Great-great-grandfather Dumbledore

"You, uh, um, you,"

Having witnessed the farewell scene, even though she couldn't understand English, Mrs. Soman sensed something was wrong. She approached with a startled expression and mumbled a question to her son:

"You like...you like this type of girl?"

What type is this? This is something that doesn't require much thought.

Whether Edmund preferred Muggle-born witches or, like old Soman, favored red-haired girls, both would be enough to drive Mrs. Soman to despair. It would mean simultaneously violating two of her taboos, leaving her with a bitter pill to swallow.

Upon hearing this, Edmund's expression immediately darkened.

"Good heavens, your expression is like you've seen your dog, whom you've raised since it was a puppy, suddenly go into heat—have mercy on me, Mother, that girl is only 11 years old."

After saying this, Edmund clicked his tongue, lost interest in acting as a fitting doll to appease his mother, and stomped down on the low stool.

"Actually, I think I said something wrong... well, maybe two things. Whatever? It doesn't matter. What matters is that I'm a little tired. We need to figure out a way to use up the rest of the Galleons quickly."

Mrs. Soman breathed a sigh of relief, realizing she had offended her son. She could only silently nod and pay for the clothes that had been ordered.

In most cases, Edmund was happy to be a considerate and lovable son. He knew how to be affectionate and how to joke with his mother.

In the somber atmosphere of Soman Manor, Edmund was always the most vibrant, the most fearless, and the most protective of his mother.

Just like he was before he died.

But at certain moments, Edmund would suddenly darken his face, revealing a suffocating air of authority. That aura would instantly shatter Mrs. Soman's beautiful dream, reminding her of the person before her... yes, but not entirely her beloved little Edmund.

……

But what can be done? For a mother, there is really no other way but to pretend she doesn't know what to do.

Fortunately, Edmund's temper always flared up and subsided quickly. One second he was acting as if someone had said, "Are you a little weird?" and he was furious; the next second he was tugging at his mother's sleeve, begging to go shopping, just like any other ordinary child.

Soon after, the mother and son got into another argument over a magic broom while passing by a Quidditch shop.

"Mother, Mother—if you're buying yourself a cleaning tool worth 600 Galleons, I have no problem with that. But if you're saying this is for my transportation…" Edmund made a disgusted face. "I can fly myself, I don't need it!"

Mrs. Soman was startled. She covered Edmund's mouth and walked aside, quickly arriving at the door of Slug & Giggs' Pharmacy. Then, under the shopkeeper's puzzled gaze, the mother and son bought enough potion ingredients to last at least three students until graduation.

Even with such extravagance, there were still over 400 Galleons left in his purse.

As the evening sun painted the sky a greyish-red, Edmund had another mischievous idea. He called out to his mother in a sweet voice, hoping to sneak into Knockturn Alley, which was next to Diagon Alley, to see "if there were any interesting little gadgets."

Mrs. Soman was very unhappy.

"Your father warned you, Ed." A barely perceptible fear flickered across her face. "You're just an 11-year-old wizard, you can't..."

"I can't? Can't what?"

Edmund grinned, cutting off his mother's words.

"I'm at the naughtiest age, the age where I can mispronounce place names when using Floo Powder without anyone suspecting anything... If you're scared, Mother, I can go by myself."

Mrs. Soman immediately covered her son's mouth. Her face was terribly pale, clearly recalling the tragedy that had occurred at her son's 8th birthday party.

In short, Edmund pointed to a guest who had come to the banquet, and the man immediately fell backward and died silently.

Although Old Soman eventually packaged it as an "unfortunate accident caused by a protective alchemical artifact," he successfully appeased the various factions that came to celebrate.

But after closing the door, old Soman still flew into a rage, smashing many antiques and establishing the rule: "Unless absolutely necessary, Edmund must not speak to anyone; and unless absolutely necessary, Edmund must not leave the house."

Going out to receive wizarding education is certainly necessary, but going to Knockturn Alley, where dark wizards congregate, is a different story altogether. It has nothing to do with the word "necessary"!

"Why are you so afraid? Mother, I've explained to you before, I've never intentionally hurt anyone."

Edmund stared intently at Mrs. Soman with his bright blue eyes. He knew very well that his mother was helpless against him. His mother would always try her best to fulfill his little requests, not only out of guilt, but also because Mrs. Soman knew very well that the only real family she had in the world was little Edmund.

Moreover, although this thing that "returned" in Edmund's guise was quite...frightening, it genuinely loved Mrs. Soman. This mother-son affection was entirely genuine.

"You will only hurt those who want to harm you."

Mrs. Soman murmured to herself, as if trying to comfort herself.

"Yes, yes. I will only hurt those who want to hurt us."

Edmund replied with a smile.

So Mrs. Soman resigned herself to her fate. She could never trust Edmund to go into Knockturn Alley on his own, fearing that the next day's headlines would be "Shocking! Hogwarts first-year student slaughters dark wizard in Knockturn Alley."

Therefore, the witch had no choice but to stroke the wedding ring three times clockwise with her right middle finger, and the magic item immediately took effect. With several ear-piercing "snap" sounds, two tall, silent German wizards phantom-shifted to the mother and son's side; they were both old Soman's subordinates.

Edmund, in a fit of madness, applauded his mother's concession, though he was secretly somewhat dissatisfied.

"Are you worried I can't protect you, Mom?" he said calmly, with a rare hint of affection. "Elena, you're worrying unnecessarily."

"With me here, no one can touch a hair on your head."

This declaration did not calm Mrs. Soman down; instead, it made her look even more haggard. The two wizards followed silently behind Mrs. Soman and her son, and before the sun had completely set, they entered Knockturn Lane, a place known as a gathering place for British black wizards and a melting pot of all sorts of people.

Edmund then found an opportunity to fulfill his promise. The four of them hadn't even reached the rather famous Borginborough Magic Shop when they were ambushed.

Four adult wizards suddenly appeared, along with a grumbling goblin blocking the path Soman and his party had taken. Several red lights flashed back and forth, and occasionally a green light would streak past.

Elena only let out a short scream at the very beginning, but she was not good at fighting and was even slower to draw her wand than Edmund.

Edmund was utterly amused by the chaotic brawl unfolding before him. It was understandable; with his limited experience, he simply couldn't appreciate such a village brawl. He drew his wand merely for show.

Although the attackers targeted Soman and his mother, no one really took their fighting ability seriously. Therefore, Edmund could even leisurely extend a single index finger, pointing at the goblin who was jumping the loudest and cursing the most, silently reciting to himself:

【CURSE】

The poor fairy froze for three seconds as if his voice had been silenced, and a strange pattern, accompanied by the sound of brass being struck, crept into his brain...

The demon obscured the remaining destiny of this lowly soul, and the fairy's body had been "conscripted." The fairy screamed madly and shot a dark spell at her former companion.

The wizard he struck let out a strange cry, then fell to the ground without a sound, clutching his head in a contorted position, his eyes wide open and rolled upwards, revealing an extremely terrifying expression.

Logically, in another twenty or thirty seconds, Edmund should have been able to acquire three or four mind-bending flesh-and-blood servants.

There's nothing we can do about it. The curse of the demon god favors creatures with malevolent blood. The stronger the malice, the stronger the curse... These people really seem to want to kill him. Hahaha, could there be a better or more convenient situation?

Edmund, or rather, the thing that identifies as Edmund. He turned and embraced his trembling mother, eagerly awaiting the curse to spread on its own.

Unfortunately, fate seemed unwilling to let him be too smug. As a deep male voice uttered a spell Edmund had never heard before, a powerful force suddenly sent the leaping goblins flying and stunned the two wizards who had not yet been fully "conscripted".

Interestingly, the newcomer did not stop his conquest. In a single instant, he disarmed everyone present and used several trickling streams to subdue all those who had attacked him.

Oh, and among those who were held down was not Edmund, who was only 11 years old and had only moved his fingers.

Edmund wasn't annoyed; he had never lacked servants, nor did he crave power anymore. So he simply looked with interest toward the source of the voice, the source of that power. The first thing he saw was a pair of crescent-shaped spectacles. And behind those spectacles were the same deep blue as his mother, Elena's.

"Incredible! How did you do that? How did you arrive at such perfect time? It's like you were the grand finale!"

As the sun set, the observers hiding behind the dilapidated bricks and wood, holding their breath, were eerily quiet, almost afraid to breathe.

Therefore, Edmund's cheerful childlike voice seemed particularly abrupt and loud.

"Mother, look who's here!"

Edmund smiled pleasingly, while Madame Soman abruptly looked up, her beautiful face drained of color. Her expression was as if she had seen a tiger about to pounce.

The newcomer simply stood there, gazing at her with gentle eyes.

"It's Albus Dumbledore!"

Edmund spoke affectionately in a loud voice, then lowered his voice:

"And what should I call him, Mother?"

"Should I call him my great-uncle or my great-great-uncle?"