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The opening day of Hogwarts was September 1st, meaning Harry still had nearly a month of vacation time ahead.
For this month-long break, Vison naturally arranged some study tasks for Harry. Of course, he wasn't going to make Harry spend all his time studying—after all, children need to play a little, don't they?
The only pity was that Harry didn't seem to have any friends. At least, Vison had never seen him with any.
On the first Sunday of August, Harry helped Vison process the freshly harvested plant poison, turning it into a potent poison. As he carefully poured the poisonous essence into a bottle, Harry glanced up at Vison and asked cautiously,
"Professor, when will you start teaching me Charms?"
Vison, who had been examining the quality of Harry's work, paused and looked up.
"I believe I mentioned—you can only formally learn spells after your eleventh birthday..." He trailed off, suddenly realizing Harry had already turned eleven.
"Time flies," Vison muttered with a sigh.
Harry watched him nervously, his fingers tightening around the glass bottle, afraid that Vison might refuse.
"Of course," Vison said at last, setting aside the bottle thoughtfully. "Now that you're eleven, you're officially allowed to learn magic. Technically, you should only start casting spells at Hogwarts, and that's just days away now..."
But seeing Harry's eager face, Vison couldn't bring himself to refuse.
No wonder he noticed Harry bringing along his newly bought wand today—it all made sense now.
"Hagrid took you to Diagon Alley for textbooks, right?" Vison asked.
Harry nodded quickly.
"Then I suppose you've already read through The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 1?" Vison asked, almost rhetorically.
"Er... not really, Professor," Harry replied, a little embarrassed. That book was still under his bed at home.
Ever since returning from Diagon Alley, he'd been busy waving his wand around foolishly and playing with Hedwig.
Books? Harry wasn't exactly familiar with those.
Vison was silent for a long moment. He'd always thought all kids were like he was at that age—devouring every page of their textbooks over summer. Clearly, Harry didn't belong to that group.
"Should I go home and get the book?" Harry offered hesitantly.
"No need." Vison waved his hand and stood up, heading toward his warehouse. "I think my old school textbooks are still here somewhere."
Vison's warehouse, expanded with the Undetectable Extension Charm, was enormous. However, organization wasn't his strong suit, so finding anything was a challenge. After much searching, he finally dug out his old copy of The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 1 from a dusty box in the corner.
A few minutes later, Vison emerged, his robes covered in thick dust, holding a worn copy of the book.
Harry coughed from the cloud of dust as he accepted it.
"Thanks—cough, cough—Professor."
As he flipped through the yellowed pages, Harry noticed that almost every page was crammed with handwritten notes—proof of the book's previous owner's dedication.
Turning back to the first page, Harry spotted a note written in a different hand:
Mom asked me to remind you—don't forget to eat lunch, brother. —Cecilia.
The ink was faded, clearly written many years ago.
Cecilia? Harry thought. He'd never heard Vison mention anyone by that name.
Could she be his sister? But before Harry could dwell on it, his excitement about learning magic pushed the thought aside.
"Where should I start, Professor?" Harry asked eagerly, wand in hand.
Vison chuckled at his enthusiasm and patted the textbook.
"These spells are designed for first-years like you. Just pick one that interests you and give it a shot."
Harry flipped through the book indecisively until Vison suggested,
"How about the Wand-Lighting Charm? That's a good start."
Vison raised his own wand and demonstrated.
"Lumos."
A soft light appeared at the tip of his wand, glowing gently.
Harry's eyes widened in amazement.
"Your turn, Harry," Vison encouraged. "Focus. The book has all the details—check my notes for extra tips."
Harry read the notes carefully. The Wand-Lighting Charm seemed simple but required intense concentration. Losing focus could accidentally set your wand on fire—a warning Miranda Goshawk herself had written.
While Vison returned to brewing potions, he kept an eye on Harry's practice.
"Raise your arm higher, Harry."
"Faster—wave the wand faster."
"Don't forget the incantation!"
Half an hour later, Harry finally managed to produce a tiny ball of light at his wand's tip.
He stared in wonder, excitement written all over his face.
"I did it!" he shouted.
Vison smiled and leaned back, remembering his own first success with a spell.
"This is just the beginning," he said, clapping. "But you did very well, Harry."
Harry's excitement bubbled over.
"What spell are we learning next, Professor?"
Vison smiled mysteriously.
"Potions," he said simply.
Harry's face fell.
"...Oh."
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