Every morning, Aegeus practiced his magic, conducting teleportation training in the garden before anyone else woke— short hops from the oak tree to the garden shed, then back, as if trying to dodge an imaginary enemy's spells. He also practiced a lot of other simple charms he had found described well enough in the books he read.
Hermione had taken to raiding his meager book collection every chance she got. Hogwarts: A History, which she had picked up out of curiosity one afternoon and hadn't fully put down since— carrying it to breakfast, to the garden, propping it open against the teapot at dinner.
From there she moved on to whatever else looked promising. A battered copy of Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century, then A History of Magic, which was almost as thick as she was tall.
"You do know you are still three years early, right?" Aegeus said one afternoon, finding her cross-legged on his bedroom floor, three books open around her like a small fortress.
"I know," Hermione said, not looking up. "But I want to be ready!"
The other part of the summer was Diagon Alley.
He had nagged his father to drive him back within the first week.
"You do know I have a job to get to, right?" Adam sighed, keys in hand.
"Your sacrifice will not be forgotten," Aegeus offered, his face a picture of absolute sincerity.
Hermione came along more often than not, delighted at any excuse to wander the alley again, though her attention scattered across every shop window while his stayed fixed on one destination.
Flourish and Blotts became something like a second home.
He worked through the shelves— Charms, then Transfiguration, then further back into the advanced sections. He made short work of the pages.
A dense text that would have taken a normal person a week to parse took him under an hour, the logic and structure of each subject fixed into place as fast as he could turn pages. By the end of the summer he had been through more books than he could count.
But he bought exactly one book each trip.
Each visit, he would settle on something modest-looking— a slim volume, unremarkable— and carry it to the counter while the clerk rang him up without comment. Just to keep appearances.
"You still only brought one?" Hermione asked, eyeing the thin paperback in his hands as they left one afternoon— something on basic Herbology, already digested a long time ago.
"I like to keep a varied collection," Aegeus said smoothly.
She didn't look convinced, narrowing her eyes as she clutched her own newly purchased copy of The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection.
The book contained information about a couple of magic creatures, like hags and redcaps, and simple ways to deal with them, not necessarily magical. For example, in case of encountering a werewolf in the wild, the author's primary advice was to run and never look back, preferably faster than the other people with you.
Finally, the time came to September 1st.
[Name] Aegeus Granger
[Age] 11 years
[Strength] 14
[Intelligence] 20 (Max)
[Magic] 16
[Defense] 13
[Control] C-
skills
(Ordinary Skills — collapsed, previously maxed)
Linguistics level 2 (90%)
Spells: Level 1 (80%) Charms: Level 1 (45%) Transfiguration: Level 1 (26%) Potions: Level 1 (12%) Astronomy: Level 6 (23%) Arithmancy: Level 8 (31%)
Because of the close relationship between Arithmancy, Astronomy, and their Muggle counterparts, those two subjects had climbed faster than the rest— practically overnight.
Arithmancy was a vital subject for spell creation and curse-breaking. It was, at its core, assigning numbers to magical constants and running the results through complex equations— calculating the optimal width and shape of a wand movement, or the precise phrasing an incantation needed for the spell to actually work, where to slow down and which letter you have to emphasize.
He closed the window with a thought and started preparing to depart.
Trunks packed, cages secured, and robes were put on neatly.
The Granger family arrived at King's Cross Station well before the morning rush reached its peak. Adam lugged Aegeus's heavy trunk toward the barrier between platforms nine and ten, glancing between the numbers on the walls with a skeptical frown.
"Nine and three-quarters," Adam muttered, checking his watch. "Ten minutes to eleven, the professor said you have to run really fast towards the pillar.
One platform had a large plastic sign with a '9' on it, and the other platform had a large plastic sign with a '10' on it, with naturally nothing in between. But they knew that Platform 9¾ was behind the dividing wall between the two.
The time of parting had arrived.
Adam smiled and waved goodbye to his son. Jean, however, turned away, her shoulders trembling.
Hermione looked up at him, her eyes shining with a rare blend of envy and intense determination. "Three years," she reminded him quietly. "Don't learn everything before I get there!"
"I make no promises," Aegeus said, a faint smirk touching his lips.
"Well, goodbye then."
He stepped up to the trolley, aligned his path directly with the center of the divider, and accelerated into a steady run. He didn't flinch as the dark red brick wall rushed toward him, though the same couldn't be said for Jean, who flinched as he charged toward the solid pillar.
The air instantly shifted— smelling of coal smoke. A wrought-iron archway bore the words "Platform 9 ¾" in bold lettering above it. Before him sat a magnificent scarlet steam engine chugging thick plumes of smoke over a crowd packed with robes, pointed hats, squawking owls, and chatter.
As he stepped into the narrow corridor, the bustling noise of the train seemed to hit a sudden stop.
He moved through the train with a graceful stride, his dark robes swishing around his ankles. Students leaning out of their compartments to shout to friends on the platform froze mid-sentence. Eyes widened. Whispers broke out in his wake.
"Who is that?" a third-year girl gasped, clinging to her compartment window, staring openly.
"Is he a Veela? He has to be part-Veela..." a boy further down muttered, pointing with a finger as Aegeus passed.
"Look at his eyes... he doesn't even look real!"
Aegeus flicked his gaze across the faces lining the hall. His flawless skin and noble features made him look less like an eleven-year-old boy and more like an ancient, perfectly sculpted marble statue brought to life. He ignored the open staring, the hushed giggles.
He reached the very end of the carriage, sliding open the door to a completely empty compartment.
Stepping inside, he shut the glass door behind him, drawing the thin curtains to block out the eager faces still peering through the corridor windows. He lifted his heavy leather trunk into the overhead rack and placed the cage of his tawny owl beside it.
Outside, the scarlet steam engine let out a sharp, deafening whistle. The train shuddered, the platform began to slide away, and London vanished behind a plume of white coal smoke.
_________________________________________________________________________
TO BE CONTINUED
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