[Note: Read up to Chapter - 33 on P patron at: p-atreon.com/Knockturn_Alley]
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Hogwarts – Headmaster's Office
As the stone gargoyle rotated aside and the spiral staircase turned, Professor McGonagall stepped through the large wooden doors into the headmaster's office.
"Albus, we've still not received a reply to the letter we sent to young Harry Potter. Shouldn't we send someone to check in? I have a bad feeling—something's not right over there."
"No need to worry, Minerva."
Behind the desk, Albus Dumbledore closed the thick tome in his hands and looked up, his voice calm and steady.
The piercing blue eyes behind his half-moon spectacles shone with intelligence and warmth. His long silver hair and beard made him instantly recognisable—a picture-perfect image of a wise old wizard.
Over by the bookshelf, Fawkes the phoenix lifted his head, glanced lazily at McGonagall, then went straight back to preening his feathers. He clearly wasn't too fussed about the conversation.
Dumbledore stood and began tidying his desk.
With a casual wave of his hand, the books floated up and gently returned themselves to their places on the shelves.
"That boy's been through more than most. We should've expected a bit of difficulty. I've already arranged for Hagrid to fetch him."
"It might take a bit longer than usual," he added, with a knowing smile and a twinkle in his eye that somehow made everything feel under control.
McGonagall raised an eyebrow, her lips pressed into a thin line.
"Hagrid? Are you sure he's the best one for such an important job?"
Professor McGonagall didn't look convinced. Her brow furrowed slightly.
She'd always felt that Hagrid, despite his kind heart, was a bit slow on the uptake when it came to certain tasks—and this one, in particular, felt too delicate.
"I'd trust Hagrid with my life, Minerva," Dumbledore replied, meeting her eyes with quiet seriousness.
"Believe me—in two months' time, you'll see that boy right here at Hogwarts."
"I do hope it all goes smoothly…"
McGonagall's voice trailed off as she glanced away, the worry still clear in her expression.
Then, as if something had just struck her, she stiffened slightly.
"Oh, that reminds me!" she said, her tone shifting to one of concern.
"A name suddenly appeared today on the admissions list—a descendant of the Shafiq family. We sent out the owl, and we've already received a reply."
"The Shafiq family?"
Dumbledore's expression sharpened ever so slightly, and a faint flicker of light passed behind his half-moon spectacles.
"That surname hasn't popped up in years. Are you certain?"
McGonagall gave a small nod, though doubt lingered on her face.
"Until that name appeared in the Book of Admittance, I'd assumed the Shafiq family had vanished completely. I mean, after all, back then—"
She paused, her expression softening into something almost sad.
Then she let out a quiet sigh.
Dumbledore's tone grew more serious.
"If the bloodline's shown up in the book, then there's no mistaking it."
McGonagall hesitated a moment longer, then asked quietly:
"Do you remember? The last two members of the Shafiq family disappeared without a trace. Just… gone. And there's been nothing—no word, no sign—since."
"Do you know anything about it?" McGonagall asked quietly.
"I mean… if anyone in the world does, it'd be you—or that mysterious one we dare not name."
She hesitated under Dumbledore's steady gaze.
"Of course, if you'd rather not say—"
"No need to be coy, Minerva," Dumbledore said gently.
"There's nothing to hide. The situation back then was... unusual. I couldn't make full sense of it myself. It felt like some form of ancient magic—something tied to time and space."
He paused, his eyes growing distant.
"That day, we witnessed a force unlike anything I've seen. Powerful. Mysterious. Even I couldn't properly decipher it."
A flicker of emotion crossed Dumbledore's face—reverence mixed with unease. Whatever memory he was reliving clearly left its mark.
McGonagall's brow furrowed slightly, a glimmer of shock in her eyes.
Even Dumbledore... confused?
That thought alone was troubling.
She knew just how vast his knowledge ran. If he couldn't understand it, then the force they'd witnessed must have been beyond extraordinary.
And that's what worried her most.
This child—Aris—might well be the final heir of the Shafiq family.
But truth be told, they knew next to nothing about him.
Nothing about where he'd come from, what he'd seen, or what he might become.
As if reading her mind, Dumbledore offered her a gentle, knowing look.
"Well then, Minerva... are you planning to go and meet the boy yourself?" he asked, voice thoughtful.
"Yes, Albus. I still think it's best if I meet the child myself," McGonagall said firmly.
"Very well," Dumbledore nodded, then paused as something crossed his mind.
"By the way… what's the boy's name?"
"Aris Shafiq."
"Hmm… a fine name," the silver-haired wizard murmured, nodding slowly as if rolling the name around in his thoughts. Whatever he was thinking, he didn't share it.
"Thank you for taking this on, Minerva."
Their conversation ended there. And even after Professor McGonagall's silhouette vanished behind the revolving stone door, Dumbledore remained in place—his expression pensive, layered with meaning.
He sat in silence for a while, eyes lost in thought.
Then, with a sudden motion, he looked up and gave a gentle wave of his hand.
The quill on his desk twitched, then sprang to life. With swift, fluid strokes, it began scribbling on a blank piece of parchment. Once finished, the letter folded itself neatly and slid into an envelope.
"Fawkes… if you would."
Dumbledore reached over and lightly stroked the phoenix's vibrant feathers.
Fawkes let out a soft trill, then picked up the letter in his beak. With a majestic flap of his flame-coloured wings, the bird soared out the window, streaking across the sky in a blur of red and gold until it vanished into the distance.
…
It was well into the night.
Aris lay in bed on the second floor of the black, cylindrical house. His eyes were closed, but sleep just wouldn't come. It was as if something unseen was buzzing in his veins, keeping his mind alert and wired.
Everything that had happened today felt like something out of a dream.
Even now, he wasn't entirely sure it was all real.
But then he glanced at the glowing system panel floating in his mind—and that alone reminded him it definitely wasn't a dream.
"This night's dragging on forever," he muttered, sitting up in bed and giving his head a light rub.
He couldn't wait for morning.
Because once the sun came up, a Hogwarts professor would be arriving.
Maybe it'd be Professor Snape—that gloomy one with greasy hair who always looked like he'd sucked a lemon. The one who constantly gave Harry grief in the books.
Or perhaps it'd be Professor McGonagall—stern on the outside, but always dead serious about protecting her students.
Whoever it turned out to be, Aris couldn't help feeling a bit excited.
Dinner earlier had been… well, different. Interesting, but not exactly a treat.
After being used to the flavour-packed food back in the East, he found Xeno's buttered bread and weird, earthy-tasting tea a bit hard to stomach. He hadn't even caught the name of the tea—just knew he wouldn't be asking for seconds.
He sipped a bit of water, then decided against trying to sleep again.
Instead, he reached for a book Luna had left on his bedside table.
It was the latest issue of The Quibbler—and Aris could already tell from the cover it was going to be a bizarre read.
But barely a minute had passed before the system pinged in his head:
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[Congratulations! You've read for 1 minute and earned 1 academic point.]
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[Note: Read up to Chapter - 33 on P patron at: p-atreon.com/Knockturn_Alley]