"That’s indeed the case." Lucius nodded in agreement, "If that’s the case, I have no objections—how much Galleons do you need me to contribute?"

"I think this matter can be discussed slowly, Lucius." Little Sirius said with a smile, "Our holiday is still a long way off. Right now... Well, right now, it’s July 4th. I think our holiday will last until August 31st. Until then, we can carefully discuss this matter, don’t you think?"

"Fine." Lucius nodded in agreement.

By the afternoon, everyone had arrived, and Pabi brought the Scamander family to 12 Grimmauld Square.

Cedric also came, but of course, not by himself.

"Amos!" Mr. Weasley said, striding over to the man behind Cedric with a smile.

It was a wizard with a cheerful demeanor, sporting a red face and short brown beard.

"Let me introduce everyone. This is Amos Diggory." Mr. Weasley turned to the group, "He works at the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures—this is his son, Cedric. I suppose you all know him, right?"

"Of course, we know him." Cedric said with a somewhat shy smile, "I have a good relationship with Harry; we’re both members of the Dueling House."

"My goodness," Amos Diggory’s eyes widened in surprise as he spotted Harry, "Harry? Harry Potter?"

Harry was well accustomed to people’s startled reactions upon seeing him and to everyone first looking at the lightning scar on his forehead.

"Naturally, Cedric has mentioned you." Amos Diggory said with a smile, "He told me about the Triwizard Tournament. I said to him, ’Cedric, you can tell this story to your grandchildren in the future. Just say, you witnessed the birth of a legend!’"

You have to admit, Mr. Diggory’s words were quite likable, leaving a favorable impression on everyone.

"Alright, it’s about time." Little Sirius stepped forward, saying, "I think we should also depart for White Island—I’ve prepared a Nightmare Horse Carriage, and with the Traceless Stretching Spell inside, it’s spacious enough for all of us to fit in, let’s go."

They boarded the Nightmare Horse Carriage, its interior as spacious as a compartment of the Hogwarts Express.

It had everything: a bar, dining table, and sofa.

Fred and George cheered, rushing to the sofa, and turned back to ask, "Anyone up for a card game? Trying out a new trick we’ve learned?"

"Card game?" Mr. Granger inquired with a smile, walking over, "Is it a wizard thing?"

"No, it’s something we learned from Muggles." Fred admitted frankly, "Called... Uh, Blackjack."

"Oh, I’ve played that before." Mr. Granger said with a smile, "But the adults have other matters to discuss, perhaps you can play a few rounds, what do you say?"

And so, it was joyfully decided that Hermione would temporarily act as the dealer.

"Why me!" Hermione said irritably, "I was planning on reading a book."

"Silly girl," Fred and George said in unison, "It’s a gathering of everyone. Wouldn’t it be dull to read on your own? Be good, join us for a game of poker."

In the distance, a few adults sat by the bar, drinking and chatting.

Meanwhile, the kids at the sofa side were eagerly getting ready for the new game.

"There should be some stakes." Fred said, "Let’s think about what to wager, what do you say?"

"Stakes?" Ron raised his hand and asked.

"Oh, you could choose not to play, my dear little Ronnie." George rolled his eyes and said.

Ron didn’t want to back out; he was quite eager to play.

"If you’re going to play, there should be stakes." Fred said with a mischievous smile, "The wager will be Nat, how about that? I’m sure you can afford it, Mom gave you dozens of Galleons as pocket money."

The Weasley family was doing increasingly well, and the Weasleys were becoming more generous—with Ron receiving as much as twenty Galleons for school term pocket money, a feat unimaginable before.

Just two years ago, the Weasley family was still impoverished, but now, they finally belonged to the middle-class families of the Magic World.

However, Mr. Weasley’s aspirations went beyond this; he hoped for the Weasley family to climb even higher.

As the saying goes, water flows to lower places, but human hearts always yearn for greater heights; that’s the idea.

"Here, let me simply explain the rules to you." Fred began, "The game’s goal is to get the total card value as close to 21 points as possible, but not over 21. The game uses 1 to 8 decks of cards, each player starts with two cards, and the dealer also has two cards, one face-up and one face-down. K, Q, J, and 10 valued cards count as 10 points, A can count as either 1 or 11 points; other cards are calculated at face value. If a player receives an initial hand with an A and a 10-point card, forming a ’natural Blackjack’, in the absence of the dealer holding the same, the player wins 1.5 times the bet. Players can choose to take more cards or stand, but exceeding 21 points results in a bust."

"Got it?" He asked again.

"Got it." Everyone said together.

Fred began dealing the cards, giving each person two cards.

"What do you say?" He looked at Ron first.

"Hit me." Ron said.

"No," Fred replied, "Normally, people don’t say ’Hit me.’ If you want a card, you should do this instead."

With that, Fred extended his finger and tapped the table twice.

"Understand?" he asked.

Ron followed Fred’s instruction, revealing his hole card, but instead of tapping the table, he said, "Stay."

"No, don’t say stay," Fred said, extending his hand, palm down, waving it side to side, teaching him, "Do it like this."

Ron made a sound of acknowledgment, mimicking Fred’s hand movements.

"Just like that." Fred said with a smile, continuing to ask the next person if they wanted a card.

They played for about an hour, concluding with Ron’s sweeping victory.

"Is that real?" Fred questioned his lucky streak, "How are you so lucky?"

"Guess?" Ron laughed, delighted—winning was inherently delightful, and causing his brothers to question life made it even better.

Not far away, Bill and Fleur sat before the window in tranquil harmony, hand in hand, resting together with eyes closed.

Who knows what thoughts occupy the minds of couples in love; they can rest in this same posture all day, never feeling bored.

Harry, originally lying on the sofa, rested his head on Cassandra’s lap watching the card game, succumbed to a sudden wave of drowsiness, his eyelids began fighting.

He had to admit, Cassandra and Pabi were quite different after all.

After all, lying on Pabi’s lap obscured the face, whereas lying on Cassandra’s lap gave him a clear view of her delicate face.

Sometimes, that’s not exactly a great thing.

Harry thought, drowsiness gradually overwhelmed him.

...

"Have you found it?"

In a dazed state, Harry seemed to hear such a voice.

Very familiar, Harry almost immediately connected it to Voldemort.

"Of course, my lord."

A sinister voice responded from the other side, and Harry raised his head, finding himself in what seemed like a subterranean chamber.

He looked ahead to see a figure in classic black robes, unmistakably Voldemort.

And in front of Voldemort lay a dormant, slumbering dragon.

The dragon’s form felt immensely familiar to Harry.

It’s him.

Lanlock?!