Chapter 165: Am I Even Your Son?!
Dylan wasn't in a hurry to check on his new house. It had been a while since he was last home.
These past few days, he had either been experimenting on a bunch of ugly goblins or furiously casting Unforgivable Curses at a diary.
Or perhaps he had been peeling off Basilisk scales and letting its blood drain.
He was practically numb.
Right now, all he wanted was to go home, chat with his parents, and eat some of his mom's white-people food.
—And surprisingly, yes, it was true.
After eating various global cuisines at Hogwarts, Dylan genuinely missed his mom's pure-bred white-people food.
Like potato salad, English muffins, shepherd's pie...
While these dishes weren't particularly varied, they were, after all, made by Mrs. Maeve herself. Dylan had been eating them for years and was long accustomed to them.
He quickly stepped out of the car and headed towards his villa.
It was a summer afternoon, and even though it was nearing evening, the weather was still a bit hot.
A moderate number of cicadas chirped in the branches.
The trees by the roadside were lush, casting dense green shadows.
Not-so-scorching sunlight filtered through the gaps in the branches and leaves, scattering onto the ground, forming patches of orange-gold light.
Arriving at his front door, Dylan raised his hand and gently knocked.
Almost instantly, the door opened.
Hubert and Maeve's surprised faces appeared before Dylan's eyes.
Mrs. Maeve's eyes lit up, and she quickly stepped forward, pulling Dylan into a hug.
"Honey, you're finally home~ Why didn't you tell us beforehand? Your dad could have picked you up at the station."
Dylan smiled, gently hugging his mother back. "No need for you to run around in this heat. I just took a car home. Mom, did you forget? You and Dad gave me a lot of money; I just took a taxi back."
Hubert mumbled, "Those cars are so uncomfortable to sit in, not comfortable at all. Our own car is much better!"
Dylan blinked. "Mom, aren't you going to let me in? The cold air is almost gone."
Maeve finally realized, nodding repeatedly. "Oh, dear, I'm so excited! Come in, darling."
She released Dylan, stepping aside.
Dylan rubbed his fingers—they still had some egg liquid splattered from cooking.
He stepped inside.
The air conditioning was on full blast.
Dylan said, "Don't turn the fan too high, or you might catch a cold."
Maeve nodded repeatedly. "Understood. My baby's grown up, and he's even concerned about his parents now~"
Dylan's eyelids twitched. "Haven't I always cared about you?"
Maeve slipped into the kitchen, her voice drifting out. "Honey, you always make me feel like you're like my grandfather, not cute at all!"
Dylan took a breath. "Dad said that all British people are very serious, and only those who aren't very smart can be called cute."
Hubert's eyes widened. Sensing the chilling gaze from the kitchen, he immediately raised his hands.
"Wife, I swear I'm not talking about you—no, I mean, I never said such a thing! My goodness, what kind of person would say such terrible things?"
Hubert shouted, completely lacking the composure of a middle-aged man, and hastily explained himself to his wife.
"Although it's our son saying such things, I must say, Dylan, how could you say something like that? It's so ungentlemanly!"
Hubert glared at Dylan, then continued to look at Maeve. "Of course, I must also explain for our son. Perhaps he meant that 'not very smart' refers to those who don't know how to appreciate you; only they can be called 'cute'."
"And someone as intelligent and charming as you, wife, you're practically my Queen!"
"Furthermore, in my life, wife, you are absolutely the symbol of wisdom! A perfect combination of beauty and charm. My God, you must be a precious gift from heaven!"
Hubert looked at Maeve in the kitchen with deep affection, his eyes full of tenderness.
"Wife, please forgive our clumsy son. Perhaps after he became a wizard, his troublesome mouth just loves to blurt things out."
Dylan:?
Hello?
Excuse me?
Dylan was truly defeated by his parents.
So...
Can we eat now?
"Mom, I'm hungry~~"
"Oh, come quickly and eat, the food is already prepared."
Maeve had originally been staring intently at Hubert, and he at her.
Who knows what they were staring at, but their gazes felt like they were practically melting together.
Hearing Dylan's voice, Maeve finally snapped out of it and quickly walked out of the kitchen, carrying a platter of Stargazy Pie.
"Honey, come take a look, this is a grand dish!"
Dylan paused, staring at the platter in his mother's hands—
Several fish were neatly arranged, their heads stubbornly poking out of the pie crust, pointing straight up into the air.
The fish heads' round eyes seemed to be staring directly at him.
—Under the warm indoor lighting, it exuded an indescribable eeriness.
It truly was a "grand" dish.
"Why does this feel so much like the goblins' stare eyes when I was researching what would happen if I used Corpse Bloom on living goblins?"
Dylan's mouth twitched uncontrollably.
—He just wanted to come home and relax.
Why did he suddenly feel like he was back in his laboratory?
"It seems Dylan likes it very much, wife, your pie is truly perfect!" Hubert took the Stargazy Pie from Maeve's hands, extended his arm, and placed it directly in front of Dylan. "Come, son, eat more. Your mommy specially made this for you."
Dylan: "."
Maeve slowly smiled, the warm yellow light illuminating her face, making her delicate skin appear exceptionally soft. The few fine lines around her eyes, left by time, far from detracting from her beauty, instead added a touch of seasoned elegance.
Dylan looked at his mother's expression, paused, and still said nothing, merely letting the couple display their affection in front of their son.
Unexpectedly, Maeve suddenly spoke.
"Don't snatch food from our baby. Dylan rarely comes home. If you want to eat this pie, I'll make it separately for you next time."
Hubert immediately shook his head. "No, darling, how could I bear for you to toil in the kitchen fumes? Don't worry, I won't snatch this pie from Dylan."
With that, he turned to Dylan, smiling. "Son, come on, eat more."
Dylan: "!!!"
—Am I still your son?!
Dylan felt as if his two old folks, ever since he received his Hogwarts acceptance letter, and as they gained more time and wealth, were becoming increasingly lovey-dovey.
Was this their second spring?
Or were his parents no longer considering him their son?
Did they perhaps already have a second account?
Grinding his teeth, Dylan glanced at his mother's belly, which was encircled by one of his father's arms.
—Don't even say it!
That possibility seemed quite high!
Could it be true that they had another one?!
Dylan scratched his forehead, forcing a slight curve to his lips.
Under Mrs. Maeve's expectant gaze and Mr. Hubert's narrowed eyes, he steeled himself, picked up a knife, and slowly cut into the large, strangely shaped Stargazy Pie.
He finally found an angle and cut off a small piece of the flaky crust. Before he could put it in his mouth, Mr. Hubert, unusually, released his arm from around his wife's waist and, with a swift, decisive motion, cut off another large piece, placing it in front of Dylan.
A fish head still sat firmly on it, staring straight back at Dylan.
Dylan's hand paused, and he glanced at the eager man.
"Hahahaha, son, don't look at me. Dad knows you must be very happy. Eat more, or it'll all go to waste," Hubert said with a smile. "Don't you like the food your mother made for you?"
"She woke up early this morning to prepare this pie—and I 'helped' all day long too!"
Dylan heard his father's tone and thought, Aha!
Case closed!
So, it was because he had written home saying he would be back today, and his mom specially got up early to prepare food for him.
And dragged his dad along with her.
—Perhaps a certain man, to maintain his image as a loving husband, insisted on getting up to help prepare ingredients and clean the house, even when his wife said he didn't need to.
And then this petty man bottled up his morning grumpiness all day, only to unleash it entirely on his own son?
Heh!
Dylan, seeing through him like a hawk, immediately understood his cheap dad's little scheme!
He subtly curled his lip and, under the gaze of his cheap parents, smiled as he directly speared the fish head's eyeball with his fork, then pulled it up.
Just like pulling a Mandrake.
"Eidolon Mentis."
—A spell Dylan found in an ancient spellbook, capable of directly affecting one's mind, deceiving their eyes, and making them see what isn't there.
At the same time, the grotesque fish head before Dylan's eyes gradually transformed into a string of tempting salt and pepper prawns, their shells gleaming with oil.
The dead fish eyes became the peppercorns dotted on top, exuding an enticing aroma as they warmed.
Mm~ That's more like it!
Dylan brought the fork to his mouth, chewed heartily, and then spit out the shrimp shells—which were actually some large fish bones.
This spell, after Dylan learned it, proved to be quite practical.
Those goblins were truly ugly—N times uglier than Gringotts goblins!
Sometimes, when Dylan was bleeding them dry, looking at their ugly, screeching faces was unbearable, so he would just use Eidolon Mentis to pretend he was looking at a piglet.
—While still bloody, it was certainly more bearable.
Watching Dylan bite off the fish head in one go and then slurp up the meat and seasoning, Hubert's eyes widened slightly.
Dylan smiled at him. "It's so delicious, Dad. You should try some too. After all, it's a dish Mom made 'personally.' If you don't eat any, are you perhaps disliking Mom's cooking?"
Hubert's expression froze. "Hahahaha, I—"
Dylan didn't give him a chance to speak, directly cutting a piece of fish head and pie and placing it on his dad's plate.
"Come on, sit down and eat. Why are you still standing there?" Dylan urged.
Hubert swallowed, looking at the dish he disliked the most—he remembered his childhood, when his mother forced him to eat several fish heads, resulting in nightmares for several nights.
Forcing a smile, Hubert was about to find an excuse to refuse.
Only to hear Maeve's gentle voice.
"Our son gave it to you; just use your fork. It's also a token of his affection."
Dylan nodded. "Yes, Dad, it's my heart—felt—thanks!"
Hubert stared at the fish head on his plate, his Adam's apple involuntarily bobbing up and down, his expression extremely conflicted.
Finally, he resigned himself, slowly reached out, and under the gaze of his son and wife, picked up his fork, gently speared the fish head, paused for several seconds, then brought it to his mouth.
He bit off a piece of the fish head meat, chewing mechanically, his smile incredibly forced, the curve of his lips stiff and wooden.
—Dylan even felt that his dad wasn't eating fish head meat, but rather his beloved pets.
"Oh, right, with Voldemort's Horcrux, I don't really need those cockroaches and spiders for spell mastery quests anymore. I'll just... get rid of all of them at once, or maybe throw some into the forest."
Dylan watched his dad's difficult swallowing motion.
—His throat seemed to be caught on something, the veins in his neck bulging slightly. It took a great effort to swallow that mouthful of shredded meat.
"Ah! So delicious!"
Hubert forced a casual smile, picked up the drink next to him, and gulped down a large mouthful, trying to wash away the unspeakable taste in his mouth.
Dylan chuckled. "Then—Dad, would you like some more?"
"How could I do that? Your mother made this especially for you, good boy, eat quickly. I'll just eat these."
Hubert placed the half-eaten fish head on the edge of his plate and even piled some other dishes on top, trying to cover the dead fish eye that was staring at him.
"Speaking of which, did you encounter any interesting things at school this semester? Tell your mother; let's all broaden our horizons."
Hubert immediately changed the subject.
Maeve also became interested, looking gently at Dylan. "Yes, honey, is the second year different from the first? Is the workload too heavy?"
She piled food onto Dylan's plate.
"Your classmates and teachers even wrote to us."
Dylan paused in his eating, looking up. "My classmates? Wrote to you? Who, and why didn't you tell me about this?"
Maeve blinked. "Oh? You didn't know?"
Hubert interjected, "It was your Charms professor, Professor Flitwick, and a student named Vera who sent us a letter together."
Dylan subtly narrowed his eyes. "And? What did they talk about?"
Maeve smiled shyly. "Your classmates and teachers are so enthusiastic. They immediately praised us for our good upbringing, for raising such an excellent child."
"Just that?"
"Of course not. They asked about your growth and development—the teachers at that school are really responsible."
"My growth and development?"
....
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