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

Please don't be mad at me, but after this chapter the upload rate might slow down considerably given I'm still in the process of writing chapter 6 and I also now have a job to tend to. So yeah, adult life aside, my inspiration is still going strong. I would not be posting this story if I wasn't confident of where it's headed.

Anyway, wihout further ado, here's chapter 5. Enjoy!

Chapter 5: A Brave New World

The days stretched out like endless corridors, each step carrying the weight of my decision. Things at home just weren't the same, they couldn't be. An unspoken tension hung in the air, altering the dynamics that once felt familiar. The atmosphere was different, and so were the looks my family exchanged. But the real struggle was trying to balance my normal school responsibilities with the impending shift to the magical world. Coming back from Easter Break, homework and exams became a relentless challenge as my mind frequently drifted to the unknown path that lay ahead.

The now bewitched golden cat statue from the living room strutted around the house, like a toddler first exploring the world around them. Mum absolutely hated it, and would recurrently curse McGonagall for giving it life, or whatever this was. I kinda liked it though.

I named it Auric.

One evening, as I tried to focus on my maths homework, J walked into my room, wearing a thoughtful expression. "Hey, little wizard-to-be, struggling with non-magical equations?"

I snorted, grateful for the break from the monotony of numbers. "It's just hard to concentrate when there's so much up ahead waiting for me."

J sat on the edge of my bed, looking at me with a mix of understanding and curiosity. "I get it. But you can't let your regular studies slide. Hogwarts might teach you magical stuff, but you'll still need the basics."

"Yeah, I know," I sighed, glancing at the stack of textbooks that seemed to mock me.

"Look, I'm not the study guru, but maybe I can help with something. What's the most challenging part?" J offered, genuinely trying to assist.

I considered his offer, realising that the real challenge wasn't the subject matter but the constant distraction. "It's not the maths or the history; it's the fact that I'll be leaving this life behind a couple months from now. It's hard to focus."

J nodded, acknowledging the emotional turmoil. "It's okay, Carlos. Hogwarts will be there, but so will this world. You're not leaving everything behind; you're just expanding your horizons."

"There's only so much horizon one can see at once…" I responded, unsure of what I truly meant by that.

J leaned back, a thoughtful expression on his face. "True, but sometimes you need to step into the unknown to discover new horizons. Hogwarts could be that uncharted territory for you, a place where you find out more about yourself."

I sighed, closing my maths book and leaning back on my chair. "I just wish everything could stay the same. No magic, no Hogwarts, just a normal life."

He chuckled, "Normal is overrated, little brother. Besides, who defines what's normal anyway? Life throws curveballs, and Hogwarts might just be the curveball you didn't know you needed."

I shrunk in my seat after a damning thought, "What if I fail at it? Magic, I mean…"

J leaned forward, his expression now more serious. "Failure is a part of learning, Carlos. You might not get everything right at first, but that doesn't mean you're a failure. Hogwarts is there to teach and guide you. You'll have professors, friends, and a whole community to support you."

I sighed, the weight of uncertainty settling on my shoulders. "What if my magical abilities are too much to handle? What if I end up hurting someone?"

J placed a reassuring hand on my shoulder. "You've got to trust yourself, Carlos. And trust that the people at Hogwarts know what they're doing. They wouldn't accept you if they didn't believe you could learn and control your magic. It's a journey, and you won't be alone."

His words resonated with a mix of comfort and challenge. "I just wish Dad could see it that way. He's worried about losing me, about things changing too much."

"Change is scary, especially the unknown kind," J acknowledged. "But sometimes, change is what helps us grow. Your life might take a different path, but it doesn't mean you're leaving everything behind. You'll always be a part of this family, Hogwarts or no Hogwarts."

I appreciated J's attempt to ease my concerns. "What about Mum and Dad? They've been acting differently since the wizards visited."

"It's a big adjustment for them too, Carlos. Imagine finding out that magic is real and your son is a wizard. They'll come around; they just need time to process everything. You should talk to them, share your feelings. It might help."

"I guess so…" I looked down, dreading having to start yet another conversation with them about this matter.

Auric, the cat statue, chose that moment to stroll into my room, its magical movements resembling a feline dance. J grinned, pointing at it, "At least you've got a magical companion to keep you company in the meantime."

I chuckled, appreciating the distraction. "Yeah, Auric seems to enjoy causing chaos. Maybe he's practising some magical mischief from McGonagall."

J laughed, and for a moment, the weight of my upcoming journey seemed lighter. As he left my room though, I couldn't shake the unease about the impending changes. The magical world awaited, and my family stood at the crossroads of acceptance and uncertainty. I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath, trying to find the courage to face the challenges that lay ahead.

The days then turned into weeks, with periodic check-ins by the ministry folk and the occasional letter from Professor Longbottom asking how I'm doing. Although I didn't need to respond, I started making it a habit of returning the letters Trevor brought me, even though I never felt entirely honest in how I expressed myself within them. It always seemed like I was neglecting something, something vital.

In my downtime, however, I'd explore the Grimoire. As soon as I felt tired of exploring the history of Hogwarts, I decided to delve a bit into that of the Wizarding World itself. As I expected, it was… complicated. Not only because it was deeply intertwined with non-magical historical events, but also because it featured many dubious figures whose legacies resulted in widespread devastation, such as that of Salazar Slytherin himself. The Grimoire, thankfully, did not shy away from laying his views on blood purity bare for me to judge.

Witch hunts and magical creature rebellions aside, my main interest circled around recent historical events, as I was interested to see how it connected to our world. Frankly, I was rather disappointed to see just how little overlap between muggle and wizard technology there was. Inventions such as electricity, electronics and digital media were seemingly incompatible with magic as a whole. It seemed the wizarding world had forged its own path, detached from the rapid advancements of the non-magical realm.

I delved deeper into the recent magical past, tracing the aftermath of the Second Wizarding War and Voldemort's rise to power. The narratives were both enlightening and unsettling. The sacrifices made by wizards and witches in the fight against darkness echoed through the pages, yet the scars of war lingered, etched into the collective memory of the magical community. Names such as that of Harry Potter were mentioned frequently throughout the pages, as he was apparently the "Chosen one", whatever that means.

All this exploration led me to discover even more functionalities within the book. Apparently, by pressing on terms or concepts that confused me, such as that of a "muggle", the book would then redirect me to a text that explained that concept in detail, followed by its origins and referenced content. It was almost like a hyperlink. Furthermore, pictures started appearing in the book… moving pictures! Whether they were paintings, engravings or photographs, almost all of them had some sort of animation within.

Days and Nights would pass and I would find myself returning to the same paragraphs, over and over again, as if I expected something to change. At times, I would get so caught up in my own inspiration that I'd stop reading, walk around my room and repeat some excerpts to myself, as if to let them sink in. It almost seemed like I was avoiding or even running away from the book, but it was a rather usual occurrence for me. Sometimes I just need to zone out and process what I read.

J was the only one with whom I'd talk to about these things, as he seemed to be the only one who had a tad bit of interest in them. Mum and Dad, on the other hand, were always so caught up in work or daily life that they'd never absorb even basic information. In truth, I think they were avoiding the topic of magic as much as possible. Eventually, I decided not to bother them with it.

As my finals approached, I struggled to divert my attention from the captivating tales within the Grimoire. The mundane subjects felt like distant echoes compared to the magical symphony beckoning me. The consequence of my divided focus manifested in my academic performance – the marks that once reflected diligence now bore the imprint of magical distraction. Thankfully though, it wasn't enough to alert my parents that something was going on, so my distraction went under the radar.

The regular check-ins from the Ministry and Professor Longbottom continued, providing a recurring reminder of the magical world awaiting me. Eventually, amidst summer holidays, a new letter was sent to me with an invitation to a place called…

"Diagon Alley, is it?" Dad questioned, scanning the letter with his eyes while Mum and J listened. "And did they care to tell where it is?"

"According to them, it's in London… and that's as specific as it gets." I replied shyly, slightly embarrassed at my lack of information.

"Right, and they expect us to find this place how, exactly?" Dad inquired further, turning his eyes to me. "It's not really something I can find on Google now, is it?"

"The letter says they'll guide us there." I answered.

"I don't see how. If as many people as I think are going, I won't be able to take you all in one car." Dad argued.

"Yeah, they didn't specify how we'd get there. They just ended the message with 'keep an eye on the fireplace'..." I recalled, scratching my head. "You don't think they…?"

And as if on cue, our living room fireplace suddenly lit up with tall, emerald green flames. One by one, Auror Roland, Commissioner Larkin, Professor Longbottom and Headmistress McGonagall crouched out of it, the flames subsiding right after. We just stared at them dumbfounded as they wiped their robes clean.

"Ah, yes, sorry about that." Professor Longbottom announced, straightening his robes with a confident air. Auror Roland and Commissioner Larkin mirrored the sentiment, seemingly unperturbed by their unconventional entrance. McGonagall, however, maintained a serene yet stern pose.

Dad's jaw hung slightly agape as he processed the sudden appearance of magical officials in our living room. Mum exchanged an uneasy glance with J, who sported an expression oscillating between curiosity and amusement. I, too, was caught off guard, despite my growing familiarity with magical occurrences.

Auror Roland, unfazed by our bewilderment, extended a parchment toward Dad. "Good morning, Mr. Martin. This is your family's Floo Network pass for the journey. Diagon Alley awaits, and we're here to assist you in getting there."

"You… really couldn't use the door, could you?" Dad commented, exasperated.

"And where's the fun in that?" Professor Longbottom countered with a smirk. "Either way, we really should get going, stores tend to get packed at this time of the morning."

"Wait, you mean for us to go right now?" Dad inquired, his eyes wide.

"Yeah, why not? It's a quick trip anyway." Said Longbottom. "Though I would prepare a few bags if I were you, we'll have things to carry."

"Things to carry? What, are we going shopping now?" Dad questioned.

"Precisely, Mr. Martin. Knowing the first experience in Diagon Alley can be quite daunting to those new to our world, we are here to assist you in purchasing the required materials for Carlos' school year." McGonagall explained.

Dad, with a shake of his head to pay attention once more, eyed the parchment cautiously, taking a moment before accepting it. "Floo Network, huh? Is that even safe?"

Professor Longbottom stepped forward, offering an assuring smile. "Perfectly safe, Mr. Martin. The Floo Network is a magical transportation system. Once you step into the fireplace and state your destination clearly, the enchanted flames will transport you to Diagon Alley. It's a well-established means of travel in the wizarding world."

Dad raised an eyebrow, still sceptical. "So, we just step into the fire and say 'Diagon Alley'? Sounds like a recipe for disaster."

Commissioner Larkin chuckled, "Rest assured, Mr. Martin, thousands of wizards use the Floo Network daily without mishap. It's one of the safest ways to travel magically. But to address your concern, Professor Longbottom and I will accompany you to ensure a smooth journey."

Mum, regaining some composure, interjected, "But what about Junior and Carlos? Are they coming too?"

Commissioner Larkin nodded, "Indeed, the whole family is invited. Diagon Alley is not only an essential part of the preparation for the school year, but also where most non-magical family members have their first contact with the wizarding world."

J, who had been observing the exchange with a mix of bemusement and curiosity, finally spoke up. "So, we're stepping into the fire, and poof, we're in this Diagon Alley place?"

Professor Longbottom chuckled, "Well, 'poof' might not be the most accurate description, but essentially, yes."

And so we gathered some backpacks in order to carry the books and trinkets we were about to buy. I decided to take the grimoire with me in case I saw something I wanted to document or learn more about. After all, that was the first time I was stepping into this magical world, and I wanted to make sure to familiarise myself with it as much as I could.

We all regrouped at the living room once we were ready. Dad sighed, glancing between us and the wizards. "I never thought I'd be taking magical transportation in my life, but here we are. Carlos, Junior, are you ready for this?"

I shared a nod with J, acknowledging the surreal nature of the moment. "Ready as I'll ever be."

That usually meant not ready at all.

Professor Longbottom then gestured towards the fireplace. "Whenever you're ready, Mr. Martin."

With a handful of a grey powder one of them had on their pockets, they tossed it into the fireplace and reignited the emerald green fire. The green flames danced, flickering with an otherworldly energy that both fascinated and unnerved me.

Dad, still holding the Floo Network pass with a mix of scepticism and curiosity, took a deep breath. "Alright, here goes nothing."

He approached the fireplace, glancing at us one last time. "Diagon Alley," he declared with a hint of uncertainty. And with that, he stepped into the flames. We watched in astonishment as Dad was engulfed by the green flames and disappeared, leaving us momentarily in suspense.

Moments later, his voice echoed from within the fireplace, "I… I think it worked!"

J and I exchanged glances, the reality of our magical journey sinking in. The wizards and Mum followed suit, and it was our turn. I took a steadying breath and walked towards the fireplace. "Diagon Alley," I said, hoping I'd pronounced it correctly.

The moment I entered the flames, it felt like being caught in a whirlwind of colours and sensations. The world twisted around me, and a rush of warm air swept through. In the blink of an eye, the emerald flames subsided, and I found myself standing in a completely different setting. I was in what seemed like a pub, with dark wood flooring and crude masonry walls bearing some early-1900s paintings, though it was hard to tell due to the sheer amount of people with long robes and funny hats there was. The air was filled with a smell I couldn't quite describe, I figured it was a mix of food with some kind of brew. Overall, the place was quite rustic, no fancy details to point out.

J emerged beside me, looking around with wide-eyed wonder. "This is… wow."

"Is this what this Diagon Alley place is?" Dad asked, now standing beside me and mum. Both of them seemed lost in a place like this.

"Almost, it's right this way." Professor Longbottom, McGonagall and the ministry folk walked towards what seemed like a wooden backdoor of the pub, with us trailing behind. I got momentarily distracted by the chairs suddenly putting themselves upside down on top of the tables as what looked like the cleaning staff approached the main hall. Likely some variation of a levitation charm. Okay, that was a complete assumption on my part but hey, I know what a levitation charm is!

"Where were we, exactly?" Asked mum as we stepped outside of the pub.

"That was the Leaky Cauldron, one of the finest wizarding pubs in all of London." Explained Longbottom. "Now this is the part when things start getting interesting…"

We were at what looked to be some enclosed alley space outside of the pub, the sky a misty grey above us. Professor Longbottom then took out his wand and started tapping on a wall of bricks, following a specific pattern.

"3 down, 2 to the side, aaaand… there we go!" He muttered as the red bricks began to move and reposition themselves, opening up a passageway. Once it was done, Diagon Alley had unfolded itself before our eyes, a bustling street filled with magical shops, each displaying peculiar wares and enchanting displays. The air buzzed with a mix of excitement and the distinctive scent of magical concoctions.

And there were so, so many people.

"This, everybody, is Diagon Alley!" Announced Longbottom, though it was now harder to hear due to all the crowd noose that made its way to us. "Now try to stick together because today is quite packed, let's not risk anybody getting lost, okay?"

We all nodded as Longbottom, McGonagall, Roland and Larkin paved the way through the crowd for us to follow. The street was severely irregular, with jagged curves and bumps on the pavement as well as crooked buildings that tilted in and outward, as if they were built on improvisation.

"Our first stop is right at the end of this street, at Gringotts Bank. Follow me!" Directed the Professor as the crowd in Diagon Alley swirled around us like a lively river of robes and magical paraphernalia. Gringotts Bank loomed at the end of the winding street, a grand and imposing three-story jagged structure made of white marble. The cacophony of magical chatter, the vibrant displays in shop windows, and the eclectic mix of people in varying robes and hats overwhelmed my senses. I felt like a fish swimming in a sea of wondrous unknowns… and I wasn't exactly comfortable in it.

J, beside me, was way more captivated, his eyes darting in every direction. "Dad, did you see that guy with the floating top hat? That's amazing!"

Dad, still trying to process the Leaky Cauldron pub experience, muttered, "Who would've thought a pub could be a gateway to a whole other world..."

The Professor, Headmistress and ministry officials led us through the lively crowd, weaving expertly between all those wizards and witches. Mum, a mix of bewilderment and fascination on her face, kept close, occasionally glancing at the shops we passed. Dad, just like myself, seemed to be rather uncomfortable having to dodge that multitude of people.

We reached Gringotts Bank, its grand white marble facade towering above us. The clamour of the crowd, the eclectic sights, and the overall magical ambiance of Diagon Alley were already making me dizzy. J was still wide-eyed with excitement, Dad appeared somewhat overwhelmed, and Mum seemed torn between fascination and the need to stick close to the family. The Professor gestured towards the bank's entrance, "Right through this door." He said.

As we entered the bank, the atmosphere shifted. The bright and crowded sights of the outside contrasted with the gloom and silence of the inside, the only noise that could be heard being that of paper scribblings and stamping. The entrance hall was long, guided by two parallel marble counters in between two-story columns that directed us to a central podium, lit by 2 tall chandeliers made of clear jewels.

I looked at the tall counters to the sides and my eyes inadvertently went wide. The people working there were… different looking. They were very short and had pointy ears… I think those were goblins? I recalled reading something on the Grimoire about the creatures that worked the bank. Mum and Dad exchanged glances, clearly not expecting the wizarding banking experience to be quite so different.

J, however, was in his element, peering into the marble counters with wide-eyed curiosity. "Did you see the size of those coins? And the way they handle them-"

"Junior, quiet." Mum whispered as their voices echoed through the chamber, attracting glances from the bank workers.

Upon reaching the main counter, professor Longbottom cleared his throat to draw the attention of the Goblin standing behind it, who looked at us with a slow head movement.

"Yes?" He asked in a serious monotone.

"We would like to open an account under the names of Winston Martin and Mary Louise Edward, please." Spoke Longbottom.

"Are they wizards?" The Goblin slowly asked.

"No, but their son-"

"Then I'm afraid I'll have to deny your request, Mr. Longbottom." The Goblin spoke severely, "Only wizards are allowed to have a vault at Gringotts Bank."

"Then open an account under the name of Carlos Martin Edward, please." Longbottom suggested, a bit impatient. The Goblin then looked over the counter to stare down at me.

"I'm afraid he is not yet of the required age to open a vault in Gringotts, Mr. Longbottom." The Goblin denied us once more. "Now, unless you can provide me with a legitimate wizarding ascendant to the boy…"

A shadow of doubt was cast over me at that moment. Legitimate wizarding ascendant? What did that even mean? Why was I being denied an account like this?

Professor Longbottom then stepped forward and said, in a quieter voice, "Listen, will we have to go through this every single year? this policy is over a decade old, why is it still being upheld?"

"Policy takes time to change, Mr. Longbottom…" The Goblin responded. "In the meantime, I must follow my orders."

"As Headmistress of Hogwarts, I demand there to be an exception." McGonagall ordered, her posture authoritative.

"Exception denied." The Goblin spoke, "I'm afraid your authority can only get you so far, Headmistress."

"Wait, a legitimate wizarding ascendant, you said?" My father asked in a serious tone.

"Yes, Mr. Martin. Only a wizard over the age of seventeen or with a legitimate wizarding ascendant can open a Vault at Gringotts…"

"Then have it in the name of my father, Henry C. Martin." Dad argued authoritatively. "How's that for an ascendant?"

We all stared at my father perplexed, not expecting him to come forward like this. Longbottom then looked at me with bewilderment, making me wonder if I had done something wrong. The Goblin's smirk slowly faded as he stared deep into my father's eyes, as if looking for evidence of misinformation. Upon noticing he was serious, the Goblin then excused himself and went to the back of the bank. Moments later he returned with another, more well-dressed Goblin figure.

"Ah, Mr. Longbottom and Headmistress McGonagall. How may I be of service?" The other Goblin asked rather cynically, as if expecting nothing fruitful to come of this conversation.

"Henry C. Martin's grandson is being denied the opening of a vault of his own." McGonagall spoke forward, "We demand for this to be rectified."

"And does the grandson have proof of his magical ascendance, by any means?" The other Goblin questioned.

My father glanced at me, a subtle nod as if giving me a cue. I felt a bit lost in the conversation, but I instinctively fumbled to retrieve the Grimoire from my bag, the leather-bound book seeming almost reassuring in this perplexing situation.

"Does… this count as proof?" I asked as I lifted up the book.

"Let me see…" requested the Goblin, so my father took the book from my hands and placed it above the counter.

The Goblin stroked the book with his hands, examining its cover carefully. Upon doing so, a small, multi-coloured light emanated from the gem of one of his rings, as if it had spotted something.

"Indeed, Henry C. Martin's magical signature is all over this artefact…" The Goblin mused.

"Does that mean we get a vault?" I asked expectantly. The Goblin hesitated a bit to respond.

"Yes, it does… do follow me, Mr. Edward…" The well-dressed Goblin spoke. The eight of us then began walking until the Goblin stopped us and said "Only one of you may accompany Mr. Edward as we head deeper into the vaults."

"But we're his family!" My mother protested with a scoff.

I sighed in exasperation "Let me guess, it's bank policy."

"Correct." Agreed the Goblin with a cynical smirk.

"Don't worry, I'll go with him." Offered Professor Longbottom. "Minerva, would you care to take the others back to the Leaky Cauldron while we deal with this?"

"Of course not, professor. All of you, follow me now!" McGonagall spoke to the others as Longbottom and I headed to the back of the bank. "They'll be back soon enough, let's go."

And so we separated. The well-dressed Goblin led us to a set of ornate doors marked with the Gringotts crest. As the doors creaked open, revealing a dimly lit tunnel, Professor Longbottom and I exchanged glances. The air inside was heavy with a mix of earthy dampness and the faint rusty scent of metal.

"Mind the gap, please." The Goblin said as we reached what looked to be an underground rail station. I was puzzled for a moment wondering if we had left the bank at any point. We stepped onto a narrow platform alongside the rails, where something that looked like a cart awaited us. The Goblin gestured for us to hop in. Professor Longbottom took the front seat, guiding me to sit beside him.

"WHOA!" The cart shot forward with surprising speed, zooming through a labyrinth of tunnels adorned with all sorts of railway signalling. As we descended deeper into the bowels of Gringotts, the air grew colder, and the faint echoes of distant clinks and clanks filled the tunnels.

"Professor, is this common for wizards?" I asked, my voice barely audible over the rush of wind and clanking metal.

"Gringotts is unique, Carlos. It's not just a bank; it's a fortress guarding the treasures of the wizarding world!" Professor Longbottom explained through the chaotic noise surrounding us. "These rails connect to various vaults, ensuring secure access. Many wizards prefer the security of Gringotts for their most valuable possessions!"

The cart whisked us through a massive cavern, revealing vault upon vault, each guarded by imposing goblin statues. I had to hold on tight as the cart made abrupt twists and turns.

"You never told me Henry C. Martin was your grandfather!" Commented Longbottom.

I turned my head to him as we took a turn "You knew my grandfather?"

"I didn't know him, but he's very much a famous personality in our world. One of the most competent Curse-Breakers of his time!" Longbottom explained.

"A Curse-Breaker? WHOA-" I said as I dodged a lighting fixture that passed way too close to me, "What's that?"

"They're explorers at heart, wizards that venture into the unknown to retrieve all sorts of valuable artefacts from the past, as well as to undo ancient curses and spells." The Professor said.

"So that's what my grandfather- AH!" I got interrupted by a wooden beam that passed close to my head, "So that's what my grandfather did in his travels?"

"That's what all of them do, yeah!" Answered Longbottom. "But few were as prestigious as your grandfather was. He travelled all over the world and ventured into many uncharted territories. A truly remarkable man, I must say!"

Finally, the cart slowed, bringing us to a halt in front of a large vault guarded by a particularly fierce-looking goblin.

"Mr. Edward, your family's vault," the well-dressed Goblin declared.

"Wait, family vault?" I muttered as I disembarked the cart, a little dizzy from all the twists and turns we took.

"Phew, that was quite a trip, wasn't it? How are you holding up, Carlos?" Asked Longbottom, patting me on the back.

"Barely…" I responded.

The Goblin then placed his hand on the metal door, causing all manner of mechanical sounds to come from the inside. After a while, the noise stopped and the vault door slowly creaked open, revealing…

"Whoa…" I said, looking at what seemed like piles upon piles of gold. Only a tad bit of it was visible from the outside, but as the goblin approached with the lantern, the magnitude of the treasure was revealed to be enormous.

"And with fame… came the rewards." Added Longbottom as we both stared into the mountain of valuables that lay before us.

"So, all of that gold is actually… mine?" I sheepishly asked as we stepped outside of the bank, hoping for some confirmation before I got any hopes up.

"Eh, almost yours." Said Longbottom, "As your grandfather was never pronounced dead, he is still technically the owner of the vault. Given he's been missing for decades, his immediate family is granted limited access to his treasure."

"Oh." My heart sank a bit at Professor Longbottom's clarification. I then felt bad for being at all disappointed at the obvious answer.

"But don't worry," Professor Longbottom continued, "You have access to the funds for your Hogwarts expenses."

"But wait a minute… What expenses? Didn't you say Hogwarts was going to cover everything?"

"Hogwarts covers the essentials, yes," Professor Longbottom explained. "Tuition, accommodation, and basic supplies are provided. However, your grandfather's vault allows you to get new, high-quality supplies instead of second-hand ones. Plus, there are always additional items you might need that Hogwarts doesn't cover—personal books, special ingredients, and other such things."

"So, I can get all new supplies?" I asked, a bit more hopeful.

"Exactly," Professor Longbottom confirmed with a cheerful nod. "This way, you'll have everything you need to start your education at Hogwarts on the right foot, with a few extras that might help you along the way. Your family can manage the rest of your finances until your grandfather's status is resolved."

"But… how can it be resolved?" I questioned, my thoughts still grappling with the complexities of the magical world, "I mean, how do we know what even happened to him?"

"It's a delicate matter, Carlos. We'd need to explore the circumstances surrounding your grandfather's disappearance. There might be clues, magical or otherwise, that could shed light on what happened," Professor Longbottom explained, his gaze contemplative.

"And how do we do that?" I inquired, feeling a growing sense of responsibility and curiosity.

Professor Longbottom chuckled, "Don't worry about that, Carlos. You're only just starting out your magical journey. Perhaps you can dwell into that when you're a little older."

"A little older…" I muttered as we walked back into the crowd of Diagon Alley. The place seemed even more packed now, so I had to stick close to Professor Longbottom to avoid getting washed away in that sea of people.

"Right. Our next stop is here," Said Longbottom as we stopped in front of a narrow and dark shop nestled between two taller establishments. I think its name was… Ollivanders?

Before we could enter, I saw a pale boy in black and red attire march out of the store with misty eyes, not looking back at any point. An angry looking man in a red and brown armoured outfit wearing a black cape left afterwards.

The shop greeted us with a soft chime as we entered. The air inside was filled with the distinct aroma of aged wood and cardboard. Thousands of slender boxes were neatly stacked in shelves that stretched through a mezzanine, with more stacked on the back of the store. The whole place was eerily empty compared to the outside.

"Are you sure they're open…?" I asked sheepishly, afraid we might have overstepped some boundary.

Professor Longbottom then loudly cleared his throat, to which a ladder on rails made its way to the front of the store. On it stood a thin, elderly man dressed in a purple attire that would not have been out of place in the 1800s. The old men glanced at us and put on a wrinkly smile.

"Ah, Mr. Longbottom. How very pleasing to see you again." The man greeted us.

"The pleasure is mine, Mr. Ollivander." Professor Longbottom replied, tapping me on the shoulder "Today I bring you this fellow young man in need of his very first wand. Think you can help him?"

"Ah yes, how exciting must it be to be getting your first wand. Tell me young gentleman, what is your name?" Mr. Ollivander asked.

"Erm… Carlos… Martin Edward, sir." I stuttered, afraid I would mispronounce my own name.

"Hm… how curious." The old man mused. "This name is not yet familiar to me. And I am familiar with most names that pass by this shop. Let me ask you this, Mr. Edward: What can you tell me of your family?"

I froze upon hearing that question. "My… family?" I mumbled.

"Yes… surely your family has some ties to the wizarding world, maybe a distant one, but it is there nonetheless. Is any close relative of yours a wizard or witch?"

"Well, um… there's-"

"He's actually a muggleborn, sir. New blood entering our world!" Responded Longbottom cheerfully, though that last sentence sounded rather odd to me. New blood?

"Ah yes, of course. Can't expect muggleborns to be versed in their family's history now, can we? If you will follow me…" He chuckled as he opened the counter door to let us through. Professor Longbottom winked at me as he went ahead. What was that supposed to mean?

Mr. Ollivander led us deeper into the shop, signalling for the two of us to enter a narrow door that led to a large room with a small podium and a lectern. Around it, stacks upon stacks of opened wand boxes littered the floorboards.

"If you would give me just a moment…!" He excused himself as he left the room, to which we soon heard box rummaging sounds coming from the corridor. Moments later, Mr. Ollivander reappeared carrying around 15 to 20 boxes on his arms, laying them on a sideboard next to the door. He then chose one of them, examined it and handed it to me. "Here, let's begin with this one. Alder wood, 10,5 inches, mermaid hair core, harvested under a full moon tide."

I nervously took the wand from Mr. Ollivander's outstretched hand, unsure of what to do next. I stood on the podium, holding the wand in an awkward stance, pointing it at the void.

"Go ahead, give it a wave," Mr. Ollivander encouraged, his bright eyes fixed on me with an intensity that made me squirm.

I hesitated, my palms growing clammy as I raised the wand, trying to mimic some of the motions I'd seen on the grimoire during the last few weeks. Upon drawing the air patterns I remembered, however, nothing happened. I tried again, pointing at one of the opened boxes on the floor.

Nothing.

I exchanged a nervous glance with Professor Longbottom, who offered an encouraging smile. "Just relax, Carlos. It takes time for some wizards to find the right match."

I nodded, trying to steady my trembling hands as I returned the wand to its box. Mr. Ollivander proceeded to examine it once more, this time with a frown on his face. He then picked up another box and handed me the next wand. "Let us see this one then. Emberwood, 11 inches, dragon heartstring core, tempered by the breath of a volcanic eruption."

I took the next wand from Mr. Ollivander with a sense of trepidation, my nerves fraying with each passing moment. As I stood on the podium, I felt the weight of expectation bearing down on me, the pressure to perform overwhelming.

With a shaky hand, I attempted to replicate some of the other wand movements I had seen in the grimoire, hoping one of them would make at least something move.

Nothing happened.

"Strange…" Mr. Ollivander muttered under his breath, his tone troubled, to which I cast him a concerned look. Longbottom seemed a tad uncomfortable while watching me from the corner of the room.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

"Nothing you should worry about, Mr. Edward." He reassured me, though his words did little to calm my nerves. He took the wand from my hand and examined it closely, as if searching for some hidden clue, his frown deepening. He proceeded to hand me yet another wand. "Voidvine wood, 12 inches, Essence of ancient ice, harvested from a glacier untouched by sunlight for millennia."

I barely noticed how they all seemed to have different wood and jewel patterns. They were pretty, sure, but I was too nervous to give them a proper look.

Once again, I tried to channel some form of magic, hoping desperately for a different outcome. But once again, my efforts were met with failure. No sparks, no flickers of light, nothing. Frustration and disappointment gnawed at me, and I could feel the weight of Ollivander's scrutiny bearing down on me.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Ollivander," I said, my voice tinged with defeat. "I just... I can't seem to make any of them work."

Ollivander's expression softened slightly, his gaze shifting from the wand to me. "Not to worry, Mr. Edward," he said, his tone gentle yet concerned. "Sometimes, the right wand chooses the wizard in its own time."

But as Ollivander continued to search through the boxes, I could see the doubt lingering in his eyes. And with each failed attempt, my own confidence waned. Wands came and went, each more eccentric than the other, but all of them displayed the performance of a mere twig.

After at least ten of these wands had gone by, Mr. Ollivander excused himself once again, except this time he took professor Longbottom with him. Though he closed the door behind them, I thought I could hear a faint chatter coming from the corridor. I couldn't make out anything intelligible, which only contributed to my anxiety.

My heart began to race. Had I failed that badly this early on?

After a few more moments of uncertainty, the two of them returned to the room, a look of defeat in Ollivander's eyes. He then handed me what looked to be a cheap plastic box with a simple black wand inside of it. No fancy shapes, no patterns, nothing. Just a plain, dull stick.

"Mana-infused wood, 12 inches, pre-made…" He announced rather distastefully, not caring enough to take it off the box for me. I took the wand in my hands and looked at it more closely, looking for something that made it distinct other than its lack of distinction. I took the plain, unassuming wand from the box, feeling a sense of resignation wash over me. It seemed like the last resort, a final attempt to find a match. As I held it in my hand, there was a strange, almost palpable energy emanating from it, different from the other wands I had tried.

"Go ahead, Mr. Edward," urged Ollivander, his voice tinged with a bit of scepticism.

With a deep breath, I raised the wand, unsure of what to expect. I looked at professor Longbottom one more time as he nodded for me to carry on. I attempted a simple swish and flick, thinking nothing would come of it. There was, however, a surge of power that erupted from the wand, sending sparks flying in all directions like fireworks.

"Whoa!" I exclaimed, barely managing to keep the wand steady as sparks danced around the room. The display was impressive, but seemed out of control.

Professor Longbottom looked on with a mixture of surprise and concern, his brows furrowed as he watched the erratic display of magic.

"Easy there, Carlos," he cautioned, taking a step closer. "Try to focus your intent, channel the energy."

I nodded, trying to reign in the wild magic that seemed to pulse through the wand. With concentrated effort, I attempted another spell, this time aiming for a nearby stack of boxes. To my relief, a beam of light shot forth from the wand, hitting the target dead on and causing the boxes to levitate.

"So… that's magic, right?" I asked, unsure if that's what was supposed to happen.

The professor and wandmaker seemed unimpressed.

"Yes, Mr. Edward, that is magic…" Mr. Ollivander replied with a sigh, clearly disappointed. "Congratulations, you seemed to have… chosen… the right wand for you."

I was confused as to what it all meant. Clearly I had performed magic in some manner, but it didn't seem to be what they were expecting. Had I chosen the wrong spells? Or were my demonstrations that unimpressive?

"Congratulations, Carlos," Professor Longbottom said, offering a faint smile. "It seems you've found your wand."

I couldn't help but feel a pang of disappointment at the lacklustre response. Wasn't this supposed to be a moment of triumph? Instead, there was an air of resignation hanging over us.

"Um… Thank you, Professor," I replied, trying to muster some enthusiasm.

Mr. Ollivander, however, remained silent, his expression inscrutable as he watched me with a mixture of curiosity and concern.

"So, uh, what now?" I asked, breaking the uneasy silence that had settled over the room.

"Now, we shall see how well you can control your newfound power," Mr. Ollivander replied cryptically, his gaze fixed on the stack of boxes that were left floating in the air.

"Oh, um…!" I waved the wand again, unsure of how to undo the spell. Instead of placing the boxes down gently, I ended up tossing them towards another pile and knocking it over, making the room a tad bit messier than it already was.

Professor Longbottom looked on with a mixture of concern and fascination, his eyes darting between me and the wand. "It seems this wand has quite a bit of… potential," he remarked cautiously. "But we'll need to work on refining your control."

I nodded, unaware of what said "control" was meant to feel like. In fact, magic didn't feel like… anything, really. It's like it worked on its own, without my input. That worried me.

Was I actually doing anything?

"Indeed, Mr. Edward. Though most wands choose their wizard, it is the wizard who must learn to master its power..." Said Ollivander.

"This is the second time you speak of wands choosing wizards. How does that work?" I asked.

"Wands are… complex entities, you see." Replied Ollivander. "Once they are created, they develop a will - a preference - of their own, let's say. It is they who choose the wizard, not the other way around."

"But didn't you say I chose this wand?" I inquired further.

"Indeed you did, for this is… not like most wands." He explained. "This particular model is what we refer to as a mana wand."

"Mana…? What's mana?"

"Liquified magic." Responded Longbottom. "Think of it like water: it's in the very air we breathe, and if we condense it, it becomes a substance known as mana."

"And it is infused within your wand." Explained Ollivander. "Instead of a typical core, your wand contains a fillet of crystalized mana, which it draws its power from. That means, however, that said power isn't limitless, requiring periodical recharges."

"Recharges?" I repeated, "How does one recharge a wand?"

"A couple of ways. You can either wait for it to replenish on its own, so long as you're in a magic rich environment, or dip it in a pool of mana." Replied Ollivander. "Regardless, it is technology that's relatively new, meant to aid those who struggle to manifest magic, so there is a possibility for… mishaps."

"What… kind of mishaps?" I fearfully asked.

"All he's saying is it'll take some getting used to, right?" Reassured professor Longbottom, placing a hand on my shoulder.

"Indeed it will, Mr. Longbottom. Perhaps Mr. Edward will fare better on his journey with your guidance." Suggested Ollivander.

"You can be sure of that. I'll be keeping an eye on him and his progress!" The professor announced cheerfully.

"Very well. It was a… pleasure… doing business with you today." Said Ollivander rather dryly.

"The pleasure is ours, Mr. Ollivander. Thank you for everything." Replied professor Longbottom.

"And remember, our doors are always open should you find yourself in need of a… better wand." Finished Mr. Ollivander as he began guiding us out of the shop.

"Wait, aren't we gonna pay for this?" I asked as we walked out the front door, back into the crowded alley.

"I did say I owed you a present, didn't I?" Said Longbottom enthusiastically, a throwback to my birthday months ago. "Come on now, we have quite the school list to gather!"

Time went on as we explored shop after shop, buying all sorts of supplies and gadgets. More than once I saw professor Longbottom use something that looked like a type of credit card, though I was too afraid to ask what it was. I just kept wondering whose money was really going into all this. Was it his, my grandfather's, my family's? That whole bank trip left me confused as to who owns what.

One of our stops involved buying the uniforms for my school year. Some of the most uncomfortable moments happened at Madam Malkin's, where we spent a considerable amount of time getting a uniform tailored to me, which was by far the most awkward experience I've ever had. Considering it was the first time I've ever had anything tailored, I was not expecting it to involve so many pinches, stings and tight grippings in very uncomfortable areas. Madam Malkin herself seemed flustered with my inability to stay still while she did all the measurements and stitching, all using her wand.

Most embarrassingly, it was then I discovered I was unable to tie a tie properly. Worse than that, the try-on booths felt too small as I squirmished to get the fabric tied around my neck and under the shirt collar.

"Hey, is everything alright in there?" I heard an unfamiliar voice with an american accent ask from the booth next to mine as I tried on the tie.

"Hum… yeah?" I answered, wondering if I had elbowed the thin walls that much to draw attention.

"Spin it around the thin end, then push it up the neck and down the knot!" The boy explained.

"... What?" I blurted, unsure of what he meant.

"Take the large end, spin it around the thin one then push it up and down the knot!" He repeated himself, slower this time.

Wait, how did he know…?

I fumbled with the tie, attempting to follow the boy's instructions, but my efforts only seemed to make things worse. The fabric twisted and bunched up awkwardly, refusing to cooperate no matter how hard I tried.

"Uh…!" Suddenly, my finger got stuck in the knot. Trying to undo it seemed to create yet another knot for my other finger to get stuck in. No, don't ask me how I managed to do such a feat.

As I continued to struggle with the tie, feeling more and more flustered by the second, I heard the voice again, this time closer, as if the person had moved to my booth.

"Here, let me show you," the voice said kindly, and before I could react, the curtain to my booth was pulled back, revealing a red haired boy around my age wearing a similar school attire and a friendly smile on his face.

I blinked in surprise, momentarily taken aback by his sudden appearance. "Um, hi?" I managed to mumble, feeling a bit embarrassed at being caught in such a predicament.

The boy chuckled softly, reaching out to gently untangle the mess I'd made of the tie. "Hello there! Don't worry, it's a common struggle for first-timers," he spoke, his fingers deftly working to straighten out the fabric. "It can be tricky at first, but you'll get the hang of it eventually."

As he continued to adjust the tie, his movements were fluid and precise, as if he'd done this a thousand times before. As thankful as I was, I felt equally embarrassed for needing his willingness to lend a hand.

"There, all done," the boy said, stepping back to admire his handiwork. "See? Not so difficult once you know the trick."

I glanced in the mirror, surprised to see that the tie was now neatly and evenly knotted, sitting perfectly against my shirt collar. "Wow, you're really good at this," I remarked, impressed by his expertise.

He shrugged modestly, a grin spreading across his face. "Just a little trick I picked up from my dad. He's a stickler for proper attire. I'm Connor, by the way. Connor Fletcher."

"Carlos… Martin Edward," I replied, offering him a sheepish smile. "Thanks for, uh, helping me out."

"No problem at all, Carlos," Connor said with a reassuring nod. "We first years have to stick together, am I right?'

And so the day carried on as unexpectedly as expected, other honourable mentions including the Apothecary, a shop for potion ingredients filled with smells I didn't dare to guess the sources of. The heaviest of loads came in the form of a cauldron, and boy were those things heavy. It didn't take long before things became too big of a load to carry even with the bags I'd brought, causing me to drop items more than once. That's when professor Longbottom had the idea of getting me a special shoulder bag that was tailored towards academic supplies… which is a fancy way of saying it carries way more than its actual size, which was kinda neat. Yes, the whole cauldron fit inside the bag. Don't ask me how.

We left the school books for last given the sheer amount of them. It seems the school curriculum had gotten several revisions over the last few years, each of those adding one or more books to the list. So, our last stop was a funny-named bookshop called Flourish and Blotts.

Unlike other shops, the place was packed with customers, all dressed in a sea of colourful robes and witch hats which made it hard to move around. Above the multitude of people, a towering mezzanine of bookshelves covered the walls, with individual books flying - yes, flying - from one shelf to the next in a chaotically organised manner.

"What's happening here?" I asked due to the commotion.

"Hm… I think it's a book premiere." Professor Longbottom replied, his voice barely audible above the noise.

We manoeuvred our way to the front of the crowd, where a tall man stood, surrounded by flashing cameras and enthusiastic fans. He was dressed in striking red and brown robes adorned with pieces of armour, and a black cape billowed behind him. His face, weathered with age, bore a muted scar that added to his mystique. "That's Rudolph Murtlock," Professor Longbottom whispered, nodding toward the man. "He's the author behind the newest edition of 'Hogwarts: A History.'"

I strained to hear snippets of conversation amidst the clamour, catching the name "Murtlock" repeated excitedly by those around me.

As the crowd's attention turned toward Murtlock, he raised his hands, signalling for silence. Gradually, the noise died down, and all eyes were fixed on him.

"Thank you all for joining me today," Murtlock began, his voice commanding attention. "I am thrilled to present to you the latest edition of 'Hogwarts: A History.'"

The crowd erupted into applause, and Murtlock smiled graciously before continuing.

"This latest revision includes new insights, discoveries, and revelations about the history and mysteries of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry," he explained, his words resonating with the audience. "I have delved deeper into the origins of the four Hogwarts houses, the secrets of the castle's hidden chambers, and the untold stories of its most famous alumni."

As Murtlock spoke, I couldn't help but notice a faint hum coming from somewhere nearby. It sounded almost like a kind of machine.

"In addition," Murtlock continued, "I have included detailed accounts of recent events at Hogwarts, including the Battle of Hogwarts and its aftermath. It is my hope that this edition will serve as a comprehensive guide for generations of witches and wizards to come."

The crowd erupted into applause once more, and Murtlock bowed gracefully before stepping down from the makeshift stage. As he made his way through the throng of admirers, I caught a glimpse of the book he held in his hands—the latest edition of "Hogwarts: A History."

"Mr. Murtlock!" I heard several people, which I concluded were journalists, ask simultaneously. Murtlock then signalled for them to calm down as he selected one of them to speak up.

"Mr. Murtlock, is it true that your latest excavations in Hogwarts castle have uncovered a secret tomb?" One of them inquired.

Murtlock chuckled, a twinkle in his eyes as he responded to the journalist's question. "Ah, the secret tomb rumour. I must admit, it's been quite the topic of discussion lately. While I can't reveal all the details just yet, I can confirm that our recent excavations at Hogwarts have indeed uncovered some fascinating discoveries."

The crowd leaned in eagerly, hanging on Murtlock's every word.

"As for the tomb," Murtlock continued, "it's a remarkable find — a hidden chamber deep beneath the castle, untouched for millennia. We are still cautious over what exactly lies there, but as soon as we find anything conclusive, we'll be eager to share our discoveries with the world."

You could hear the noise of notepads being scribbled furiously, but none of the wizard journalists were holding any writing material. That's when I noticed the notepads were floating around their respective owners, being written on by what looked like… feathers?

"And what about the stories of the ghosts haunting Hogwarts?" another journalist interjected, eager for more insider information.

Wait, did she just say ghosts?

Murtlock smiled knowingly, as if he had been expecting the question. "Ah, the ghosts of Hogwarts. They're a fascinating aspect of the castle's history. In this latest edition of 'Hogwarts: A History,' I've delved deeper into the origins and legends surrounding the castle's spectral inhabitants. From Sir Nicholas of Mimsy Porpington to Helena Ravenclaw, each ghost has a story to tell, and I've made sure to include all the details in the book."

The crowd murmured with excitement, exchanging whispers and theories about Hogwarts' resident ghosts.

"And what can readers expect from this latest edition of 'Hogwarts: A History'?" another journalist inquired, her voice eager.

Murtlock's smile widened, his enthusiasm contagious. "Readers can expect a comprehensive and detailed exploration of Hogwarts' history, traditions, and mysteries. From the founding of the school by the four legendary founders to its modern-day challenges and triumphs, this edition covers it all. Whether you're a student, a scholar, or simply a fan of magical history, 'Hogwarts: A History' offers something for everyone. And just in time for the new school year, nonetheless…!" He commented at the end.

With that, Murtlock bid farewell to the journalists and disappeared into the crowd, leaving behind a buzz of excitement and anticipation. As the crowd began to disperse, Professor Longbottom turned to me with a smile.

"Quite the eventful day, wouldn't you say, Carlos?" he remarked, his eyes twinkling with excitement. "So here's what we're going to do next: I have a few books of my own I need to gather, so I'mma have to leave you alone for a few minutes, okay?"

"Alone?" I questioned, my eyes widened. "But… what if I get lost?"

"There's only so much room for one to lose themselves in Flourish and Blotts!" Chuckled Longbottom. "You're safe here, that's all that matters. Here's your book list. Just follow the signs and you should be able to find everything."

He handed me a small piece of parchment, pointing at the many signs around the aisles of the bookshop. I nodded, trying to muster up some courage as Professor Longbottom left me to navigate the bustling bookshop on my own. Clutching the parchment tightly in my hand, I took a deep breath and set off into the maze of shelves.

The signs above each aisle seemed to be written in a language of their own, filled with cryptic symbols and swirling patterns. I squinted at them, trying to decipher their meaning as I wove my way through the crowd of witches and wizards. All the while, I could still hear that hum coming from somewhere nearby, despite all the noise.

I danced around the aisles, dodging the many robed figures as they moved toward and past me. Naturally I couldn't dodge everyone, so I would bump into somebody time and time again every time I stopped to have a look at the bookshelves. The hum, however, continued ringing in my ears, now stealing my attention. I thought I felt something vibrate in my backpack as well?

I opened it up to find a strange golden glow coming from inside of it. It was the Grimoire. Its clockwork mechanism was letting out a glow like it had been activated, although I was sure I didn't use the password at any point.

I glanced around, half-expecting someone to notice the strange glow emanating from my book, but the bustling crowd seemed too preoccupied with their own business to pay me any mind.

With a mixture of trepidation and fascination, I reached out and gently touched the cover of the Grimoire. As soon as my fingers made contact, a surge of warmth washed over me, and the golden glow intensified. Upon opening the book, the following message could be read:

Acquiring knowledge,

Please stand by.

"Acquiring knowledge…?" I muttered, confused. What knowledge was it acquiring, and why now of all times?

"Is everything alright, dear?" A kind voice interrupted my thoughts, and I looked up to see a witch with a concerned expression gazing down at me.

"Oh, um, yes! Everything's fine, thank you," I stammered, hastily closing the Grimoire and stuffing it back into my bag. "Just, uh, trying to find my way around this place."

The witch smiled sympathetically. "It can be quite overwhelming, especially for first-timers. If you need any help, don't hesitate to ask."

"Thank you, I appreciate it," I replied, returning her smile before she disappeared into the crowd.

Feeling a sense of relief from the kind witch's words, I continued navigating through the maze of bookshelves, keeping an eye out for the titles on my list. However, the mysterious hum and the golden glow emanating from my backpack kept drawing my attention.

Curiosity piqued, I found a secluded corner of the shop where I could examine the Grimoire without attracting too much attention. Carefully, I opened the book again, watching as the golden glow intensified and the clockwork mechanisms whirred to life.

"Acquiring knowledge... Please stand by," the message read once more, but this time, I noticed something different. Text was scrolling rapidly across the pages, words and images flashing by in a blur. Upon turning the page, another message could be found:

Updating Index…

After a few moments, a list of sorts began writing itself on the page… and then the next page… and then the next. I soon realised the pages were being filled with titles from the bookshop. Some were very straightforward, such as A History of Magic. Other titles like A Study Into the Possibility of Reversing the Actual and Metaphysical Effects of Natural Death, with Particular Regard to the Reintegration of Essence and Matter… not so much.

I picked up the parchment piece Professor Longbottom gave to me and compared the titles from those in the Grimoire, and was surprised to see that most if not all of the books I was supposed to get were there as well, waiting to be accessed.

Did it just… absorb the whole library?

"Hey, what are you doing?" I heard someone ask. My head jolted up to see a pale-looking brown haired boy staring at me with a distrustful gaze. He wore an almost entirely black attire, including gloves and capes, with exception of his overshirt vest which was red.

"Oh, hum… nothing!" I said quickly closing the Grimoire, hoping he didn't see anything compromising.

The young wizard raised an eyebrow, his gaze lingering on the Grimoire. "Where did you get that?"

"Huh?"

"I said where did you get that?" He said in an aggressive tone, taking a step forward. "Is it from the shop?"

"What? No, I-" I stuttered, somehow thinking I was being accused of theft.

"No matter. You need to give it to me!" The boy ordered, stretching out his hand.

"What? Why do I- Hey!" I interjected as he tried to take the book from me by force. I held the Grimoire close to my chest, elbowing him away. He then pushed me against a shelf that stood behind me, dropping several books on my head. I winced in pain and stumbled backward, trying to regain my balance. The Grimoire slipped from my grasp and fell to the floor with a thud. Before I could reach for it, the aggressive wizard lunged forward, snatching the book from the ground.

"No!" I protested, reaching out futilely as he held the Grimoire triumphantly in his hands. My heart raced with a mixture of fear and frustration as I watched him smirk victoriously.

"Thanks for the gift, newbie," he sneered, turning to leave with the Grimoire in tow.

But just as he took a step away, a firm hand gripped his shoulder, stopping him in his tracks. I glanced up to see Professor Longbottom standing behind him, his expression stern and determined.

"Is there a problem here?" Professor Longbottom's voice was calm but authoritative, cutting through the tension in the air.

The aggressive wizard hesitated, his smirk faltering as he glanced back at Longbottom. "N-no, sir," he stammered, his bravado waning under the professor's gaze.

"I beg to differ," Professor Longbottom replied, his tone cold. "You seem to have mistaken my student's property for your own. I believe you owe him an apology and a return of his belongings."

The wizard's expression darkened, and for a moment, I feared he might refuse. But under the weight of Longbottom's gaze, he relented, handing the Grimoire back to me begrudgingly.

"Sorry," he muttered, his voice barely audible over the background noise.

"What is happening here?" Asked Rudolph Murtlock as he stepped closer to the scene, his voice now broad and authoritative.

"What's happening, Mr. Murtlock, is that your son has engaged in questionable behaviour just now, trying to steal Carlos' book." Explained Longbottom in a tone of reprehension.

"My son? Stealing? You have got to be mistaken." Retorted Murtlock. "There's no way he would do-"

He quit his sentence as his look befell me and my Grimoire. His face turned slightly pale and his eyes grew wide, as if he had seen a… Well, clearly not a ghost given those seem to be a thing, but something rather terrifying.

"What is this?" Murtlock asked dryly.

"I believe that is none of your concern, Mr. Murtlock." Longbottom replied hastily. "Your son's actions, however, are. Though I'm sure such behaviour won't pass you by unpunished now, will it?"

Murtlock hesitated for a moment, his eyes darting between Professor Longbottom, his own son and me.

"No… of course it won't." He finally spoke up, though in a bitter tone. He gave me one final look of distaste before ordering, "Tiberius, come."

And so the boy named Tiberius walked off, but not before giving me an angry stare, as did his father. "What were you thinking?" I heard the man mutter angrily as we moved away from the scene.

"I don't get it…" I asked Professor Longbottom after we left the shop. "Why did that boy try to steal from me? I did nothing to him…"

"Don't get yourself caught up in the reasoning of those who wrong you, Carlos," Advised Longbottom. "Oftentimes those are petty, and are best left ignored."

"But why my book? What did he see in it that made him want to take it?" I followed up.

"You tell me. It belonged to your grandfather, right? That alone should be indicative of its value." Suggested Longbottom. "But that isn't some ordinary book now, is it?"

"I think it's called a Grimoire." I continued. "It seems to have knowledge imbued in it, but I don't know where it comes from."

"A Grimoire, huh? I figured it was too fancy a book." Commented Longbottom.

"You know what a Grimoire is?" I asked.

"Yeah, I've heard of them," Professor Longbottom replied, his expression thoughtful. "They're magical repositories of knowledge, being able to store and update the information within themselves. Some say they have a mind of their own, seeking out those who are worthy of their wisdom."

"Worthy?" I echoed, puzzled. "But why would it choose me?"

"Who knows?" Longbottom shrugged. "Perhaps there's something special about you that caught its attention. Or maybe it's simply fate at work. Either way, it seems like you've stumbled upon something remarkable."

I glanced down at the Grimoire nestled in my bag, its golden glow faint but unmistakable. Despite the confusion and uncertainty swirling around it, there was also a sense of curiosity and wonder that drew me to it.

"It's certainly... intriguing," I admitted, still grappling with the idea that I now possessed such a mysterious and powerful object.

"Just be careful with it, Carlos," Longbottom cautioned, his tone serious. "Grimoires are known to be both powerful and unpredictable. You never know what secrets they might hold and who might be after them. Letting it fall on the wrong hands could be detrimental to your grandfather's legacy."

I nodded, silently vowing to heed his warning. The Grimoire may hold the key to unlocking untold mysteries and knowledge, but I couldn't afford to underestimate its potential risks.

"Let's get back to your family now, shall we?" Suggested Longbottom. "I heard the Leaky Cauldron is having roast beef for lunch today. Yummy!"

Ugh. I hate Roast beef.

Author notes: Thanks for reading, be sure to leave a review! Also, don't forget to share this story with your peers if you can! It would mean the world to me to have more eyes on this story.