Night fell. With a dull creak of the heavy oak doors, William stepped into the old Shafiq manor, carrying his suitcase.
Compared to the suffocating, bureaucratic atmosphere of the Ministry of Magic, the air here was permeated with the faint scent of Dragon's Blood incense, making it exceptionally tranquil.
The entrance hall had a towering ceiling. The aura of accumulated years mixed with the smell of teak furniture and old parchment. A floating crystal chandelier emitted a soft glow, illuminating the ancestors dozing in several ancient portraits on the walls.
The corridor walls were lined with dark paneling, decorated with several alchemical instruments shimmering with a faint magical glow—a silent testament to the family's deep foundations.
"Young Master! You're back!"
With a crisp crack, a house-elf appeared out of thin air. It was wrapped in a clean pillowcase, its large eyes filled with eagerness as it hurriedly took the suitcase from William's hand.
"Locke has prepared dinner for you. It is your favorite French escargots and..."
"No need, Locke. I ate outside." William unfastened his cloak and handed it to the elf. As he walked deeper into the hallway, he instructed, "Take the suitcase to my room on the second floor."
"Yes, Young Master." Locke bowed deeply while clutching the suitcase, speaking in a squeaky voice. "Master is in the study drinking tea and reading the newspaper."
With that, clutching the suitcase, it trotted away on its short legs, quickly disappearing around the corner of the stairs leading to the second floor.
William nodded. He crossed the corridor lined with thick carpets, arrived at the mahogany door at the end, and gently pushed it open.
Warm, dry air wrapped in the faint scent of tea and the aroma of burning pine from the fireplace washed over him. The study was large; all four walls were lined with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, stuffed with books of various thicknesses and ancient bindings.
The fire in the fireplace was roaring, making a reassuring crackling sound.
A white-haired wizard was sunken comfortably into a deep red velvet armchair by the fire, holding the very copy of the Evening Prophet that Snape had disdained.
Hearing the door open, the old wizard didn't look up; he merely gave a casual wave of his hand.
An exquisite silver pot on the table immediately floated up, filled an empty teacup with steaming black tea, and then floated steadily in front of William.
William walked over naturally, sat in the chair opposite his father, picked up the teacup, and blew away the foam on the surface.
"So, you really inflated Fudge and that toad Umbridge?"
The speaker was the current head of the Shafiq family, William's father, Richard Shafiq.
He revealed a pair of grey-blue eyes from behind the newspaper—eyes that looked exactly like William's. There was no blame in his tone; instead, it carried a hint of amused interest.
"Can the Daily Prophet be fake?" William took a sip of tea and replied.
"Heh, the Daily Prophet also said England was a top-tier European team, and what happened?" Richard scoffed, shaking the newspaper in his hand. "You can't believe a word they say, not even the punctuation."
Having said that, the elder Shafiq lowered the newspaper and looked his son up and down, as if checking to see if he was missing any pieces.
"But since you've resigned, that means you're unemployed. That's actually quite good." Richard suddenly changed the subject, leaning forward with a persuasive tone. "Look, I'm getting on in years, and my back has been aching lately. Since you have nothing to do now, it's time you took over the position of Head of the House."
"The family businesses, the negotiations with the goblins, and those tedious accounts—they are perfect for you to manage."
He leaned back into the chair and spread his hands. "Besides, that pitiful salary you got at the Ministry is indistinguishable from zero compared to the family assets. Coming back to inherit the family business is certainly better than being bullied outside."
William put down his teacup and said calmly, "Father, you are only sixty. For a wizard, that is the golden age for venturing out. Hang in there a bit longer."
"I don't want to hang in there. I want to retire."
"Sorry to disappoint you, but I've already found a new job." William smiled, shattering his father's retirement fantasy. "Just now, I accepted an invitation from Hogwarts. I start in September, so I should be heading to the school at the end of August."
He then gave a rough account of Snape coming to ask him to be the Alchemy Professor.
As Richard listened, the expression on his face visibly collapsed, looking somewhat disappointed. "Hogwarts? What's good about that noisy place... having to deal with a bunch of chirping, half-grown wizards."
Just as the father and son were talking, William keenly felt a few gazes peering at him from under the table.
He looked down and met two snake heads that were reared up. The moment the snake heads saw William looking, they immediately shrank back into the shadows under the table with a whoosh, looking guilty.
"Come on out, Otto."
William shook his head in amusement. He reached directly under the table, grabbed a colorful, large snake, dragged it out, and placed it on his knees.
It was a very rare Runespoor, easily six or seven feet long, covered in orange scales speckled with black stripes. It looked majestic and intimidating.
It had three heads.
As soon as it came out, the head on the left appeared very enthusiastic, nuzzling affectionately against the back of William's hand. The middle head had its eyes half-closed, motionless, seemingly pondering some profound philosophical question. The head on the right was hissing wildly at William, baring its fangs, apparently very displeased about being dragged out.
William skillfully scratched the chin of the left head, soothed the grumpy brother on the right, and looked up to ask, "Has Otto been fed today?"
"Locke fed him rats at noon." Richard glanced at the snake with disdain. "But the right head is a picky eater and didn't have much of an appetite."
"Oh, that's fine. It all goes to the same stomach anyway," William replied nonchalantly.
This Runespoor named "Otto" was a rarity Richard had acquired a few years ago. William still remembered how happy his father was when he got the egg, guarding it for ages just to watch it hatch.
But a few days after it hatched, he tossed it directly to William to raise and avoided the snake like the plague ever since.
William knew that although his father wasn't a legendary Parselmouth, he could understand Parseltongue. Therefore, he strongly suspected that Otto might have said something that emotionally scarred the old man.
But no matter how much William asked, the old man kept his mouth shut and never revealed a thing.
"Since you're going to teach at Hogwarts," Richard picked up the newspaper again to block his face, his voice muffled, "take Otto with you. He's too noisy at home; the three heads are always arguing and affecting my rest."
While absent-mindedly tying the Runespoor into a knot, William said, "Taking him is no problem. But since I'm bringing a pet, can I take Locke along too? The food at Hogwarts is decent, but I'm used to Locke's cooking."
"No."
A decisive refusal came from behind the newspaper. "I'm old, my legs aren't what they used to be. I need someone to serve me."
"With your mastery of magic, a whole room of furniture could dance to serve you. You don't need a house-elf at all," William pointed out mercilessly.
Richard ignored him, rustling the newspaper loudly, pretending to be immersed in the news and completely unable to hear his son's protest.
"I shouldn't need to remind you what day it is tomorrow," he said suddenly, turning his head back with a serious expression. "Remember to get up a bit early."
"I know. In all these years, I've never needed you to remind me," William said calmly.