Dylan wasn't in a rush to inspect his house right now; it had been a while since he'd been back.
These past few days, he'd either been experimenting on a group of rather unattractive goblins.
Or he'd been *whacking* unforgivable curses at a diary.
Or he'd been literally peeling off Basilisk scales and letting the blood *fizz* out...
The poor bloke was knackered.
Right now, all he wanted was to go home, have a chat with his mum and dad, and eat some of his mum's "Muggle" food.
--And you know what? He really did.
After eating so much diverse cuisine at Hogwarts, Dylan actually missed his mum's pure "Muggle" cooking.
Like potato salad, English muffins, shepherd's pie...
These dishes weren't fancy, but they were always made by Mrs. Meave herself, and Dylan had eaten them for so many years that he was completely used to them.
As soon as he got out of the car, Dylan strode quickly towards his villa.
It was a summer afternoon, and even though it was almost evening, it was still quite warm.
Not too many cicadas were chirping in the branches.
The trees lining the road were lush and leafy, casting patches of deep green shade.
Not-so-scorching sunlight filtered through the gaps in the leaves, scattering onto the ground in patches of orange-gold.
Reaching the front door, Dylan raised his hand and gently knocked.
Almost instantly, the door swung open.
Hubert and Meave's surprised and delighted faces came into view.
Mrs. Meave's eyes were bright as she hurried forward and pulled Dylan into a tight hug.
"Sweetheart, you're finally back! Why didn't you tell us beforehand? Your father could have picked you up from the station."
Dylan smiled and gently hugged his mother back. "No need for you to make a trip in this heat. I just took a car back. Mum, have you forgotten? You and Dad gave me plenty of Galleons, so I just took a taxi."
Hubert grumbled, "Those cars are so uncomfortable, not pleasant at all! Our own car is much better!"
Dylan blinked. "Mum, aren't you going to let me in? All the cool air is escaping!"
Meave finally realized and nodded repeatedly. "Oh dear, look at me, getting all excited! Come in quickly, darling."
She released Dylan from her embrace and stepped aside.
Dylan rubbed his fingers, which still had some splattered egg from cooking.
He walked into the house.
The air conditioning was on full blast.
Dylan said, "Don't turn the air up too high, or you might catch a cold."
Meave nodded repeatedly. "Alright, alright, my little darling has grown up and knows how to care about his parents now!"
Dylan's eyelids twitched. "Didn't I care about you before?"
Meave disappeared into the kitchen, her voice floating out, "Sweetheart, you always remind me so much of my grandfather, not cute at all!"
Dylan took a breath. "Dad said that the English are all very serious, and only those who aren't very bright can be called cute."
Hubert's eyes widened, and feeling the chilly gaze emanating from the kitchen, he immediately raised both hands.
"Wife, I swear I absolutely wasn't talking about you—no, I mean, I never said such a thing! Heavens, what kind of person would utter such terrible words?"
Hubert exclaimed, completely lacking the composure of a middle-aged man, and hurriedly explained himself to his wife.
"Even though our son said those words, I must say, Dylan, how could you say such a thing? So ungentlemanly!"
Hubert glared at Dylan, then looked back at Meave. "Of course, I also have to explain for our son. He probably meant that those who aren't very bright are the ones who don't appreciate you; they are the only ones who can be called cute."
"And someone as clever and charming as my wife is simply my Queen!"
"Furthermore, in my life, my wife, you are the absolute symbol of wisdom! Beauty and charm perfectly combined! Good heavens, you must be a precious gift bestowed upon me by the heavens!"
Hubert looked at Meave in the kitchen with deep affection, his eyes full of tenderness.
"Wife, please forgive our impetuous son. Maybe after becoming a wizard, his blabbermouth just loves to run off."
Dylan: ?
Hello?
Excuse me?
Dylan was truly about to be defeated by his mum and dad.
So...
Can we eat now?
"Mum, I'm starving!"
"Oh dear, come and eat quickly! The food is all ready."
Meave had still been staring wide-eyed at Hubert.
You look at me, I look at you.
No idea what they were looking at, just felt like their gazes were about to spark.
Hearing Dylan's voice, Meave finally snapped out of it and quickly walked out of the kitchen, carrying a pot of Stargazy Pie in her hands.
"Sweetheart, come and see! This is a real feast!"
Dylan froze, staring at the pot in his mum's hands—
Several fish were arranged neatly, but their heads stubbornly poked out of the pie crust, pointing straight up into the air.
The round eyes on those fish heads seemed to be staring directly at him too.
--Under the warm yellow indoor lighting, it had an indescribable air of eeriness.
It was indeed a "grand" dish.
"Why does this feel so much like when I was researching what would happen if I used Defiled Blooming on living goblins, and that goblin stared at me like this?"
Dylan's mouth twitched uncontrollably.
--He clearly wanted to come home for a good rest.
Why did he suddenly feel like he was back in his lab?
"Looks like Dylan loves it! Wife, your pie is perfect!" Hubert took the pot of Stargazy Pie from Meave, stretched out his arm, and placed it directly in front of Dylan. "Here, son, eat more. This is your mummy's special treat for you."
Dylan: "."
Meave smiled slowly, the warm yellow light falling on her face, making her delicate skin appear particularly soft. The few fine lines left by time at the corners of her eyes didn't detract from her beauty at all; instead, they added a touch of the richness of life.
Dylan looked at his mum's expression, paused, but still didn't say anything, just letting the couple show their affection in front of their son.
Unexpectedly, Meave suddenly spoke.
"Don't you dare fight with our darling for food! Dylan has finally come back once. If you want to eat this pie, I'll make one just for you next time."
Hubert immediately shook his head. "No, my dear, how could I bear to see you toil in the fumes? Don't worry, I won't fight Dylan for this pie."
Having said that, he turned his head to look at Dylan and smiled. "Son, quick, eat more."
Dylan: "!!!"
--Am I even your son anymore?
Dylan couldn't help but feel that his two old children of parents had become increasingly clingy since he received his Hogwarts acceptance letter, as their time became more abundant and their wealth increased. Were they experiencing a second spring?
Or were his mum and dad no longer treating him like their son?
Did they perhaps have a second account (like a second child)?
Grinding his teeth, Dylan glanced at his mum's stomach, which was encircled by an arm.
--Don't even say it!
This possibility seemed quite high!
Could it really be true??
Dylan scratched his forehead, forcing a smile onto his lips.
Under Mrs. Meave's expectant gaze and Mr. Hubert's narrowed eyes, he gritted his teeth and picked up a knife, slowly cutting into the large, strangely shaped Stargazy Pie.
After finally finding an angle, he cut off a small piece of the flaky crust, but before he could put it in his mouth,
Mr. Hubert, unusually letting go of his wife's waist, swiftly and decisively cut off a much larger piece and placed it in front of Dylan.
A fish head was still sitting firmly on top, staring directly at Dylan.
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Dylan's hand froze, and he glanced at the enthusiastic man.
"Hahahaha, son, don't look at me! Dad knows you must be very happy, so eat more, or it'll be wasted!" Hubert said with a smile. "Don't you like the food your mum made for you?"
"She got up early this morning to prepare this pie—and I also got up to 'help' properly all day!"
Listening to his dad's tone, Dylan thought, well, well, well!
Case closed!
So, he had written home saying he'd be back today, and his mum had specially gotten up early to prepare food for him.
Dragging his dad out of bed with her.
--Perhaps a certain man, in order to solidify his loving husband persona, insisted on getting up to help prepare ingredients and clean the house, even though his wife told him not to.
Then, this petty man had bottled up his morning grumpiness all day and was now directly venting it all on his own son?
Heh!
Dylan saw through his cheapskate dad's little scheme at a glance!
Silently curling his lip, Dylan, facing his cheap parents' gazes, smiled and used his fork to directly stab the fish head's eyeball, then yanked it off.
Just like pulling out a Mandrake.
"*Eidolon Mentis* (Mind Illusion)."
--A spell Dylan had seen in an ancient book, capable of directly affecting his own mind, obscuring his vision, making him see what was not there.
At the same time.
The hideous fish head in front of Dylan gradually transformed into a string of tempting salt-and-pepper shrimp, their shells glistening with oil.
The dead fish eyes also turned into salt-and-pepper granules sprinkled on top, releasing an alluring aroma in the warmth.
Hmm, that's more like it!
Dylan put the fork in his mouth and began to chew heartily, then spat out the shrimp shells—which were actually some large fish bones.
This spell, after Dylan learned it, could be considered a rather practical one.
Those goblins were really too ugly—N times uglier than house-elves!
Sometimes, when Dylan was letting their blood fizz out, facing their howling, ugly mugs, he really couldn't bear to look, so he would directly use the Mind Illusion to pretend he was looking at a piglet.
--Although still bloody, it was clearly much more bearable.
Watching Dylan bite off the fish head in one go and then start sucking on the meat and seasonings, Hubert's eyes widened slightly.
Dylan smiled at him. "It's really delicious, Dad. You should try some too. After all, it's a dish Mum 'personally' made. If you don't eat any, wouldn't that be implying you dislike Mum's cooking?"
Hubert's expression stiffened. "Hahaha, I..."
Dylan didn't give him a chance to speak, directly cutting off a piece of fish head and pie and placing it on his dad's plate.
"Come and sit down to eat. What are you still standing there for?" Dylan called out.
Hubert swallowed, looking at the dish he disliked the most—he remembered the memory of his mum forcibly feeding him several fish heads when he was a child, resulting in nightmares for several nights in a row.
Forcing a smile, Hubert was just about to find an excuse to refuse.
Only to hear Meave's gentle voice.
"Your son gave it to you, so just use your fork. It's a gesture of the child's heart."
Dylan nodded. "Yes, Dad, this is my heart—felt—intention!"
Hubert looked at the fish head on his plate, his Adam's apple bobbing involuntarily, his expression extremely conflicted.
In the end, he chose to resign himself to fate, slowly reaching out. Under the watchful eyes of his son and wife, he picked up his fork, gently speared the fish head, paused for several seconds, and then brought it to his mouth.
He bit off a piece of the fish head meat, his cheeks chewing mechanically, the smile stretched extremely thinly, the corners of his mouth stiff and wooden.
--Dylan even felt like his dad wasn't eating fish head meat, but rather his pet Blast-Ended Skrewts.
"Oh right, with Voldemort's Horcruxes around, I don't really need those cockroach and spider killing tasks for spell practice anymore. I'll just... finish them all off in one go, or maybe release some into the Forbidden Forest."
Dylan watched his dad's difficult swallowing motion.
--His throat seemed to be choked by something, the veins on his neck bulging slightly. It took a lot of effort to swallow the minced meat.
"Ah! So delicious!"
Hubert forced a casual smile, picked up the drink beside him, and took a large gulp, trying to wash away the indescribable taste in his mouth.
Dylan chuckled. "Then... Dad, would you like some more?"
"Oh no, no, that won't do! This is your mum's special treat for you, good boy, eat up quickly. I'll just have these."
Hubert placed the half-eaten fish head on the edge of his plate and also picked up some other dishes, trying to cover the dead fish eye staring at him.
"Speaking of which, did anything interesting happen at school this semester? Tell your mum, let us broaden our horizons."
Hubert directly started to change the subject.
Meave also became interested, looking at Dylan with gentle eyes. "Yes, darling, how is second year different from first year? Is the workload too heavy?"
She piled food onto Dylan's plate.
"Your classmates and teachers even wrote us letters."
Dylan paused his eating, looked up, and said, "My classmates? Wrote you letters? Who? Why haven't I heard you mention this?"
Meave blinked. "Oh? Didn't you know?"
Hubert interjected from the side, "It was your Charms professor, Professor Flitwick, who sent us a letter together with a student named Vera."
Dylan narrowed his eyes imperceptibly. "And then? What did they talk about?"
Meave smiled bashfully. "Your classmates and teachers are so enthusiastic! They immediately praised us for raising you so well, that we've brought up such an excellent child."
"That's it?"
"Of course not! They asked about your progress—the teachers at this school are really responsible."
"My progress?"
(End of this chapter)