Chapter 132: A Visit And The Granger Family
Descending from the air on a broom, Vaughn glanced at the mistletoe, then heard a faint girl’s voice nearby: “Are you picking a few bunches?”
Turning around, Vaughn saw a girl with a flower crown, who looked about Ginny’s age, emerging from behind the Black Tower house.
Vaughn waved at her: “Hi, Luna.”
Luna Lovegood, the “Loony” who would later join Ravenclaw Academy, had been known to Vaughn since he was six.
Of course, their relationship was generally distant; Ginny often played with her.
Vaughn wasn’t here to see her this time.
Vaughn looked behind Luna at the meticulously tended orchard located in the backyard of the Black Tower and asked, “Is your mother here?”
Luna stared blankly at Vaughn, somewhat lost in thought, and after a long while, murmured hazily, “…You have a lot of strange bugs on you… they’re not Nifflers… I think you should pick a bunch of mistletoe and use the Wrackspurts living inside them to drive them away.”
Vaughn: “…”
In fact, every wizarding family in St. Catchpol Village knew that the Lovegoods’ youngest daughter was an oddball—even by wizarding standards, which were already prone to eccentrics.
Sometime ago, she began to “see” strange illusions, Nifflers, Blast-Ended Skrewts… Initially, her playmates all believed her stories and enthusiastically searched for a while.
Until they found nothing, and there was no indication that the so-called Nifflers and Blast-Ended Skrewts actually existed, she became isolated. However, in Vaughn’s memory, the little girl didn’t seem to care.
She firmly believed that those “magical creatures” truly existed, and she didn’t argue when others refuted her, but she continued to act as she pleased.
Therefore, as early as a few years ago, Luna had already earned the nickname “Loony” in St. Catchpol Village.
Actually, Vaughn had been interested in her for a while in the beginning. It wasn’t that he believed in things like Nifflers, but rather he felt that this girl possessed a very mysterious aura, quite similar to some special bloodlines from legends.
He suspected she might possess some lineage of Seers or Legilimens, and that things like Nifflers and Blast-Ended Skrewts might be some form of personification of her abilities.
A typical example was Luna’s ability to detect people with troubles through Nifflers.
However, after studying for a period, Vaughn gave up. The reason, aside from not fully understanding it, was that he found himself being influenced by the “Loony,” his mind filled with wild ideas.
From then on, he kept his distance.
Clearing his throat, Vaughn didn’t want to talk to her any further: “Thank you, Luna, I’ll pick a bunch of mistletoe when I leave… Your mother is in the orchard, right? Then I’ll head over. It was nice meeting you, bye!”
Watching Vaughn’s back disappear into the orchard, Luna, still a bit dazed, happily replied after a while: “Bye, Vaughn!”
Of course, no one answered her, and she didn’t care, humming a happy tune as she continued to pick dirigible plums.
She wanted to weave a necklace out of dirigible plums.
On the other side, Vaughn entered the orchard. The Lovegood family’s orchard was well-maintained, with branches carefully pruned to ensure they would bear sweet fruit in the fall.
There were no signs of that yet.
After walking through the furrows of the orchard for a short while, Vaughn saw a witch with her hair tied up in a handkerchief, waving her wand under a fruit tree.
The tree seemed to be diseased, with yellowed and curled leaves. As the witch waved her wand, a faint white light seeped into the fruit tree.
Vaughn didn’t interrupt. After watching for a while, he asked, “Is it working?”
The witch stopped casting the spell, observed the leaves carefully for a moment, and dejectedly put away her wand: “It’s no use… Damn it, why is developing new spells so difficult? I’ve meticulously studied spells like ‘Vulnera Sanentur’ and ‘Growth Spell,’ and carefully planned the syllables and wand movements, so why isn’t it working?”
She was Luna’s mother, Pandora Lovegood, a witch obsessed with developing spells.
In Vaughn’s memory, in “the original timeline,” she was supposed to have died in a magical experiment in ’90, blown to pieces by a spell she developed herself.
However, the year ’90 here was precisely when Vaughn published his thesis on *Extraordinary Potions*, causing an uproar among traditional potioneers.
The *Quibbler*, founded by Mr. Lovegood, vigorously joined the fray that year, and true to the magazine’s name, it helped Vaughn spar with the group of potioneers—he didn’t care who was right or wrong, he just wanted to be contrarian to the mainstream!
Meanwhile, Pandora, upon learning of Vaughn’s research through her husband, and given their proximity, frequently visited The Burrow to discuss with Vaughn how to develop the Magic Power Extraction Method into spells.
Having her attention diverted, she naturally had no energy to develop other high-powered spells.
Vaughn looked at the lady under the fruit tree, who, despite her dejection and frustration, still had exquisite features, and was slightly lost in thought.
He hadn’t paid attention to it before, thinking it was just a coincidence.
But after Dumbledore’s demonstration and his own contemplation of destiny, Vaughn suddenly realized that there had always been a concrete example of someone escaping their original fate right beside him.
“She survived because my destiny interfered?”
Of course, Vaughn’s visit to Pandora wasn’t solely due to this suspicion.
He had other purposes.
Pandora led Vaughn to a large, leafy oak tree where black tea had already been brewed. She invited Vaughn to sit, poured tea, and asked, “The usual?”
“Yes, no milk, no sugar.”
“Such strange preferences. If I hadn’t watched you grow up, I would never believe you were English,” Pandora shrugged, placing the plain black tea, which she found tasteless, in front of Vaughn.
For her own cup, she added milk and a lot of sugar, and then brought out clotted cream, scones, and jam from a nearby food box.
Cream and pastries with milk tea; this was the English way of eating black tea.
An explosion of calories!
Vaughn had never been able to accept it, let alone eat such things in the morning.
Taking a sip of the sour and bitter black tea, Vaughn got to the point: “Did you receive Isabella’s letter?”
“Of course.”
Pandora elegantly broke a scone, first spreading cream, then jam—a very typical Devonshire way of eating; another way, from Cornwall, was to spread jam first, then cream…
“At Christmas, I received a package from her in North America. I knew she was stuck there and caught up in trouble. I heard you went to see the Rosier family?”
“Yes, but Isabella had already split from the family, and they weren’t willing to help her.”
“I knew it.” Pandora scoffed. Like her husband, she was rebellious and always disliked large families.
She looked at Vaughn: “When are you planning to rescue her? I don’t have much ability, I can only be your muscle. Remember to call me when you’re about to leave.”
Pandora was a doer who didn’t waste words.
Otherwise, she wouldn’t have died in a spell accident in her original fate.
As for her friendship with Isabella, it was also because of Vaughn; Isabella was a staunch supporter of Vaughn’s Magic Power Extraction Method.
In the early days when Vaughn proposed the Magic Power Extraction Method, mainstream media did not endorse it. Articles supporting Isabella’s paper could not be published on platforms like *Extraordinary Potions* or the *Daily Prophet*.
It wasn’t until she submitted her manuscript to *The Quibbler* that *The Quibbler* gained popularity because of her article!
Although Mr. Lovegood had ulterior motives, Isabella didn’t mind. Instead, she became good friends with Pandora Lovegood, who often reviewed her articles.
Hearing that Pandora was willing to help, Vaughn didn’t say much. He just needed an attitude.
If nothing unexpected happened, he would visit Ilvermorny in early August. Lupin and other WAC committee members would surely accompany him.
However, they would be of little help in rescuing Isabella—a group of werewolves would be under strict surveillance by the North American Magical Congress, no matter how big their heart. Bringing Pandora was simply in case there were available hands.
Having received an answer, Vaughn moved on to another matter:
“Pandora, I plan to research fire dragons during the summer holidays. Are you interested?”
“Oh? What aspect of fire dragons are you going to research?”
“The fundamental principles of their spellcasting, such as the resistance of their scales to spells, why they can breathe magical flames, what causes all of this.”
“Are there any results yet?”
“Only some conjectures. I studied a juvenile dragon I had, and I initially suspected that there were some microscopic magical structures within fire dragons. The fire dragon’s breath and the high spell resistance of its scales might be caused by these magical structures, much like symbols in alchemy.”
Pandora showed some interest: “An interesting inference. How are you going to do it? How microscopic? What about research materials?”
Facing her string of questions, Vaughn’s expression remained calm: “Don’t worry about research materials, I have channels and will obtain sufficient resources. As for how microscopic the magical structures are, I don’t know yet. I’ve grown a bit fond of that juvenile dragon, so I haven’t had the heart to kill it.”
“Only after the materials arrive later, and we conduct vivisection, can we determine that. It might also require some Muggle tools. If you’re willing to participate, I hope you can modify a batch of tools as soon as possible, such as microscopes, at least to observe magical power in operation.”
“Oh—that’s not simple!”
Although she said it wasn’t simple, Pandora showed no hesitation.
This witch, who dared to blow herself up, had a natural disregard for danger and rules. Perhaps this was also why she was willing to marry Lovegood.
Two “lunatics,” a match made in heaven!
……
Vaughn left Pandora a list of the required equipment and the specifications for modifying it, along with some Muggle pounds and Galleons.
These were the only things that needed arranging.
Then, Vaughn returned to The Burrow.
Molly had already prepared breakfast, and everyone else had been woken up. Arthur was in his usual spot at the head of the dining table, engrossed in the *Daily Prophet* delivered by the owl, ignoring the clamor of his children.
Only when he saw Vaughn did he peek out from behind the newspaper: “Dear, when are you going to pick up the Grangers?”
Upon hearing this, the entire family perked up their ears. Only Ron pouted, uninterested.
“In the afternoon,” Vaughn thought for a moment. “Muggles aren’t suited to wizarding ways. We might have to use Muggle transportation to come back, which will take several hours. We’ll pick them up in the afternoon, and they can rest for a night, so they’ll have energy to visit places tomorrow.”
“Oh—my dear, you’re so thoughtful!”
Molly, carrying a tray, kissed Vaughn soundly on the top of his head, then roared at the grinning twins and the dazed Percy:
“Look at your brother, he found a girlfriend in his first year of school, and she’s a well-behaved, smart, and beautiful girl. What about you?”
The three of them never expected this matter to involve them.
Fred and George quickly passed the buck: “We’re very busy, Mom. We’re starting the Weasley family company with Vaughn. Why don’t you ask Percy? Didn’t he just break up with someone?”
Percy’s face fell, and under Molly’s expectant gaze, he reluctantly said, “…We broke up…”
The Weasley family: “…”
Silence fell upon everyone.
Only Ginny blinked her eyes, wanting to ask something, but Vaughn covered her mouth.
Then, in unspoken agreement, they changed the subject, returning to the Grangers.
Arthur enthusiastically said to Vaughn, “Son, why use Muggle transportation? I can take you in our car. You wouldn’t believe it, I’ve completely modified it. It flies now!”
Vaughn took a sip of juice, unmoved: “And then I’ll have to drive it, right?”
“That was last year. How can you still hold onto that? I promise, I’ve been practicing driving diligently this year!”
Looking at his father’s hopeful gaze, Vaughn couldn’t bring himself to refuse completely and conceded:
“Alright, but I need to test your driving skills.”
He didn’t want to spend hours driving again like he did last year on the way to school.
After breakfast, Arthur eagerly pulled Vaughn along and took his beloved car out for a spin.
Ron also enthusiastically became one of the first passengers.
Arthur hadn’t bragged this time.
After a year’s absence, he had indeed honed his driving skills, and even his flying skills were decent.
The flying car performed exaggerated barrel rolls in the air, “rolling” over a patch of reeds and letting out a series of screeching screams.
After Arthur proudly demonstrated and parked the car at the entrance of The Burrow, Ron practically crawled out of the compartment. Before Molly could even help him up, he stumbled into the lavatory.
“Ugh—”
“Ha, looks like Ron can’t handle Dad’s driving skills,” Arthur shrugged, then, puffing his cheeks, asked Vaughn, “Son, do you believe my skills are up to par now?”
Vaughn said expressionlessly, “If you don’t feel like throwing up yourself, I’ll believe it.”
“Nonsense, look, Dad is perfectly fine, isn’t he?”
“Then don’t hold your breath. Follow me, deep breath—”
“In—oof!”
Arthur immediately covered his mouth and sprinted into the house. Soon, fervent father-son screams of interaction could be heard from the direction of the lavatory:
“Get out of the way, Ron—”
“Dad, what are you—Merlin’s beard!”
Tsk!
As a Quidditch Seeker, Vaughn, having undergone special training, scoffed at the two weaklings, then kissed Molly on the cheek: “You’ll have a tough time tonight, Mom.”
Molly beamed: “Mommy isn’t working hard. You’ve saved Mom so much worry, what’s this little bit of help!” As she spoke, she glared at the windows on the second and third floors and shouted, “Unlike your brothers, they’re all thick-skulled!”
On the second and third floors, the twins and Percy, who had been secretly peeking at the commotion through the curtains, quickly retreated.
After scolding the disappointing ones, Molly quickly pushed the “successful” Vaughn into the house, rummaged through boxes, and found a formal gown from the Weasley family that had been stored for who knows how many years, preparing to dress up her “darling” to make a stunning impression on the Granger family and secure the relationship.
Seeing his mother pull out a lace-trimmed gown with a distinctly French style, inherited from some generation of Weasleys or Prewetts,
Vaughn said helplessly, “Mom, I’m just going to pick up Hermione and her parents to visit, not to get engaged. There’s no need for such grandeur.”
Molly turned a deaf ear and lectured, “Silly child, you don’t understand how important first impressions are—” As she spoke, she yelled towards the lavatory, “If your father hadn’t been so slovenly when he met your grandfather back then, the Prewett family wouldn’t have opposed our marriage, and we wouldn’t have had to elope!”
“Slovenly!”
The talking mirror, which had been holding its tongue all day, quickly repeated the word and promptly shut up when Vaughn shot it a dagger-like look.
Arthur, still in the lavatory, dared not make a sound.
Vaughn could only say, “But they are Muggles, Mom. They… wouldn’t appreciate wizarding aesthetics… Well, you know, Muggle families generally lack historical depth, and Muggle clothes are very simple.”
“Oh—”
Hearing this, Molly, who had a vague understanding of Muggles, finally stopped fussing with Vaughn.
However, at her insistence, Vaughn still had to change into a suit he hadn’t worn before, and his fiery red hair was slicked back with pomade to look like an adult.
With everything ready, Arthur had already parked the car at the entrance.
He was also wearing a Muggle suit, which Vaughn had bought him the year before the previous birthday. Vaughn’s excuse at the time was that as the director of the “Department for the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts,” how could he not have a Muggle suit?
Arthur, accustomed to cooperating with Vaughn, immediately understood his son’s excuse and shamelessly accepted it, earning him a scolding from Molly.
Then, on the birthday itself, Vaughn made an appearance and bought his mother a suit as well, to show equal treatment to his parents.
Although Molly outwardly resisted spending money, Arthur’s “shamelessness” made her accept her son’s gift, and she bragged about it to her friends the next day.
Thus, the art of compromise was not unique to the East; it was also prevalent in the West.
Of course, Molly soon realized that the father and son were putting on a show for her, just to get her to accept her son’s birthday gift.
Molly was reluctant to scold her darling son, but she wasn’t as polite to Arthur.
Even though two years had passed, upon seeing Arthur in the taffeta suit again, she had nothing pleasant to say: “Arthur Weasley, you’re allowed to go with Vaughn this time, but you’d better be sensible and put away your inappropriate quirks. If you scare the Granger family, I’ll have your life!”
Arthur was very curious about Muggles and had many questions he hoped to get answers to from them.
Therefore, when facing Muggles, he usually displayed a strong desire for knowledge.
A strong desire for knowledge was a good thing, but wizards… due to their abundant emotions and lack of common Muggle knowledge, the types of questions they asked Muggles were somewhat like a rich person seeing a poor person unable to afford bread, and then asking them: Why don’t you eat cake? A French version of “Let them eat cake,” originating from Rousseau’s *Confessions*.
Thus, Arthur’s ardent curiosity usually ended in a mess.
Arthur chuckled awkwardly, wiped his mouth with his finger, and indicated he would keep quiet: “My dear, this time I promise not to ask any silly questions. I’ll pick up the Granger family calmly.”
“You better!”
With another angry roar, Molly finally let the father and son go. Watching them get into the car and then take off into the sky,
The modified Ford car had decent speed, but also many flaws. It wasn’t an alchemical product but a simpler enchantment, making its functions singular and unstable.
Shortly after taking off, Arthur, wanting to demonstrate the car’s performance, flew directly into a cloud and almost collided with an oncoming Muggle airplane.
After Arthur’s emergency evasive maneuver, the car became wobbly and eventually landed on the ground.
On a Muggle road, the Ford car stopped by the roadside, emitting black smoke. Arthur, sweating profusely, tapped and fiddled with the car body with his wand, trying to find the problem.
Vaughn grumbled from the side:
“Dad, you promised Mom you’d be careful!”
“Sorry, son. Just a moment, Dad will fix it quickly…”
30 minutes later.
Vaughn was already expressionless.
“Excuse me, Dad, have you fixed it yet?”
“Uh—son, I suddenly think that taking the Knight Bus might be a good experience for Muggles. What do you think?”
“Heh heh…”
Then, the father and son, dressed immaculately in gentlemanly attire, stood by the roadside, feeling the wind from passing cars, and raised their wands…
……
“Dear, how do you like my outfit?”
“It’s very nice, Mom.”
“How about this one?”
“Also nice…”
“Then…”
Watching her mother flit back and forth, changing outfits one after another, Hermione began to get a headache.
In the living room, Mr. Granger, already dressed in a suit and waiting for his wife, was idly playing with his cane.
Noticing his daughter’s pleading gaze from behind the half-open bedroom door, Mr. Granger shrugged, indicating his helplessness.
After changing a few more times, Mrs. Granger finally chose a suitable dress. Then she saw Hermione’s attire and exclaimed:
“God—Jane, are you going to the Weasleys’ wearing that robe?”
Hermione looked down at herself. She quite liked the Gryffindor-style robe. “Is there something wrong?”
“Of course there is!” Mrs. Granger’s voice was sharp. “You’re going as a guest, young lady, and to the home of the boy you like the most. How can you be so sloppy? Good heavens, I regret letting your father take you when you were little. Look what he’s turned you into!”
Mr. Granger, who was caught in the crossfire in the living room, looked bewildered.
Then he saw his wife dramatically close the door, and only her stern voice could be heard from inside:
“This hair is absolutely not acceptable! It’s as messy as straw, it needs to be done!”
“How can you go bare-faced? Makeup is polite; you have to do it even if you disagree!”
“And the clothes…”
After waiting for an hour and finally getting his wife to choose a dress, Mr. Granger, thinking he was free, stared blankly at the ceiling, not even wanting to play with his cane anymore.
Lost in thought for an unknown duration, Mrs. Granger suddenly heard a car horn honking outside.
This was a high-end residential area, and only private cars were allowed in. Generally, no one would honk here, or residents who were disturbed would definitely call the police.
But Mr. Granger knew that such Muggle rules wouldn’t bind the guests arriving today.
He quickly got up, forced a polite smile, and opened the door.
Then, a gust of wind whistled past him, messing up his neatly combed hair!
What shocked him even more was that he clearly saw a double-decker bus, whistling past. It squeezed into the one-foot-wide gap between the Williams’ and Jackson’s houses, like a flattened cardboard box.
And sped away!
“…”
Mr. Granger’s mouth hung open, his mind blank for a moment.
He didn’t even notice the two people who had arrived in front of him.
Arthur curiously examined Mr. Granger’s perfectly white and neat teeth and said, “…He looks terrified.”
“I told you, the Knight Bus is a bit too thrilling for Muggles,” Vaughn spread his hands.
“Poor Muggle!”
Vaughn glanced at his father’s sympathetic expression and was speechless.
At this moment, on one side of the living room behind Mr. Granger, a door opened, and Mrs. Granger, wearing a light green dress and looking energetic, walked out.
Seeing Vaughn and Arthur, she paused for a moment, then gave a generous and proper smile: “Vaughn, dear, and… Mr. Weasley?”
Before Vaughn and Arthur could respond.
Hearing his wife’s voice, Mr. Granger finally snapped back to reality. He looked back at his wife, pointed a trembling finger at the opposite side, and stammered, “Bus, bus, bus—”
Mrs. Granger’s face darkened. She quickly stepped forward and viciously pinched a piece of flesh on his arm. Mr. Granger yelped in pain, but under his wife’s threatening gaze, he could only puff out his cheeks and forcefully suppress his scream, listening as his wife, with a forced smile, smoothed things over: “Dear, you’re so playful… I’m sorry, Mr. Weasley, he’s always had a great sense of humor and loves to joke.”
“Heh heh…” Arthur chuckled dryly, casting a look of fellow suffering at Mr. Granger.
Mrs. Granger naturally didn’t understand male camaraderie. She only understood how long her husband could endure the pain, so her fingers didn’t relax at all, while maintaining a composed expression, she asked Vaughn, “Vaughn, how long have you been here?”
“Just arrived, Madam.”
Vaughn’s expression was calm; his pomaded hair was so stiff it could make a fly break its leg.
But Mrs. Granger was pleased with his appearance. She looked him up and down, her satisfied smile almost overflowing: “My heavens, what a handsome young man! You look wonderful today!”
As she spoke, she turned and called out, “Jane, darling, come and see who’s here.”
The door deep in the living room slowly pushed open at Mrs. Granger’s call, and a beautiful girl, like an angel, emerged.
She wore a pale pink to white gradient off-the-shoulder long dress, its pure white hem trailing on the floor. Her previously messy hair was now straight, tied back with a few small braids, adorned with several sparkling hair accessories that shimmered with light.
As sunlight streamed in from the entryway, her skin was bathed in a halo, appearing snow-white, accented by red lips.
She looked a bit shy, her head slightly lowered, a faint blush on her cheeks, but this did not detract from her beauty, instead adding a touch of delicate charm.
Vaughn’s gaze flickered.
Arthur was also stunned. He nudged Vaughn and praised in a low voice, “Good taste, son!”
Mrs. Granger took in both of their reactions with a slight smile, proud and reserved. She invited, “Mr. Weasley, please come in. I’ve already brewed some black tea. It’s not too late to set off after resting for a while.”
Arthur quickly tugged Vaughn and replied, “Of course, thank you for your hospitality, Mrs. Granger.”
……
Soon, the aroma of black tea filled the Granger family’s living room.
Arthur enthusiastically scanned every detail of the room, marveling at the bright electric lights, the humming refrigerator, and the enormous television.
“May I ask what makes these lights shine? Yes, I know about electricity. I once found a few batteries from the Muggle world, but they could only keep the lights on for a while before quickly failing… No power? Then, what exactly is electricity?”
“A marvelous design! Such a simple cabinet can freeze. How do Muggles achieve this?”
“Oh—moving pictures—”
He had completely forgotten Molly’s instructions.
Vaughn couldn’t be bothered to manage him. After entering, he was pulled by a shy Hermione to her second-floor bedroom. In the sun-drenched room, looking at the girl who seemed to glow before him, Vaughn’s gaze shifted.
“You look so beautiful today…”
The girl blushed slightly, then pouted, feigning displeasure: “Only today?”
“Of course not!”
“Then why haven’t you said so before?”
“Because normally I prefer actions, and today is no exception.”
As he spoke in a low voice, Hermione sensed a shadow enveloping her.
She immediately understood what was about to happen, her face turning bright red, but she did not resist. Instead, she closed her eyes and gently lifted her head.
The next moment, a warm sensation touched her lips, dispelling her inner shyness and unease…
……
In the evening, a Knight Bus screeched to a halt in front of The Burrow.
Mr. and Mrs. Granger, almost supporting each other, managed to avoid losing their composure due to weak knees.
The enthusiastic driver, after dropping off the group, called out to Vaughn, “Mr. Weasley, it’s an honor to serve you. My brother is a werewolf, and thanks to you, he now has a job and has joined the WAC. I wish you all the best in the elections at the end of the month!”
“…Thank you, and I wish you all the best as well.”
Having received the blessing, the driver laughed heartily. He glanced again at the two Muggles who had disembarked, and the beautiful young witch accompanying them, winked at Vaughn, and forcefully stepped on the accelerator:
“Good evening, Mr. Weasley. I hope you have a happy and pleasant night. If you need anything, just raise your wand—”
The double-decker bus, starting abruptly, disappeared into the depths of the reeds with the driver’s lingering farewell.
Beside them, Mr. and Mrs. Granger were already bending over and vomiting…
