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"Ugh…"
Albert groggily pushed himself upright and shook his head, trying to dispel the lingering haze clouding his mind. His vision swam for a moment before settling—and that was when he noticed Harry sitting beside him, frozen stiff, eyes stretched wide in disbelief.
"What's wrong?" Albert asked, his voice hoarse from sleep.
"Uncle Albert… you… you…" Harry stammered, lifting a trembling finger and pointing straight at him. His mouth opened and closed several times, but no coherent words came out.
Albert raised a hand to his face and immediately felt the familiar texture of short, damp fur beneath his fingers. He sighed softly.
"This is my curse," he said helplessly.
"C-Curse?" Harry blinked. Then something clicked. He suddenly remembered Albert mentioning the Moon Spirit Flower and a curse the night before.
"That's right—exactly what you're thinking," Albert said, confirming it calmly. "This curse turned my face into a cat's… and it also made me very weak."
Harry swallowed, staring at Albert's feline features with a mixture of shock and concern. Before he could ask anything else, Albert stood up and glanced at the wall clock.
Just past seven in the morning.
Grrrrumble~
A loud sound broke the silence.
Harry froze, his face flushing red as his stomach betrayed him.
Albert turned his head slightly. "Can you cook?"
Harry nodded quickly. "A little!"
"That'll do." Albert gave a small nod and headed upstairs. "Make something simple. I'll wash up. Lucifer, draw me some hot water."
"Yes, yes," came the crackling voice from the stove.
Harry watched Albert disappear up the stairs before hurrying into the kitchen. He tied on an apron and began preparing breakfast with careful movements, afraid of breaking something in the cluttered castle.
"Give me the eggshells."
"Ah!" Harry jumped.
Mr. Lucifer suddenly popped out from the stove, his fiery eyes gleaming. His appearance was abrupt as ever.
"O-Okay, Mr. Lucifer."
Water soon echoed through the pipes upstairs. Half an hour later, Harry carried a classic English breakfast to the dining table—eggs, toast, sausages, and beans arranged as neatly as he could manage.
Albert's footsteps soon followed. He descended the stairs wearing neatly pressed khaki trousers and an avocado-colored knit sweater. The fur on his cat face was still slightly damp, giving him an oddly gentle look.
"What are your plans for today?" Albert asked as he sat down.
Harry thought for a moment. "I was thinking of washing the curtains, sofa covers, and throw pillows first."
He hesitated, then added, "Do you have anything planned, Uncle Albert?"
Albert shook his head. As long as the boy had some sense of cleanliness, he had no objections.
Ordinary people couldn't imagine just how much clutter had accumulated inside this castle. Even after working nonstop from noon until evening yesterday, Harry had only managed to make the living room look barely livable.
At this rate, he might still be cleaning this place months from now.
Once you start, time disappears.
"Come over after breakfast," Albert said. He finished eating first and poured the leftovers directly into Lucifer, who happily accepted them. Then Albert headed into the basement.
A short while later, he returned carrying a full set of glass alchemy equipment, which he placed carefully on the kitchen counter.
Harry hurriedly finished his meal and carried his dishes to the sink. "Uncle Albert, what's all this?"
"A siphon pot," Albert replied. He then pulled several small jars from beneath the cupboard.
He handed one to Harry. Inside were pale, knobby root segments.
"These are mandrake roots. Mandrake has many magical properties and is used in a wide variety of potions—physical, mental, even… intimate ones. It's considered a universal herb."
As he spoke, Albert filled a kettle with cold water and dropped a single mandrake root inside.
"One root per kettle. Always start with cold water."
Harry watched intently, afraid to miss even a single movement.
The other jars contained sage stems and lemon balm. After a few minutes, the water began to boil. Harry leaned closer and gasped softly.
The dull gray roots had turned the water a deep, shimmering purple.
Albert poured the liquid into the siphon pot and began the extraction. The purple liquid rose upward, mixing with the sage stems, slowly shifting into a vivid green.
When the siphoning was complete, Albert added lemon balm and stirred gently.
"What is this?" Harry asked.
"An Energy Potion."
The liquid in the cups glowed a vibrant green, like fresh spring grass touched by morning light.
Harry took a cautious sip.
Bitterness hit first—sharp and sudden.
He winced.
But immediately afterward came a refreshing sensation, like standing in a meadow after rain. His mind cleared, his body relaxed, and warmth spread through his limbs.
It felt like waking naturally after perfect sleep.
"Potion-making isn't as difficult as people imagine," Albert said, sipping his own cup. "In fact, the entire magic system isn't that complex."
He leaned against the counter and extended his hand. Magic surged in his palm—flames flickering, water flowing, green wind-like energy twisting together.
"Magic power is just a medium," he continued calmly. "The laws of the world are like countless tangled threads. Find the right path, apply the right force, and the world responds."
The magic vanished as he closed his hand.
"That's enough theory for today," Albert said lazily. "From now on, I want one cup of Energy Potion every morning. Made by you."
Harry's eyes lit up. "Yes!"
"You don't need to make breakfast," Albert added after a pause. "Unless you learn more cuisines."
English breakfast every day?
Absolutely not.
Harry smiled brightly and nodded. "Okay, Uncle Albert!"
Albert returned to the basement.
Harry turned toward the stove. "Mr. Lucifer… does that mean I can come here for breakfast every day?"
Lucifer stared at him, mouth opening and closing.
"…Yes," he said stiffly. "Your breakfast is covered."
Then he vanished back into the fire, sighing softly.
People who were never loved were like this.
Even if you placed a cake in front of them, they'd never believe it was meant for them.
Life, ah…
Harry, unaware of Lucifer's thoughts, finished the dishes and began removing curtains, pillowcases, and sofa covers. He loaded them into the washing machine, then stepped outside.
At the edge of the cliff, he strung up a long clothesline. The curtains were enormous, but with help from the flying broom, he managed.
The sun was bright today—nothing like London's endless gray rain.
As the fabric fluttered in the wind, Harry looked up at the sky, feeling lighter than he had in a long time.
Then—
A shadow crossed his vision.
At first, he thought it was a bird.
But it kept growing.
A long, thick neck. Enormous wings like a bat's. A massive body—and a long, trailing tail.
Harry's breath caught.
"Is that… a dragon??"
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