"So—your parchment—" Ferdinand said, looking pale.
"Friendship Book, dear, it's a Friend—ship—Book!"
Fiona corrected him discontentedly—how could her son's outstanding and great invention be simply referred to as "parchment"?
"Alright—Friendship Book—" Ferdinand corrected himself, staring at Vid: "You sold the patent—they gave you fifty thousand Galleons—and there will be continuous—patent royalties?"
His demeanor seemed off, making the originally joyful Vid feel a bit uneasy. He instinctively became serious and replied earnestly, "Yes, father."
"There was even someone—who wanted to buy it out for two hundred thousand Galleons—but your professor didn't agree?"
"Yes."
Ferdinand seemed to have difficulty breathing and said, "You still went with your professor—"
"—Professor Morry."
"Yes, Professor Morry—with a merchant—to Diagon Alley—"
"—It was Mr. Marco Marchioni." Vid considered for a moment and said, "They all took good care of me."
"And in front of you—and a Goblin, he deposited the fifty thousand Golden Galleons?"
"Yes, father."
Ferdinand's expression was too peculiar, not simply proud or happy, making Vid a bit anxious.
It was only then he realized he should have sought his parents' opinion at that time—but under Machioni's urging, everything today seemed accelerated, and he instinctively overlooked it.
Logically, Professor Morry and Machioni weren't careless people. But considering his parents didn't know magic, perhaps in their eyes, despite Vid being only eleven, he was the only one in the Gray family who could equally communicate and make decisions.
Realizing this made Vid feel slightly uncomfortable. He suppressed these emotions and tried to say as casually as possible, "Because school is about to start, Mr. Machioni was very anxious, afraid to miss this money-making opportunity, so everything seemed rushed—sorry, Dad, I forgot I should have come back and discussed it with you first."
"Alright! Vid is only eleven years old, do you expect him to be meticulous in everything?" Fiona pretended to be displeased and pushed Ferdinand away, then hugged her son and kissed his forehead hard: "Wonderful, baby! Mom is so proud of you! How many eleven-year-old kids can achieve financial independence on their own? And with a patent entirely belonging to you! It's so shocking! I can't believe I gave birth to such an excellent son!"
She pecked him continuously, then pulled Vid up from the sofa, urging, "What are you waiting for? Hurry up and have dinner, I made a big meal! Ferdinand—you go wash your hands too!"
"—Alright."
Vid, pushed towards the dining table, turned around and saw Ferdinand standing up by gripping the sofa back, even staggering and almost falling as he walked to the bathroom.
Fiona didn't see it; she hummed a tune as she cheerfully lifted a lid, and the aroma of food instantly awakened their taste buds. But Ferdinand couldn't eat at all; he almost poked a tomato up his nose, and after his steak fell off the fork, he only realized after chewing a few bites with just a fork in his mouth.
"Your dad is just too shocked!" Fiona, worried Vid might feel frustrated or disappointed, whispered to him, "When he was eleven, he couldn't even get a grip on addition and subtraction within a hundred!"
That was overly exaggerated.
Vid couldn't help but smile, both for the non-existent bumbling father his mother described and for the twinkling love in her eyes.
"Dad—" After dinner, Vid tentatively asked, "Professor Morry helped me a lot today, although he said it's not necessary, I still want to thank him, but I don't know how—"
According to some "unspoken workplace rules" he learned from his previous life, giving two or three thousand Galleons to someone like Professor Morry would be expected in gratitude, otherwise it's "not knowing how to behave." But Vid hesitated for a long time, still feeling that if he said such a thing, Professor Morry might lose his temper on the spot.
The previous experience couldn't apply now, at least not for Professor Morry, otherwise, it might be unclear whether it's "gratitude" or "insult."
As an eleven-year-old, Vid knew he didn't need to act overly worldly or smooth. But to accept Professor Morry's goodwill as if nothing happened seemed impossible for Vid.
"Oh—" Ferdinand seemed not quite alert, and only after a while did he say, "Write a thank-you letter, Vid—"
"Write a letter?"
Vid didn't expect that the advice he gave Steven during the day would return to him from his father at night.
"Yes, write a letter, be sincere and earnest—" Ferdinand thought for a moment and said, "Remember to send a small gift on Professor Morry's birthday or holidays—the most important thing is to repay with better grades..."
"I understand." Vid nodded.
"Hmm, go write the letter, Vid. And—" Ferdinand managed to show a smile with some difficulty: "I'm very proud of you, son."
…
Watching his son return to his bedroom, Ferdinand plopped down in the chair, his hands digging into his hair, looking particularly despondent.
"What's wrong with you today?" Fiona hugged him from behind, resting her head on his neck, her long hair slipping down his shoulder. She grumbled discontentedly, "Vid's little invention made a lot of money, the school professor is so good to him, and the merchant he met is trustworthy and enthusiastic... everything is great, why are you making that face? Vid didn't even smile when he went back to his room... Ferdinand, no matter what, don't be the kind of parent that ruins the moment..."
She mumbled, feeling her husband's tense muscles gradually relax.
"Yeah, you're right." Ferdinand held his wife's hand and tried to smile: "Their professor is a good person... everything is great... I was just too shocked, sorry..."
"I'm okay, just remember to properly apologize to Vid tomorrow morning... He shared his achievements with you happily, and yet you didn't even give him a good look..."
"—Got it."
…
Late at night, after his wife was completely asleep, Ferdinand put on his coat and went to the balcony. He wanted to light a cigarette, but his hands trembled so much that he tried several times before succeeding.
Finally lighting it, he took a deep drag, the smoke blurring his eyes and the loneliness of the London night.
Only at this moment, the overwhelming fear completely engulfed Ferdinand.
His Vid... his intelligent, sensible, and kind son... a mind worth at least a million Pounds Sterling, possessing immense wealth ready to be cashed in... following some strangers, going to completely unfamiliar places... What if Vid encounters danger... if he gets hurt... what could he do as a father...
Wizards come and go without a trace, and Ferdinand didn't even know where to find him...
He smoked one cigarette after another, his body trembling from fingertips to toes.
The night was cold, making one shiver.
…
Upstairs, Vid watched the wisps of smoke drift away and saw the faint flicker of firelight again and again.
He leaned against the railing, slightly lifting his head, seeing the waning moon hanging like a silver hook on the spire of a tall building.