Wyzett broke the wax seal and unfolded the letter, his name printed in elegant script at the top of the Hogwarts acceptance letter.
After the day's magical whirlwind, excitement bubbled in his chest—so fierce he could hardly contain it.
He'd waited so long for this moment, hoping every day that the letter would finally arrive.
Alongside the acceptance letter was a thick piece of parchment: the Hogwarts supply list. No tuition was required to attend Hogwarts—students only needed to purchase their own books and equipment.
Coming from an orphanage in his previous life, Wyzett had developed a certain sensitivity—especially when it came to money. Whenever finances were involved, he couldn't help but grow extra cautious.
But another question burned even brighter in his mind. "Professor McGonagall, wasn't Luna's acceptance letter supposed to be delivered by you too?"
Professor McGonagall smiled gently. "She's not quite old enough yet. Next year, she'll be able to join Hogwarts as a first-year."
Wyzett turned to Luna. "Then why did you make me call you 'sister'?"
"I've always wanted a little brother to look after," Luna replied, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "And I've done my duty as a big sister, haven't I?"
McGonagall raised her wand, and the iron cage containing the Runespoor floated unsteadily into the air, drifting to her side.
"I need to investigate why that snake appeared here at all."
"Investigate?" Wyzett's mind raced. "Professor, do you mean… this was a deliberate attack?"
McGonagall sighed. "Wyzett, you're an Obscurial. Other wizards will look at you differently—you do realize that?"
A dozen memories flashed through his mind. "Now that you mention it, I get it… They see me as an outcast, someone to keep at arm's length."
"In their eyes, I'm a walking time bomb. If I were a parent… I'd worry about my child's safety, too."
"You understand perfectly!" McGonagall adjusted her glasses, surprise and admiration glinting behind the lenses. "Like Headmaster Dumbledore, I have great confidence in you."
"You're a remarkably gifted child, and I look forward to seeing what you accomplish at Hogwarts. Don't trouble yourself about the rest—we'll handle everything."
"Oh! In a few days, you'll receive another letter. Someone will take you to Diagon Alley to buy everything you need for school."
With those final instructions, she and the iron cage vanished in a swirling vortex of magic.
Night had fallen. Just as Wyzett was about to mend a tear in his shirt, a knock sounded at the door.
"Come in!"
The door creaked open, and in stepped Xenophilius, Luna's father—a disheveled, eccentric-looking man.
His pale-gold hair hung in limp strands over his shoulders, looking perpetually unwashed. Deep shadows ringed his eyes, giving him an air of gentle exhaustion.
He pulled up a chair and sat across from Wyzett. "This seems to be our first… real conversation, doesn't it? Mending your clothes?"
"I tore them by accident." Wyzett set down his needle and thread.
It was true—they'd never really spoken face-to-face before. Xenophilius was the editor-in-chief of The Quibbler, usually holed up in his study on the second floor. He handled meals and bedtime stories for Luna, juggling work and family as best he could.
"Luna's told me everything," Xenophilius said, his expression suddenly serious. "You protected her… I wanted to thank you."
"She protected me, really." Wyzett waved it off. "She pushed me out of danger first. Professor McGonagall saved us both in the end."
The usually scatterbrained Xenophilius seemed almost unfamiliar in his new seriousness.
"No, no, no!" he insisted, shaking his head. "Because of my work, I can't spend much time with her. Most days, she's left to her own devices."
"Besides reading The Quibbler, she waters the garden. But since you arrived, she's been smiling more… Even the Plimpies she catches are fatter!"
Wyzett laughed. "I've learned a lot from Luna."
"In any case!" Xenophilius stood up, suddenly regal. He placed a hand on Wyzett's shoulder, as if knighting him. "Whatever the Ministry's reasons for placing you here… I accept you now!"
Wyzett couldn't help but smile, both amused and deeply moved.
For the first time, he realized something important—today, he and the Lovegoods had truly accepted each other as family.
Late that night, the fire in the headmaster's office at Hogwarts crackled and flared emerald green. Professor McGonagall stepped out of the Floo, brushing soot from her robes.
Dumbledore set aside his papers and rose to greet her. "Minerva, you're back late. Did something happen?"
"There were… complications," McGonagall replied, adjusting her glasses. "When I went to deliver the acceptance letter, I ran into a Runespoor."
Dumbledore frowned. "A Runespoor? Wyzett wasn't harmed, was he?"
"He's perfectly fine." McGonagall nodded. "I've already asked Kingsley to investigate. We should know more soon."
"That Runespoor was quite old. By the time I handed it over to Kingsley, it had already died. Anyone capable of keeping a Runespoor isn't just anyone."
"My guess is, whoever released it wanted to provoke the Obscurus—stir up trouble and draw more suspicion toward the boy."
"As expected," Dumbledore sighed. "But I imagine Wyzett surprised you?"
"He did. He's exceptionally gifted!" McGonagall allowed herself a rare smile. "Not only did he avoid the attack, he protected Luna Lovegood as well."
"Luna Lovegood? So it's even more complex than I thought." Dumbledore crossed to a cabinet and withdrew an ancient stone basin.
The rim was etched with countless mysterious runes, and inside swirled a silvery substance—neither liquid nor gas, but something dreamlike and mesmerizing.
"The Pensieve?" McGonagall drew her wand, touched it to her temple, and extracted a shimmering strand of memory.
The silver thread fell into the Pensieve and dissolved. Dumbledore leaned over, immersing his face in the swirling silver.
When he finally straightened and replaced the Pensieve, his fingers steepled and his face thoughtful.
"Wandless magic… No, even older than that. It's the sort of spellcasting wizards used before wands became common. Remarkable!"
McGonagall nodded in agreement. "I sensed an incredibly pure protective will in that shield charm. Would you call it self-taught?"
"Perhaps a little guidance helped as well." Dumbledore smiled. "Cornelius was lucky—he found the perfect wizarding family for Wyzett."
McGonagall sounded a touch resigned. "If it's about cultivating imagination, The Quibbler certainly does the job."
"Indeed!" Dumbledore's smile grew. "Minerva, which House do you think Wyzett will be sorted into?"
~~~❃❃~~~~~~~~❃❃~~~
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