Chris sat at the mahogany table in the manor's grand dining area, his breakfast barely touched as his eyes drifted repeatedly toward the window. July first. The date had been circled in his personal calendar for months, starred and underlined, the day his Hogwarts letter would arrive. Six months of intensive preparation had brought him to this moment, and despite knowing exactly what the letter would contain, his heart still fluttered with anticipation like the wings of a Snitch.
Sunlight streamed through tall windows, casting long rectangles of gold across the polished surface of the table. His plate of eggs and toast had gone cold, the tea beside it releasing only the faintest wisps of steam. The dining table, sensing his distraction, had twice attempted to refresh his breakfast, until he'd firmly requested it stop. Food was the furthest thing from his mind today.
"Master should eat," came Jilly's melodic voice as she appeared with a soft pop beside the table. "Even momentous days require sustenance."
The head elf wore her tea-towel toga with the dignity of a queen wearing royal robes, the Ambrosia crest embroidered on it freshly pressed and gleaming. Her amber eyes studied Chris with the fond exasperation of someone who had spent months watching him push himself to exhaustion and back again.
Another crack announced Bouncy's arrival, the excitable elf materialising mid-bounce on the opposite side of the table. "Today's the day-day-day!" he sang, performing a little pirouette of delight. "Master Chrissy gets his Hoggy-warts letter! Bouncy has been counting the sleeps!"
Despite his nerves, Chris smiled. "I've been counting too, Bouncy."
"Sixty two more sleeps until Master goes to school," Bouncy continued, his patchwork uniform fluttering as he hopped from one foot to another. "But Bouncy isn't sad-crying no-no! Because Master will visit on special holidays and…"
"Perhaps let Master finish his breakfast before planning his entire academic schedule," Jilly interrupted gently, snapping her fingers to warm Chris's neglected meal.
Chris picked up his fork with renewed purpose, suddenly aware of his hunger. As he took a bite of eggs, a flash of movement outside the window caught his attention. A bird, its feathers reflecting the morning sun like burnished gold, circled once over the manor's grounds before angling toward the dining room window.
"It's here," Chris whispered, setting down his fork as anticipation coiled in his stomach.
The golden-feathered owl swooped through the open window with practiced grace, its wingspan impressive as it banked around the chandelier before landing lightly on the table. Clutched in its beak was a thick parchment envelope, the red wax seal bearing the unmistakable crest of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
The owl dropped the letter directly in front of Chris, then took a moment to preen its magnificent feathers, looking expectant.
"Thank you," Chris said, breaking off a piece of bacon from his plate and offering it to the bird. The owl accepted the treat with a dignified bob of its head. "You're from the Gringotts mail-redirect service, aren't you?"
The owl hooted once in confirmation, its intelligent eyes regarding Chris with what almost seemed like approval. The Gringotts mail-redirect had been functioning perfectly, ensuring all correspondence reached him while maintaining the secrecy of Ambrosia Island's location.
Chris picked up the envelope, running his fingers over the heavy parchment. Despite knowing its contents, despite the foreknowledge from another lifetime, the weight of the letter in his hands felt significant, the physical manifestation of this world becoming truly his.
"Go on, Master Chrissy!" Bouncy encouraged, now practically vibrating with excitement. "Open-open-open!"
With careful movements, Chris broke the seal and withdrew several pieces of parchment. Clearing his throat, he began to read aloud:
"HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY
Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore
(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)
Dear Mr. Emrys,
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 September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31.
Yours sincerely,
Minerva McGonagall
Deputy Headmistress"
Chris's fingers trembled slightly as he set down the acceptance letter and picked up the supply list. He scanned it quickly, standard first-year requirements: robes, pointed hat, protective gloves, winter cloak, coursebooks, wand, cauldron, phials, telescope, brass scales. At the bottom, the familiar reminder that first-years weren't allowed their own broomsticks.
"A rule I fully intend to have broken," he murmured with a small smile, remembering Harry Potter's special permission to join the Quidditch team.
"Congratulations, Master," Jilly said, her voice warm with genuine pride. "Though there was never any doubt of your acceptance."
"Hoggy-warts won't know what hit it!" Bouncy declared, performing an impromptu dance around the table. "Master Chrissy is going to be the bestest-smartest-most-powerful wizard they've ever seen!"
Chris folded the letters carefully and returned them to the envelope. "I've prepared as much as possible," he said, thinking of the hundreds of hours spent studying, practising wandwork, training his body, and learning about magical creatures.
Jilly, interrupting Chris's musings. "The time has come, Master. Now that you have received your official acceptance, you are ready for the First Maturation Ritual."
Chris looked up sharply. This was new, something not mentioned in any of the books or memories from his previous life. "Maturation Ritual?"
"A secret Ambrosia tradition," Jilly explained, her tone solemn. "Performed before each heir begins formal magical education. It has been... waiting for you."
Bouncy's eyes grew impossibly larger. "Oh! The special-secret-ancient ritual! It hasn't been done in forever-ever-ever!"
Chris pushed back from the table, his interest piqued. "What exactly does this ritual do?"
"It would be best to discuss as we walk," Jilly suggested. "The Room of Requirement will need specific preparation."
As they left the dining room and moved through the manor's corridors, Jilly explained in her measured tones: "The magical core of a wizard typically matures in stages, at eleven, seventeen, and maybe again at an unknown time. These correspond to the beginning of magical education and coming of age."
"I've read about magical cores," Chris said, recalling texts from the manor's extensive library. "But nothing about accelerating their development."
"Such knowledge is closely guarded by the oldest families," Jilly replied. "The Ambrosia line discovered methods to hasten the process, ensuring their heirs reached their full potential more quickly than their peers."
They turned down the corridor leading to the Ambrosia Room of Requirement, their footsteps echoing against marble floors.
"The ritual will advance your magical core to its second stage of maturation," Jilly continued. "Your magical reserves will deepen, your casting will strengthen, and your ability to learn complex spells will increase dramatically."
Chris's mind raced with the implications. "Will there be physical changes as well?"
Jilly hesitated briefly. "Yes, Master. Your body will age to match your magical development, approximately fifteen or sixteen years in appearance, though your chronological age remains unchanged. A glamour artifact will allow you to maintain your eleven-year-old appearance in public."
"This seems..." Chris searched for the right word, "significant. Why wasn't it in any of Merlin's journals I've read?"
"The ritual instructions are passed down only through house elf memory," Jilly explained as they reached the door to the Room of Requirement. "Merlin believed some knowledge was too dangerous to record, even in his private writings."
Chris paused at the door, his hand on the unadorned wooden surface. "Is it dangerous?"
"All power comes with risk," Jilly answered simply. "But you are prepared. You are worthy. You are Ambrosia."
Chris nodded, resolve hardening his features. Whatever challenges lay ahead at Hogwarts, he would face them with every advantage his heritage could provide. He pushed open the door to the Room of Requirement, ready to take the next step in claiming his destiny.
The empty stone room awaited them, grey walls bare and floor unadorned. Chris stood in the centre, feeling the subtle magic of the space humming around him, responsive and alert to his needs. The Room of Requirement had served him well these past months, becoming library, training ground, and laboratory as needed. Today, it would become something far more ancient, a vessel for power that had remained dormant for a millennium.
Jilly stepped forward, her small form suddenly commanding in the empty space. "You must visualise the ritual chamber, Master," she instructed, her voice echoing slightly against the stone walls. "Close your eyes and picture a circular chamber designed for the First Maturation Ritual of House Ambrosia."
"But I've never seen it," Chris pointed out, his brow furrowing. "How can I imagine something I don't know?"
"Your blood knows," Jilly replied simply. "The memory of the chamber lives in your lineage. Trust that knowledge to guide your thoughts."
Chris closed his eyes, feeling somewhat foolish. How could his blood remember a room? Yet as he stood in silence, strange images began to form in his mind, a circular space, stone walls curved in perfect symmetry, a domed ceiling etched with constellations, and most importantly, a floor inscribed with runic patterns that seemed to pulse with dormant energy. The vision grew clearer with each passing second, details emerging as if being recalled rather than invented.
When he opened his eyes, the transformation stole his breath. The Room of Requirement had reshaped itself into the exact chamber he had visualised, down to the smallest detail. The circular walls rose around them, formed of dark stone that seemed to absorb light rather than reflect it. Overhead, the domed ceiling displayed astronomical alignments, stars and planets positioned in arrangements that Chris somehow knew were significant to the ritual.
Most impressive was the floor, now an expansive canvas of intricate runic work. Concentric circles of symbols had been carved into the stone, each ring containing progressively more complex patterns that overlapped and intertwined. The outermost circle was perhaps twenty feet in diameter, while the innermost measured barely three feet across. At the very centre stood a flat stone altar, just large enough for a person to lie upon.
"The chamber recognises you," Jilly said with satisfaction, her amber eyes reflecting the subtle glow that had begun to emanate from the floor etchings. "Now we must prepare the components."
She moved toward a stone shelf that had appeared along one wall, upon which sat four containers of different materials. Chris followed, peering at the items with a mixture of fascination and trepidation.
"The First Maturation Ritual requires four elements of exceptional magical potency," Jilly explained, lifting the first container, a crystal box within which something dark red pulsed rhythmically. "An Eastern Dragon Heart, freely surrendered at death. It grants strength and enhances the magical core."
Chris stared at the box, mesmerised by the impossible sight of a heart still beating outside a body. "How can it still be alive?"
"Dragon hearts can beat for thousands of years after removal if properly preserved," Jilly said, carefully placing it at the easternmost point of the outermost runic circle. "This one was gifted to Merlin himself by an ancient dragon who knew its time had come."
She returned to the shelf and selected a small silver phial sealed with wax. "Phoenix tears," she continued, "collected during a burning day. They represent rebirth and renewal, ensuring your body can withstand the transformation." This container she placed at the southern point of the circle.
The third item was a silken pouch tied with golden thread. "Wampus cat hair," Jilly said, "from a beast that can walk unseen and penetrate the minds of its prey. It will expand your mental capacities and cleanse your thoughts during the transition." The pouch went to the western position.
Finally, Jilly picked up a crystal decanter containing a liquid so silvery-white it seemed to glow from within. "Unicorn blood," she said solemnly, "freely given in moonlight without coercion or harm. Unlike blood taken by force, which carries a terrible curse, this purifies magic and stabilises transformations." She placed this precious substance at the northern point, completing the cardinal placements.
"Unicorns allowed their blood to be collected?" Chris asked, remembering the beauty and purity of the creatures he had encountered in the sanctuary.
"For Merlin, yes," Jilly nodded. "The alliance between House Ambrosia and magical creatures runs deep. What would be impossible for others was freely offered to your ancestor."
With the components placed, Jilly turned to Chris with an expression both solemn and expectant. "Now, Master must prepare himself. The ritual requires direct contact between magic and flesh. You must remove your clothing."
Despite his adult mind, Chris felt a flush of embarrassment creep up his neck. After a moment's hesitation, he began to undress, folding each garment neatly and placing them outside the outermost circle. The stone floor felt cool against his bare feet as he stepped toward the centre, guided by Jilly's gesturing hand.
"Sit in the innermost circle," she instructed, "cross-legged, with hands resting palm-up on your knees."
Chris obeyed, lowering himself onto the stone. The cold surface sent a shiver up his spine that had nothing to do with temperature. From this position, the runic circles surrounded him like ripples in a pond, their subtle glow intensifying with each passing moment. He felt simultaneously vulnerable and powerful, exposed physically yet on the verge of something transcendent.
"What happens now?" he asked, his voice quieter than intended.
Jilly walked the perimeter of the outermost circle, her fingers tracing certain runes that brightened at her touch. "I will recite the ritual incantation in the ancient tongue," she explained. "You will repeat each phrase after me. The magic will build with each repetition, drawing power from the four elements into your core."
She paused, her expression grave. "I must warn you, Master. The ritual is not painless. As your core expands and your body transforms to accommodate it, you will experience significant discomfort."
"Pain I can handle," Chris said with more confidence than he felt, remembering the agony of his death in his previous life. Surely nothing could compare to that.
"The incantation has four parts of four lines each," Jilly continued. "We will complete each section before proceeding to the next. If at any point you feel you cannot continue..." She hesitated.
"What happens if we stop midway?" Chris asked.
"Unpredictable results," she admitted. "The magic, once begun, must be guided to completion. An interruption could lead to magical instability."
Chris nodded, understanding the warning. "I won't stop," he promised, squaring his shoulders despite his nakedness and vulnerable position.
His heart pounded heavily against his ribs, a drum keeping time with some ancient rhythm that seemed to beat through the very stones beneath him. The runes around him glowed brighter now, deep blue light outlining each symbol with increasing definition.
Jilly took her position just outside the outermost circle, directly north near the unicorn blood. She closed her eyes, drawing a deep breath that seemed to centre her entirely. When she opened them again, they shone with an intensity Chris had never seen in the dignified elf.
"We begin," she said simply, her voice taking on a resonance that filled the chamber. "Repeat after me, and let the magic of your bloodline awaken."
Jilly's voice rose in the circular chamber, the ancient words flowing from her lips with practised precision despite the ritual having laid dormant for generations. The language was neither Latin nor Greek, but something older, syllables that seemed to resonate with the very stones around them. As her first phrase hung in the air, the runes beneath Chris's bare skin brightened from soft blue to electric sapphire, awaiting his response.
"Kareneth suvara melinon eth," Jilly intoned, her normally melodic voice deepened with power and purpose.
Chris repeated the phrase, the strange words feeling oddly familiar on his tongue, as though his mouth had been shaped to speak them. "Kareneth suvara melinon eth."
The innermost circle of runes flared brilliantly as his words activated them. A tingling sensation crept up from the stone floor through his crossed legs, like gentle electricity seeking entrance to his body.
Jilly continued, her eyes fixed on a point above Chris's head. "Ambrosia verin nektar uth."
"Ambrosia verin nektar uth," Chris echoed, and the second circle of runes awakened, their glow intensifying.
"Merileth sorven aktun ra."
"Merileth sorven aktun ra." The third circle blazed to life, and Chris felt the tingling spread throughout his lower body, transforming from gentle stimulation to something more insistent, almost uncomfortable.
"Etherna volun sirath mek."
Chris completed the first verse with a voice that had begun to tremble slightly. "Etherna volun sirath mek."
As the final words of the first section left his lips, the Eastern Dragon Heart at the eastern position of the circle began to pulse more rapidly, its beating syncing with Chris's own heartbeat. The crystal box containing it cracked with a sound like splintering ice, yet instead of spilling out, the heart rose into the air, suspended by unseen forces, its beating now audible in the chamber.
Jilly moved clockwise to stand by the Phoenix Tears, beginning the second verse without pause. The rhythm of her words changed, becoming more fluid, like water flowing over stones.
"Kirath melvi soraneth vel."
Chris repeated each line, his voice growing stronger rather than weaker as the magic built. With each phrase, the sensation in his body intensified, the tingling becoming a steady vibration that reached from his toes to his scalp, making his teeth chatter between responses.
As the second verse completed, the silver phial of Phoenix Tears shattered, its contents rising in jewel-like droplets that hovered and spun, catching the blue light from the runes and refracting it into rainbow patterns across the chamber walls.
The third verse brought a change in Jilly's voice again, sharper, more commanding. The Wampus Cat Hair rose from its silken pouch as Chris repeated the ancient words, individual strands separating and beginning to orbit the chamber like satellites around a planet, their paths crossing and weaving complex patterns above his head.
By the time they reached the fourth and final verse, Chris's entire body hummed with gathered power. The cool stone beneath him had warmed to match his rising body temperature. Sweat beaded on his forehead, yet he felt simultaneously feverish and chilled. The unicorn blood was the last component to activate, its crystal decanter dissolving rather than breaking, the silvery-white liquid forming perfect spheres that joined the orbiting elements above.
"Ambrosia karath suvereth mak," Jilly intoned, beginning the final section with words that included his family name.
"Ambrosia karath suvereth mak," Chris repeated, his voice now resonating with a harmonic undertone, as though multiple voices spoke through him.
"Ethun varith selva nak."
"Ethun varith selva nak." The orbiting magical components moved faster, their paths tightening into a swirling vortex directly above him.
"Merinoth saveth ekal ru."
"Merinoth saveth ekal ru." Chris felt his body lifting slightly, no longer in contact with the stone floor but hovering an inch above it, suspended by the ritual's growing power.
Jilly's voice reached its peak volume for the final line, her small form somehow filling the chamber with sound: "VERITAS AMBROSIA ETERNUM EST!"
"VERITAS AMBROSIA ETERNUM EST!" Chris shouted in response, the words erupting from him with a force that surprised even himself.
The swirling vortex of magical components, dragon heart, phoenix tears, wampus cat hair, and unicorn blood, collapsed inward upon itself, forming a blindingly bright sphere of pure magical energy. For one breathless moment, it hovered above Chris, pulsing like a second sun. Then it descended, enveloping him completely in a cocoon of light and raw power.
Pain.
Immediate and overwhelming. Every cell in his body seemed to ignite simultaneously. Chris would have screamed, but his lungs refused to function, locked in the grip of the transformation. His bones ached with the deep, grinding sensation of rapid growth, lengthening and thickening as his skeletal structure matured years in seconds. Muscles stretched and tore, only to heal stronger and more defined, wrapping his new frame in power he had never possessed in either life.
His skin burned as it stretched to accommodate his new dimensions, nerve endings firing signals of agony to a brain that was itself undergoing metamorphosis. His skull felt too small, pressure building behind his eyes as neural pathways multiplied and connected in new configurations. Knowledge he had studied but not fully comprehended suddenly clicked into place, magical theories becoming intuitive rather than academic.
At the center of his chest, something that was neither heart nor lung but his magical core itself expanded like a balloon, pushing against his insides as it grew from a candle flame to a roaring bonfire. Power coursed through veins that had never known such intensity, magic seeking outlets that his untrained body couldn't yet provide.
Through the haze of transformation, Chris was dimly aware of his physical changes. His legs stretched, adding inches to his height. His shoulders broadened as his chest deepened. The childish softness of his face melted away, cheekbones becoming more pronounced, jaw squaring, features sharpening into handsome maturity.
His white hair, already distinctive with its electric blue streaks, grew rapidly past his shoulders, the blue becoming more vibrant, weaving through the white like lightning through storm clouds. His eyes burned as they shifted, the already striking sapphire deepening to a blue so intense it seemed to generate its own light.
The transformation reached its peak, magic spiralling through every part of him, rewriting the very essence of his being. His chronological age remained eleven, but his body and magical core accelerated to match a wizard of sixteen, the edge of adulthood in the magical world, the cusp of full power.
With a final surge that arched his back and drew a silent scream from his lips, the ritual completed itself. The cocoon of magical energy compressed inward, forcing its way into his body through every pore, through his open mouth, through his eyes and ears, magic becoming flesh, power becoming blood.
Then, silence. The runes faded back to dormancy. The levitation ended, dropping Chris's transformed body onto the stone floor with a dull thud. The magical components had been completely consumed, leaving no trace of the dragon heart, phoenix tears, wampus cat hair, or unicorn blood.
In the centre of the circle lay not the eleven-year-old boy who had entered, but a young man on the verge of adulthood. Unconscious, his breathing shallow but steady, his new body exhausted by the radical transformation it had undergone.
Jilly approached cautiously, her small hand reaching out to check his pulse. Finding it strong and regular, she nodded with satisfaction.
"The ritual is complete," she whispered to the empty chamber. "Lord Ambrosia has reached his Second Maturation."
With a snap of her fingers and a soft pop of displacement, both she and the unconscious Chris vanished from the ritual chamber, leaving behind only the fading warmth of ancient magic and the whisper of power that had changed a boy into something more.
Consciousness returned to Chris in layers, like a diver slowly ascending through depths of dark water. First came sensation, the soft embrace of his bed, so different from the hard stone of the ritual chamber. Then awareness of his body, though it felt wrong somehow, proportions altered, weight distributed differently, skin pulled taut over unfamiliar contours. Finally, memory flooded back, the ritual, the pain, the transformation. His eyes snapped open, immediately registering that even his vision seemed sharper, colours more vibrant than before.
Sunlight streamed through the partially drawn curtains of his four-poster bed, catching in his hair that lay spread across the pillow, longer now, the blue streaks more pronounced against the white. He raised a hand to touch it, startled by the size and definition of the limb that responded to his command. His forearm bore muscle where once there had been the softness of childhood, veins visible beneath skin that now stretched over a frame made for power rather than innocence.
Chris pushed himself up, the movement feeling strange as his centre of gravity had shifted. The silk sheets pooled around his waist, revealing a chest that belonged to someone years older than eleven, defined pectorals, abdominal muscles that looked like they saw countless hours in the gym, shoulders broadened by the ritual's magic. He was naked, as he had been during the ceremony, but the body he now inhabited was unrecognisable compared to the one he'd shed.
With cautious movements, he swung his legs over the edge of the bed. They were longer, the muscles of his thighs and calves sculpted as if by years of athletics rather than months. Standing, he felt dizzyingly tall, as though someone had placed the world on a lower shelf overnight. The floor seemed further away than it had any right to be.
A full-length mirror stood in the corner of his bedchamber, and Chris approached it with equal parts curiosity and trepidation. The reflection that greeted him stole his breath. A young man of perhaps sixteen gazed back at him, his white hair cascading past his shoulders, shot through with electric blue streaks that seemed to glow with inner light. His face, once softly childish, had sharpened into angular handsomeness, high cheekbones, a strong jawline, and his eyes... his eyes were the most startling change of all.
Always blue, they had transformed into something extraordinary, sapphires that seemed lit from within, gleaming with a preternatural brightness that marked him as something more than merely human. They were eyes that commanded attention, that would be impossible to forget once seen.
His body had transformed equally dramatically. Where once stood a child on the cusp of adolescence now stood a young man in his prime, tall, muscular but lean, with the build of a swimmer or runner rather than a bulky weightlifter. The Ambrosia bloodline had expressed itself fully, creating a physical form that matched the power of his magical heritage.
Chris turned sideways, still adjusting to his new dimensions. He couldn't help but notice that every aspect of his anatomy had matured proportionally, including parts that made him flush slightly despite his adult mind. If anything, he seemed more generously endowed than he had been in his previous life, another "gift" of the Ambrosia genetics apparently.
"I look like..." he began, his voice trailing off in shock at its deeper timbre. No longer a child's treble, his voice had dropped to a rich baritone that resonated pleasantly in his chest. "I look like a bloody underwear model," he finished, half-amused and half-alarmed.
The transformation was more complete than he could have imagined. If he walked down a street in this form, no one would connect him to the eleven-year-old Christopher Emrys who was supposed to be starting his first year at Hogwarts. He would pass for a sixth or even seventh-year student without question.
Two soft pops announced the arrival of Jilly and Bouncy. The latter's eyes widened to seemingly impossible proportions at the sight of Chris's transformed state.
"Master Chrissy is all grown up!" Bouncy squealed, bouncing so vigorously he nearly upset the breakfast tray Jilly carried. "So tall and strong and handsome-shiny-magical!"
Jilly maintained her dignity despite her companion's excitement, though her amber eyes reflected satisfaction as she surveyed the ritual's results. "The transformation is complete and successful, Master," she confirmed, setting the tray on a nearby table. "How do you feel?"
Chris ran a hand through his longer hair, still adjusting to the sensation. "Different. Stronger. Like my skin doesn't quite fit yet." He suddenly realised he was still completely naked. "And in need of clothes, apparently."
Jilly snapped her fingers, and clothing appeared neatly folded on the bed, larger sizes to accommodate his new dimensions. "Your body will adjust quickly," she assured him. "The discomfort of transformation typically fades within a day."
"Master's magic is much stronger now!" Bouncy exclaimed, practically vibrating with excitement. "Bouncy can feel it all around Master like a big warm blanket of power!"
Chris reached for the clothing, grateful to cover himself. The pants and shirt fit perfectly, as though they had been tailored for his new frame. As he dressed, he noted how much more coordinated his movements felt, as if his mind and body were in greater harmony than before.
"The ritual advanced your physical and magical development to approximately sixteen years," Jilly explained, pouring a cup of tea from the breakfast tray. "Your magical core has reached its Second Maturation, which typically occurs during a wizard's sixth or seventh year at Hogwarts."
"Does that mean I'll be able to perform higher-year spells?" Chris asked, buttoning the shirt that stretched across his broader shoulders.
"With proper instruction, yes," Jilly nodded. "Your magical capacity has expanded considerably. However," she added with a cautionary tone, "such advanced abilities would draw unwanted attention at Hogwarts from a supposed first-year student."
"Which brings us to an important matter," she continued, withdrawing a small box from her uniform. "You cannot attend Hogwarts in this form. Questions would be asked that have no satisfactory answers."
She opened the box to reveal a simple silver bracelet, elegant in its minimalism, etched with runes so small they were barely visible. "This is a glamour artifact, created by goblins for the Ambrosia. It will mask your true appearance, returning you to the form of an eleven-year-old child, or any age you will it to, in the eyes of others."
Chris took the bracelet, feeling the subtle magic that pulsed within its metal. "Will it affect my abilities?"
"No, Master," Jilly assured him. "The glamour affects only appearance, not substance. Your strength, speed, and magical capacity remain unchanged. Only your visible form alters."
Chris slipped the bracelet onto his wrist. The effect was immediate, a ripple of magic washed over him like a cool breeze. He turned to the mirror again and saw an eleven-year-old boy staring back at him, identical to his appearance before the ritual.
"Remarkable," he murmured, touching his face, feeling the angular contours of his actual features while seeing the softness of childhood in the reflection. "And no one can tell?"
"The goblin-wrought enchantment will withstand scrutiny from all but the most powerful wizards, however, there are none powerful enough in this age that can do it, not even Dumbledor" Jilly confirmed. "And should anyone attempt to remove it forcibly, it would simply appear to be an ordinary bracelet with sentimental value."
Chris turned away from the mirror, eating a slice of toast from the breakfast tray as he considered his next steps. "We need to visit Diagon Alley soon," he said between bites. "I need a wand, and the rest of my school supplies."
"Bouncy can take Master today!" the excitable elf offered, still staring at Chris with undisguised wonder. "The special day-day-day for getting Master's first wand! Maybe we will see other Hoggy-warts students too!"
Chris nodded, a smile playing at the corners of his mouth as he imagined the reactions his true form would generate. The glamour would hide his physical maturity, but nothing could mask the confidence that now radiated from him. With his enhanced magical core and the knowledge he'd accumulated over six months of intensive study, he would enter Hogwarts as far more than just another first-year student.
"Yes," he agreed, finishing his tea and standing to his full height, momentarily forgetting the glamour as he towered over the house elves. "Let's go to Diagon Alley. It's time I got a wand and took the next step in becoming who I'm meant to be."
Jilly nodded with approval, her eyes reflecting pride in what her master had become. "The wizarding world isn't prepared for you, Lord Ambrosia," she said softly. "And perhaps that is exactly as it should be."