had finally stopped calling her "Miss Granger."

The little girl broke into a dazzling smile.

"Then let's hurry!"