At this moment, Elena, who was far away by Loch Lomond, was unaware of the consequences caused by her impulsive remark.
In her mind, Dumbledore should have been busy with the "Harry Potter Hero Development Game," hardly concerned with a willful young girl refusing admission. It seemed such a trivial matter.
Of course, it wasn't entirely her fault. Before her time-traveling escapade, the movie "Fantastic Beasts: The Crimes of Grindelwald" hadn't premiered yet. She couldn't have known about the long-standing rivalry between Dumbledore and Grindelwald, let alone the strikingly similar words Grindelwald uttered back then.
Elena's most pressing concern at the moment was how to break the nearly half-hour silence hanging in the cabin.
Yes, ever since Professor McGonagall stormed out, she hadn't exchanged a word with Benedictus.
Elena sat quietly at the foot of the bed, playing with her fingers while the priest diligently consumed his breakfast, meticulously licking every bit of marrow from the delicate bones.
"Sigh. Do you plan to remain silent forever?" Finally, Benedictus sighed in resignation, placing his soup bowl, long emptied, down and breaking the silence.
"Sorry..." The silver-haired girl lifted her head, lips trembling slightly as she spoke softly.
For Elena, this man who rescued her from the streets of London, patiently taught her English like a mute, and raised her despite her stubbornness, was someone she regarded as a father figure, even if she teased him relentlessly.
However, be it in the magical world or the complexities of time travel, she couldn't bring herself to confide in him as openly as Benedictus did with her.
In a sense, perhaps this was the greatest curse borne by time-travelers—an eternal burden of an unspeakable secret.
"Well, it seems this is a far more complex trouble than detonating fish in the lake with stolen explosives." Benedictus wiggled his eyebrows comically, attempting to lighten the heavy atmosphere.
"Far more complex by at least a hundredfold. And I didn't steal, I borrowed! I left a note with the orphanage's contact details and purpose. Besides, we shared half of the fish we caught with them." Elena puffed her cheeks, still bothered by the incident. To her, it was just fishing; humans using their wits for basic sustenance. She couldn't believe the Conservation Association overreacted, even involving the authorities and security departments.
That was the first and only time Benedictus had been angry with her. She even considered running away that time if things got worse.
Benedictus sat up, rubbing Elena's head firmly. He chose not to argue further, knowing he couldn't match wits with this clever debater.
"Don't want to see what's inside? This letter is from the magic school," Benedictus picked up the thick parchment left in the room by Professor McGonagall, offering it to the girl gently.
There were no postal stamps on the envelope, the address and recipient's name clearly written in emerald green ink.
[Miss Elena Kaslana
Next to the kitchen of Benedictus Orphanage, Hardstone Street, Las Town, Scottish Highlands]
"No need. If you want to see, open it yourself. It's probably just details about the start of term and the required school supplies. Besides, I'm not going to that school anyway." Elena took the hefty envelope from Benedictus, idly rubbing the Hogwarts emblem with her fingertip before tossing the letter back to him, shaking her head, silently commenting,
"So many unscrupulous authors in my previous life writing Harry Potter fanfiction, almost every one of them used the contents of a letter to inflate word counts. I can tell what's written inside without even opening it."
"But, I suggest you don't open it." As Elena spoke, she glanced at the empty bowl placed by Benedictus's bedside, raised her eyebrows, and added, "Forget it, it doesn't matter now. They probably won't send another letter."
"Why?" Benedictus furrowed his brow, puzzled.
"Because in the magical world, they use owls to deliver mail. Otherwise, where do you think I got those plump Scottish round-faced chickens we ate so much of earlier?" The silver-haired girl shrugged, answering matter-of-factly.
"Oh, goodness." Hearing Elena's response, Benedictus rubbed his temple, feeling a headache coming on.
He instantly understood the reason behind Professor McGonagall's sudden rage and departure upon receiving the dinner invitation.
Regardless of who experienced it, such a situation would infuriate anyone. This child was becoming increasingly uncontrollable.
His expression darkened. "Elena, come here! We need to have a serious talk."
He felt it necessary to discuss basic social etiquette with this problematic child. After the fish incident, he thought Elena would have become more mature, but there had been no change whatsoever.
"I won't! I'm not dumb~" Glancing at Benedictus's darkening face, Elena cutely stuck out her tongue, making a face.
"Oh, I just remembered. There are no more vegetables in the kitchen. I need to go to the market." Without waiting for Benedictus to react, the girl jumped off the bed, swiftly darting out, not wanting a repeat of the morning being lectured by him.
"She's..." Benedictus watched the silver-haired girl run off like a startled rabbit, shaking his head helplessly.
Perhaps, just as Professor McGonagall mentioned, there was some sort of magical charm about this child.
Every time he wanted to reprimand Elena, she'd act a bit coquettish, and he'd inexplicably soften, chiding her lightly before letting things go.
It wasn't just him. Every time Elena caused trouble, it seemed she received exceptionally lenient treatment—as if, regardless of her actions, forgiveness was inevitable.
Though, perhaps, as the nuns in London suggested, he truly wasn't suited to guide children.
"A magical... school?" Benedictus looked at the discarded envelope in his hand, his finger hesitating over the seal, as if it held not a letter but a terrifying Pandora's box.
While others might not know, Benedictus, who had watched Elena grow up, understood perfectly well. Anything she didn't find interesting, Elena wouldn't invest even the slightest bit of energy or time into it.
After struggling for about fifteen minutes, Benedictus glanced at the empty bowl on the bedside table. Suddenly, a thought struck him. If he didn't have a headache due to the chilly wind, would Elena have chosen a different way to refuse the invitation from that world?
After careful consideration, Benedictus remembered Elena's sparkling eyes when they talked about stewing owl soup—a weary expression crossed his face. With that uncontrollable little glutton, it was truly impossible to determine the real reasons behind her actions.
Benedictus picked up the thick parchment envelope once again, gazing earnestly at the peculiar emblem on the envelope. He considered that perhaps he should have a more detailed conversation with Professor McGonagall.
At least he could sense a hidden fear behind Elena's stubbornness when she saw Professor McGonagall rise with the little wooden stick—similar to the trembling fear she displayed after the fish incident, only this time it involved pilfering someone's owl.
Just the thought made Benedictus feel a thro
bbing headache.
Roughly estimating, in the past week, the orphanage had probably consumed at least ten "Scottish round-faced chickens." Knowing this, if Benedictus ever encountered Professor McGonagall again, he'd definitely offer to compensate.
"I wonder if pounds can be exchanged for wizarding currency. Hopefully, as Elena said, the prices in the wizarding world are slightly more affordable." Benedictus sighed again at the thought. Although Elena had earned the orphanage a considerable sum over the years, they'd also paid fines or compensations for her mishaps.
At that moment, there was a sudden cracking sound outside the door, followed by rhythmic knocking. A familiar female voice echoed from outside.
"Mr. Benedictus, I'm Minerva McGonagall. I'm sorry to disturb you again, but if possible, I'd like to learn more about Miss Elena."
The Deputy Headmistress from Hogwarts?
Benedictus's lips curled up slightly, glancing at the letter in his hand. He got off the bed, cleared the table of dishes, grabbed a jacket, and without hesitation, replied, "Welcome, Ms. McGonagall. Actually, I have some questions for you too, about Elena and your wizarding world."
Meanwhile, at the lakeside, Elena, deeply focused on fishing, suddenly felt a sense of unease. It was almost like... the dreadful feeling she got every time there was a school notice for a parent-teacher meeting in her previous life?