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... tudying when we eat." Fred took a bite of the chicken thigh.

"Don't bring Searle like you." George answered immediately.

"I did the math." Sylvia said, looking at Oliver's homework that was being photographed on the table.

"Oliver said you only needed five minutes?" Percy said with a stare.

"Yeah." Sylvia nodded, cleaned up the mashed potatoes in the bowl, and wiped her hands contentedly.

"Bad news." Charlie walked up to them. "Fred, George, Professor McGonagal ...

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The protracted ’witch hunting’ had faded into silence with the end of the Seven Years’ War, and the mysteries of the East Coast had begun to conceal themselves, yet gunpowder was on a rapid rise. Mo Qishang, who should have been utterly confounded, stood at the crossroads of destiny in the name of Arthur. He stared in astonishment at the charging knights, the wizards atop the high towers, and the bizarre wilderness. He felt the sharpness of the longsword and the recoil of the firearm, both clear and unfamiliar. At last, he excitedly shook his robe and, with a smile on his face, said— “Do not believe what I say, for to believe is to exist!”

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