The next morning, Anthony went downstairs to have breakfast and then returned to his room, categorizing and organizing his textbooks. His room now looked as if it belonged to a fifth-year student on the eve of their O.W.L.s exams: notes were spread out on the desk, a tall stack of required reading was piled on the floor, and a study schedule was plastered on the wall.
He found the book *Life and Social Habits of British Muggles*, which Professor Binns had enthusiastically recommended, and it would serve as his textbook for the year. He didn’t plan to change textbooks; being new to Hogwarts and the entire magical world, he had no experience—since there was already a classic textbook, he might as well stick with it.
The textbook was about ninety percent new. The first half showed some signs of having been read, while the second half was pristine, as if it had never been opened by its previous owner. Anthony skimmed through it quickly; most of the notes in the book were hurriedly marked points from pre-exams, with underlines that seemed to fly off the page. That anonymous kind-hearted student had just bought it, letting it gather dust, which ultimately allowed Anthony to pick up this bargain from the second-hand shelf.
He flipped to the page where a bookmark was placed. This page might have the most notes in the entire book—its owner had filled it with doodles.
Anthony wished there were artists in the magical world. Given the owner’s attitude towards Muggle Studies, he couldn’t imagine this wizard holding an art exhibition in the Muggle world.
“In recent years, a new technological means has emerged in Muggle society, known as ‘electricity.’ Electricity is to modern Muggles what magic is to us. By utilizing electricity, Muggles have changed their way of life, creating a series of convenient tools that we once thought could only be achieved through magic, such as the telephone.
“This is a device invented by Muggles for remote real-time communication using electricity, similar to some functions of the Floo Network. However, unlike the Floo Network, the telephone can only transmit sound (and usually distorts it) and cannot facilitate face-to-face communication, nor can it be used for transportation…”
The student had idly drawn a fireplace beside “Floo Network” and a bricked-up fireplace next to “telephone,” with a person standing inside the bricked-up fireplace, tapping on the wooden board and speaking to the room.
The student circled the wooden board sealing the fireplace and labeled it: “Electricity.”
“Oh my, completely misunderstood,” Anthony muttered to himself. He looked at the vivid depiction of the fireplace and recalled the toad-like head of the woman who had suddenly appeared in the Ministry of Magic.
I still prefer the telephone; at least I can ignore calls, he thought.
In the following weeks, Anthony immersed himself in a sea of books, chatting with the tavern's patrons whenever he felt tired. Tom also became more familiar with him, starting to call him by his teaching name and teaching him a few kitchen spells, like those for automatically washing dishes or commanding plates to stack themselves by size.
The magical world was much more interesting than he had imagined. The patrons who came to drink shared bits of information about the magical world.
He also learned about the four houses of Hogwarts.
“Be careful of the Slytherin students, Professor,” one man slurred, his tongue slightly thick from drink. “There’s a bunch of bad boys and girls there.”
However, when he heard that Anthony taught Muggle Studies, the man shrugged. “Then you don’t have to worry.”
“Why?” Anthony asked curiously.
“Because no Slytherin would choose your class,” the man said, waving his hand drunkenly but sounding rather confident. “And they usually won’t be foolish enough to provoke you in their spare time. You can deduct points, and that’s why.”
After that customer left, Tom informed him that the man was a graduate of Slytherin.
……
After carefully reading *Life and Social Habits of British Muggles*, Anthony decided to make another trip to Flourish and Blotts to buy some additional materials on Muggle Studies.
He also wanted to purchase a few more books on Charms. He had finished the fifth-grade textbooks and was preparing to strive towards N.E.W.T.s level. Actually, he was also quite interested in Defense Against the Dark Arts, but the textbooks for that course always changed, so he didn’t buy any. The folks at the Leaky Cauldron said this was because the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor changed every year.
“All the masters of Defense Against the Dark Arts in the UK are almost all hired by Hogwarts,” they said. “Who knows, maybe next year they’ll be rehired from their beds at St. Mungo’s.”
Anthony knocked on the wall bricks and stepped onto the narrow cobbled street of Diagon Alley.
Perhaps because he had mastered more formal magical knowledge (rather than just experimenting with his own trial-and-error methods), he felt a greater familiarity with Diagon Alley now compared to the cold and hurried strangeness he felt during his first visit.
I’m a wizard, Anthony thought.
The air was filled with the aroma of freshly baked pastries, the strange scents of magical potions, and exotic spices from distant lands. Shops were adorned with colorful signs and sparkling magic, displaying a variety of magical items, spellbooks, cauldrons, robes, and brooms in their windows.
He walked through the bustling crowd, weaving past their cheerful laughter and chatter, heading straight for Flourish and Blotts.
The clerk behind the counter frequently visited the Leaky Cauldron, so he was somewhat familiar with Anthony. Anthony greeted him from a distance, waving his hand to indicate he didn’t need assistance, then focused his attention on the shelves.
Perhaps because the textbook list for this academic year had already been confirmed, many new books had been replaced on the most prominent shelf in the bookstore. Several children in wizard robes stood beneath the shelves, looking up earnestly for books.
Anthony silently walked past them and made his way to the second-hand book section.
“I really don’t understand why we have to change a textbook every time a professor changes,” a witch in front of the second-hand shelf complained. “Put that down, Fred! We’re not buying that!”
“Mom, I found it!” another red-haired boy exclaimed, waving a book, then glanced at the cover. “Oh, not this one…”
Anthony stood behind this noisy family, studying the messy titles on the shelves. The witch seemed to realize she was blocking him, moved aside a bit, and smiled apologetically at him, to which Anthony returned a smile.
“School is about to start,” she said. “The Defense Against the Dark Arts books change every year, and their brother’s books can’t be used anymore.”
Anthony nodded in understanding, “That really is expensive.”
“Yeah,” she shook her head. “What about you? What are you here to buy?”
“Looking for some materials related to Muggles.”
“Are you also interested in Muggles?” the witch asked enthusiastically. “My husband is a Muggle enthusiast; he talks about switches, engines, and such at the dinner table every day… He would get along with you, you know, we can’t understand those things—oh, I’m Molly Weasley—he’s enchanted by those Muggle things. Look, he has those books over there.” She pointed out some books in the corner.
Anthony cheerfully replied, “Then I’ll buy these.”
He accompanied Mrs. Weasley to find a few textbooks on Defense Against the Dark Arts, and upon saying goodbye, he arranged to have a pen pal: Arthur Weasley. (“The new Muggle Studies professor? Merlin, Arthur will be thrilled! Professor Binns never replies to his letters. I’ll make sure not to let him send too much nonsense, Professor Anthony.”)
After leaving Flourish and Blotts, Anthony originally intended to head straight back to the Leaky Cauldron but changed his mind when he passed the Magical Menagerie, deciding to go in to see if they had any magical cat food.
While living on Privet Drive, his skeletal cat had scorned all the food he bought. Only when Anthony poured white wine would it graciously walk over to the bowl, dipping its head into the wine. The soul fire in its eyes would ignite the white wine, and when the wine in the bowl was burned away, it would contentedly leap back to the sofa.
Ever since Anthony had fixed the skeletal cat’s frame after getting out of Azkaban, it had become much more docile, but it still hadn’t eaten much. It didn’t like the sherry from the Leaky Cauldron and always walked away disdainfully after just a glance—Anthony insisted that the sherry was watered down, even though Tom always denied it.
Perhaps magical cats would eat some magical food that could diversify his cat’s diet.
He pushed open the door to the Magical Menagerie. The crowded shop was filled with the flapping of wings and the soft rustling of fur, while owls perched on perches or windowsills scrutinized the visitors with dignity; cats of various colors wandered along the shelves, their tails swaying with curiosity.
“Buying a pet, sir?” the clerk asked enthusiastically. “Owls and cats are the most popular among children; they’re both clever and clean. We also have smaller pets; here, mice and toads are common Hogwarts pets, while puffskeins and kneazles are very suitable and interesting magical pets…”
“No, no, I just want to look at the cat food,” Anthony declined. He didn’t plan to adopt another pet.
Perhaps due to the influence of necromancy, his cat was unwilling to see any living creature in its territory… Anthony was a reluctant exception.
That said, Anthony might not necessarily be considered a living creature now. According to the history of magic, with the study of necromancy, necromancers seemed to gradually exist between life and death. Some radical classification methods even refused to acknowledge necromancers as human and lumped them together with Grindylows, vampires, werewolves, and other dark creatures.
Anthony pulled his wandering thoughts back, focusing on the clerk passionately explaining the cat food in the Magical Menagerie: this one makes fur smooth, this one reduces shedding, that one is a powerful version specifically for long-haired cats, and over here, there’s one that can temporarily change a cat’s fur color for some added fun in life…
Very tempting, especially when you have a skeletal cat.
“Is there anything unrelated to fur?” he finally couldn’t help but ask.
The clerk paused, “Like what?”
“Like, um, to prevent osteoporosis?”
……
The bemused clerk informed him that if his cat had osteoporosis, he would just need to feed it some diluted bone meal.
Anthony thanked him and planned to go to a regular store to buy some undiluted white wine for the cat.
Outside the Leaky Cauldron was Charing Cross Road. He walked a few steps out and suddenly found himself in the familiar crowd, his wizarding robes contrasting sharply with the surrounding traffic. The once-narrow cobbled street had transformed into a wider road, filled with the vitality of non-magical life. The sounds of car horns, people talking, and footsteps intertwined, harmoniously resonating with the rhythm of the city.
Anthony hurried back to change into a different outfit.
“I’ll learn how to change clothes quickly sooner or later,” he told himself. “I bet someone has figured it out. They even use filling charms to refill drinks.”
Walking into the supermarket felt very subtle.
He had once been a part of this world. Seeing those orderly, quiet shelves brought a wave of warm belonging rising from his heart, almost like a wanderer returning home.
He touched the simple products: dish sponges, calculators, fountain pens… A massive wave of emotion hit him. The soft electric light, the promotional tags, and the customers carrying heavy shopping baskets in this non-magical ordinary supermarket possessed their unique magic—a kind of ordinary, civilized, vibrant magic.
He handed the wine to the cashier and paid with pounds.
“Have a great day!” the young cashier smiled at him.
Anthony replied earnestly, “Thank you, you too. Goodbye.”
Stepping out of the store, he stared at the sign above for a moment, took a deep breath, and turned back towards the Leaky Cauldron.
I just can’t live here or work here anymore, he thought optimistically. Life with magic is also nice, and the Muggle Studies class looks quite easy.
……
Muggle Studies might not be that easy, Anthony thought.
The skeletal cat was contentedly burning the wine in its bowl beside him. He lay in bed, looking at the book he had bought today on Mrs. Weasley’s recommendation, who said her husband spoke highly of it. Anthony originally intended to use it as bedtime reading.
“As wizards, we are often captivated by the mysteries and wonders of the magical world. However, it is equally important for us to understand and appreciate the lives of those who lack magical abilities. In this book, we embark on a journey to explore the intricate lives of Muggles, revealing their unique ways of living.”
“Magic does not feature in the daily lives of Muggles,” the author wrote enthusiastically in the preface. “The magic we use daily, such as Lumos, Reparo, Scourgify, and Apparition, is quite challenging for them. If they need to light a fireplace, they use tools known as ‘firestones’ and ‘flints,’ rather than simply conjuring flames. If they need illumination at night, they cannot use Lumos to light their wands; instead, they use candles. Muggles place candles on a beautiful tray, surrounding them with glass to prevent the flames from being extinguished by the wind.”
Anthony was surprised and flipped back to the title page.
*Muggle Daily Life: A Book to Help You Understand All the Details*
Published: November 1753.
“That makes sense…” he muttered, writing ‘matches’ and ‘lighters’ next to the blank space beside the methods of ignition and labeling ‘flashlights’ next to illumination.
If Mr. Weasley is already among the most interested in Muggles in the wizarding world, Anthony really didn’t know what Hogwarts was teaching.