The two stone statues at the entrance remained as they were. Dylan cast a glance at them. These two characters, they didn't seem like ordinary magical constructs. Dylan suspected they might have once been human, sealed within these stone forms for some reason. And now, serving as Ravenclaw's gatekeepers, it was likely they had once offended her and were subsequently transformed.
Seeing Dylan emerge, the red-eyed statue immediately spoke with a fawning tone, "Well, did you have a good haul?"
The blue-eyed statue remained silent.
Dylan nodded slightly. "Not bad, I can do a lot more at school now."
The red-eyed statue, sensing Dylan's seemingly good mood, endured its soulful torment and eagerly asked, "Then... I wonder, would you be willing to let us go?"
"We've been imprisoned here for so, so many years!"
Dylan blinked. "Your imprisonment, what does it have to do with me?"
"Uh..."
The red-eyed statue choked.
Dylan chuckled softly. Let them go? Impossible. His own world could use a couple of gatekeepers. Besides, Dylan was eager to study how these two statues were made. He wanted to see if the principles behind them aligned with his own understanding. And beyond that, these two statues could assist him with many tasks. How could Dylan possibly let them leave so easily? Not even a mouse hole for them to escape through!
Dylan paid no further mind to the red-eyed statue. Instead, he examined the palace itself. Then, he gently raised his hand and lightly tapped the palace wall with his index finger. The next moment, the entire palace vanished before his eyes, taking the red-eyed and blue-eyed statues with it.
"It really can be taken by me."
Dylan's eyebrows subtly lifted. He was even happier now. After all, the equipment in the palace's laboratory, to some extent, would definitely be best left in place. Dylan had checked, and there were many enchantments woven into the palace itself. These spells affected every aspect of the palace. If he were to simply forcibly remove certain parts, he might not only damage things, but he also wouldn't be able to leverage the palace's existing magic to make his tasks easier.
It was fortunate that Dylan hadn't simply tried to dismantle the lab equipment earlier. Now that the entire palace was safely in his possession, he could even put some of the previously collected items back where they belonged.
He looked up at the sky. It was quite late now. Dylan decided to head home and sleep, leaving everything else for the morning. His form drifted upwards towards the sea's surface. At the same time, the surrounding seawater visibly pressed inwards. With a rumble, the waves churned, and the seabed was refilled with water.
Looking back for a moment, Dylan then turned his gaze in another direction.
"That commotion, it must have attracted someone."
Dylan's form distorted abruptly, transforming into a shadowy, inky black silhouette beneath the moonlight. The sea breeze swept past him, stirring only a few faint afterimages. The dark figure tore through the air at incredible speed, breaking through the clouds. After soaring over a vast expanse of land, Dylan returned home.
His mum and dad were already home now, but they weren't asleep. Instead, they were still busy with something. Dylan raised an eyebrow, his figure vanishing in an instant.
"When he wakes up tomorrow, our son is going to be so surprised."
Hubert chuckled mischievously. "We told him we were going to the cinema, but we were actually preparing his presents. Tomorrow morning, when he wakes up, he'll see a pile of gifts and he'll be so excited he'll jump for joy!"
"Keep it down," Maeve reminded him. "Dylan's already asleep, don't wake him."
Hubert nodded repeatedly, but still muttered softly, "When he thinks we only gave him a few things, and then he wakes up tomorrow to see all these presents, I'm really looking forward to the look on his face!"
Maeve didn't deny that. She nodded gently, her hair falling softly. "I'm curious too. Hurry up and finish tidying. We need to go to bed early so we don't wake up later than our son tomorrow."
At this, the expression on Hubert's face instantly shifted from excitement to exasperation. There was even a hint of despair. "I just don't understand it. He's still so young, yet he wakes up so early every day. Doesn't he worry about not growing tall enough? I won't get a good night's sleep again tonight!"
Maeve chuckled softly. "Do you think our son's height is still short now?"
Hubert rubbed his head. "Well, no, I suppose not."
Looking at his parents, who were busy tidying up the gifts, Dylan's gaze softened.
"Honestly, it's already this late. Why aren't they going to bed? Why bother with all this?"
Dylan felt a touch of emotion. Then, he looked at the things his parents were organizing. This included, but wasn't limited to, a large pile of small snacks, oddly shaped and gaudy little toys, and various kinds of Muggle clothes…
Dylan opened his mouth. He actually wanted to say that he basically had no use for these things. He didn't like the snacks. He couldn't wear the clothes to school. As for those little toys... there was no need to even mention them. He had absolutely no interest in any of it.
But after all, his mum and dad had put in so much thought and effort, and spent quite a bit of money, just to create this surprise. Dylan thought for a moment, considering how he should act when he woke up tomorrow morning to make it look good. And how he could avoid appearing overly dramatic.
"Is there a spell for acting?" Dylan sighed inwardly. His invisible form gently floated up, then passed directly through the wall and into his bedroom. He didn't bother re-entering his pet space to discuss Ravenclaw's legacy or the palace itself. Instead, he simply closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep.
Since arriving here, a problem that had once plagued Dylan had resolved itself effortlessly. He used to suffer from insomnia! However, now, perhaps thanks to having a younger body, he could simply close his eyes and fall asleep instantly. And his sleep quality was exceptionally good. This feeling became even more profound after he began learning magic. Moreover, he rarely had any dreams at night. Sleeping soundly until morning was something he hadn't experienced for a very long time in his previous life.
The night passed without a word. When he woke up the next morning, Dylan sat up in bed and stretched.
He had to admit, sleeping at home was quite comfortable. No one ever disturbed him. He didn't even need to use spells to take precautions against being woken up. His mum and dad would try their best to keep the noise down so as not to disturb him. Of course, it was also possible that his mum and dad were still asleep themselves.
Dylan got out of bed, put on his clothes and shoes, and snapped his fingers softly. Magic swept over him, quickly cleaning him up. Dylan pricked up his ears. He didn't hear any movement outside. After waiting a moment, he opened the door. The wooden floor let out a faint creak.
He immediately spotted his parents at the end of the hallway. The Hawkwoods were bundled in fluffy dressing gowns. Maeve's hair was a bit messy and sticking up. Hubert's appearance was even worse; he was rubbing his eyes, yawning, leaning against the wall, and occasionally his head would droop, looking like he was about to doze off. He held a coffee mug in his hand and was about to take another sip when Dylan opened the door.
Hubert was startled when the door suddenly swung open. But he quickly recovered, hastily placing his coffee in a nearby recessed slot. Then, he quickly pulled Maeve, who also looked quite drowsy. Seeing Dylan open the door, both of them said with thick, sleepy voices, "Merry Christmas, little one!"
Dylan looked at them, a helpless smile playing on his lips. "I'm not little anymore." He walked forward. He noticed the banner his parents were holding. He glanced at it; it looked like his mum and dad had written it themselves.
"Haven't you grown up? Aren't you still a little child?" Hubert mumbled.
"Merry Christmas, Mum and Dad," Dylan chuckled. "Is this my surprise? I'm so happy, and I love you both!"
"We love you too," Maeve said with a gentle expression. "Come into the living room and take a look." Maeve slipped the banner into her husband's hand. Then, she took Dylan's hand and led him towards the living room.
At this moment, the sky was not yet fully bright. Maeve's hand was warm. As she led Dylan, her thumb gently rubbed his wrist. Her pyjamas still carried the faint scent of lavender, mixed with a rather strong coffee aroma, drifting into Dylan's nose. The scent made Dylan's nose tingle a little. He sniffed softly, enduring it.
"Guess what Santa Claus brought you this time?" Maeve said softly.
Hubert followed behind the mother and son. "There really should be a Santa Claus in this world, right? After all, there's magic."
Dylan looked back at him. "Actually, Dad, if you put it that way, everyone is Santa Claus. Not just wizards who can do magic, ordinary people too."
Hubert blinked in surprise. "How do you mean?"
Dylan smiled. "Because you two are my Santa Claus!"
Hubert paused, then burst out laughing. "Hey! You rascal, does learning magic make your tongue sweeter?"
Dylan stuck out his tongue. Only when he was with his mum and dad did he feel like he was truly a little child. This feeling was something he had never experienced, not even when he was with older figures like Professor McGonagall.
Maeve covered her mouth and chuckled. "It seems our son really has grown up a bit."
Dylan snorted lightly, then lifted his chin. "Of course, who do you think my parents are?"
The three of them entered the living room. Outside the floor-to-ceiling window, a grey-blue morning mist hung. The daylight, like soaked cotton, seeped in through the gaps in the curtains. Dancing flames flickered in the fireplace, casting swaying lights onto Dylan's parents' dressing gowns.
Hubert, completely without decorum, was the first to curl up on the rug, then let out a huge yawn. "Good heavens, I didn't realize preparing all this would take so long. I'm absolutely exhausted!"
Maeve gently nudged her husband's thigh with her foot. "Don't say such things."
Hubert pouted but nodded anyway.
"Come on, son, these are all the things your mum and I prepared yesterday, one by one, into gift boxes." Hubert beckoned to Dylan. Maeve led Dylan over. Sitting on the sofa, Dylan took two steps forward and, along with his dad, knelt on the rug.
"Whatever gift you want, it should be here!" Hubert said confidently.
The Christmas tree in front of the sofa was adorned with decorations. The statue at the very top still stood upright, spear in hand. Dylan hadn't even glanced at the statue since entering the living room.
Maeve reached for a gift box and began to fiddle with it. "How about we open this one first?" The gift box was bulging, and the wrapping paper had crooked snowmen printed on it.
"Did Dad wrap this?"
Maeve laughed and nodded. "You guessed right. Yesterday, he even got the tape stuck to his fingers. I thought he was going to give you his hand as a Christmas present!"
Hubert's eyes widened. "Wife! Why are you telling the lad everything? My hands have other uses! You, wife, should know that perfectly well!" Hubert winked at Maeve. Maeve paused, a blush rising to her cheeks, and then she glared fiercely at her husband.
—This old rogue! How could he say such things in front of the child! She'd definitely have to punish him tonight!
Maeve cleared her throat, changing the subject. "Here, open it up and see." She handed the long, rectangular gift box to Dylan. Dylan took it and tore open the colourful paper, revealing a wooden easel and a full set of paints.
Hubert also raised his head, his eyes darting towards Dylan. "I remember you saying you wanted to learn to paint when you were little. This set is supposed to be very good; you can take it back to school to use in your art class."
Dylan was stunned for a moment, fiddling with the easel in his hands, then he couldn't help but laugh out loud. "Dad, our school doesn't teach painting."
Speaking of his earlier desire to learn painting, it was because he hadn't yet known that he was in the Harry Potter world. At that time, he was solely focused on what he would do in the future—preferably a job that was both easy and profitable. And with his memories from his previous life, he had some impressions of uniquely styled paintings. If he could roughly recreate them, he might have a chance to become a painter.
In this era, painters were still relatively rare. Of course, he meant famous painters, or rather—artists. However, when he simply tried to sketch the images he remembered, another problem arose: his drawings were simply dreadful. So bad, they were almost unbearable to look at! So, in the end, Dylan gave up on that idea.
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