Author notes: Hello everybody, welcome to chapter 3 of Curse-Breaker: The Heir of Hogwarts.

Hopefully the last chapter wasn't too confusing. I made sure to provide a few answers in this one while also planting other questions for things I have planned. I know I seem to be updating at lightning speed, but don't get used to it. I'm currently working on Chapter 6 of this story and may still fall into narrative traps that require retroactive changes. I'll try to avoid those to the best of my ability, for I know how frustrating these can be for the reader.

TW: This chapter deals with topics of familial abuse. Nothing too graphic, but reader discretion is advised.

Chapter 3: Without a Trace

Tic, toc, tic, toc

You'd think that's a clock, but rather it was the golden cat of luck statue that sat above our living room fireplace, swinging its paw back and forth like an upright pendulum. It was the only thing we heard as we all sat there, in silence, staring at one another.

On one couch sat the strange cloaked man I'd met earlier and the older lady who was new to me. They both wore a coat of arms badge I couldn't quite read from afar. On the opposite side sat my very concerned parents, mum with her hands over her converged knees while dad had his arms folded and a distrustful frown on his face. I sat uncomfortably on an armchair between the two parties, with two strange fedora men wearing deep blue robes standing guard behind us, putting us all on edge.

None of this made sense. Who are these people? What is their business with me?

"That… is a very fine piece of decoration you have there," Said the cloaked man, his lips pursed in a grin. "Is it a clock of some sort?"

"N-no, it's…" my mother stuttered.

"Maneki-Neko" I answered, shyly.

"What was that?" The man asked for me to speak up.

"Maneki-Neko" I reiterated, this time a little louder. "It's… a Japanese lucky cat statue, also called the beckoning cat. They believe it brings good luck to those who have it."

"Really? How Interesting…" The man slowly nodded, "And do you believe that to be true?"

I hesitated upon hearing that question. Why was he asking? It's not like I ever really thought about it.

"Excuse me, what is this about?" Dad interjected, already impatient.

"Of course, my apologies!" The man quickly cleared his throat to a more professional tone "As I've said, I am Professor Neville Longbottom, and this is Headmistress Minerva McGonagall…"

"What about them?" My father inquired about the two fedora men standing behind us.

"Oh, these are Auror Roland and Commissioner Larkin. They're just here to make sure we're… how do I put it? doing our job properly." Explained Longbottom, though it only served to raise further suspicion.

"We've come to represent a very prestigious school named Hogwarts. A school for… gifted children" Continued Headmistress McGonagall, as Longbottom pointed to his badge.

Hogwarts? As in the letter I just got? A… school?

"Gifted children?" My mother repeated, concerned. "What kind of gifted children?"

"We were hoping you could tell us, Mrs. Edward. Have you ever noticed anything different about your son? Perhaps some special ability he has or something he does that makes him… stand out amongst other children?" Professor Longbottom asked.

"Well, he… he really likes to draw," Mum said, making me slightly embarrassed. "He also does quite well in school, if that's what you're looking for…"

McGonagall and Longbottom exchanged looks.

"Not exactly, I'm afraid," She said. "Have you ever observed some strange event or phenomenon take place around him, something that perhaps you wouldn't know how to explain?

Wait a minute…

"Around him? No, not at all," Mum replied. "He's very well behaved, never does anything out of the ordinary."

They really had no clue of what happened this morning.

"What about you, Carlos, have you yourself ever witnessed something you couldn't quite explain?" Professor Longbottom inched forward towards me, and I knew exactly what he meant. He certainly knew far more than he was letting on, but did he know everything about what happened to me today? As much as I couldn't explain any of it, what did it have to do with me?

My parents looked at me expectantly, and I knew my answer couldn't contradict theirs.

"N-no, I haven't." I lied. Even if the opposite was true, I wasn't about to test the waters. Rather than seeming disappointed by my response, Professor Longbottom simply snorted quietly and sat back straight. After a few moments of silence, he cleared his throat and said:

"Mr. Martin, Mrs. Edward, I understand that all of this might seem rather bewildering and unexpected. But we assure you, we have good reason to believe that your son possesses a unique and extraordinary ability."

"What kind of ability?" My father asked, his voice laced with skepticism.

Headmistress McGonagall leaned forward, her eyes fixed on my parents. "Mr. Martin and Mrs. Edward, what we are about to share with you may seem unbelievable, but I guarantee it is true. We believe that your son possesses the ability to perform… magic."

Wait, what?

Did she just say… Magic?

"Perform what, now?" My father inquired in disbelief.

"Magic, Mr. Martin." Longbottom reiterated, "It is a powerful ability that some children are born with. One that can be harnessed and improved upon… with a proper education."

There was a moment of tense silence before dad sputtered a laugh. "Alright now, is this a joke?"

Longbottom and McGonagall exchanged a glance before the professor spoke again, his voice steady and earnest. "I understand that this may be difficult to believe, Mr. Martin, but magic is indeed real. It's not like the tricks you see on television or illusions. It's a profound and ancient power that exists within certain individuals, including your son."

Mum let out a scoff, now acting just as skeptical as my father. "You'll have to forgive us, but such things simply do not exist. I mean, Magic, of all things?" She uttered in amusement.

McGonagall nodded, her expression compassionate. "It's a rare and wondrous gift, Mrs. Edward. Throughout history, there have been individuals born with an innate ability to manipulate the forces of magic. And Hogwarts is a school dedicated to nurturing and guiding young witches and wizards in harnessing their magical potential."

"Witches and wizards… pfft," My father leaned forward, his eyes fixed on Longbottom. "So, what? You're saying our son can wave a wand and make things disappear?"

Longbottom chuckled softly. "Well, wand-waving is a part of it, but it's much more intricate and complex than that. Magic encompasses a wide range of abilities, from casting spells and brewing potions to charms, transfiguration, and even summoning mythical creatures. It's a vast world waiting to be explored."

I watched my parents' expressions, trying to gauge their reactions. Mum rolled her eyes at the explanation while dad shook his head with a smirk.

"Look," he said, his voice tinged with skepticism, "I'm a man of science. I believe in what I can see, touch, and measure. What you're telling me… that's just fantasy."

Longbottom leaned forward, his tone gentle yet persuasive. "Mr. Martin, science and magic are not mutually exclusive. In fact, they can complement each other. The laws that govern magic may be different, but they are laws nonetheless. At Hogwarts, we teach our students to understand and respect those laws, to harness magic responsibly."

My mother spoke up, her voice hesitant. "Why should we trust what you're saying? For all we know, this could very well be some elaborate prank or scam."

"Of course," Professor Longbottom reached into his cloak and pulled out a wooden wand. "Allow me to demonstrate."

He graciously waved the wand towards some of the logs stored next to our fireplace, releasing a high pitched whisper into the air. The logs then proceeded to levitate and hover into the firebox, igniting on their own. Dad's smirk slowly turned upside down while mum covered her mouth with both hands in shock. McGonagall and Longbottom remained unfazed.

"Whoa…" I let slip. As surprising as this was, it was definitely not the strangest thing I'd witnessed that day.

"As we were saying…" continued McGonagall, "Hogwarts is the place where young witches and wizards go to learn and control their magical abilities, once they are of age. I understand you must not have had the proper time to read the letter that was sent to you..."

"Letter, what letter?" Dad blurted out.

"Uh…" I hesitated, unsure how to tell them. They all stared at me expectantly, "There's this one letter that came to me a few minutes ago… it came from an owl."

"From an owl?" My dad sputtered incredulously.

"Well, that's perfect! We could open it together," Suggested Longbottom. "Where is it, if I may ask?"

"Oh, it's right… um…" I fumbled my jacket's inner pocket only to realize it was empty, "I thought it was here!"

"What?" Dad inquired.

"The letter… I could have sworn I put it in my jacket!"

"Excuse me, do you happen to mean that one over there?" Professor Longbottom pointed over to the fireplace.

And there it was. The letter I'd received moments prior somehow ended up right on top of the fireplace mantel, in front of the lucky cat statue.

"Y-yes, that one… how did it get there?" I asked.

"I don't know, but maybe we should bring it down, shouldn't we? Minerva?" Requested Professor Longbottom.

With that, the Headmistress took a wand from her robes, and with a slow, majestic swing, she pointed it at the cat statue, causing something other-worldly to happen. The statue jumped from the top of the fireplace to our coffee table, taking the shape of an actual, living miniature cat, its golden fur glistening in the fireplace light. Mum whimpered in terror with the sudden jump, my eyes wide as I acknowledged what had just happened. Dad seemed reactionless.

The cat strutted on the coffee table, its tail swishing back and forth, dropping the letter and meowing softly as if to confirm its newfound existence. Mum let out a gasp, covering her mouth again in astonishment.

"Is… is it…?"

"Alive? No, not quite." Explained McGonagall, "It is merely transfigurated, a process in which bodies can assume the shape and properties of others, both living and inanimate. In this case, the initial shape made for a very straightforward transformation."

"Carlos, would you do the honors and read us the letter?" Professor Longbottom requested.

I held my breath for a moment as all attention in the room turned to me. I picked up the letter, trying to steady my trembling hands. Its texture felt strangely smooth, and the Hogwarts seal emblazoned on the front seemed to shimmer in the flickering light of the fireplace. I glanced at my parents, who wore expressions of both curiosity and apprehension. Unfolding the letter, I began to read aloud:

Dear Mr. Edward,

I paused there. I absolutely hated being referred to by my last name, no matter the circumstance. They all stared at me awkwardly so I continued:

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.

Term begins on 1st of September. We await your owl by no later than the 31st of July.

Yours sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall

Headmistress.

I looked up to gauge everyone's reactions. Dad sighed, his skepticism still evident. "Fine, let's say this is all real. What happens next? How do we know this 'Hogwarts' is a reputable institution? What about safety?"

Longbottom leaned forward, his expression earnest. "Mr. Martin, Hogwarts has been a pillar of magical education for centuries. It's a respected institution, with a strong commitment to the safety and well-being of its students. As for your concerns, we can address them in detail, ensuring that Carlos has a safe and supportive environment."

"Here is a pamphlet that addresses the most common questions regarding the school," Said McGonagall, handing over a folded parchment scroll to my father. His frown deepened, but a flicker of doubt passed through his eyes. I could tell that he was slowly considering the possibility, even if he wasn't ready to fully embrace it. He reluctantly unfolded the parchment scroll, his eyes scanning the contents. Meanwhile, my mother continued to watch the miniature cat with a mix of wonder and fear. I could sense her struggle to reconcile the surreal events unfolding in our living room.

"A sport on flying broomsticks, huh?" Dad commented "Can't see what could go wrong in that…"

"It is one of the oldest sports in existence, mr. Martin. I myself have partaken in it, back in my time." McGonagall proudly said.

"Right. This, magical creatures, potion making… what's next, unicorns?" He provoked.

"Mr. Martin, I understand this is difficult to grasp," said Professor Longbottom "The magical world has been kept hidden from non-magical folks for centuries, precisely to avoid unnecessary skepticism. However, it's crucial to recognize that magic is as real as the ground beneath our feet. Hogwarts has successfully educated generations of witches and wizards, providing a safe and nurturing environment."

Dad, still wrestling with doubt, questioned, "So, what's the catch? What's the price we pay for this... education?"

Longbottom leaned back, folding his hands. "The price is simply Carlos's commitment to learning and respecting the magical world. There are no monetary costs, and Hogwarts provides all necessary materials. Your son's magical education will be fully covered by the school. What we seek is his willingness to embrace this new reality."

The air in the room grew heavier as Dad continued reading, his skepticism lingering. Finally, he looked up, his eyes fixed on me.

"Right, say we are to believe in all these… things that just so happen to exist," He questioned "You have yet to prove to us that our son is actually capable of doing any of it."

My blood went cold at this assertion. I didn't know what was coming, but I feared it wasn't going to be good.

"Yes, of course. Luckily, we do have one way to settle this…"

"Mr. Longbottom…" Professor McGonagall interjected, seemingly concerned.

"It's okay, Minerva… I got this." He whispered to her.

He took out of his robe what looked like a small glass ball with a metal ribbon going around it, then showed it to us.

"This right here is something we wizards call a remembrall." He introduced "Originally, it was made as a simple reminder orb that would alert us whenever something was being forgotten… which wasn't really that useful considering you'd hardly remember what it was you forgot. More recent iterations, however, have upgraded it into a tool that allows for exploration of memories in order to retrieve things you've forgotten… or suppressed."

"Suppressed?" I asked.

"Yes… sometimes magical ability can lie dormant within a wizard, and it takes some specific events - or emotions - to trigger the first magical spark. Remembralls can also help manifest this type of magic. Mind if we try something?" Suggested Longbottom, handing me the remembrall orb.

The strange object felt slightly cold to the touch, the faint gray smoke swirling inside of it being rather mesmerizing to look at. All eyes in the room befell me expectantly.

"I now want you to close your eyes and focus on a memory you have, one that has a strong emotion attached to it. Think you can do that?" He requested.

"Any memory?" I asked.

Professor Longbottom looked towards McGonagall, her lips pursed as she held back her breath before nodding ever so slightly to him.

"Yes, any memory whatsoever. Think of how it made you feel, whether it was joy, sadness, anger, fear…" he suggested.

Following his instructions, I closed my eyes and attempted to do what was asked. Given his explanation, I'd expected the glass ball to help me search my thoughts for a significant memory. I didn't, however, notice anything different, my mind still as chaotically vacant of a place as it's always been.

"It's okay, no need to stress your body." Reassured Longbottom, as he likely noticed one of my legs started shaking while I concentrated.

"Sorry…" I muttered.

"No need to apologize," he said, "just keep going."

Let's see… a memory. I kept coming back to the events of earlier this morning, of my breakfast catching fire, cereal turning into bugs, the car engine disappearing. I'd expect these things to start making sense now that magic was revealed to me, but they only raised further questions. Why did they happen to begin with? What - or who - caused them?

"Feeling curious, I see…" I heard Professor Longbottom say.

"Huh?" I quickly opened my eyes, taken aback by the assertion. How did he…?

"The remembrall," he said, "it says you're asking questions."

Upon looking at the orb, I saw the faint smoke was now a strong shade of orange, slowly fading away now that my focus was gone.

"Is… is it supposed to…?" I stuttered.

"Oh, yes yes, that's how it typically works." Answered Longbottom. "It's not what we're looking for, however."

"What are you looking for, exactly?" Dad inquired.

"You see, when a remembrall detects traces of magic within a memory, it starts… doing more than just displaying colors, let's put it that way." he answered vaguely. "You'll see for yourself, soon enough."

"Uh-huh…" Dad skeptically replied.

I went back into concentration and tried fishing out a memory of… well, anything, really. It felt like wading through a foggy stream of thoughts, but no vivid memory emerged. My frustration kept growing, and as seconds turned into minutes, my concentration dispersed, so I opened my eyes to see that the remembrall's smoke had now turned into a strong shade of purple.

"Is this…?" I began.

"No, not quite. Purple indicates frustration." He answered. I sighed in disappointment.

"Is that all there is to it?" Dad challenged "Doesn't look that magical now, does it?"

"Winston!" Mum called out.

The transfigurated cat conveniently started purring right after, reminding us all of the very real magic we had just witnessed.

"What he means to say is, are you sure that our son is actually able to do any of… well, this?" She gestured towards the golden cat.

"Perhaps we should try a different approach." Suggested Longbottom. "Instead of focusing on one particular memory, let your mind wander for a bit. See what it comes up with."

"What do you mean by 'wander'?" I asked.

"I mean it like you were doing just now. You see your emotions show through the remembrall colors, right?" He stated. I nodded "Well then, explore your mind for these sorts of emotions, look for any unresolved feelings you might have. Those will be rooted in a memory you can revisit."

"Right…" I consented. Unresolved feelings? What does that even mean? I don't have any… okay that's a lie, I definitely have unresolved feelings, but they hardly show anytime it is less than inconvenient to remember. Let's see, how am I even feeling today? Hmph…

"Carlos, let your mind guide you. Don't force it." He guided me as I realised my leg had begun shaking once again. I was indeed feeling impatient by then, the glass ball not helping me think one bit.

I closed my eyes once more, focusing on the vague emotional landscape within me. As I went over what happened to me that morning, a flicker of unease caught my attention. The unease I felt when I thought I was being followed, but that wasn't just it. I recalled feeling this same sense of unease the night before, in the dream I had. The details were foggy and scattered, but I do remember the chamber, the statue and… the clock. Was it the same as…? No, it couldn't be.

"It seems we've hit something," Longbottom remarked. "Now, I want you to let that memory fade, but this time, try to summon it back intentionally."

With a half-opened eye I could see there was now a faint glow coming from the orb. I decided to focus on the dream itself, trying to remember what it was I heard the four figures say. Something about an heir, and a… Codex?

"There you go…keep going, you're nearly there!" Urged the professor.

As I focused on the dream, I began to hear a high pitched drone inside my ear. The professor's voice seemed to echo as it became more distant, getting increasingly muffled by the drone. Suddenly, all sounds in my surroundings were muted. I felt an odd warmth in my hand as I held the remembrall, and even through my closed eyelids I could tell it was emitting light.

Then, I saw it again.

An excavation crew came forth into the unmapped chamber as dust from the blast settled. A powerful beam of light was cast to the centre of the room, disturbing the ever-present darkness and at last revealing the details those old walls had long forgotten. A vast domed structure, housing a colossal bronze statue of an ancient sorcerer holding a long piece of parchment on one hand and a miniature castle resting in the palm of the other. In its centre was a sarcophagus, surrounded by celestial floor markings and a lone lectern overlooking the statue.

The crew was satisfied. At last, they'd finally found it.

The Tomb of the Architect.

"Sir!" One crew member called, "We're gonna need more light over here!"

"Can it, Frank!" The crew leader ordered, "A single charm shall do."

The crew carefully descended through a pile of rubble to get to the centre of the chamber. From the ground level, it was far greater in scale than previously thought. The bronze statue towered over the crew as they reached the sarcophagus. Along the walls of the chamber, there were four more statues sculpted out of the cave walls. They depicted a lion, a badger, an eagle and a serpent respectively.

"Incredible…" spoke another crew member, "To think this was here, hidden for a millenium."

"Or maybe it wasn't hidden, we just weren't supposed to be here." The one named Frank said. "Boss did say we could use as many charges as we wanted."

"Maybe. The lack of protective enchantments is odd though…" The other member commented.

"Ah, less work for us. You know the boss ain't gonna get his hands dirty when he's got us to break curses for him." Frank complained.

"Don't let him hear that, that's for sure." Said the member.

"Alright everybody, let's get to work. I want every inch of this place examined," the leader commanded, his voice echoing in the cavernous chamber. The crew dispersed, examining the floor markings and inspecting the intricate details of the statues.

"Boss is gonna be pleased with this," one crew member exclaimed, holding a worn piece of parchment covered in ancient runes.

Frank, always the skeptic, chimed in again, "Pleased or not, I can't shake the feeling that we're meddling with things we shouldn't be."

The crew leader shot him a stern look. "We're here to break curses, not debate ethics. Keep your focus."

The crew leader, a sturdy man with a weathered face, approached the sarcophagus and examined the parchment and the castle held by the ancient sorcerer statue.

"Sir," Frank called again, "we've got strange markings around the lectern. It looks like a clockwork pattern."

The crew gathered around the lectern, and the markings seemed to react to their presence, glowing faintly.

"Captain Thorne, take a look at this," called out one crew member, holding a worn piece of parchment to the crew leader. "It seems to be some sort of ancient blueprint, but the runes are unlike anything I've seen before."

"Take notes, everyone. We need to document every detail for the boss." Said the leader.

As the crew delved deeper into the chamber, their wand lights flickering against the ancient stone walls, the atmosphere grew tense with the weight of discovery. The crew leader, known as Captain Thorne, closely examined the cog markings around the lectern, his brow furrowed in concentration.

"Strange, isn't it?" Frank mumbled, eyeing the glowing patterns.

Captain Thorne nodded, "Indeed. It seems the Architect was quite fond of mechanical displays…"

"The mana detectors are through the roof. I'm surprised there's even breathable air in here." Said Frank, holding a strange device displaying a vibrant blue glow.

"Aren't they like this throughout the whole castle?" Questioned another crew member.

"Not to such extremes, no." Explained Frank."This place is saturated with magical energy."

"Is it, now?" Mused Captain Thorne, "We might just have stumbled upon a remnant of the…"

Suddenly, the ground shook. Dust and pebbles started dropping down from the tall ceiling, and a low hum reverberated through the air. The crew members exchanged bewildered glances.

"Captain, what's happening?" one crew member asked, eyes wide with awe.

Captain Thorne, his gaze fixed on the lectern, spoke with a mix of reverence and uncertainty. "We must have awakened something ancient and powerful. Stay vigilant, everyone. We may be witnesses to magic long forgotten."

As the ground continued to tremble, the crew exchanged nervous glances. Captain Thorne stepped back from the lectern, his eyes scanning the glowing clockwork patterns.

"What did we do, Captain?" Frank's voice quivered with a mix of excitement and fear.

"I don't know, Frank, but whatever it is, it's responding to our presence." Captain Thorne gestured to the glowing runes, now pulsating with a mysterious energy.

The hum in the air intensified, and the celestial floor markings began to glow, forming intricate patterns that seemed to resonate with the magical aura permeating the chamber.

"Look!" exclaimed one crew member, pointing to the bronze statue, whose eyes now glowed with an ethereal golden light, and the parchment and castle in its hands started to shimmer.

"By Merlin's beard," whispered another crew member, "is the Architect waking?"

The crew watched in awe and trepidation as the bronze statue's eyes flickered with life. The parchment in its hand unfolded, revealing ancient runes that shimmered in sync with the floor markings.

"We need to document everything!" Captain Thorne commanded, his authoritative voice cutting through the tension. "Record the changes, take notes on the symbols, and be cautious."

As the crew hurriedly jotted down observations, the low hum evolved into a melodic resonance, echoing through the chamber. The statues on the cave walls seemed to come to life, their eyes gleaming with magical energy.

Frank, still skeptical, muttered, "This is beyond anything we've encountered, Captain."

Captain Thorne nodded, his eyes fixed on the unfolding spectacle. "We may have stumbled upon the heart of the castle's magic — the essence of the Architect's design."

Suddenly, a projection of shimmering light emerged from the lectern, depicting the layout of Hogwarts Castle. The crew members exchanged astonished glances as the magical blueprint unfolded before them.

"We're witnessing the creation of Hogwarts," Captain Thorne declared, his voice filled with awe.

As the magical resonance reached its peak, the crew felt a surge of energy. The air crackled with magic, and the symbols on the floor glowed with an intensity that matched the mana detectors that now flickered wildly.

"Get ready for anything!" Captain Thorne shouted, as the atmosphere in the Tomb of the Architect became charged with ancient power, echoing the birth of Hogwarts itself.

Suddenly, a powerful surge of energy emanated from the sarcophagus, and the bronze statue's eyes blazed with a brilliant light. The parchment and castle in its hands resonated with the magical aura, and the hum in the air intensified.

"Captain, something's happening!" shouted Frank, his skepticism replaced with a wide-eyed astonishment.

Captain Thorne, sensing the impending magical climax, barked orders, "Hold your ground, everyone! Document every detail."

The statues on the walls began to radiate with magical energy, their eyes gleaming in response to the awakening power. The crew members exchanged nervous glances, uncertain of what lay ahead.

"Brace yourselves!" Captain Thorne warned, raising his voice over the magical symphony filling the chamber.

The crew members tightened their grips on their wands, ready for whatever might transpire. The atmosphere became charged with anticipation, the air becoming increasingly harder to breathe.

And then, silence.

The crew stood still, their eyes perked at anything and everything around them. All lights slowly faded out, including the charm that had been hovering above the chamber throughout this whole ordeal. Darkness befell the chamber, the only light source being the crew's wands.

"Something's not right…" whispered Frank.

And so, water started pouring out of the mouths of the four statues, forming a cascading curtain that gradually filled the chamber. Captain Thorne, his eyes wide with surprise, barked urgent commands to his crew.

"Back to higher ground! Move, move!" he ordered, his authoritative voice cutting through the ever growing sound of water flow.

"Carlos…?"

The crew members hastily retreated, their footsteps now dampened by the cascading sound as they climbed the rubble caused by their reckless destruction.

"Carlos…!"

They began slipping on the debris as water reached their ankles. The passage they had opened was gradually sealing shut as the weakened walls began collapsing around it.

"CARLOS MARTIN EDWARD, YOU STOP THIS NONSENSE RIGHT NOW!"

My father's dreadful brassy voice made me open my eyes once more as I fell out of what seemed like a trance, my hand now burning hot due to the remembrall heating up, causing me to immediately drop it. Confusion lingered in the air as I tried to reconcile what I had just witnessed with the reality of my parents, Professor Longbottom, and Headmistress McGonagall staring at me.

Mum was weeping.

"Carlos, are you alright?" Professor Longbottom's concerned voice cut through the remnants of the experience I just had.

I didn't immediately respond as I was still taking in my surroundings. The room looked like it'd been turned upside down; paintings were misplaced, things were broken on the floor, the lights were flickering and there seemed to be a lingering black smoke. Both Commissioner Larkin and Auror Roland had their wands firmly pointed at me.

"What happened here? Why is everyone looking at me like this?" I asked.

"We thought we had lost you there for a second." Said Longbottom.

"Lost me?" I repeated, unaware that it was even a possibility.

I glanced at the Remembrall on the floor, pitch black smoke now swirling within it. The once gentle tool for exploring memories now felt ominous and tainted.

"Did I... did I do something wrong?" I asked, my voice uncertain.

"N-no, Mr. Edward," reassured McGonagall, though her expression still indicated a disturbance. "What you experienced was… a powerful magical connection to a memory. Yes, it seems the intensity overwhelmed you for a moment."

My father's brassy voice returned, his concern veiled by frustration. "Magic or not, we can't have you losing yourself like that. It's not natural!"

"I… I didn't mean for any of this to happen," I stuttered, trying to make sense of the situation.

Professor Longbottom crouched down, picking up the Remembrall with caution. The black smoke within it seemed to resist his touch, swirling more fiercely. "This is… quite unusual. The Remembrall isn't meant to react this way. It's like the… connection… to your memory triggered a magical energy surge."

The commissioner and the auror exchanged a glance, clearly on edge. "We warned you about the risks, Longbottom!" one of them uttered with a stern look.

"Risks? What risks?" I demanded, my frustration mounting.

"That's enough!" My father ordered. "I don't know what the hell just happened here, but I want nothing to do with it. You must leave now."

"Sir, with all due respect-" began the Professor.

"No, no respect taken. You came into my house and showed us all these fancy tricks so you could take my son out to some place I've never even heard of before. We are not interested!" Dad cut him off.

I could feel the tension escalating, my father's frustration mixing with my own confusion. The Remembrall in Professor Longbottom's hands continued to resist, its dark smoke forming eerie patterns.

"Dad, please, just… just let them explain," I pleaded, my voice tinged with desperation.

"I've had enough of these explanations," he snapped. "I won't let some magic nonsense endanger my family. You need to leave, all of you."

The two men in fedoras exchanged glances, and one of them sighed, as if expecting this outcome. Professor Longbottom took a deep breath, his expression a mix of disappointment and understanding.

"Mr. Martin, I understand your concern, but we cannot neglect Carlos' magical potential. It could come at a very high cost should it be left untapped!" Headmistress McGonagall explained, her tone calm yet determined.

"We don't want your help, and we certainly don't want our son involved in whatever voodoo rituals you're talking about," Dad retorted.

My mother, still teary-eyed, attempted to mediate. "Winston, maybe we should hear what they have to say, our son might be in danger…"

"No, Mary!" Dad snapped. "I won't have our lives turned upside down because of some... some fantasy!"

The tension in the room thickened, and I felt caught in the middle, torn between my family and this magical revelation. The Remembrall in Professor Longbottom's hands seemed to pulse with an unsettling energy, reacting to the emotional turmoil in the room.

"Perhaps it's best if we leave for now," suggested McGonagall, her gaze sympathetic. "Mr. Martin, Ms. Edward, we can continue this conversation at a later date."

As she got up she took out her wand and, with a slow horizontal arc, things in the room started falling back into place. Broken glasses reassembled themselves, the torn wallpapers were mended, paintings returned to place and the golden cat of luck returned to its inanimate state on top of the fireplace.

I clenched my fists, feeling the weight of conflicting emotions. "Dad, please, just hear them out. Don't you want to understand what you just saw?"

"They've explained enough, and I've seen more than I ever wanted to. This magic stuff, it's not for us," Dad insisted, his voice resolute.

Commissioner Larkin and Auror Roland remained silent observers, their wands still at the ready.

"Carlos, I understand your curiosity, but your safety and the safety of your family must come first," Professor Longbottom spoke with a sincerity that resonated with my confusion.

Dad scoffed, "Safety? This whole magical nonsense just put our safety at risk. I won't allow it!"

My mother's voice wavered as she spoke, "Winston, we can't dismiss something this serious. If what they're saying is true..."

"You know what's true? It's true that our lives were perfectly fine before this magical circus showed up at our doorstep," Dad argued, frustration etched across his face.

I struggled to find the right words, torn between this newfound awareness of… magic and what not and my desire to make the tension in the room go away.

"I just… don't wanna hurt anyone," I insisted.

The two men in fedoras exchanged glances again, and one of them stepped towards Professor Longbottom. "We warned you this could happen, kid. This ain't some toy to be played around with." He said, taking the remembrall off his hands. The other man came close to them and whispered something only they could hear.

"No! No, don't!" Pleaded Professor Longbottom. "Let them sit on it for a few days. They need to think this through."

They both cast me a stern glance before one of them said "If something happens, you'll be held responsible."

"We apologize for whatever discomfort we caused. This shall not repeat itself." Spoke McGonagall as she walked towards the front door.

"Oh it sure won't!" Dad retorted as they walked out.

Larkin and Roland were the first to walk out the door. Dad stood beside it menacingly, as if to make sure none of them would attempt anything as they left. Professor Longbottom winked at me as he left, which thankfully my father did not notice. After they were all gone, Dad locked the front door then turned towards me. He marched my way and held a firm grip on my upper arm.

"ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR GODDAMN MIND?!" He shouted, mere inches from my face "What made you even THINK it was a good idea to play around with that thing? Do you have any IDEA of what was happening while you were out of it?"

"Dad, I-"

"Your mother and I thought you were gone for good! Just because a stranger comes into our home and gives you a tricky glass ball, it doesn't mean you should bloody take it!"

"I didn't know, Dad! I… I didn't know it would do that," I stammered, my heart pounding with guilt and fear under his intense gaze.

"You didn't know? You didn't know? That's not good enough, Carlos!" His grip tightened on my arm, and I winced in pain. "You knew damn well to not mess around with something you don't understand, you could have been possessed!"

"Dad, please, I didn't mean for any of this to happen. They said it was just a way to explore memories, not—"

"Explore memories? Is that what they told you?!" His voice was a dangerous growl. "Carlos, magic or no magic, you need to use your head. You've put our entire family at risk with this reckless curiosity!"

My mother, still tearful, attempted to intervene. "Winston, let's not make things worse. We need to talk about this calmly."

"Calmly?" He shot her a frustrated look. "Mary, our son just unleashed god knows what in our living room, and you want to talk calmly?"

He turned his attention back to me, his eyes drilling into mine. "You need to understand the consequences of your actions, Carlos. This isn't some game!"

"I thought it was harmless! I thought it would help me understand what's been happening to me," I tried to explain, my words shaky.

"Harmless? Look around you, Carlos! Look at what just happened! We have strange people barging into our house, magical smoke, our living room's a mess and who knows what else. This is not harmless!" His frustration boiled over, and he released his grip on my arm, stepping back but still seething with anger.

"Dad, please, I can explain. They said that-" I pleaded, looking for some understanding in his eyes.

"Forget what they said, Carlos! This is not our world. We're not wizards, and we don't want to be a part of this," he cut me off, his face hardened with resolve.

"But what if it's true? What if this is who I am?" I spoke amidst tears.

"Enough backtalk!" His eyes bore into mine, and he pointed sternly to my room. "You're grounded now, young man. Go to your room, and don't come out until you understand the consequences of your actions!"

"Dad, no, please, I- OOF!"

His hand swung across my face like a whip, knocking me off balance for a moment. My cheek burned with both pain and shame.

"Do NOT make me repeat myself!" He hissed through his teeth. "Go to your bloody room and stay there!"

He drilled deep into my eyes as he said this. Not an ounce of remorse or uncertainty in his tone.

I was finished.

I covered my face and retreated to my room, the weight of my father's disappointment heavy on my shoulders. The door slammed shut behind me, amplifying the isolation. I sank onto my bed, the events of the evening replaying in my mind like a chaotic loop. I tried really hard not to ugly cry, so hard my head felt like it would explode in a migraine. I couldn't grasp how things turned so foul so quickly, let alone why Dad was so angry at me for what happened. Was I really responsible?

Over the next few minutes I kept hearing the two of them argue downstairs. Even when I wasn't present, I seemed to still be making things worse for them. I huddled on my bed, the sting on my cheek a painful reminder of the reality that unfolded in my living room. The muffled arguments downstairs echoed through my closed door, a discordant symphony of frustration, fear, and anger. I felt like an intruder in my own home, an unwelcome element that had disrupted the normalcy my family once knew.

Eventually the argument died down, and so did my spirit. Night befell, and I heard my brother arrive from his school. It was rather late for him, but I didn't bother to know why. I kept thinking of how lucky he was to have missed the whole ordeal. I just hid in the darkness, feeling like the worst was somehow yet to come. What even are going to be the next few days after this, let alone months? I can't unsee everything I saw downstairs, and neither can my parents. Even if we were to act like it never happened, they'd still know something about me that not even I was aware of. Things just wouldn't be the same, regardless of intent.

I couldn't tell the passage of time as I lay in bed. The minutes felt like hours that wouldn't pass. All I wanted was for time to pass for the sake of it, or until I fell asleep. I hoped that sleeping would not put me in any more trouble than I already was. I was nearly dozing off when a tapping sound coming from my window disturbed me. A rather familiar tapping sound.

I got up and opened the blinds to see none other than Trevor tapping its beak on my window. Mind you, my very much still cracked window from earlier that day.

"Ugh, you again. What do you want?" I groaned as if I didn't know the obvious answer. The bird carried what I thought was yet another letter for me, probably one saying I got rejected by that school of theirs. I decided to cut my misery short and open the window to get the letter, something the owl did not protest to. The letter, however, happened to be a simple folded paper piece with no identification details. Upon unfolding it, there was a simple message written inside:

Meet me at the place where we first met.

Professor L.

I sighed deeply, wondering what it was that Longbottom still wanted from me. Getting me into trouble wasn't enough, apparently. What did he even mean by the place where we met? The field where that tree swung me to the ground? When did he want to see me, now or later?"

I hesitated for a moment, glancing back at the closed bedroom door, still wary of any repercussions from my earlier actions. The night outside was shrouded in darkness, the quiet hum of the suburban neighborhood a stark contrast to the chaos that had unfolded in my home. With a resigned sigh, I decided to heed the professor's summons. Maybe he held answers, or perhaps this was just another layer to the magical mess I found myself entangled in.

I waited until about 10 pm to slip out of my room, when I knew my parents would be asleep. Trevor waited patiently perched on my window sill, its feathers ruffled by the night breeze. The neighborhood slept soundly, oblivious to the magical undercurrents that had disrupted the tranquility of my home. I carefully unlocked the front door and stepped outside to an evening chill, the only thing lighting my way being the street lights. As soon as I left, Trevor took flight in the direction I was meant to go.

And so I followed.

For a summer night, today was rather chilly outside. Good thing I was still in my school clothes, the same ones Professor Longbottom had magically tidied up after the whole tree rodeo. I wasn't sure if I should retrace my steps or focus on the flying owl for directions to the meeting spot. Thankfully the bird stopped every few meters so I was able to catch up at walking speed. Going down the wooded path from earlier that morning, there were no signs of the sinkhole that had opened beneath my feet. At that point, I was no longer fazed. The existence of magic made this incongruence now quite believable.

The bird then took a detour from the path to a curved road that went opposite to my school. I was confused for a second, but realized that was a shortcut to that field. Upon arrival, I noticed the odd swinging tree was gone as well. No sign that it was ever there to begin with. I walked roughly to the spot where I thought the tree previously was, and stood still for a few moments, unaware of what to do next.

"A little late for you to be out and about, don't you think?" I heard a familiar voice come from behind me. I turned around to see Professor Longbottom's dimly lit silhouette slowly walking my way, the only source of light being the tip of his wand.

"You called me here, didn't you?" I pointed out.

"Didn't think you'd come at this hour, though." He said.

"You didn't specify." I said.

"Touché." He replied. "So, how are things after we left?"

"I got grounded…" I muttered.

"Ah. Yeah, I figured this would happen." He commented. I shot him an indignant look.

"What do you want now?" I mumbled.

"To tell you the truth." He uttered. "The whole truth, that is."

"You mean there's more you haven't told us?" I asked.

"Far more, indeed," He nodded. "But I first believe you might have some questions of your own you'd like to ask. I'm opening this space for you to do so."

"Hum… okay?" I muttered, unaware of what to ask first. I did have a lot of questions, but few were coming to me at that moment. In order to start somewhere, I chose to ask what was last in my mind. "Why did you call me all the way here at this hour? Couldn't we have met back at my house?"

"By all means, no." He said. "I called you here because I wanted a place where we could talk freely without any unwanted eyes or ears dropping in."

"Well, we're alone, in the middle of nowhere at night time… you could kidnap me if you wanted to." I pointed out the obvious danger.

Professor Longbottom chuckled, "Kidnap you? Not exactly the best way to gain a student's trust, now is it?"

"I don't even know if you're actually the teacher you claim to be." I accused.

"Should you come to Hogwarts, you'll have the pleasure of being one of my students." He spoke with a proud smirk.

"Right…" I muttered. "About the things that happened to me earlier today… what were those about? Did I cause them?"

"Oh no, it wasn't you," he responded. "Those were obstacles that were deliberately put in your way as a test. It is common knowledge amongst wizards that magic often manifests in situations of danger or distress. The test was meant to induce you into such states."

"Danger? So I could've been killed by all those things?"

"Not under my watch, no." He shook his head. "I did save you from that Whomping Willow, didn't I?"

"Whomping Willow? Is that what that tree's called?" I commented "So you did know of everything that happened to me this morning, huh. Why did my parents not remember any of it?"

"Their memories were altered as to avoid unnecessary questioning before it was time for our visit. We take the secrecy of our world very seriously." He answered.

"Altered? What else did they forget?" I asked in a mild panic.

"Just this morning's events, don't worry about it!" He reassured me. I looked at him suspiciously. "We are very careful when it comes to memory manipulation. No damage was caused, I promise you that."

"When you say 'we'... to whom exactly are you referring?" I pressed further.

"I mean 'we' as in The Ministry of Magic, our governing body. It takes care of all matters related to magic use in Great Britain and the United Kingdom." He answered.

"A Ministry of Magic? Like, part of the government?" I asked.

"...Not exactly." He corrected me. "The wizarding world has its own set of institutions separate from those of the non-magical world."

"When you say wizarding world… do you mean to say there's an entire dimension separate to that of the rest of us?" I mused.

"Oh no, by all means, not at all!" He chuckled. "It's very much in the physical world, just hidden in plain sight. We do our best to maintain illusions but you'll always find us if you know where to look."

"Right…" I muttered, trying to wrap my head around the information. "So, let me get this straight, there's a whole world of magic, with wizards and witches, right under the noses of regular people?"

"Exactly. And it's not the only one. Magical communities exist worldwide, each with its own set of rules and institutions," Professor Longbottom explained.

I took a moment to absorb this revelation. The idea of a hidden magical world sounded so daunting. "So, all those stories about witches and wizards, are they real?"

He nodded. "More real than you could imagine. And you, Carlos, seem to have a connection to that world."

"But I'm not a wizard," I protested. "I can't be. My parents aren't, and I don't know anything about magic."

"That's what Hogwarts is for!" He proudly announced. "Every time a young wizard reaches the age of eleven, they recieve a letter inviting them to study at Hogwarts. Or, in cases of non-magical families, a personal visit also takes place."

"But why me?" I finally voiced the question that had been nagging at me. "Why would I have any connection to this magical world?"

The professor's expression shifted to one of understanding. "Magic is a mysterious force, Carlos. It often chooses those with potential, regardless of their family background. Some individuals are born with an innate connection to magic, and it manifests itself in unique ways."

"I see…" I looked at him worryingly, still unsure of what any of it meant. "What happened back at my house today? Why did I destroy my living room?"

"See, that's the complicated part… it might not have been you, exactly." He began, pacing back and forth. "It seems your magical ability has been caged for so long, it began… taking a shape of its own, let's put it that way."

"Caged? But why?" I asked.

"I was hoping you could tell me. Has there been any moment in your life you felt so scared of what others thought of you, that you saw no other solution but to retract?" He questioned.

"I don't know, I…" I thought about it for a bit, unsure if any life experience of mine checked that criteria. I definitely was scared of what others thought of me, but was it to such an extent all magic within me would be caged?

"It's important to understand the reasoning behind that so you can liberate the magic flow within you. The sooner you figure it out, the better." He assured me. I began thinking of how many therapy sessions that would entail.

"What if I fail to 'liberate' it? What would happen to me?" I asked.

Professor Longbottom pursed his lips at that question, hesitant. "Look, I really don't want to scare you, but-"

"You're already scaring me." I pointed out. He let out a sigh.

"Magic is a very powerful force. If left unbalanced within an individual, it could start manifesting itself in the shape of something called an Obscurus." He explained, pacing once more.

"What's an Obscurus?" I pressed.

"An Obscurus is a parasitic entity that grows upon those who suppress their magical capabilities from a young age, usually due to trauma or abuse." He clarified. "Now I don't mean to make any assumptions, but I- or rather, we- believe that you could be in the early stages of developing one."

"What does it mean to be in an early stage of an Obscurus?"

"It means that, if your magic doesn't find a release within the next few years, the entity will start growing within you and… taking control."

I stared at Professor Longbottom, a knot tightening in my stomach. "Taking control? Like possession?"

"Yes… and no. You see, it's complicated," he admitted. "Obscuruses are chaotic entities. The outcome of one isn't always predictable. Often times it… kills its host, dying subsequently."

I looked at him in astonishment.

"... Other times, however, it can become… more powerful than its host. From there, little is known of what it's truly capable of."

"So… I could die…" I muttered, failing to grasp the severity of what I was being told. "What happened in my living room today - was that an Obscurus?"

"We're not sure." Said Longbottom, shaking his head. "Those men that stood behind us were there to contain it should it manifest itself. It's crucial, however, to understand that it's not your fault. An Obscurus forms as a defense mechanism when magical ability is forcibly suppressed."

I stood there, absorbing the weight of Professor Longbottom's words. The revelation about potential dangers, the mysterious Obscurus, and the uncertainty about my magical abilities left me with a myriad of emotions. "So, you're telling me I'm a ticking time bomb now?" I asked, my voice wavering between disbelief and fear.

Professor Longbottom nodded solemnly. "I know it sounds daunting, Carlos, but understanding your magical nature is essential. What we're offering is to guide and help you through this."

"But why?" I inquired. "Why are you interested in helping me to begin with?"

"Because…" he sighed, seemingly unsure of what to say "Because… an Obscurus is a destructive force that's extremely hard to contain. Should it be released out there, it would not only put other people in danger but also… compromise the secrecy of the magical world."

I frowned, still grappling with the enormity of the situation. "And what about my family? Are they in danger because of me?"

Professor Longbottom looked earnest, "We're here to protect both the magical and non-magical worlds. The steps we take will ensure their safety, but you must cooperate."

It was a lot to take in, and I couldn't shake the feeling of being caught in a web of magical complications beyond my understanding. "How do I even know you're not just manipulating me for some magical agenda?"

He met my gaze with a serious expression, "Trust needs to be earned, Carlos. I understand your skepticism, but I assure you, we're not your enemies."

I sighed, unsure of how to proceed. "So, what's the plan now? Am I supposed to go to this Hogwarts place?"

Professor Longbottom nodded, "Yes, attending Hogwarts is the first step. There, you'll receive guidance, and we can monitor and help you control your magical abilities."

"But what about this Obscurus thing? How do I stop it from taking over?" I asked, the fear of the unknown still lingering.

The professor hesitated, choosing his words carefully. "Understanding the root of your suppression is crucial. It often involves confronting past experiences. We have experts at Hogwarts who can assist you."

I sighed.

"You saw how my father reacted today. How am I supposed to tell him all this?"

"Leave that to us. We can relay all this information for them, given proper timing." He assured me. "What we need you to do now, is to convince your father that it is essential for you to come to Hogwarts."

A mild look of desperation formed in my face. Convincing my father of anything was never an easy task. I took a deep breath, grappling with the weight of the situation. "How am I gonna make him understand all of this?" I questioned Professor Longbottom, my voice tinged with uncertainty.

The professor offered a reassuring nod. "It won't be easy, Carlos, but it's crucial. Your safety, as well as the safety of those around you, depends on it. We'll provide all the necessary information for your family, but your genuine conviction is what matters most."

"But why me? Why do I have to carry this burden?" I couldn't help but express my frustration. "I never asked for any of this, and now I'm supposed to convince my family that magic is real, Hogwarts exists, and I'm in danger of turning into some magical parasite?"

"Sometimes, fate thrusts responsibilities upon us, and we must face them," Professor Longbottom explained, his gaze unwavering. "You're not alone on this journey. We'll guide you every step of the way. It's about unlocking your potential, understanding your magic, and ensuring the safety of both worlds."

I sighed, resigned to the fact that my life had taken a turn I couldn't have anticipated. "Fine. I'll try. But what happens if I fail?"

"You won't fail, trust me." He held my shoulder earnestly. "In any case, we'll be there should you need any help. Is that alright?"

I nodded.

"Right. Let's get you home, shall we?" He offered.

We left the field quietly as the crickets chirped away through the night. Upon reaching the wooded path back to my house, the silence of our walk became unbearably awkward, so I decided to ask one final question.

"How did you guys find me, anyway?" I inquired.

"Through the Trace, of course!" He exclaimed.

"The Trace? What's that?"

"The Trace is the system that allows the ministry to keep tabs on underage wizards and witches and catalog magical occurrences around them." He promptly explained.

"Wait, you guys spy on underage wizards?" I questioned rather indignantly.

"Oh no, not like that." He addressed. "It simply detects magical phenomena around a young wizard and tries to pinpoint who's responsible for it. That's as far as it goes."

"I see… but wait a minute," I stopped in my tracks. "I thought I had never displayed magic before today… how did your system find me then?"

"According to it, you did display magic yesterday." He uttered.

"Yesterday?" I asked as I resumed walking "But nothing unusual happened yesterday!"

"Are you sure of that? The system indicated a pretty significant magical manifestation." He explained.

"But… how? Yesterday was my birthday, and that's about as different as it got…!"

"Was it now?" The Professor stopped walking for a moment. "Should have gotten you a present then."

"I'm serious. Nothing happened yesterday. Your system must be wrong." I implied.

"That's hardly the case." Longbottom disagreed. "The Trace has gone through numerous upgrades over the years, it's more reliable now than it's ever been."

"If you say so…"

We continued walking in silence for some more time, the night breeze blowing through his robes and my jacket, giving me a slight chill. Professor Longbottom then added:

"I was kinda like you, you know?" He said. "As in, nobody knew whether I was magical or not."

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"As with most wizard families, mine always expected the offspring to inherit magic." He explained, "Often times it was a given, but in my case it took many years - and frankly, a lot of trauma - for them to finally realise I was magical."

I got curious at his assertion, "What did they do?"

"Well, they did try drowning me once…" he began. I looked at him dumbfounded, "but confirmation came when my Great-Uncle was holding me outside a window and 'accidentally' dropped me. Instead of hitting the ground, I bounced like a ball. A miracle in every sense of the word."

"They dropped you out of a window?" I repeated, flabbergasted.

"Like I said, magic tends to manifest in moments of danger or distress… my family simply chose to take that to its limit." He said as we arrived in Liddell Way, "Think you can take it from here?"

"Um, yeah, I can make it home…. Thanks for accompanying me, I suppose." I awkwardly thanked him, still horrified at his personal story.

"No need to thank me, take care of yourself!" He waved me goodbye. "And remember our agreement regarding the school."

"Right… have to figure that one out. Good night, I guess." I proceeded to part ways.

"Oh, Carlos, one more thing!" He asked me to stop, so I turned around to see him. "While you were holding the remembrall… what is it exactly that you saw?"

"Ah, it's… uh…" I hesitated. "... Not important, really."

Longbottom looked at me expectantly for a moment before saying. "Alright then. Good night to you."

And so I left him to walk towards my house, hoping my little escapade went unnoticed. Part of me still couldn't believe I left the house late at night to talk to a stranger in the middle of nowhere. Dad would kill me twice if he ever found out about this.

Upon reaching my bed, I kept thinking of ways to approach the Hogwarts conversation with him. I obviously couldn't do it while he was mad, so I'd have to wait a few days… or at least until I wasn't grounded anymore. Part of me regretted not telling Professor Longbottom about the strange dream I had and my vision on the remembrall, but I wouldn't know how to make sense of it.

Speaking of the dream, though…

I got up from bed and turned my table light on. Upon digging through my wardrobe, I retrieved my grandfather's book I had hidden in a panic hours earlier. The book was magical, I could tell that much, but what was it, really? How did my grandfather end up with it?

Was he also… a wizard?

I placed it upon my desk and flipped it open. As soon as I did, a message was displayed in one of the pages.

Welcome, Carlos.

I should not have been as surprised as I was to see it remembered me. Right underneath that, another message appeared.

Establishing connection to the Codex.

Awaiting response…

Codex? I remember hearing that world not long before I woke up. But why was it in my dream? And what did it have to do with the creation of Hogwarts? What was the Tomb of the Architect?"

A new message then appeared.

Connection to Codex failed.

What? What did it mean by that?

"Um… try again?" I muttered, hoping it was loud enough for the book to capture.

A previous message appeared.

Establishing connection to the Codex.

Awaiting response…

…

Connection to Codex failed.

I sighed. Whatever it was trying to do, it wasn't working. I closed the book in defeat. Unsure of what to do next. Even knowing everything I did now, I still felt more confused than ever. Why was all this happening to me? How am I gonna deal with it?

And what on earth is this Codex thing?

Author notes: Thanks for reading. Be sure to leave a comment!