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About Nigel... The thing is, I kind of dialed up the sarcastic remarks because the initial comments suggested that his humor was not sarcastic, but only dry. This has come into effect just now because in drafts, I am way ahead of what I am publishing. That is why I had a hard time optimizing the optimal amount of sarcasm with support, and that is my shortcoming. I received feedback on Patreon as well as here in the last couple of chapters, and I have also toned down the sarcasm again. To be honest, I have reduced Nigel's lines a lot lately, but in the last couple of chapters and the coming few chapters, there are a few important parts that are related to the general plot and Nigel himself, hence his involvement. But, as I stated earlier, Nigel is part of the novel as I wanted to write a sassy, all-knowing, sarcastic butler, and I can't remove him from the story, but I believe I can adjust his involvement to the best without boring you all. Thank you all for the support, and I hope you will like how the story unfolds. All the best.
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The next morning, Harry woke to the comforting weight of Crookshanks sprawled across his chest, the cat's purring a gentle, rhythmic sound that eased him into wakefulness. "Good morning, Crookshanks," he murmured, offering a gentle pat that was met with a contented increase in the purring volume.
Stretching to dispel the remnants of sleep, Harry made his way to the kitchen, where Petunia was putting the finishing touches on breakfast. The scent of freshly brewed coffee mingled with that of toast, creating a warm, inviting atmosphere. "Good morning, Harry. Let's eat, and we should prepare for our trip," Petunia said, her tone carrying a mix of anticipation and a hint of nervousness about their impending visit to the Longbottoms.
Harry nodded in agreement, his stomach responding eagerly to the prospect of breakfast. "Sounds good, Aunty. I'll just freshen up first." With that, he quickly headed back to his room to get ready for the day.
After a quick shower and a change into clean clothes, Harry joined Petunia at the table. The breakfast spread was simple but hearty, perfectly suited to start the day on a high note. As they ate, the conversation flowed easily.
Nigel's voice piped up as they discussed their itinerary. "Ah, a visit to the esteemed Longbottom Manor. Do remember to compliment their garden, Master Harry. I hear it's quite the sight, assuming one has an affinity for exotic, potentially man-eating flora."
Breakfast concluded, and they set about preparing for their visit. Harry gathered a few items he thought might be of interest to their hosts, including a few rare herbs he had picked from the forest inside the Enchanted Haven Briefcase. Some of the herbs and trees in the forest were already extinct in the world, but Harry was too cautious to take them out. Instead, he opted to pick rarer in the real world but still abundant herbs inside the forest. After making sure everything was in place, Harry called for Misty to apparate them to Longbottom Manor.
The morning air was crisp as they stepped outside, waiting for Misty. Harry could sense Petunia's nervous anticipation, a feeling he shared to some extent. The prospect of visiting the Longbottoms, a family of high standing in the wizarding community, was not something to be taken lightly.
Misty appeared with a soft pop, her presence bringing a smile to Harry's face. "Ready to go, Misty?" he asked, his tone light. Misty nodded eagerly, her eyes wide with the responsibility entrusted to her. "Yes, Master Potter. Misty is ready," she replied, her voice a soft squeak.
With a gentle tap from Misty, they were engulfed in a sensation akin to being squeezed through a narrow tube, a discomfort that was over as quickly as it began. They arrived at the gates of Longbottom Manor, a magnificent estate that spoke of ancient magic and history. The gates swung open at their approach, as if welcoming them personally.
As they reached the front door, it swung open to reveal Augusta Longbottom, a formidable figure whose presence commanded respect. Yet, there was a warmth in her eyes as she greeted them. "Welcome, Harry, Petunia, my dear. We've been expecting you."
The interior of the manor was as impressive as its exterior, with magical artifacts and portraits of Longbottom ancestors adorning the walls. Harry presented Augusta with the herbs he had brought, explaining their significance and rarity. "These are from a special place, a haven of sorts. I thought they might find a new home in your gardens."
Augusta examined the herbs with a keen eye, her interest piqued. "Remarkable," she murmured, "Truly remarkable. Thank you, Harry. They will be treasured here."
As they were led into the drawing-room, Harry felt Petunia's apprehension. He placed a reassuring hand on her hand, whispering, "You'll be brilliant, Aunty. Just share your passion as you always do."
Soon, Neville walked down with a man in his forties. This was Neville's uncle, his father's brother, whom Harry had heard of but never met. The man, named Arthur, had a heavy beard and a no-nonsense attitude. Despite his harsh exterior, there was a warmth in his eyes that spoke of a caring nature beneath.
Seeing the man, Harry used his Observe function silently.
[System Message: Arthur Longbottom - A seasoned herbalist with a distinguished academic record. Known for his strict but fair approach. Possesses a deep understanding of magical flora. Loyalty to family and friends is paramount. No malicious intent detected.]
Arthur extended a firm hand to Harry, his grip strong and reassuring. "Heir Potter, I've heard much about you. It's good to finally meet."
Harry returned the handshake with equal firmness. "The pleasure is mine, Mr. Longbottom. Neville speaks very highly of you."
Arthur's laughter filled the room, rich and hearty, as he recounted the tale of his unconventional method for awakening Neville's accidental magic. "I bet he tells the story of how I threw him from the window to awaken his accidental magic. Hahaha! He loves that story a lot." Neville, visibly sweating at the recounting, could only offer a sheepish smile in response. Harry, observing the interaction, couldn't help but smile as well. Despite his initial suspicions about Neville's famous uncle, Arthur's demeanor suggested nothing but warmth and kindness toward his nephew. This revelation left Harry pondering the true source of the long-term Confundus spell on Neville.
As the laughter subsided, Arthur's wife, a kind-faced woman with a gentle demeanor, entered the room accompanied by their two children. The eldest, a boy with his father's strong features softened by his mother's warmth, offered a polite greeting, his posture straight and respectful. Their daughter, younger and with a sparkle of mischief in her eyes, hid slightly behind her mother, peeking out curiously at the guests. Arthur introduced his family, his voice filled with pride, "This is my wife, Helen, and our children, Mark and Lily."
Helen extended a hand, her smile welcoming. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Heir Potter. Neville has shared so much about you." The sincerity in her voice echoed the familial warmth that seemed to permeate the Longbottom home.
Harry, taking her hand planted a soft kiss and replied, "The pleasure is all mine and please call me Harry. Neville's a great friend." He then smiled at the sheepish boy, "Neville's bravery and kindness are a testament to his upbringing." Helen's cheeks flushed with a mother's pride at the compliment.
Helen's smile broadened, her eyes reflecting a warmth that seemed to light up the room. "You remind me so much of your parents," she said with a fondness that made the atmosphere in the room even more welcoming. Arthur, standing beside her, cleared his throat, an awkward chuckle escaping him as he tried to hide his amusement. Helen continued, undeterred by her husband's reaction, "I see Lily's kindness and James's noble demeanor in you. It's quite remarkable."
Arthur, clearing his throat awkwardly, interjected, "Yes, well, your parents left quite the legacy, Harry. It's good to see you carrying it forward." Despite the brief moment of discomfort, his words were sincere, a testament to the respect he held for Harry's family.
Harry's response was a gentle smile, a mixture of gratitude and a touch of sadness touching his features. "Thank you, that means a lot to me. To be compared to them is the highest compliment I could receive." He then turned slightly, bringing Petunia into the circle of conversation. "And this," he said, his voice carrying a note of pride, "is my aunt from my mother's side, Petunia Evans."
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