Chapter 104: Chain Reaction

The Clive family huddled tightly together, their neat, tidy clothes smeared with dust on the ground, but they paid no attention to it, frantically searching their bags for the medicine.

Finally, Mrs. Clive found the medicine; she trembled as she opened the vial, poured out two pills, and shoved them into Mr. Clive’s mouth—but he made no swallowing motion, and Mrs. Clive panicked, scanning the room...

“Are you looking for water?” came the same boy’s voice, and then a cup of water floated to her Mianqian ...

Mrs. Clive shot Allen a quick glance, snatched the cup, and poured the water into Mr. Clive’s mouth.

Immediately after swallowing the pills, Mr. Clive’s breathing steadied, and soon he slowly opened his eyes.

He was about to scream again at Allen, but Allen spoke first.

“Sir, I mean no harm, and I won’t hurt you—I’m just... unusually shaped,” Allen said earnestly.

Mr. Clive pulled his wife and Colin behind him, watching Allen warily: “Then why won’t you let us leave?”

“Maybe the lock just broke itself. If I meant you harm, would you still be unharmed?” Allen replied helplessly.

Colin peeked out from behind his father, quietly observing Allen.

“Dad, look at that man’s chest—it’s the Hogwarts emblem!” Colin suddenly pointed at Allen’s chest.

Allen finally remembered the Hogwarts badge hanging on his chest; it also reminded him.

“You’re a first-year at Hogwarts, aren’t you?” Allen tried to ease the tension. “I’m your senior—I’ll be in second year this year at Hogwarts.”

This only made the Clives more terrified; they exchanged a glance and asked cautiously: “Are all Hogwarts students like you?”

Allen thought for a moment and said: “Not all of them.”

The Clives gasped in unison; Colin’s expression, however, turned excited...

Allen realized he’d messed up and quickly added: “The other Hogwarts students are quite normal!”

But the Clives no longer trusted Allen’s definition of “normal.”

To such a strange monster, “normal” must mean exactly how he looks! The Clives thought rapidly in their minds.

They had already imagined Hogwarts as a school filled with all kinds of bizarre monsters.

Still, this monster didn’t seem particularly dangerous—just oddly shaped. Looking closer, his face was clearly that of a boy. Mr. Clive silently reasoned, and these observations calmed him.

“If there’s nothing else, can we leave now?” Mr. Clive straightened his back, trying to appear more imposing.

“Aren’t you here to buy a wand?” Allen asked, puzzled.

This monster was trying to force a sale! It’s a shady shop! Mr. Clive thought bitterly, glancing fearfully at the wand in Allen’s hand.

But circumstances forced his hand—he’d just have to grit his teeth and accept it. Mr. Clive made his decision.

“That one just now was perfect—how much? We’ll buy it outright!” Mr. Clive pointed to the wand in Colin’s hand.

“That one isn’t suitable—we must keep trying. The right wand is especially important for a wizard,” Allen patiently explained to his customer.

Mr. Clive could only reluctantly agree.

Then, amid the stifling silence, Colin tested wand after wand until he finally found one that suited him.

“That’ll be seven Galleons...” Allen said politely at last.

The price surprised Mr. Clive—he’d expected to be robbed blind.

So he paid without hesitation.

Allen used the Unlocking Charm to open the locked shop door.

The Clives, trembling, led Colin toward the exit—but Allen called out to them.

The Clives turned back in terror, fearing the monster had changed his mind.

But they saw Allen bow deeply—ninety degrees—to the three of them. “I’m sorry I frightened you,” Allen said sincerely.

He had no idea how visually shocking his long neck would look bowing like that.

The Clives stumbled back two steps, then turned and fled out the door with Colin, running away in disarray.

Allen had risen to see them off, but as soon as he stuck his head out of the shop, passersby spotted him—and another chaos erupted...

He quickly pulled his head back in, thought carefully, and decided to close early today—to avoid scaring more people.

Actually, randomly gaining a giraffe’s neck was an extraordinary experience. Giraffes, due to their long necks, have blood pressure 2.5 times higher than humans to supply their brains—but Allen felt neither brain oxygen deprivation nor elevated body pressure, and could only attribute it to magic’s wonder.

The greatest advantage of the giraffe’s neck was being able to raise his head higher and see farther.

But a longer neck also meant he could lower it further—just as humans can tuck their heads between their legs, Allen now found he could easily bring his head all the way behind his buttocks.

Beyond these amusing quirks, the long neck brought him many inconveniences.

Most obviously, the chance of bumping into things increased, and walking became harder to balance, since his center of gravity had risen.

Eating and drinking also became difficult, since his arms were much shorter than his neck; to get food and water to his mouth, he had to bend his head extremely low, then immediately lift it up after each bite, or swallowing became impossible—so he had to constantly lower and raise his head, and with such a long neck, the range of motion was enormous.

Later, Allen discovered a better way to eat: use the Levitation Charm to float the plate to the top of the cabinet, then lower his head and devour and lick it rapidly—this was the most efficient method, though wasn’t this exactly how giraffes ate?

Finally, sleeping became a problem: with a 1.5-meter neck, Allen’s height now exceeded three meters. His bed was too short, and bending his neck to sleep was unbearable—so he skipped his afternoon nap entirely.

Also, Allen decided not to perform wand-talent transformation tonight—he’d already wasted too much time today.

Just as Allen was troubled by this, the Clive family fled in disarray from Diagon Alley, returning to their familiar world. They found their car and sped away from the neighborhood; during the drive, Mr. Clive remained on high alert, constantly checking the rearview mirror, terrified the monster would chase them.

Only when they reached home did Mr. Clive relax slightly. He poured himself a glass of brandy, downed it in one gulp, and finally felt better.

“Colin absolutely cannot go to Hogwarts to learn magic! It’s full of monsters! If he goes, he’s finished!” Mr. Clive’s face flushed from the alcohol.

“Yes! Too terrifying! Colin must not go!” Mrs. Clive agreed.

Colin felt today’s events had opened a door to a new world, and he objected to his parents’ decision.

But the Clives ignored Colin entirely, locked all the strange items they’d bought into the basement, and sent a letter via their new owl to Professor McGonagall, explicitly stating they would not send Colin to Hogwarts.

Mr. Ollivander returned to the shop the next morning; today, Allen had randomly gained owl’s eyes—motionless, so he could only adjust his view by turning his head...

Ollivander was slightly surprised they’d sold only three wands yesterday, but didn’t press further; Allen, naturally, stayed silent and avoided elaboration.

Over the next few days, Allen helped Ollivander sell many wands, and the peak sales season passed.

Allen began considering visiting Ron’s home. He sat at his desk, preparing to write Ron a letter.

He randomly pulled one of the old notebooks he’d bought days ago, flipped to a page, and began writing—expressing his desire to visit.

But when he finished and tried to tear out the page, he couldn’t budge it.

Just as he tried again, Ollivander called for help moving in new stock.

By the time he returned, Allen had forgotten about the notebook entirely—he’d rewritten the letter on parchment from the counter and sent it off using Ollivander’s owl.

The next day, Allen received Ron’s reply: Ron warmly welcomed him to visit, and explained how to use Floo Powder to travel through the fireplace to his home.

Fortunately, Ollivander’s shop had everything; under Ollivander’s patient guidance, Allen successfully used Floo Powder to reach Ron’s house.

Allen’s arrival was warmly welcomed by all members of the Weasley household.

At lunch, Mrs. Weasley prepared a lavish feast and filled Allen’s plate to the brim...

As the group eagerly ate, an unfamiliar owl flew in, dropped a red envelope before Allen, and flew away.

The entire table fell silent; everyone stared at the red envelope...

Allen picked up the red envelope, muttering: “Who would write me a letter? Red envelopes are festive! Could someone be inviting me to a wedding?”

“That’s a Howler,” Ron whispered, leaning in.

“What’s a Howler?” Allen asked, puzzled. He noticed everyone at the table looked terrified, and stared at the envelope—he sensed something was wrong.

“Did you upset someone recently?” George grinned mischievously.

“No,” Allen thought carefully. “Could it be Malfoy? But how does he know I’m here?”

“Just open it,” Fred chimed in. “Otherwise, the consequences will be severe.”

“You still haven’t told me what a Howler is!” Allen hesitated, staring at the envelope—the red now filled him with dread.

“Just open it! You’ll see! It’ll only last a few minutes!” Ron urged. The corners of the envelope were already smoking...

Allen carefully picked up the letter; everyone at the table covered their ears...

The envelope opened, and a massive voice filled the room—Allen immediately recognized it as Professor McGonagall’s...

“ALLEN—FINIS—LOOK WHAT YOU’VE DONE—WHY DID YOU SCARE FIRST-YEARS AND THEIR PARENTS? NOW SIX MUGGLE FAMILIES HAVE REFUSED HOGWARTS’ INVITATIONS—THIS IS A MASSIVE ADMISSIONS DISASTER! IT’S NEVER HAPPENED IN HOGWARTS’ THOUSAND-YEAR HISTORY—I HAD TO VISIT ALL SIX FAMILIES MYSELF—MY AFRICA VACATION WAS CANCELLED BECAUSE OF YOU—YOU PROBABLY DIDN’T REALIZE—HOW I’M FEELING RIGHT NOW—”

Everyone sat stunned, listening to McGonagall’s Howler. Her voice was a hundred times louder than usual; they’d never heard her so out of control—every person felt her fury.

“When term starts—you—COME—IMMEDIATELY—to my office—”

The shouting stopped, but Allen’s head still rang. The red envelope fell to the floor, ignited, curled, and turned to ash.

Allen sat motionless, speechless—he never imagined his careless act would cause such a serious consequence...

Everyone at the table understood the Howler’s contents; none could speak for a long time.

“That was Professor McGonagall?” Mrs. Weasley finally spoke. “I’ve never seen her so furious—she’s usually so elegant...”

Everyone nodded silently in agreement, their gazes toward Allen now changed.

Fred and George shoved Ron aside, flanking Allen, excitedly asking: “How did you scare the first-years? Tell us!”

Allen felt something stuck in his throat—he instantly lost all appetite.

He pushed his plate forward and politely said: “I’m full. I’d like to be alone now...”

Then he ran upstairs to Ron’s room...

Leaving everyone staring at each other...

Soon after, Harry and Ron followed him up; with their comforting, Allen’s mood improved slightly, and he decided to write Hermione a letter, explaining the situation and asking for her advice on how to handle it.

He spread a clean parchment on Ron’s desk and began writing—but he kept feeling the desk shaking.

“Why is your desk always shaking?” Allen asked Ron.

Ron seemed used to it. “Check if the book under the leg is still there—if it’s been kicked away, put it back.”

Allen looked down and saw a black-covered book beneath the table. As he prepared to use it again as a leg prop, his gaze froze...

Because the cover bore Ancient Runes.