Chapter 114: Studying the Book of Abraham the Jew at the Weasleys’ House

Fred and George exchanged a glance, both breaking into wide grins before bursting out laughing.

"Just kidding! Even if it explodes, the worst it'll do is give your hair a new style!"

"Besides, we're studying this to make some little gadgets. The safety level is pretty high, so don't worry!"

"The unsafe stuff we'll take to Hogwarts to mess with."

"Otherwise, Mrs. Molly will tan our hides!"

Dylan pursed his lips and turned to Harry. "Want to head upstairs and rest?"

He didn't actually want to rest—he was planning to read for a bit.

Ever since he got the pet space suitcase, he hadn't even bothered storing his various books in the system's inventory panel anymore.

Instead, he'd bought a few bookshelves and wedged them into the suitcase's space.

This way, whenever he wanted a book, he could grab it quickly based on its spot on the shelf.

No more opening the inventory panel every

time and digging through it for ages just to find the book he wanted.

After hearing Dylan's exchange with the twins, Harry blinked, then took a step back to stand next to Ron, giving a sheepish grin.

"Uh, I'm not that tired. I think I'll go hang out with Ron and the others for a bit. You go ahead and rest, Dylan."

Dylan shrugged. "Alright."

He picked up his suitcase.

The twins, who had been holding their Nimbus 2000 broomsticks, suddenly let go and cast curious glances his way.

"Dylan, what's that?"

"A space suitcase?"

Dylan nodded lightly. "Yup, just got it—along with this broom."

The twins' eyes lit up with excitement.

"Good heavens!"

"Merlin's beard!"

"That must've cost a fortune! How big is the space inside?"

"To cast an Undetectable Extension Charm on a suitcase, it's gotta have a decent amount of room, right?"

Dylan shook his head slightly. "It's not that big. Just enough for a few bookshelves—you know, reading's pretty much my only hobby."

George and Fred, who had been buzzing with enthusiasm, visibly deflated at Dylan's words.

"Oh! For crying out loud."

"Here I was thinking we could ride broomsticks inside it!"

Dylan waved them off like he was shooing puppies. "Alright, go have fun. Once everyone's up, Mrs. Molly might not be so keen on letting you mess around anymore."

The twins froze for a second, then grabbed their Nimbus 2000s and bolted out the door.

"He's right!"

"Let's get going!"

Harry and Ron dashed off after the twins.

Dylan, carrying his suitcase, made his way to the twins' room.

Looking at the closed door, the corner of his mouth twitched.

After a moment's thought, he flipped his hand, and a crystal-clear orb appeared in his palm.

Dylan softly chanted a spell, and the orb's clear glow began to shift, turning into a swirling cloud of mist.

He opened his eyes and focused on the mist. Gradually, an image formed within it.

When he opened the door, only a few colorful sparks would zip through the air.

The explosion he'd half-expected didn't happen.

Dylan let out a small sigh of relief, finally relaxing a bit.

"Divination can be pretty useful sometimes."

He tucked the crystal ball away and pushed the door open.

The moment he stepped inside, it was like he'd triggered something—colorful fireworks shot out from both sides. They were harmless and powerless, but actually kind of pretty.

"A little firework show right at the door?"

With Fred and George's prankster spirits, Dylan figured they'd definitely earn some money someday.

He enjoyed the mini firework display for a moment.

Stepping into the room, he glanced around, expecting a chaotic mess.

To his surprise, though, the room was fairly neat and tidy.

Two beds were neatly arranged, sheets smoothed out, though the blankets were spread open and a bit sloppy.

—Probably because the twins had lounged on them in the middle of the night before sneaking off with Ron to pick up Harry in the car.

When Mrs. Molly found them missing, she obviously wouldn't have been in the mood to tidy up their room or fix their blankets.

Other than that, Dylan noticed the spotless floor—no clutter anywhere.

The magical map on the wall had clear, sharp lines, and a few Weasley family photos hung nearby, their frames polished to a shine.

Dylan didn't just plop down on a random bed. Following what he'd seen in the crystal ball, he headed straight for the bed on the right.

Setting his suitcase by the bedside, he cast a quick Scouring Charm—cleaning both the bed and himself.

Then he kicked off his shoes and leaned back gently.

The soft mattress hugged his body, making Dylan feel completely at ease.

—The Weasleys might not be well-off, but Mrs. Molly clearly didn't skimp on care for any of her kids.

Lying on the bed, Dylan couldn't hear a single noise from outside.

"Could this room have a silencing charm on it?"

The soundproofing was honestly impressive.

—Maybe the whole Weasley family had gotten fed up with the twins' pranks and tinkering noises.

With no sound from the outside, the peaceful quiet let Dylan unwind even more.

He leaned against the headboard and reached into the air in front of him.

A tattered copy of The Book of Abraham the Jew appeared in his hand.

—Ordinary books could go straight onto the suitcase's shelves, but for something special like this, Dylan preferred keeping it in the system panel.

For the past couple of weeks, he'd been studying this book. Though its contents were incomplete, it had still given him some pretty big insights.

He opened the worn pages.

—The edges were starting to fray from how much he'd handled them.

"There are a lot of symbols in this book with no clear meanings or explanations. Combine that with the obscure text, and even I find it tough to read."

Dylan's gaze wandered over the crooked lines.

Fortunately, after days of repeated study, he had gradually begun to grasp some of the deeper meanings hidden within the text.

The alchemy revealed in this book wasn't just about turning lead into gold—that was merely the surface.

At its core, it involved specific rituals and energy transformations to achieve a metamorphosis of both matter and spirit.

—Clearly, this touched on the secret of immortality.

Though the surviving pages were few, the deeper Dylan delved, the more he could sense that the wizarding world's depth went far beyond what met the eye.

Over the next few days, Dylan and Harry stayed at the Weasleys' home.

—This also meant Dylan hadn't recently gone out to rob other wizards or spread the name of Karthas.

But switching to a new environment brought Dylan a fresh kind of enjoyment.

It's worth noting that the Weasley family was incredibly warm and welcoming.

Mrs. Molly didn't show the slightest irritation at having two extra mouths to feed.

On the contrary, her care for Dylan and Harry even surpassed what she gave Ron.

Ron would occasionally come to hang out with Harry and Dylan at night, grumbling to them—

"How come the moment you two show up, it's like I've lost all the love in this house? I feel like Mum's getting more and more fed up with me!"

Dylan and Harry could only exchange a smile at that.

The Weasleys' home wasn't like the Malfoys', with fancy living quarters, gourmet food, and fine clothes.

Yet this ramshackle Burrow somehow felt just right to Dylan as a wizard's dwelling.

At the very least, the fact that the Burrow still stood upright was a miracle—by normal architectural standards, it should've collapsed long ago.

—This clearly indicated the entire structure was enveloped in magic.

Inside, traces of magic were everywhere.

The Weasleys were genuinely hospitable to both Dylan and Harry.

Mrs. Molly constantly checked if they'd eaten enough, slept well, or been bothered by the twins.

Harry, having just escaped his aunt and uncle's house, was especially affected.

Being met with Mrs. Molly's heartfelt concern lifted his spirits noticeably.

—He was growing more cheerful by the day.

Except for certain moments.

Like when he ran out of his few pairs of socks and had to wear ones with a gaping hole at the big toe.

Seeing this, Dylan handed Harry a bunch of new socks he hadn't worn yet.

The poor guy had all that money left by his parents, yet his socks were in tatters.

It was clear how awful his aunt and uncle must've been to him.

Mr. Arthur, on the other hand, seemed utterly clueless about the Muggle world.

With two extra people in the house, he didn't get annoyed. Though he didn't show the same overt enthusiasm as Mrs. Molly, he'd often pull Dylan and Harry aside to ask questions.

And those questions were almost always about the Muggle world.

For instance, Mr. Arthur would ask how Muggles could fly too, albeit with tools.

He was fascinated—how could such tools be made?

How could they lift people into the air without any magic?

Dylan didn't have much of an answer for that.

—Sure, he'd recently started studying alchemy, but that didn't mean he understood Muggle engineering!

Beyond that, Mr. Arthur would also ask about other Muggle items—were they convenient? How much did they cost?

But before they could chat for long, Mrs. Molly would shoot a sharp glare their way, and Mr. Arthur would promptly shut up, hiding his face behind a newspaper.

Dylan totally got it.

Mr. Arthur, a member of the Order of the Phoenix and an employee at the Ministry of Magic, had helped draft the Muggle Protection Act.

—Yet he frequently broke it himself.

Take that flying car he'd rigged up, for example.

—Wizards were forbidden from illegally tampering with Muggle objects.

Ironically, Mr. Arthur's department at the Ministry was the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office.

Its main job? Overseeing and dealing with wizards improperly using Muggle items.

Case in point: the day Dylan arrived at the Weasleys' and settled in to study The Book of Abraham the Jew while Harry and the twins played with the Nimbus 2000.

That morning, after the family woke up, Mrs. Molly and Mr. Arthur got into an argument.

Mr. Arthur's knack for skirting the Muggle Protection Act—which he'd helped write—came from a loophole he'd intentionally left in the law.

This loophole allowed wizards to legally own enchanted Muggle objects—as long as they didn't intend to use them.

In a way, it gave Mr. Arthur a legal workaround to keep enchanting Muggle stuff in his spare time.

Like the car Ron and the others used to pick up Harry.

It was just an ordinary Ford Anglia at first, confiscated from a Muggle by Mr. Arthur.

After he worked his magic on it—literally—it became a magical car.

The law might forbid Mr. Arthur from driving it himself.

But it didn't stop his family from taking it for a spin.

Over these past few days at the Weasleys', Dylan hadn't figured out much else, but Mrs. Molly had practically spilled all of Mr. Arthur's secrets.

"Didn't expect that living here for a few days would feel more entertaining than being at home."

Another night came, and Dylan prepared to sleep.

Reflecting on the past few days, he closed his eyes.

Recently, every morning brought the scent of toasted bread and Ginny's laughter, lingering in his memory.

The dining table was always laden with hearty food, everyone gathered around, sharing odd yet entertaining.

During the day, George and Fred often dragged him into testing their bizarre prank gadgets.

But those gnomes—Dylan hadn't seen them in days.

"I was originally planning to sneakily catch a few and stuff them into my suitcase," he mused, eyes shut.

Though gnomes were ugly little things, their blood had its uses.

Certain dark magic could make good use of it.

"Before I leave, I'll grab a few from around here," he decided.

With that thought, Dylan drifted off to sleep.

The night deepened.

Stars twinkled in the sky.

Everything was silent.

Until—

"BOOM—!!!"

A deafening explosion jolted Dylan awake.

He slowly opened his eyes.

Turning his head, he saw Harry, also startled awake, sitting beside him, wide-eyed and staring at the twins in a daze.

Dylan glanced outside.

Still the middle of the night.

Great.

Shifting his gaze back, he looked at the twins calmly, though a wand had somehow appeared in his hand.

"If I don't get a satisfactory explanation, you know what happens next."

The twins hadn't mes

sed with anything disruptive in the dead of night for days.

That's why Dylan had moved from Ron's room to here.

Harry had been staying with the twins all along, and after Dylan joined them for a chat, they'd planned to switch rooms tomorrow.

So Harry hadn't left.

—Ron had grumbled about it for ages before going to bed.

And yet, on Dylan's very first night here, thes

e two had whipped up a little surprise?

Woken by the blast, Dylan couldn't deny he'd been startled.

He'd nearly flung out a Killing Curse on instinct, almost activating the Avada Kedavra trait—Domain of Slaughter and Flames.

Seeing Dylan's stern expression and the wand in his hand, the twins—faces smudged with soot—wiped their arms across their cheeks, scrambled over, and slid to a stop by his bedside in a frantic heap.

Harry, still dazed and slow to react, listened as the twins hurriedly explained, tripping over each other's words:

"Dylan, we swear—"

"We didn't mean to!"

"We were just sleeping when—"

"You know that eureka moment, right?"

"The inspiration hit us like a tidal wave! We couldn't stop it!"

"If we didn't grab it right then and there—"

"It'd slip right through our fingers!"

"A brilliant idea like that, if you miss it—"

"You'll never think of it again!"

"Forgive us, Dylan!"

"We messed up!"

The twins insisted they weren't scared of Dylan.

They were just seeking a friend's forgiveness.

As friends, why would they fear him?

—It definitely had nothing to do with how, a few nights ago, the ghoul in the attic had caused a ruckus, waking Dylan, who then stormed up there alone and left the ghoul so subdued it was now quiet as a lamb!

Surely, as their friend, Dylan would forgive them!

(End of Chapter)