Mid-August.
Two weeks had passed since the birth of the undead owl, Fireworks.
On a warm, sunny morning, Alan was sitting cross-legged on his bed. Sunlight spilled over him through the window. His breathing was steady, his chest rising and falling rhythmically, giving him an air of inexplicable tranquility.
"Hey, Alan," Scott's confused voice came from the bottom bunk. "You've been in that position for half an hour. What on earth are you doing?"
Alan slowly opened his eyes, his silver-gray pupils appearing exceptionally clear. "I've already told you, I'm meditating."
"But you're just sitting there motionless. Don't your legs feel numb?" Scott clearly didn't understand.
To be honest, they did. Alan could already feel his thighs starting to cramp slightly. Perhaps he should change his posture for the next meditation session.
Seeing that time was up, he rolled off the bed. His legs went weak, and he nearly crashed into the nearby table.
"So what's the point of this?" Scott pressed.
Alan gently moved his numb legs, feeling the stinging sensation of blood flowing again. "It helps you concentrate more easily," he explained. "It's very useful; you should try it. It's simple: first, clear your mind, and then..."
"Forget it, forget it." Scott curled his lip and interrupted Alan.
It was impossible to expect a young child to sit still and quiet for half an hour.
Alan shrugged.
In fact, the meditation he spoke of wasn't just an action; it was one of the magics recorded in the Book of the Mage. Regular meditation could significantly improve his concentration and directly affect the precision and success rate of his spellcasting.
Currently, Alan's success rate for casting the Weakening Curse was nearly fifty percent. This was quite encouraging for him. He could now be considered to have some degree of combat capability. At least if he encountered a mugger on the street, he wouldn't be completely defenseless. Judging by Harold's state after being cursed earlier, the effect of this curse was quite good; it could almost completely incapacitate an adult.
"I'm going out to play." Scott fished a small knife from under his pillow and tucked it neatly into his waistband. "Want to come along?"
Alan shook his head and pulled two fifty-pence coins from his pocket. "Help me bring back two chocolate bars; you can keep the change."
Scott's eyes lit up, and he nimbly caught the tossed coins. "That's my Alan, always generous."
"Remember to buy them from that shop on the next street over. I like the ones from there."
Scott gave an okay gesture and dashed out the door.
He really is energetic, just like a kid should be, Alan thought. If he was going to the next street, the walk alone would take nearly an hour.
Finally, the dormitory was quiet.
Alan pulled his trunk out from under the bed and took out his wand. Over the past few days, he had also tried the spells from the Hogwarts textbooks.
"Lumos!"
Alan flicked his wand, and a ball of soft white light appeared at the tip.
A very smooth casting.
Seeing this, he rubbed his chin. Although he had successfully cast magic again, he felt something wasn't quite right. Why was this magic completely different from what he had learned in the Book of the Mage?
To cast this Lumos Charm, one only needed to make precise hand movements with the wand, concentrate, and chant the incantation clearly. While there were certainly small details involved, the most important thing was that casting this magic required no construction of a spell model at all. According to the Book of the Mage, that should be the most core step of casting magic.
Could it be that the two magic systems were different?
Alan could only guess. However, this wasn't necessarily a bad thing. Why not enjoy being able to use magic more easily? If every single spell truly required constructing a spell model, that would be a real headache.
Alan opened the copy of The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 1 he had bought in Diagon Alley and began flipping through it. Inside were very basic spells, such as the Levitation Charm Wingardium Leviosa and the Unlocking Charm Alohomora.
It was worth noting that most of their incantations had traceable origins. They were somewhat like Latin or Greek. This was again completely different from the magic in the Book of the Mage. The incantations in the Book of the Mage didn't belong to any language Alan knew. That language carried a mysterious power, as if it were inherently constructed for magic.
Alan continued reading the book in his hand with great interest, finding that it also detailed the correct wand movements and pronunciation points for each spell.
"Very convenient." He nodded slightly. Presumably, these spells could be learned easily.
While Alan was trying out other spells, Canned Food appeared outside the window at some point.
"Where have you been lately?"
Alan let Canned Food into the room and stroked its head. He hadn't seen this silly cat for several days.
"Meow."
Canned Food nuzzled Alan's palm and burrowed into his arms, letting out a contented purr.
"Looks like you had a good time."
Alan gently groomed the fur on Canned Food's back, and the cat immediately narrowed its eyes in comfort.
While Canned Food was happy, someone else was not.
Fireworks leaped out from Alan's shadow and landed gracefully on the table in front of him.
"Hoo!"
It let out a strange cry, spreading its wings and adopting a threatening posture toward Canned Food.
Startled, Canned Food looked up and glared back at Fireworks without backing down, a warning growl emanating from its throat.
The two undead creatures were locked in a standoff, making Alan both laugh and cry.
"Alright, alright, go play elsewhere."
To soothe the jealous Fireworks, Alan set down the Canned Food he was holding and went back to studying the textbook in his hand.
The two little fellows jumped onto Scott's bed and began to frolic and fight. It looked like his poor roommate would have to wash his sheets again. Alan apologized to Scott in his heart.
He stood up to close the window, but his movements suddenly froze. Outside the window, a pair of large, round eyes had appeared at some point, staring straight at him.
It was an unfamiliar owl.
The owl tilted its head slightly, and then a letter was tossed into Alan's hand.
"This is..."
The sender written on the envelope was none other than Ezra Frick.
Alan immediately tore open the envelope.
Dear Guest,
The item you mentioned is not for sale and, I regret to say, cannot be sold.
However, if you are interested in other items, I have enclosed a sales list for your reference. Quality is guaranteed for all items. If you wish to make a purchase, please include the payment with your letter, and the owl will deliver the goods.
Sincerely,
Ezra Frick.
After a brief glance, Alan was somewhat disappointed. Judging by this reply, it would be impossible to buy that skeleton for the time being.
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