Leaving Ollivanders, their next stop was Potage's Cauldron Shop, where they picked up a pair of Standard Size 2 Pewter Cauldron and a set of brass scales, as well as a set of crystal phials from the apothecary, and a collapsible brass telescope.
Their last stop was Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions, where Aegeus and the rest were fitted for their black plain work robes, winter cloaks, and pointed hats while magical tape measures zipped effortlessly around their waists and shoulders, Jean even got Hermione a hat and robe her size.
Once all their clothes were paid for and safely tucked into heavy leather trunks, the Granger family made their way back down the alley with Professor McGonagall, toward the archway that led out to Muggle London.
They passed a shop with a wide bay window full of cages, feathers and fur shifting restlessly behind the glass.
"Oh— we still need a pet," Jean said, slowing down.
"It's not a requirement, strictly speaking," McGonagall said, "Though most students do keep one. Owl, cat, or toad— I'd steer well clear of the toads if I were you, they went out of fashion centuries ago." She nodded toward the door. "Magizoic Menagerie. Go on, I'll wait."
Inside, the shop was a chaos of feathers, fur, and croaking. Aegeus moved past the cages of toads without a second glance, and past a shelf of sleepy, disinterested cats curled in wicker baskets, until he reached the far wall— one owl perched in silence, watching him calmly.
A tawny owl, mid-sized, feathers a deep mottled brown. When Aegeus stepped closer, it tilted its head.
"This one," Aegeus said softly.
The shopkeeper blinked. "You don't want to look at the others first?"
"No, this one is perfect."
Back outside, McGonagall gave the caged owl a brief, approving glance. "Good choice, although the school has owls you can borrow, you will eventually have to buy your own."
"Now you have all your required materials," McGonagall said finally. "Here is your train ticket. It's Platform Nine and Three-Quarters at King's Cross Station, through the barrier between platforms nine and ten. September first, eleven o'clock sharp, don't be late!"
"Thank you for everything, Professor," Jean said, offering a handshake.
McGonagall gave a firm, brief handshake. "A pleasure, Mrs. Granger. I look forward to seeing both of your children at Hogwarts." With a final nod, she turned and strode briskly into the crowd, her dark robes melting into the bustling Diagon Alley shopfronts within moments.
Later that night at home.
Aegeus sat at his desk, his dark Ebony wand laid out on the desk beside his open copy of The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection
He picked up the wand. murmured. Lumos, executing a crisp flick of his wrist.
A brilliant, piercing white light erupted from the tip of his wand, illuminating the entire bedroom.
Aegeus stared at the intense beam of light, adjusting his intent slightly. Instantly, the light dimmed to a cool, soft glow
Fascinating, Aegeus noted, turning the glowing tip of his wand back and forth. The incantation and wand movement acted as triggers. Once established, the spell's magnitude can be freely manipulated.
The light was stronger, yet the strain behind it was almost nothing.
When he called light through wandless magic, he had to continuously hold the shape of the light in his mind and focus to keep it at a certain magnitude— but now, the incantation and wand movement did almost all the work for him. As for the wand, its function was to stabilize and amplify magical output.
Less effort. Smooth output. A stronger effect for a fraction of the strain.
That was the actual value of wand magic, he analyzed.
Aegeus opened another book called Magical Studies and began to read.
While all witches and wizards were capable of casting spells with the proper training, the quality and duration of these spells depended entirely on the amount of spell energy they were capable of generating for it, as well as their level of success at transferring and distributing it.
The level of spell energy that a witch or wizard was capable of at any given time could be influenced by their emotional state. For instance, witches and wizards who experienced strong emotions like happiness and anger were able to cast spells more effectively.
In areas of frequent magical activity, a perpetual veil of spell energy would linger in the air around it and increase the duration of all spells used in the vicinity. And it's impossible to know who cast what based on that alone.
But when spells were cast in areas where magic was used infrequently, a residual aura of spell energy with a clear magic signature would linger in the area, and it could be identified by wizards with the Trace Charm.
The Trace...
Aegeus paused mid-sentence, his mind seizing upon the concept. The trace monitoring system.
He had read enough by now to know that it wasn't tied to a wand or a location— it was supposedly tied to him. A charm placed on every underage witch and wizard, active from a young age until they turned seventeen, that flagged any magic performed in their immediate vicinity.
But since nobody had informed him to refrain from doing magic this summer, he didn't think he had to worry about it for now.
The flaw was obvious once he thought about it. The Trace could detect that magic had occurred near him. It couldn't determine who had cast it.
That was why it worked as a deterrent for Muggle-born students— in a Muggle household, there was no other explanation. Any flare of magic near a Muggle-born child could only have come from the child.
But there was a flaw here: his sister.
Hermione's magic had already manifested. Any residual trace the Ministry picked up from the house could belong to either of them— his deliberate practice, or one of her accidental flares. There was no way to tell the two apart.
A faint smile touched the corner of his lips as he extinguished the blue light. I am safe for at least three more years; he can cast as much magic as he likes over the entire summer.
He then reached into his bag and pulled out the official Hogwarts acceptance parchment, setting it flat on his desk. Next to it, he unrolled a clean scrap of parchment, dipped his fresh quilled pen into black ink, and composed a concise response:
Dear Headmaster Dumbledore,
I formally accept the offer of admission to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
I will be attending on the first of September.
Sincerely,
Aegeus Granger
He folded the parchment precisely, sealing the edge with a drop of green wax. Turning toward the window, he called to his newly acquired tawny owl that was perched quietly in its cage.
The owl blinked its large amber eyes, stepping onto his outstretched arm without hesitation.
"Deliver this to Headmaster Dumbledore at Hogwarts," Aegeus instructed smoothly, tying the small letter tightly to its leg.
The tawny owl gave a single, low hoot, spread its wings, and launched into the cool summer night, disappearing over the London rooftops.
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TO BE CONTINUED
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