"Your mother…I mean that girl" 

When Professor Watson finished recounting the tragic story of how he became an orphan at a young age, Harry felt a lump in his throat and a tightness in his chest. He had been listening with wide-eyed shock and disbelief for a while, but now he realized that he couldn't find a proper word to refer to the woman named Melina Depp! 

The Dursleys had always tried their best to ignore him and even abuse him for so many years, but even so, Harry had to admit that they were qualified parents in some sense, because they treated their son Dudley with affection and care. And this woman named Melina…she completely shattered Harry's conception of what 'parents' meant! 

"She was eventually…" 

"Dead." 

Bryan rubbed his fingers together, his expressions were complex. 

"By the time Grandma Ferrena finally managed to get some help, she had been swept away by the raging water for a long time. The river was frozen over and covered with a thick layer of snow, so no one knew where she ended up or if they could ever find her body." 

'This was a fitting end for someone who did such a horrible thing.'

Harry thought so in his heart, but he didn't dare to say it out loud. He didn't want to upset Professor Watson any further. 

Outside the room, the rainstorm had died down, and the antique clock leaning against the wall opposite the two people ticked loudly as it marked the passing of time. The noise outside the corridor grew louder and louder, and Harry could hear some sobbing and crying sounds mixed in it, but no one dared to intrude into this private reception room from beginning to end. 

Harry lowered his head and stared at the luxurious velvet carpet under his feet. He suddenly felt a surge of gratitude for his own fate. True, his parents were killed by Voldemort shortly after he was born, but Harry could be certain of one thing: his parents loved him dearly and they sacrificed their lives to protect him from harm. 

"Do you hate them?" 

"No, I don't." 

Bryan shook his head and gave an answer that stunned Harry. 

"I don't resent them, just as I don't love them. I just think it's a very sad and unfortunate thing that happened to them and to me." 

The rain had stopped, but the sky was still gloomy and overcast. Bryan stood up and walked to the window and opened it. He looked at the crowd of people who had quickly gathered downstairs in the yard. They were all dressed in black and had solemn expressions on their faces. Then he squinted his eyes and took a few deep breaths of fresh air after the rain. He felt a slight breeze on his face and his mood gradually improved. 

"What about your maternal grandfather and grandmother?" 

After a long silence, Harry raised his head and asked curiously, "Have you ever tried to find out what happened to them?"

"They ah–" 

Bryan smiled faintly at the birds that flew past in front of him. He stretched out lazily and said in a nonchalant tone, 

"I heard from their neighbors that not long after their worthless daughter brought a child on their doorstep, they packed up their things and moved away. They said they moved to a city in America." 

Harry wanted to ask Professor Watson if he had ever felt the urge to visit his maternal grandparents later, but when he opened his mouth, he suddenly realized that this was a very pointless question, so he quietly shut it again. 

At this moment, there was a knock on the door outside. After getting Professor Watson's permission, the door was pushed open gently. The old butler Lawrence came in with a stack of paper-like documents and walked slowly towards them. 

The very courteous Lawrence walked past Harry without even glancing at him. He came directly to Professor Watson who was standing by the window. He bowed respectfully with sorrow on his face. 

Harry didn't mind Lawrence's indifference towards him, nor did he wonder why he had that look on his face. These were all self-evident things. 

"Young master–" 

Lawrence's eyes were red and his voice was hoarse. 

"I've told you, Lawrence, my name is Bryan Watson, not 'young master'," 

Bryan looked at this old butler who had served two generations of masters of the Watson family faithfully. His heart was also filled with mixed emotions. This old butler might be the only person in this house who he was willing to talk to more than necessary. 

Lawrence's lips twitched slightly. He looked at the young man in front of him as if he saw Claude Watson twenty years ago, 

"Follow your will–"

Lawrence sniffed and nodded, "In the past two years since Master fell ill, he had secretly sold most of the assets owned by the Watson family, including Grunnings Drill Company. His original intention was to donate all the money to charity, to support various causes such as education, health, and environment." 

Bryan raised his eyebrows and guessed what Lawrence was going to say next. 

"–But just now, Mr. Watson changed his will. He left all the money and this mansion to you." 

Bryan smiled and asked with interest, "Can I ask how much money is there?" 

"Stocks of five companies, three mansions in London and Birmingham, a villa on Mallorca Island, a Mediterranean paradise, luxury cars, some antiques from various countries in the world, yachts… it was handled hastily, so in the end, we only got…"" 

Lawrence quickly said a number that made Bryan's eyes widen and his mouth twitch. 

What a 'only got'! Bryan rolled his eyes and almost choked. 

Even Harry, who had gradually tended to 'galleons, sickles and knuts' for the concept of money, widened his eyes when he heard this number, and his heart suddenly slowed down by half a beat! He wondered how many chocolate frogs he could buy with that fortune. 

'If the Dursleys knew about this, they would probably faint with jealousy-' Harry thought so.

"If you have no objections, these documents need your signature." Lawrence handed the documents to Bryan. 

"No need, Lawrence, just do as he intended before." 

Bryan bypassed the documents and walked to the door. Halfway through, he put his arm on Harry's shoulder and took him away. 

"Are we going to have lunch, Professor Watson?" 

Harry asked with some confusion. "Oh, I don't know why, but I suddenly lost my appetite," 

Bryan blinked and smiled, "And since the rain has stopped, I think we might as well leave first." 

Neither Harry nor the old butler Lawrence showed any surprise at Bryan's choice. 

"Mr. Watson–" 

The door opened. When Bryan and Harry were about to disappear from sight, Lawrence suddenly called out to them. Facing the questioning gaze, he choked a few times, 

"Young Master , this house, it's been the ancestral home of the Watson family for generations. It has witnessed the glory and decline of your family. It is a part of your heritage…" 

Looking at this white-haired old butler who was loyal to the Watson family, Bryan slowly nodded. 

"Since that's the case, Lawrence, then you shall be the one to look after it for the Watson family. You have served them faithfully for so long. You deserve to live here peacefully and comfortably." 

"I won't say goodbye to your uncle and aunt, Potter–" 

Outside the house on Privet Drive No. 4, Bryan got out of the taxi and said. He noticed Potter's astonishment and explained with a smile, 

"Because I found that your uncle and aunt don't seem to like me very much." 

"Oh, they don't like anything related to magic." 

Harry also grinned, but then he restrained his smile and showed reluctance, 

"So where are you going next, Professor Watson?" 

"A few days ago, something happened that caused some changes in my body, so I'm planning to rest in a hotel for a few days and get used to these changes. Oh, maybe I should find a place to stay permanently. Living in hotels all the time is not ideal!" 

Hearing this question, Bryan rubbed his brow tiredly, "After that, I plan to look for someone's whereabouts." 

He did not elaborate on who that someone was or why he wanted to find them. He only gave Harry a mysterious smile. After speaking, Bryan waved his hand at Harry who didn't understand what was going on. He turned around and left. His figure soon disappeared at the corner of the road. 

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