Hearing the interrogative tone in the stranger's voice, Robert paused and studied the speaker with a hint of confusion.
"Hello," the Hobbit said politely. "May I ask who you are?"
"I am Robin Smallburrow, the Sheriff of Great Smials."
Robert blinked in mild surprise. He had not expected to encounter a Hobbit law officer so soon after arriving in the Shire. From everything he had heard, Hobbits rarely needed anything resembling a police force.
"Greetings, Sheriff Robin," Robert replied courteously. "My name is Robert. I've just arrived from Hobbiton and plan to travel throughout the Shire."
"The Wizard Robert?!"
Robert froze for a moment. "Huh? Sheriff, you know me?"
Robin cleared his throat, looking slightly embarrassed by his own outburst. "Ahem. News about a Wizard coming to Hobbiton has already spread across the Shire. I simply didn't expect you to visit Great Smials so soon."
Once Robert's identity was confirmed, the sheriff's attitude changed noticeably. His earlier caution vanished, replaced by open enthusiasm and curiosity. Like most Hobbits, Robin had heard stories of Wizards since childhood, but meeting one in person was an entirely different experience.
Under Sheriff Robin's guidance, Robert was escorted to the only inn in town, The Bird and Baby Inn. The name struck Robert as peculiar, though he kept that thought to himself. More troublesome was the inn's construction. The ceilings were so low that he had to remain constantly aware of his posture to avoid bumping his head.
The sleeping arrangements were equally challenging. Hobbit-sized beds were far too short for him, and the innkeeper had to push two beds together before Robert could barely stretch out his legs. Despite the inconvenience, Robert accepted the arrangement with good humor. After days of travel, any bed was better than none.
As he settled into the room, a familiar translucent panel appeared before his eyes.
[Hogwarts Check-in System: Location confirmed — The Shire, Great Smials. Check in?]
Robert's heart leapt with excitement. Without hesitation, he answered aloud, "Check in!"
[Check-in successful. Congratulations. You have received the Hogwarts First-Year Charms Textbook: Standard Book of Spells, Grade 1.]
A phantom spellbook materialized out of thin air, floating quietly in front of him. The cover shimmered faintly, as if woven from condensed magic. Robert quickly discovered that the book responded directly to his will, turning pages as soon as he thought of doing so.
Suppressing his excitement proved impossible. He immediately opened the book and began reading.
The contents of the first-year Charms textbook were straightforward. It recorded only five fundamental spells: the Lumos Charm, the Levitation Charm, the Incendio Charm, Alohomora, and the Reparo Charm. None of them possessed direct offensive power, but to Robert, they were priceless.
Since transmigrating into this world, this was the first time he had come into contact with a true spell system. Previously, although he possessed raw magical power, he could only use it in the crudest way—directly manipulating magic to move objects.
That method vaguely resembled the Levitation Charm, but the difference was enormous. Direct control required immense concentration and consumed magical energy at an alarming rate. Even the slightest distraction would cause the effect to collapse.
When Robert had used magic to control a flying cleaver as a weapon, he had been forced to focus entirely on maintaining its trajectory. While doing so, he was unable to react to his surroundings, effectively turning himself into a defenseless target.
Spells, on the other hand, were different. They functioned like stable anchors. Although concentration was required during the moment of casting, once the spell was successfully released, it only required a steady supply of magical power to maintain. The magical effect itself remained consistent and reliable.
This realization alone made the textbook invaluable.
Robert flipped through the pages again before deciding to begin with the simplest spell listed: Lumos.
He carefully memorized the spell's theoretical principles, the flow of magic required, and the precise casting movements. Only after fully understanding each step did he attempt to cast it.
"Lumos."
Without a wand, Robert could only mimic the standard wand movement with his bare hand. As expected, the first attempt failed completely.
He did not feel discouraged. Casting without a wand meant performing wandless magic, an extremely advanced technique. Most Wizards in the magical world struggled even with silent casting, let alone wandless spells.
In fact, many ordinary Wizards lost most of their combat ability the moment they were separated from their wands, becoming scarcely stronger than Muggles.
Robert took a deep breath and tried again.
After several attempts, a faint glimmer appeared at his fingertip. The light was no brighter than that of a firefly and extinguished almost instantly, but Robert's eyes lit up with excitement.
Encouraged, he continued.
"Lumos!"
This time, a steady white glow bloomed at the tip of his index finger, illuminating the room like soft candlelight. The sight filled Robert with genuine joy. Though simple, it was his first true spell in this world.
The following day, Sheriff Robin returned to the inn and warmly invited Robert to tour Great Smials.
Their first stop was the Town Hole, where the local municipal affairs were handled. Robert was formally introduced to the Mayor of the Shire, who welcomed him with remarkable warmth.
The governance of the Shire differed greatly from that of the outside world. Laws were ancient and loosely enforced, and most towns practiced near-complete self-governance. Hobbits voluntarily fulfilled civic duties, guided more by tradition than authority.
As a result, the Mayor's responsibilities were limited. He primarily hosted banquets, managed the postal service, and oversaw general security. The position was elected once every seven years and carried more honor than power.
After leaving the Town Hole, Sheriff Robin led Robert to the Mathom-house, the Shire's museum.
In Hobbit vernacular, a "mathom" referred to an object considered too valuable to discard yet too useless to employ in daily life. Accordingly, the Mathom-house served as a repository for such items.
Robert, however, was astonished by what he saw inside.
In addition to relics representing Hobbit history, the museum contained numerous weapons—bows and arrows, spears, armor, longswords, and axes.
He stopped before a finely crafted bow and quiver of arrows. Made from an unfamiliar orange-yellow wood, the bow was as hard as iron yet remarkably flexible. Elegant patterns were carved along its surface.
"These are said to have once belonged to an Elf," Sheriff Robin explained, noticing Robert's interest. "They've been kept here for a very long time."
Robert was genuinely surprised. He had not expected Elven weapons to be quietly stored in a Hobbit museum.
Next, the sheriff showed him several pieces of armor and axes allegedly forged by Dwarves. One set of armor was clearly sized for a Hobbit and bore deep scars from battle.
Robert found it difficult to imagine what kind of enemy could have forced these gentle folk to fight so fiercely.
At last, they stopped before a vest of shimmering silver mail. Woven from countless interlocking rings, it was soft, flexible, and yet radiated incredible durability.
Unlike the other pieces, this mail appeared to be sized perfectly for Robert's height and build.
"It was forged by Dwarves," Sheriff Robin said. "It can't be cut by blades or melted by fire. Unfortunately, no Hobbit can wear it, so it remains here."
Robert felt a powerful temptation. As a physically fragile Wizard, he desperately needed reliable protection.
"Sheriff Robin," he asked carefully, "is this mail for sale?"
The sheriff shook his head with an apologetic smile. "I'm afraid not. The items in the Mathom-house are public property. To obtain it, you would need the consent of all the residents of Great Smials."
Disappointment flickered across Robert's face, but Robin quickly brightened.
"However," the sheriff added cheerfully, "if you were willing to demonstrate your magic at our upcoming banquet, I believe everyone would gladly agree."
"What banquet?" Robert asked.
"Five days from now marks the 1200th anniversary of Great Smials' founding. The entire town will gather at Great Smials Hall. You are more than welcome to join us."
Robert agreed without hesitation. Originally, he had planned to leave after completing his check-in, but now he decided to remain a few more days.
After all, opportunities—and enchanted mail—were worth waiting for.