Inside his room, Leonard gripped a twig he'd picked up from the roadside, using it as a makeshift wand while carefully tracing the motions exactly as written in the book.
Beside him, the Chomping Cabbage swayed in time with his movements, like a puppy eyeing a bone.
"Lumos," Leonard intoned, flicking the twig.
Nothing happened. But he wasn't disappointed—if anything, he expected it.
Wandless casting was an advanced skill. How could a beginner like him, who hadn't even learned real spells yet, hope to pull it off so easily?
It wasn't that wizards couldn't use magic without wands. A History of Magic even noted that African wizards, lacking suitable wand wood, often cast without them. But it took immense skill, and their progress was far slower than wizards elsewhere.
Maybe, with enough practice, Leonard could learn that too.
It looked foolish without any visible effect, but he stuck with it, making sure every movement matched the textbook exactly. That way, he wouldn't risk learning bad habits.
During his practice, Londo stopped by several times under various pretexts. But seeing Leonard working so earnestly, he said nothing—only returned his textbooks one by one.
It seemed his grandfather had finally given up on his own hopeless attempts.
Leonard wiped sweat from his brow, massaged his sore wrist, and decided to take a break with something different.
Just then, a loud knock rattled his door.
"Again?" Leonard muttered. He waved at the Chomping Cabbage, waiting for it to burrow back into the pot before calling, "Coming!"
When he opened the door, there stood his grandfather, Londo, holding a birdcage with a gray owl inside.
So, even the owl was being returned.
Leonard took the cage with a knowing look.
Londo studied his sweat-soaked grandson, silent for a moment, then said, "I'm heading back."
He pressed the fifty-some Galleons left from their shopping into Leonard's hand.
"Huh?" Leonard blinked, momentarily thrown off.
Only then did he notice the suitcase at Londo's feet.
"I said I'm going back," Londo repeated. "The farm still needs tending, and the rent here is too expensive."
Leonard opened his mouth to suggest they share a room, but froze mid-thought.
Once he got his wand, he'd be sneaking into Knockturn Alley at night. Sharing a room with Londo would guarantee being caught.
And truth be told, this was probably Londo's way of admitting defeat. Magic was right in front of him, yet he could never touch it.
"Be careful on your own. Don't wander. When term starts, stay with the other Hogwarts students here," Londo said, voice flat but words laced with concern. Then he hefted his suitcase and turned to leave.
"Remember to write home. Don't bother coming back for Christmas—it's too far. I'll meet you at King's Cross for summer break."
He walked away, leaving Leonard with the sight of a lonely figure growing smaller in the distance.
Leonard sighed as he watched him go.
Not out of familial warmth—Londo had never been much of a grandfather. He sighed only for an old man whose last hope had slipped away.
Maybe I'll bring him some unusual plants someday. It might cheer him up. He's not young anymore.
Shaking his head, Leonard looked down at the birdcage in his hand.
Inside, the gray owl stared back at him with wide eyes.
"I don't think I've named you yet," Leonard said, tilting his head. The owl tilted its head right back.
"Ugh, naming is such a pain. You're gray, so… Gray it is." He casually christened the poor bird, then turned to his desk to write a letter.
He remembered Hogwarts' acceptance letter had asked for a reply. He'd completely forgotten until now—probably Londo had too.
Leonard quickly scribbled a response, confirming he'd received the notice and would enroll as scheduled.
"Take this to Hogwarts, alright? Hogwarts," Leonard instructed, tying the letter and passing it to Gray. The owl took it in its beak and flew straight out the window.
"Not even a moment's hesitation. Owls really are reliable," Leonard murmured.
He wondered how they always found their destination, but dismissed the thought.
"Never mind. Time to clear my head. Let's try brewing Essence of Dittany."
He tidied his desk, cleared some space, and set down a lush clump of dittany he'd bought earlier from Slug & Jiggers Apothecary—ready to test how much stronger a potion became when brewed with an enhanced plant.