They crossed the familiar threshold of the front door, and the immediate change in atmosphere was palpable. Gone was the damp, ancient smell of stone and magic that clung to Hogwarts; here, the air instantly filled with the comforting, rich, and utterly unique aroma of home cooking—a complex, layered scent that no House-Elf, no matter how skilled, could ever truly replicate.
Allen dropped his heavy trunk with a satisfying thud, the tension from a year of intense academic pressure, hidden magical duels, and existential threats finally beginning to dissipate like steam.
He was instantly enveloped in a hug from his older brother, Albert, who was laughing and already trading familiar, teasing anecdotes about the train journey. Their mother, Morgan LeFay Harris, emerged from the kitchen, a whirlwind of domestic magic and maternal affection, a huge, happy smile plastered across her face.
Since Allen was the baby of the Harris sons and the only one currently attending Hogwarts, Mrs. Harris had keenly felt his absence over the long months. She had meticulously adjusted her entire schedule for this specific day, dedicating the entire late afternoon and evening to preparing an elaborate, multi-course feast comprising every single one of Allen's most cherished comfort foods, from savory stews to delicate pastries.
"Sit, my brilliant boy, sit! You look thinner than I remember! The food at Hogwarts may be grand, I'm sure, but tell me honestly, does it have the soul of a mother's cooking?" Morgan asked with a warm, triumphant smile, her eyes sparkling with motherly pride.
Without waiting for a response, which she already knew, she served him a colossal, steaming bowl of rich, velvety cream of mushroom soup, the aroma promising instant comfort.
The entire family quickly settled into the established rhythm of the meal—a rare, perfect moment of easy togetherness.
As they ate, Allen launched into a vivid, often dramatic, recount of the fascinating, hilarious, and sometimes genuinely terrifying events that had transpired at Hogwarts. His stories were so detailed and captivating, peppered with sharp, witty observations about his classmates and teachers, that it felt as if the entire family was experiencing the magic, the mysteries, and the mischief firsthand.
He carefully omitted the part about the Philosopher's Stone, replacing it with a vague mention of detention and a dangerous nighttime adventure.
"I still can't wrap my head around who managed to break the streak and snatch that trophy this year," Lenn, his middle brother, finally confessed, a serious look creasing his brow. Before Allen could even offer a tease, Lenn shook his head and sighed deeply, running a hand through his hair.
"It has to be Slytherin again, doesn't it? If they've pulled it off, that's their seventh consecutive House Cup! Honestly, their collective arrogance must be entirely unbearable right now. I can only imagine Malfoy's gloating."
Allen took a deliberately slow, exaggerated sip of water, a smug little smile dancing subtly on his lips. He let the silence stretch for a moment, savoring the dramatic tension. "Well, you can stop imagining Malfoy's face, Lenn. Because this year, the victory was ours."
Lenn's fork clattered audibly against his plate, and his jaw actually dropped open in genuine astonishment. The rest of the table looked equally stunned, their conversations freezing instantly.
"Ravenclaw," Allen confirmed cheerfully, pushing a slice of bread around his soup bowl. "Our house, Ravenclaw, finally won the House Cup. And more importantly, we won it by a truly massive, insurmountable margin over all the other houses—even after Dumbledore resorted to pulling out every last-minute, arbitrary point-giving trick in his arsenal for Gryffindor."
"You are utterly magnificent! Simply superb, Allen!" Lenn roared, instantly raising his glass—not of wine, but of a fizzy pumpkin juice—to Allen with immense, almost vengeful satisfaction. "Seven years! You actually broke the seven-year jinx! I deeply wish I had been born a year later so I could have been there for the sheer spectacle of it. I bet the pure-blood pride of those little snakes is absolutely curdled right now."
The cheers subsided, and the conversation flowed easily, inevitably shifting to academics. After Allen started picking politely at a lemon curd tart, his father, Owen, leaned forward, adopting a polite but focused demeanor.
He was far more interested in the intellectual achievement than the competitive one. "Allen, aside from the team effort, how were your personal examination results? Were the new classes what you expected?"
"I secured perfect grades. Straight 'Outstandings' in every single subject, ranking first not just in my year, but achieving the highest cumulative personal point score in the entire Ravenclaw community," Allen stated simply, his expression as calm and measured as if he were discussing the completely unremarkable weather outside.
The effect of his quiet, concise announcement was immediate and total.
Albert was so profoundly stunned that he froze with a piece of bacon halfway to his mouth, staring blankly at his youngest brother. "Wait, are you… are you being serious? You achieved full marks across the board? All 'Os'?"
Lenn stared wide-eyed, momentarily speechless, trying to calculate the sheer difficulty of such a feat.
Owen, Allen's father, found the news of his son's perfect academic scores slightly less astonishing than the others. After all, it wasn't unheard of for an extremely talented student to achieve all 'Os' on their final fifth-year OWLs.
What truly astonished him, however, was the combination of perfect academic performance and the highest number of personal bonus points—a reward usually reserved for the most adventurous, rule-breaking Gryffindors.
He had known how exceptionally bright his son was even before Hogwarts, but magic wasn't purely a theoretical science that could be mastered with just a good brain; it required innate skill, flawless focus, and years of difficult practice.
Allen, sensing their lingering skepticism despite his calm delivery, merely chuckled, sprang out of his seat, and ran up the stairs to his bedroom. He tore open his suitcase—where he had hastily crammed his robes when changing into Muggle clothes on the train—and carefully extracted the crisp, folded Hogwarts report card hidden within a sleeve.
Returning to the dining hall, he dramatically handed the undeniable, authenticated proof to his father, Owen. Allen then calmly forked another white sausage from the platter; he had eaten virtually nothing substantial on the Hogwarts Express, having zero interest in the common, sugary snacks like Bertie Bott's or Chocolate Frogs.
"'Personal bonus points hit a record high!'" Owen read the excited, heavily underlined marginal note in Professor Flitwick's neat, swirling script, his eyes wide as if he couldn't tear himself away from the document's shocking figures.
Morgan LeFay immediately walked over, her face radiant with a joy that bordered on disbelief, and kissed the certificate with overwhelming pride.
Daisy and Lenn exchanged a look of utter, humbled astonishment. Their baby brother hadn't just excelled; he had surpassed even Lenn's own impressive academic achievements at Hogwarts, which was a considerable feat in itself.
Albert remained the calmest after Allen. Having fought side-by-side with Allen against fully trained adult wizards intent on stealing the Philosopher's Stone, he truly understood the young boy's capabilities.
Compared to the fact that his pre-teen brother had strategically outmaneuvered and defeated a corrupt wizard, securing perfect marks on a first-year examination suddenly seemed… utterly unremarkable, a foregone conclusion.
"I am absolutely framing this certificate and hanging it on the living room wall immediately!" Morgan LeFay announced happily, already walking toward the living room and considering the most prominent spot for the display, ignoring the chaos of the dinner table.
"Allen, you are going to be a bona fide legend in Hogwarts history," Lenn declared, a touch of envious admiration subtly coloring his voice. Though he was a diligent student, he had never been truly outstanding in that solitary, world-beating way.
Allen smiled modestly, got up, brewed a pot of his signature strong, dark black tea, and served everyone, trying gently to calm his still-shocked family members and steer the conversation back to mundane matters.
When he finally sat down again, his father, Owen, was already deep in thought, his brow furrowed as he considered what reward could possibly match such an extraordinary achievement. Owen decided against the usual gift of money or objects. "Allen, I know you've earned something incredible. What would you like as a reward? Anything at all?" he asked, deciding it was best to consult the recipient first.
"I want to travel. I want to see different sights, explore, and just… relax, Father," Allen stated clearly. He had free time, and thanks to his recent ventures and shrewd investments, he had more than enough money for himself.
After a year of being confined within the vast but still ultimately restrictive castle walls—Hogwarts, for all its wonder, was still a highly monitored boarding school—Allen felt a genuine, desperate yearning to see the world beyond the grounds and the forest.
Crucially, he wanted to begin applying the advanced observational and spatial skills he had learned from the Centaurs to the wider world, observing how magic interacted with different environments.
Owen Harris nodded slowly, a touch of genuine emotion entering his voice. "That's a truly wonderful idea, son. It's true, our family hasn't taken a proper, sustained vacation together in far too long. We all need a few days off to just relax, reconnect, and breathe."
Owen felt a sharp pang of guilt. As a middle-aged professional, work and the constant stress of financial worries had piled up, leaving him precious little focused, shared time with his children.
Allen was so self-sufficient and extraordinary that Owen worried he hadn't given his children enough simple, shared attention, feeling he was constantly playing catch-up with his youngest son's achievements.
Seeing the expectant, yet slightly guilty, look on his father's face, Allen swallowed the words he was about to say. He had initially planned to ask for permission to go on a solo road trip to see the world and engage in some advanced, secretive magical study far from oversight. He hadn't anticipated his father would immediately interpret the request as a desire for a family trip.
But when he reconsidered the look on his father's face, it made perfect sense; he was still only eleven, barely an adult in the magical sense, and a family vacation would be a treasured, necessary memory before the shadows of the next year descended.
The three older children, already working their respective jobs, immediately understood their father's subtle intention to make amends for lost time, and none of them raised an objection. The youngest sister, Emily, a flurry of boundless energy and pure excitement, instantly jumped around the room, clutching her fluffy toy rabbit.
The conversation quickly shifted from Allen's Hogwarts triumphs to the far more complex logistical topic of vacation planning. Albert and Lenn, the intellectual brothers, passionately argued for mysterious, adventure-filled destinations steeped in ancient wizarding legends and potentially dangerous magical sites.
Their mother, Morgan LeFay, and their sister Daisy, however, were firmly in favour of the immediate, simple pleasure of the seaside; what fun would it be to swim, relax, and enjoy ice cream in this exceptionally warm summer weather!
Taking into account everyone's varied preferences—and most critically, ensuring the destination was suitable for little Emily—Owen finally decided on the beach.
After Allen spent three contented days at home, helping Emily with her reading and patiently playing with her, the family finally managed to adjust all their busy schedules and set off on their trip. They chose to visit the tranquil, sun-drenched beaches of Cornwall, a coastal area known for its mild, almost Mediterranean climate.
The day they set off was utterly perfect; the sky was a deep, cloudless azure, and the sun shone brilliantly. Their destination was a secluded, crescent-shaped, golden beach, framed by lush green cliffs and a shimmering turquoise bay that offered a stunning, uninterrupted view of an ancient offshore lighthouse.
With one of Britain's mildest climates, the occasional cluster of swaying palm trees, and crystal-clear waters, this hidden Cornish paradise possessed a distinctly tropical, forgotten feel that instantly put the family at ease.
"Father, what an absolutely perfect place for a summer vacation!" Allen exclaimed, breathing in the salty, clean air, letting it fill his lungs. As he walked across the warm sand, he watched Daisy, already stripped down to her bright swimsuit, dragging a screaming, ecstatic Emily toward the crashing waves.
Daisy was smiling broadly, running toward the cool sea like a child herself, fully embracing the pure freedom of the summer.
Allen stopped at the edge of the blanket, watching the immediate, unadulterated joy radiating from his family. He realized that this was a different kind of magic entirely—a simpler, more immediate, and more profound kind than any complex spell he had learned at Hogwarts.
The Centaurs had spoken of war, of destiny, and of the need for profound, esoteric knowledge to survive the coming conflict. But sometimes, Allen mused, the greatest defense against the looming darkness was simply finding moments to cherish and protect the sheer, unadulterated happiness of a family day at the beach.
He felt a renewed surge of quiet determination—he would master the secrets of the stars, not just for power, but to ensure moments like this could continue forever. He quickly stripped off his shirt and joined the chaos, racing his sister into the refreshing embrace of the cool Cornish sea.
The sun beat down, instantly warming the exposed skin on his back. The waves were gentle, pushing cool foam up the golden sand and retreating with a rhythmic, soothing sound that drowned out all thought of potions and professors.
Lenn and Albert immediately set up a complex, multi-layered sandcastle, immediately incorporating advanced structural concepts—a fortress, naturally—with protective wards drawn into the damp sand. Daisy, meanwhile, was patiently attempting to teach Emily to float safely in the shallow water, her laughter echoing down the beach.
Morgan and Owen sat side-by-side on the beach chairs, sipping chilled tea and watching their children, the look of profound contentment and rest on their faces a reward in itself for Allen.