As the greatest British wizard of the century, Albus Dumbledore held many roles beyond just being the Headmaster of Hogwarts. Every day, his schedule was packed with responsibilities.
Yet even at over a hundred years old, he remained energetic and capable, always able to handle his complex affairs with impressive efficiency… most of the time.
Still, there were things that even his wisdom and power could not solve—things for which he had no perfect answers.
For example, how to raise a child.
Despite having been a headmaster for so many years, some students still left him scratching his head.
Harry Potter, the boy entering Hogwarts this year?
Of course not. Though Harry might seem disconnected from the wizarding world, Dumbledore had always kept an eye on him. He understood the boy well, and with some subtle guidance, everything would proceed smoothly.
No, the one who truly troubled him was another child.
"Roger Virgil…"
Roger had been thrilled when Dumbledore confirmed that he was indeed a wizard.
But the things Roger did afterward left Dumbledore more than a little concerned.
The very first thing Roger busied himself with after the trial was arranging a funeral for the parents of the body's original owner.
Dumbledore, naturally, couldn't stand by and watch an eleven-year-old boy handle such things alone.
He sent someone he trusted to assist Roger—not only to help but also to observe.
By watching Roger's actions, they could gain a deeper understanding of his inner world.
And the result…
"Ah…" Dumbledore sighed.
Friends of both his father and mother came to pay their respects at the funeral. But Roger didn't interact much with either group.
To Roger, this was normal.
They hadn't seen each other in years and were already somewhat estranged. Besides, Roger had inherited someone else's body—it was difficult for him to treat the original owner's family as his own.
In Roger's eyes, it was better to leave things be, to part ways quietly and fade into the distance. Though his trial was over, the troubles surrounding him were not.
Whether it was enemies from the past or ones yet to come, none were the sort that ordinary Muggles with modest means could handle. Since he had already meddled with fate by inheriting this body, he figured the least he could do was not burden the original owner's relatives further.
But to Dumbledore, it looked like the boy was rejecting familial bonds entirely—that the war's effects had not faded, even after he regained his freedom.
His gaze drifted to a pair of wool socks in the corner. Dumbledore's mood grew heavy.
Old men tend to be sentimental. They can't help but be drawn into memories.
A child hurt by Muggles, who in turn hurt Muggles to protect himself. A prophet. A boy of great talent and uncommon thinking…
A sister. A father. A close friend. A student who lost his way… In Roger, Dumbledore saw too many familiar shadows.
Too many painful memories he would rather forget.
He didn't want to see past tragedies repeat themselves in a new form.
Dumbledore hoped Roger would walk the right path, live a good life.
But as someone standing at the top of the wizarding world, he didn't have the energy or time to care for Roger directly.
Just as he had entrusted Harry Potter's care to his trusted friend Hagrid, Dumbledore entrusted Roger to someone else he could rely on.
.
"Transfiguration is taught separately from most other spells because its fundamental nature is quite different from regular magic?" Roger looked up as he read from his school supply list.
On the way to the Leaky Cauldron, Roger asked questions nonstop like a curious child entering a new world.
"Not just the fundamental nature—even the way spells are cast is different," Professor McGonagall replied without pause. She was used to young wizards being full of questions.
Most of them, once they began studying at Hogwarts and experienced how difficult magic truly was, would gradually lose that curiosity. They'd become students studying only for exams.
Only a rare few retained their thirst for knowledge—who spent their time and energy exploring magical subjects far beyond what would ever be tested.
"Most spells apply a magical property to the target. For example, a minor hex might cause 'swelling,' a curse could cause 'death,' or a general spell might add 'heat' or 'levitation.'"
"But Transfiguration changes the physical properties of an object—its size, structure, density, or even its very existence."
"The difference in casting is subtle but significant. With most spells, the goal is to 'make the target become XX.' With Transfiguration, it is to 'turn the target into XX.'
It sounds similar, but once you've studied magic in depth, you'll understand the vast difference." Since she was speaking to a student who hadn't yet started school, McGonagall kept her explanation simple.
Watching Roger's thoughtful young face, Professor McGonagall felt a tinge of helplessness.
They had spent a lot of time together preparing the funeral. In her eyes, Roger didn't act like an eleven-year-old.
He was always deep in thought—an analyzer, always calculating.
To her, Roger was a thinker.
Only when he encountered magic did he truly act his age—his eyes bright with wonder, his curiosity overflowing, like a child who had just received a brand-new toy.
Before starting Hogwarts, students had to purchase the required textbooks for their year, new uniforms, cauldrons for Potions, wands, and pets.
If one parent was a wizard, they usually accompanied their child.
But if both parents were Muggles, the task of guiding the child into the magical world fell to Hogwarts staff.
Harry Potter, for example, had been introduced to the wizarding world by Hagrid, the half-giant.
Roger's entire family were Muggles.
So, when it came time to buy his school supplies in Diagon Alley, he too needed a guide—the location of Diagon Alley was magically hidden, and no one could enter without a wizard's help.
Roger's guide was none other than one of Dumbledore's most trusted colleagues: Professor Minerva McGonagall, Head of Gryffindor House and Professor of Transfiguration at Hogwarts.
With the Leaky Cauldron now in sight—just a few minutes' walk away—Professor McGonagall turned to Roger.
"Roger, what do you plan to do after graduating from Hogwarts? Join the Ministry? Return to the Muggle world? Or…"
If she had asked this question to any other child about to start Hogwarts, most would not have had a concrete answer.
But after spending so much time with Roger, McGonagall was certain he already knew.
And indeed, as she expected—
Roger gave her a clear answer.