Early the next morning.
The sky looked as if it were veiled by a vast gray curtain. Heavy clouds pressed down low, allowing not a single ray of sunlight to penetrate. The air was permeated with the damp, metallic scent of soil.
The Shafiq family's private cemetery lay within a forest of fir trees on the hill behind the manor. Silence reigned all around, broken only by the rustling sound of the wind sweeping through the treetops.
Two figures clad in black robes stood before a white marble tombstone. A bouquet of white lilies, glistening with dew, had already been placed upon the plinth—William had just set them down.
Having stepped aside, William watched in silence as Richard bent down. That hand, usually so firm when gripping a wand or a newspaper, now trembled slightly as he gently laid the flowers he was holding before the headstone.
Engraved in gold lettering on the stone was a concise and solemn inscription:
[Diana Shafiq | Born 20 December 1935 | Died 28 June 1976]
William stood quietly behind his father, letting the cold morning breeze ruffle the tips of his hair.
Richard murmured to the headstone for a while, his voice low and rambling. He seemed to be recounting the family's trivial affairs over the past year and updating her on their son, while also sounding like he was complaining about some troublesome matters he had encountered.
After a long while, Richard straightened his back, quickly reverting to his demeanor as the stern head of the house.
"Let's go," Richard said in a deep voice.
William took one last deep look at the name. "Goodbye, Mum," he whispered softly.
The moment he turned to leave, William's gaze grew somewhat distant.
Strictly speaking, he was not a native of this world.
Thirty years ago, when he was born into this ancient pure-blood family with his memories from a past life intact, he quickly realized he had arrived in the world of the novel Harry Potter.
However, since he had read the books at a young age in his previous life and so many years had passed since his crossing, many specific details had long since blurred. He only remembered the general main plot and some key time nodes.
But this didn't stop him from using this vague "foresight" to accomplish some significant things.
For instance, during the darkest period of the First Wizarding War, as one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight, the Shafiq family faced immense pressure to pick a side.
At the time, the vast majority of pure-blood families fanatically supported Voldemort's theory of "Wizarding Supremacy," and many family members scrambled to join the ranks of the Death Eaters.
Richard, too, had wavered for a time. After all, he also believed in "Wizarding Supremacy," but he understood that this war was destined to be tragic, and choosing the wrong side would end badly.
Moreover, as the head of the Shafiq family, he represented not just himself, but the attitude of the entire clan.
It was William, having just graduated from Hogwarts at the time, who had an all-night conversation with his father in the study, strongly opposing that choice.
"Voldemort never wants friends, only servants."
Richard still remembered William's gritted-teeth declaration vividly: "Even if you go to him with the same ideals, that madman won't treat you as an equal. The Shafiq family does not need to be servants to anyone, nor does it need to be cannon fodder for so-called glory."
Under William's resolute stance, Richard finally decided to wait and see. He chose to offer only verbal support—at most donating some gold to the Dark Lord's cause—but did not personally participate in any Death Eater operations.
Facts proved William right.
Not long after, news spread throughout Britain that the Dark Lord had been defeated by an infant in swaddling clothes. The once-arrogant Death Eaters faced a reckoning and were sent to Azkaban one after another. Only a very few escaped judgment through frantic betrayal of their comrades or by securing guarantors.
The Shafiq family, having taken no actual action during the war, remained unscathed and even recovered their vitality quickly after the war.
This was the advantage of William being a transmigrator.
But likewise, there were things that made him feel deeply powerless.
For example, his mother's death.
Diana Shafiq died from a rare familial genetic curse—a Blood Malediction. Before marriage, she came from the Greengrass family, where the women had a probability of manifesting this illness.
Unfortunately, Diana was one of them. Although Richard had cared for his wife with all his heart after their marriage, Diana's body still grew weaker by the day.
Although William knew the plot and knew of the existence of Blood Maledictions in this world, in the face of an absolute magical terminal illness, he was helpless at the time.
He could only watch as his mother withered away, finally passing away on what should have been a sunny summer day.
Walking out of the iron gates of the cemetery, the air outside seemed a bit fresher.
"You go back first, Father." William stopped and adjusted his collar, which had been messed up by the wind. "I need to make a trip to Diagon Alley."
Richard looked at him in confusion. "We have everything at home. Why go to that chaotic place?"
"To buy some teaching supplies. I need to make some preparations for my professorship before school starts."
Although William excelled in Alchemy—having achieved an "O" in this notoriously difficult subject during his N.E.W.T.s and subsequently working for the Committee on Experimental Charms for years—"knowing it yourself" and "teaching students" were two completely different matters.
Considering the comprehension levels of most young wizards and the discouraging difficulty of the subject itself, William needed to prepare in advance.
And, more importantly, it was for the sake of the newly awakened System.
William calculated in his mind.
The core of the System was earning points, and the rewards in the [Student Level] category were the most enticing. However, Alchemy was an advanced elective only offered to sixth years at Hogwarts; the audience was too small.
If he only taught this subject, he'd barely be able to shear any wool from the pitifully few students he'd have in a year.
To improve the grades of the entire school collectively, the title of "Alchemy Professor" alone was far from sufficient.
He needed greater authority and a broader teaching scope.
"It seems I'll have to have a good talk about terms with Dumbledore when the time comes..." William muttered thoughtfully to himself. "I hope the old bee is as fond of sweets as the rumors say."
He already had a rough plan for his upcoming trip to Hogwarts.
"Fine, suit yourself." Richard waved his hand, asking no further questions. "Remember to come back early."
"I know."
Father and son exchanged a glance, then turned around in tacit agreement.
Crack! Crack!
With two crisp cracks, their figures instantly twisted and vanished from the spot, leaving only a few fallen leaves, stirred up by the magic, drifting slowly in the air.