Exploring House-elves

It was another sunny day. After completing his unchanging newly revised radio calisthenics routine, Ryan ate a House-elf-made Potato Beef Stew Rice prepared from his verbal instructions.

After drinking black tea, he followed his usual routine of swimming through the sea of his memories. Suddenly, he recalled the description of the second floor of Black Family Manor: a row of shriveled heads lined the wall beside the stairs, all belonging to House-elves who had grown too old to move and had been beheaded.

Something was off. Sirius's family had possessed so many House-elves, yet only Kreacher remained in the end. But according to the original novel, House-elves had parents too. Winky had said that she had cared for the Crouch family from the moment she was born; before her, it had been her mother, and before that, her grandmother.

"Surely our family doesn't only have Jack, does it?"

"Jack," Ryan called.

"Master Ryan." Jack suddenly appeared.

"Are you the only House-elf in our family?"

"Master Ryan, our family has always served the Smith Family. We elves take pride in keeping everything in perfect order without appearing before our masters. However, only one elf is allowed to regularly appear before the master; the others work in places like the kitchen."

"Have you heard of Kreacher?"

"Master, do you mean Kreacher of the Black House? He is an unqualified elf. I heard from friends that he spends all day muddleheaded, while his home is a complete mess."

"Alright, I have a general understanding now. I'm done eating. Clean up; I'm taking a nap."

After a long conversation with Jack, Ryan discovered that elves had their own little society, just like Winky.

The Crouch and Malfoy families had nothing to do with each other, yet Winky knew Dobby—knew what kind of person he was, knew that he longed for freedom and was ashamed of it.

According to the original novel, most elves likely served a wizarding family as a household unit. But they also had their own society, and they all knew or had heard of outstanding or unconventional elves. Otherwise, how could there be children and reproduction?

Most wizards simply could not be bothered to learn about them. This magical world was truly interesting.

In the blink of an eye, evening had arrived. Ryan's dinner that day was Three-Cup Chicken. Jack's cooking was indeed impressive; based on just a few words from Ryan, he could prepare a dish from another country, and do it perfectly.

For some reason—perhaps because of Hermione, or perhaps because of Jack's unusual behavior during their last trip to Diagon Alley—Ryan was especially curious about House-elves today.

After dinner, Ryan summoned Jack again.

"Jack, what did you feel when you wore my grandfather's Enchanted Hat during our last trip to Diagon Alley?"

"Master Ryan, after putting on the Enchanted Hat, I lost consciousness. Old Master George's memories and thoughts continued operating, and I still remembered who I was. I only woke up after taking off the Enchanted Hat."

"Jack, do you have children?"

"Yes. His name is Claude. He is still an immature elf and has been helping in the kitchen."

Ryan had satisfied his curiosity for the day. He had Jack bring him How Prefects Gain Power, Percy's favorite book in the original novel, then cast a critical eye over the wizarding world's political struggles and repeatedly sighed, Is that all?

He stayed up until nightfall. After washing up, Ryan drifted off to sleep.

In his dream, he was in the Wand Shop, unable to sense magic like the protagonist and constantly mocked for it. All sorts of heads floated in the air, circling Ryan and hurling filthy insults at him. Among them were the head of Zhou Yi from Ryan's previous life, Daniel's Harry Potter, Emma's Hermione, and even Jack.

"What's going on?" Ryan woke with a start, only to discover that the proficiency of his Thinking skill had increased again.

Ryan suddenly remembered that he had a system. As long as he devoted himself to developing in one direction, what did it matter if Harry Potter's magical perception was stronger? He could do it too. Maybe he could even see the status panels of other people and creatures like in a game.

Three months passed.

Thus, Ryan added another unchanging activity—or rather, habit—to the hour after his daily nap.

Observation. Every day, he had Jack bring him different substances or living things, which he touched, viewed from different angles, and analyzed.

At last, Ryan's status panel changed.

Race: Wizard

Strength: 13 (the limit for an ordinary person is 10)

Constitution: 28 (the limit for an ordinary person is 10)

Magic: 20 (the limit for an ordinary person is 10)

Skills: Thinking lv.3 (11%) Body Modification lv.3 (54%) Alchemy lv.2 (44%) Charmcraft lv.2 (19%) Potion-Making lv.2 (2%) Transfiguration lv.2 (53%) Gun Kata lv.2 (2%) Martial Arts lv.2 (6%) Detection lv.1 (2%)

"Jack, stand where you are. Don't resist in a moment."

Ryan stared fixedly at the summoned Jack, his little face tense.

A transparent blue frame appeared on Ryan's retina.

In the upper-right corner was a full-body image of Jack: smooth and hairless, with long bat-like ears, tennis-ball-sized eyes, and a black butler's uniform. Above it were Jack's stats:

Race: House-elf

Strength: 6 (the limit for an ordinary person is 10)

Constitution: 22 (the limit for an ordinary person is 10)

Magic: 33 (the limit for an ordinary person is 10)

Skills: Cleaning lv.5 (56%) Apparition lv.4 (33%) Magic Control lv.3 (65%) Planting lv.2 (32%)

Cooking lv.5 (33%).

What dazzling stats. Other than strength and constitution, everything else far surpassed Ryan's current attributes. House-elves really were formidable. In the seventh book, the elf army had played an enormous role in the Hogwarts Defense Squad. Take Kreacher, for example—he could even Apparate to the place where Voldemort hid his Horcrux, though that was also because Voldemort looked down on elves from the bottom of his heart.

It seemed he would have to break his word again. Ryan decided to find an ice cream shop on a British street, eat while grinding his skills, and see who could escape his discerning eyes in the future.

"Hahahaha! Harry Potter, what are you going to use to fight me?"

12 Little Newport St, Chinatown, WC2H 7JJ. Beside Chinatown was a Sweet Soup Shop with an authentic old Cantonese flavor. Ryan had chosen this place after scouting it out many times. It was not overly sweet and did not use all sorts of strange colorings, but none of that could conceal Ryan's current mood.

In The Magic of Names, Ryan learned that names themselves carried magic. Having inherited the surname Smith, Ryan should have been difficult for ordinary people to notice, just like his ancestors.

But Ryan had not expected that after crossing over, he seemed to have awakened the marvelous magic within this body. His handsome face made him stand out like a glowing beacon amid the crowd, shining brighter and brighter.

Alas, his dream of being left alone had been shattered.

Ryan wore a sour expression, but all sorts of older sisters and strange aunties still came over to strike up conversations. Or rather, the more he acted that way, the more excited they became.

Seeing this, the shop owner waived Ryan's bill, grateful to him for drawing so many female customers in.

The female customers were accompanied by scattered male customers.

Sure enough, just like in a bar, wherever there were many high-quality female customers, male customers would arrive without invitation.

As people came and went, Ryan found that ordinary people generally had a constitution below 10 and possessed no magic. He suddenly recalled how his status panel had initially described magic: a special mutated spiritual power.

Ryan pondered as he watched the proficiency of his Detection skill continuously increase in his mind. Suddenly, he felt that none of these hardships amounted to anything.