Milosan and Annabelle hadn't seen each other in years, keeping in touch entirely through letters. Now that they were finally face-to-face, it felt like they had an endless amount of catching up to do.
But soon enough, Madam Mantha arrived at the Transfiguration office, politely but firmly reminding them of the visitor time limit.
Beauxbatons didn't have a tradition of letting guests stay overnight. Generally, all visitors were expected to leave the castle grounds before dinner.
Milosan wasn't about to break the rules, so she reluctantly said her goodbyes to Annabelle.
Richie, meanwhile, was handed a visitor access card. With it, he could enter Beauxbatons and access the restricted library. The card granted him a total of thirty days of access—referring strictly to time actually spent on campus—and the clock would start ticking on his next visit.
Beauxbatons Academy of Magic: Visitor Reception Room
"Must be nice having that kind of freedom to travel wherever you want. I can't exactly just leave the school," Milosan said, shoving her hands deep into her trench coat pockets as she watched Annabelle and Richie prepare to leave.
"I get to travel, sure, but it's not 'wherever I want.' Don't forget, for the first few years after graduation, my boss dragged me all over the globe running errands."
"I've finally paid my dues, and all I got was this measly little vacation time," Annabelle replied, shaking her head. "Anyway, we probably won't see each other for another year."
She patted Richie's incredibly bouncy hair and added, "If my little nephew ever comes to Beauxbatons by himself, you'd better look after him for me."
Milosan offered a warm smile. "Of course. He's our little nephew. I'll make sure he's well taken care of."
"He's my nephew, your little brother, my giant niece!" Annabelle quickly corrected her, completely deadpan.
Milosan just shrugged and looked down at Richie. "Little Richie, if you ever run into any problems, just write to me. You can send it directly to the Transfiguration Professor's office here at Beauxbatons."
"Once I get it, I'll do everything in my power to help you out—whether it's with your studies or anything else."
Seeing Milosan act like a genuinely reliable, mature older sister, Richie shot a deeply judgmental side-eye at his own chaotic, sloppy aunt before giving Milosan a firm, serious nod. "I will!"
Annabelle immediately caught his look. Her hand shifted from a gentle pat to a swift knock on his head.
"Getting bold, are we?!"
Thwack!
Richie instantly grabbed his head, groaning.
"Alright, we're heading out!" Annabelle announced.
The two of them stepped into the fireplace one after another, taking the Floo Network out of Beauxbatons and heading straight to the French Ministry of Magic.
Just like their trip there, they transferred through the Ministry and eventually arrived back at Godwin Farm. By the time all the traveling was done, it was already evening.
Richie slammed the two massive textbooks down directly on the dining table. He started flipping through them while eating his dinner.
Honestly? Alchemy was actually pretty fascinating.
It was essentially built on an alchemical language (Ancient Runes) constructed from the Thirty-Two Fundamental Symbols. By arranging these base symbols into specific alchemical formulas, you could manifest corresponding magical effects.
But the most unique aspect was that alchemy didn't require a wizard's internal magic to sustain it. Magic merely acted as the ignition spark—it wasn't the fuel source.
As for what it actually consumed? The book vaguely explained that for beginner-level alchemy, the energy source came from the power of the stars. As an alchemist advanced to higher tiers, the required energy became increasingly pure.
The bulk of Simple Alchemy focused entirely on those Thirty-Two Fundamental Symbols. The pages were constantly interrupted by cited historical documents written in Ancient Runes and highly ambiguous, open-ended theories. It was obvious the book's main goal was to force the reader to think for themselves, rather than spoon-feeding them hard conclusions.
All things considered, after reading for half the day, Richie hadn't even finished the first five pages.
But that steep learning curve only fueled his deep, obsessive drive for academic research. He was completely glued to the book.
Annabelle watched the whole thing play out. She muttered something under her breath, but ultimately decided not to bother him.
After dinner, Richie took a hot shower and headed back to his room.
The room was massive, but it was incredibly bare—there was exactly one bed and literally zero other furniture. Richie had no choice but to throw on his silk pajamas and read while lying in the warm, ridiculously soft bed.
He didn't know how much time had passed before Annabelle knocked and walked in. She set up a calming aromatherapy diffuser for him and gently reminded him to turn off the lights and get some sleep.
Richie obediently complied.
He was still young; he needed a strict routine. Early to bed, early to rise, and absolutely no pulling all-nighters—that was the only way to guarantee he wouldn't go bald later in life.
The Next Morning
Annabelle woke Richie up. After a quick breakfast, he fully intended to dive straight back into his books. Instead, Annabelle dragged him outside into the sprawling farm, forcing him on a mandatory, aimless stroll.
Her stated reason? "For his physical and mental wellbeing."
Richie politely thanked her for caring but firmly stated it was completely unnecessary.
Unfortunately, an eleven-year-old's scrawny arms were no match for a fully grown witch. He had no choice but to let her drag him along.
Since Godwin Farm was owned by wizards, it naturally had some magical quirks.
For example, there were several fenced-in pastures completely locked in a perpetual state of spring—lush, green grass with zero trace of the harsh winter snow outside.
There were also massive greenhouses that had clearly been heavily expanded with the Undetectable Extension Charm. Inside, endless rows of roosts stretched as far as the eye could see, complete with automated egg-collection chutes. The only problem? There wasn't a single bird inside.
According to Annabelle, this place used to be the largest supplier of eggs and milk for several nearby towns, catering to both wizards and Muggles alike.
But ever since Grandpa Dawson bought the farm, he had essentially lived off his savings and put zero effort into actually running the place. Because of that, the farm had slowly fallen into total ruin.
When Annabelle finally came of age, she couldn't stand watching it rot. Hating the waste of perfectly good land, she bought a bunch of low-maintenance potion ingredient plants and a flock of poultry, dumping all the caretaking responsibilities onto Geeth the house-elf.
Unfortunately, Geeth clearly had absolutely no idea how to raise livestock. Every single one of the hundred-plus birds Annabelle bought died off, leaving only the hardy magical plants alive and thriving.
(Of course, there was always the strong possibility that Geeth had committed premeditated poultry murder just to avoid doing the work.)
Annabelle: I am absolutely going to find a way to fire him!
Hearing the tragic history of the farm, Richie could only shake his head with a deep sigh. What an absolute waste of premium real estate. Not using all this land to grow crops was a damn tragedy.
Godwin Farm was massive, but it was also incredibly empty.
After Annabelle dragged Richie around until they had basically seen it all, they collapsed onto the green grass of the enchanted spring pasture, soaking up the magically filtered, warm sunlight.
Annabelle's motive for the day was exactly what she had claimed: Richie's mental and physical health. She absolutely refused to let him turn into a total, shut-in bookworm.
A kid his age wasn't supposed to be this "mature" and composed. He was supposed to be loud, energetic, and sprinting across the grass like a maniac.
Tragically, that just wasn't who Richie was. He didn't run, and he didn't jump. If she hadn't physically dragged him out here, she guaranteed he would have locked himself in his room and drowned in the sea of academia.
Watching him lie there motionless, Annabelle could only shake her head helplessly.
"Just soak up some sun."
Unable to out-stubborn his aunt, Richie just lay flat on the grass, sunbathing beside her.
The day slipped away quickly, and the sun began to set.
And just as dusk fell, Grandpa Dawson—who had been MIA for days—finally returned to Godwin Farm.