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Chapter 225 - Chapter 225: Newt's Suitcase

"I understand!" Newt hurriedly cut her off, then picked up Wade's suitcase. "I've arranged a room for you on the 1st floor. Open the door and you'll see the lake behind the house—the view's quite nice. I hope you'll like it."

"That sounds wonderful… Is there a kelpie in the lake?"

"Actually, I also have a few merfolk friends…"

"Really? Then you must speak Mermish, right?"

"A little bit, but I heard Dumbledore is very skilled in it…"

"Newt…" Tina said helplessly.

"Ah! Sorry…" Newt grabbed the suitcase and dashed upstairs in a hurry.

Wade chuckled, scooped Nagini up from the table, said goodnight to everyone, and then followed Newt up the stairs.

Early the next morning, Wade was already up. After breakfast, he and Newt slipped aside to discuss Nagini's recovery plan.

Once the preliminary plan was drawn up, Newt brought Wade into his suitcase to visit his many "friends."

Just as Queenie had said, when Newt introduced his "friends," his eyes practically glowed—it really was like a big boy proudly showing off to his friend.

Of course, Jacob followed along the whole time, even if he didn't quite understand everything.

But having an extra audience only made Newt even more enthusiastic.

If Tina hadn't knocked him on the head again, he might have dragged Wade to the nearby forest to see a dragon currently under his care for psychological treatment!

"That dragon's a bit depressed," Newt said, rubbing his sore head. "But I haven't figured out the cause of its depression yet. Still, it really is dangerous… I wasn't thinking carefully, Wade…"

"It's fine…" Wade sneaked a glance at Tina busy in the kitchen, then whispered, "Actually, I have plenty of means to protect myself! How about… we go take a look in secret?"

"Th-this… wouldn't be proper, would it?" Newt's restless heart began to stir again.

"We can just watch from a distance. If we don't get too close, it should be fine," Wade said.

He really hadn't seen many live dragons yet.

A dragon was valuable all over—if he could raise one himself…

"Then… let's bring along the Zouwu! If anything really happens, at least you'll be able to run faster!"

"I can fly, Newt…"

"Dragons can fly too, Wade!"

Jacob had been watching the two of them conspiring the whole time, and for a moment, he wasn't sure if he ought to go tattle on them or not.

...

The morning sunlight filtered through the branches of the trees and fell across the windowsill of Tom's bedroom.

Today was a rare sunny day.

Tom had already gotten up, tidied himself, and finished breakfast.

Without a house-elf to serve him, and after refusing the help of the Riddle family's servants, he had no choice but to cook for himself, following a cookbook on magical cuisine.

Still, with the help of magic, even someone who didn't know how to cook could produce decent dishes by following the steps.

Tom was talented in potions and cooking was far simpler than brewing potions.

Tom glanced at the clock hanging in his room—it was only about nine o'clock in the morning.

But instead of going outside to practice spells as he usually did,

he stood at the window for a moment, gazing at the sunlight outside in thought.

Then he picked up his book, walked quickly downstairs, and left the grove.

Old Tom, as usual, sat in his bedroom in his favorite spot, quietly reading.

At least on the surface, it seemed as though the wizard attack from a few days ago hadn't affected him.

Just as Old Tom picked up the teacup beside him and took a gentle sip, he caught sight of someone entering through the door out of the corner of his eye.

"Tom… why have you come here today?" Old Tom asked in surprise.

From what he knew of his son, Tom normally wouldn't leave his grove so easily.

"It's nothing… Today I felt like reading, and this place of yours seems quite suitable… May I read here?" Tom said.

"Of course you may." Though Old Tom was surprised by Tom's uncharacteristic behavior, he had no intention of refusing him.

Though they still seemed somewhat unfamiliar with each other, the attack a few days ago had, in truth, drawn them closer in an unspoken way.

Old Tom stood up, glanced around his room, and went over to a desk piled high with books. With some effort, he picked up a stack of them.

He wanted to clear the desk so that Tom would have a place to sit and read.

Tom drew his wand and gave it a light tap, and the books on the desk floated up by themselves, stacking neatly one by one in the corner of the room.

The burden lifted from Old Tom's hands. "Oh… thank you… It does seem magic is rather convenient."

"You've only just recovered from serious injuries, don't strain yourself…" Tom paused for a moment, then asked, "Have they left?"

"Mm… they boarded a ship to France just this morning… The events of the past few days affected them greatly. Taking a trip to relax will do them good," Old Tom said calmly.

After all, Grandpa and Grandma Riddle were elderly. Even though Wade had removed many terrible memories during treatment, the experience of that day had still inevitably left some damage on their minds.

So Old Tom had arranged for them to travel, to ease their spirits.

After that, father and son suddenly fell into silence. Each sat quietly at the desk, reading their own books…

During this time, Old Tom even had a servant brew Tom a pot of tea and bring some snacks.

As for the butler, Mr. August, he was busy trying to recruit new guards.

The results weren't very good.

Because of what had happened that day, what the Ministry of Magic told the Muggles was that bandits had attacked the Riddle Manor, and many of the manor's guards had been killed.

This left the Muggles frightened…

Few dared to work in such a dangerous place.

Mr. August had to raise the wages just to barely recruit a handful of people…

No one knew how much time had passed when Tom suddenly stood up and walked over to Old Tom.

"What is it?" Old Tom asked in surprise.

He couldn't shake the feeling that his son was acting a bit unusual today.

"May I see the book you're reading?" Tom asked.

"The book I'm reading?" Old Tom lifted the book in front of him and glanced at the cover. "I'm not sure if it's something you'd enjoy…"

"I can give it a try… Sorry for disturbing you," Tom said.

"It's fine, I've read this book many times already."

As he spoke, Old Tom handed the book in front of him over to Tom.

When Tom picked it up, he turned one of his own hairs into a delicate bookmark and slipped it into the page Old Tom had been reading, before turning it over to glance at the title.

"The Republic… Plato…" Tom murmured, reading the title and author on the cover.

"Plato was a philosopher of ancient Greece. The Republic is his representative work," Old Tom gave a brief introduction.

"I see…" Tom frowned. This wasn't the kind of book that appealed to him, yet he still didn't put it down. Instead, he carried it back to his desk, as though he really did intend to give it a serious read.

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