Chapter 6: Exploring the House Elf
It was another sunny day. After completing the unbeatable new version of radio gymnastics, I enjoyed a hearty meal—house-elf-style potato stew and beef rice bowl—crafted perfectly under Alexander Smith's guidance.
With a cup of black tea in hand, I drifted once more into the ocean of memories. Suddenly, a thought struck me: I remembered the description of the second floor of the old Black family house. Alongside the staircase, a row of shriveled heads hung on the wall—old, lifeless, and mutilated. They were the heads of beheaded house-elves.
Something didn't add up. The Black family supposedly had many house-elves, yet by the time of the original story, only Kreacher remained. But elves have family lines—Winky once mentioned serving the Crouch family from birth, taking over the role from her mother and grandmother.
"Isn't Jack the only elf in our family?" I murmured.
"Jack," I called aloud.
With a soft pop, the house-elf appeared. "Master Alexander."
"Are you the only house-elf in our family?"
"Master Alexander, our family has served the Smith line for generations. But we elves pride ourselves on keeping everything in order while remaining unseen. Only one elf is ever tasked with serving the master directly. The others remain in the kitchens and other areas."
"Have you ever heard of Kreacher?"
"You mean the Black family's Kreacher? He's an unqualified elf, Master. I've heard from my friends that he's always dizzy and his house is in chaos."
"Alright. I've eaten. You can clean up now—I'm going to take a nap."
That exchange left me thoughtful. It was clear now—just like Winky, elves had their own society.
The Crouch and Malfoy families weren't connected, yet Winky knew Dobby—his character, his desire for freedom, and even his guilt over it. Elves, though bound to wizarding families, had a culture of their own. They knew each other. They had networks. Otherwise, how would children even be born among them?
Most wizards never bothered to understand this part of their world. But to me, it was fascinating.
Time flew by. Evening arrived, and for dinner, I had "Three-Cup Chicken." Jack's culinary skills were impressive. He could recreate a dish from another country with only a few words of description from me, and it always turned out perfect.
Perhaps it was Hermione's influence, or maybe it was Jack's unusual behavior during our Diagon Alley visit. But today, my curiosity about house-elves had only grown.
After the meal, I summoned Jack again.
"Jack, do you remember the last time we went to Diagon Alley, and you wore my grandfather's magic hat? What happened then?"
"When I put it on, Master Alexander, I lost consciousness. It was the memory left behind by Master George. My mind was overwhelmed, and I began remembering who I truly was. I only regained awareness once the hat was removed."
"Jack… do you have a child?"
"Yes, Master. His name is Claude. He's still young and helps out in the kitchens."
Satisfied for the day, I asked Jack to fetch me a copy of How Prefects Obtain Power, Percy's favorite book from the original series. As I read it with a critical eye, I marveled at the political maneuvers within the wizarding world.
Later that night, I stayed up reading. Eventually, I washed up and went to sleep.
In my dream, I was mocked mercilessly in Ollivanders for not being able to sense magic. Severed heads floated around me, taunting me—Zhou Yi from my past life, Daniel's Harry Potter, Emma's Hermione, and even Jack.
"What the hell?" I awoke in a cold sweat—but oddly enough, my Thinking skill had leveled up again.
Then it hit me. I had a system. If I focused on developing in one direction, I could surpass Harry Potter's innate magical perception. Maybe I could even see character panels like in an RPG.
A month passed.
I added a daily post-nap routine: observation. Every day, I asked Jack to bring me different creatures or materials. I'd touch, examine, and analyze them from various perspectives, building knowledge and sharpening my skills.
Finally, my character panel updated:
---
Name: Alexander Smith
Race: Wizard
Strength: 13 (Human limit: 10)
Constitution: 28 (Human limit: 10)
Magic Power: 20 (Human limit: 10)
Skills:
Thinking Lv.3 (11%)
Physical Enhancement Lv.3 (54%)
Alchemy Lv.2 (44%)
Spellcraft Lv.2 (19%)
Potions Lv.2 (2%)
Transfiguration Lv.2 (53%)
Gunfighting Lv.2 (2%)
Martial Arts Lv.2 (6%)
Investigation Lv.1 (2%)
---
"Jack, don't move or resist."
With my eyes narrowed in concentration, I stared at Jack. A transparent blue interface appeared across my vision. In the top-right corner, a full-body portrait of Jack emerged.
Large bat-like ears. Tennis-ball-sized eyes. A sleek black deacon's uniform. Then came his stats:
---
Race: House Elf
Strength: 6 (Human limit: 10)
Constitution: 22 (Human limit: 10)
Magic Power: 33 (Human limit: 10)
Skills:
Cleaning Lv.5 (56%)
Apparition Lv.4 (33%)
Magic Control Lv.3 (65%)
Gardening Lv.2 (32%)
Cooking Lv.5 (33%)
---
Those were dazzling stats. Aside from strength and constitution, Jack's abilities blew mine out of the water. No wonder the elf army in Deathly Hallows played such a critical role in defending Hogwarts—Kreacher even apparated into Voldemort's Horcrux lairs! Of course, part of that was Voldemort's arrogance in underestimating house-elves.
Once again, I was tempted to break my promise of laying low.
The next day, I headed to a British dessert shop: 12 Little Newport St, Chinatown, WC2H 7JJ, a cozy place with authentic Cantonese flavors. I picked it after scouting many others—it wasn't overly sweet and didn't use strange artificial dyes. But even that couldn't cover up my foul mood.
In The Magic of Names, I had read that names contain magic. As someone who inherited the Smith name, I should've remained unnoticed—just like my ancestors.
Yet somehow, after arriving in this world, I'd awakened a strange power. My striking face drew too much attention, as if I were glowing in the crowd.
So much for blending in.
Despite my grim expression, big sisters and eccentric aunties kept striking up conversations. In fact, the worse my expression got, the more excited they became.
The shopkeeper, amused, even waived my bill—saying I had brought in so many customers.
Along with the women came their boyfriends and male friends, filling up the shop. Just like bars that attracted crowds with high-quality women, this place now had balance.
As the crowd swirled around me, I noticed something else. Most ordinary people's stats were below 10, and they had no magic. I remembered my system's note: magic power was a form of spiritual energy.
I smirked, watching my Investigation skill tick upward with every interaction. These minor annoyances? They were worth it.
(End of Chapter)
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