Alaric Vale was not an ordinary man. At twenty-one, he had already built one of the largest technology companies in the world, turning algorithms and innovation into a global empire. His net worth was whispered to be more than ten billion dollars, and yet, he lived far from the spotlight, hidden beneath an unassuming mask of quiet genius.
But Alaric carried another secret—one even greater than his wealth. He was a time traveler. Born into a family that acted like simple farmers, he had never questioned why their estate carried such a deep, ancient aura or why the stars seemed to bend differently above their lands. His parents had always urged him to live humbly, to work as though he were ordinary.
Until the morning the letter arrived.
A thick parchment envelope, sealed with a crimson crest, lay on his desk. The words "Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry" were written in fine calligraphy. For most, it might have been dismissed as a joke. But Alaric knew better—he could feel the energy radiating from the parchment itself, tugging at the very fabric of reality.
His heart raced. Finally. The world I read about as a child—the wizarding world—is real.
When Professor Minerva McGonagall herself arrived at his estate to deliver the news, Alaric greeted her in a tailored suit, his excitement barely concealed.
"You must be Mr. Vale," Minerva said, her sharp eyes narrowing. "You accepted the letter quickly. Most Muggle-borns require… convincing."
Alaric only smiled. "I've been waiting for you, Professor. Time has a way of bringing people together."
Her brows furrowed, sensing something unusual in him. The air shifted, pressing down with invisible weight. Minerva straightened, trying to gauge him. Such presence… this boy is no ordinary genius.
But before she could speak, the atmosphere around them shattered.
A deep, crushing pressure flooded the room. The walls groaned. The very light dimmed. Minerva's wand hand twitched, her instincts alert.
From the shadows of the manor's hall, a figure emerged. Tall, cloaked in robes of silver thread, his eyes burned with a depth that dwarfed even Dumbledore's. His aura alone made Minerva stagger back a step.
"Alaric," the Elder spoke, his voice like thunder veiled in calm. "You have been touched by destiny sooner than expected."
Alaric froze, his mind reeling. Who is this man? Why do his words feel like they have always been waiting for me?
Minerva gasped softly, realizing what stood before her. This was no wizard she recognized. This presence was beyond the Ministry, beyond Hogwarts, beyond even Dumbledore's reach.
And Alaric's parents, still disguised as simple farmers, looked on silently… knowing the truth they had hidden for so long was finally breaking free.
The boy who thought himself a genius of technology was about to learn—
he came from a family that could buy the Earth a thousand times over,
and their Elders were power itself, cloaked in secrecy.
The world of magic had just shifted.