Surrey, England.
Inside an old manor, sharp cracks echoed through the air again and again.
There was no bizarre Muggle chemistry experiment going on.
The noise came from a boy throwing punches so fast and hard that each swing made the air pop.
If you ignored his face, there was no question that the figure training in the room belonged to a grown man—a very strong one, at that.
His broad shoulders and powerful physique looked completely at odds with the youthful features that made it obvious he was still only a child.
“Master Leo.” An elderly butler with snow-white hair opened the door.
“Professor Snape has arrived.” “Right on time.” Leo picked up a towel and wiped the sweat from his face.
“I do hope my esteemed professor can forgive his poor Squib student for troubling him outside our regularly scheduled lessons.” The old butler fell silent for two full seconds before answering.
“Master, I am begging you.
Learn Potions from Professor Snape if you must, but please stop learning how to talk from him.” “Fine.
I’ll only do it when I’m talking to him.” Leo shrugged, tossed the towel aside, and headed for the door.
“Come on.” In the manor’s drawing room sat a tall, thin man dressed entirely in black robes.
Greasy black hair framed a pale face whose habitual expression suggested that the world had personally offended him.
“Oh, my most respected Professor Snape—” “What do you want?” Snape cut Leo off before he could finish.
“Professor Snape,” the old butler said, stepping in before Leo could make matters worse, “in the interests of saving everyone’s time, perhaps I should explain.” Snape gave a silent nod.
“We have developed a plan that will allow the master to attend Hogwarts.” For perhaps the first time that evening, Snape’s expression slipped.
“You intend to send this miniature troll to Hogwarts?” He drew a slow breath and turned toward the butler.
“Frisia, has he finally driven you insane?
I told you from the beginning that even I cannot brew a potion capable of turning a Squib into a wizard.” “There you go, getting worked up again.” Leo calmly lifted his teacup and took a sip.
“We have a very thorough plan.” “Once we confirmed that the master was a Squib, I began preparing several contingencies,” Frisia explained.
“Potions were only one avenue.
I also adopted several children of wizarding descent who were the same age as the master, and I gave every one of them the name Leo William.” Snape frowned.
“That is your solution?” “The Book of Admittance records the name and date of birth of every magical child who may eventually attend Hogwarts.
It is the only reliable record determining which children will be invited and when.
The Ministry of Magic has no independent method of detecting every magical birth in Britain, nor does it have the authority to inspect Hogwarts’ records at will.” Frisia paused.
“And I happen to be exceptionally skilled with the Confundus Charm.” “Even assuming you can fool the Book of Admittance, how exactly do you intend to fool Dumbledore?” “Would Dumbledore really care that much?” Leo spread his hands.
“Everyone knows Hogwarts only has one real school rule: whatever you do, it’s fine as long as nobody catches you.
I’m only borrowing someone else’s identity to attend school.
It’s not as though I’m murdering classmates, secretly researching the Unforgivable Curses, or raising XXXX-class magical creatures in my bedroom.
Does anyone really need to make such a fuss over it?” He took another leisurely sip of tea.
“And if all else fails, I can always cling to Dumbledore’s robes and beg.
He’s supposed to be a good man, isn’t he?
Surely he wouldn’t want my Squib status exposed so some distant relatives could swoop in, get rid of me, and help themselves to the William estate.” Snape gave a contemptuous scoff.
“Dumbledore?
A good man?” Then he glanced at Frisia, and a trace of wariness entered his eyes.
“And you are worried about what will happen if people discover you are a Squib?” “All right, fine.” Leo’s shoulders slumped as he put on a mournful expression.
“The truth is, I simply want the chance to experience the wizarding world for myself.
Even if I’m destined never to become a real wizard, at least I’ll be able to say I once walked through Hogwarts.
Then I can go through the rest of my life without regrets…” Snape rose from his chair without a word and turned toward the door.
“Wait, wait!” Leo abandoned the act immediately.
“Fine.
I think Hogwarts is supposed to be one of the safest places in Britain, so there ought to be a few people there who can actually give me a decent fight.” After being reincarnated, Leo had quickly realized that he had somehow ended up in the world of Harry Potter, and from that moment on he had looked forward to entering the magical world.
Unfortunately, when he reached the age when most magical children began showing signs of accidental magic, something entirely different happened to him.
His body began growing stronger at an abnormal rate.
Before long, his physical abilities had surpassed not only those of other children his age but what should have been possible for an ordinary human being.
Some time ago, Frisia had invited several accomplished Muggle martial artists to spar with him.
Very few had managed to last more than a handful of exchanges with him.
To keep word of Leo’s abnormal abilities from spreading, the old butler had been forced to alter their memories with Memory Charms afterward.
“Oh.” Of all the explanations Leo had offered, this one sounded by far the most ridiculous.
Unfortunately, Snape knew him well enough to suspect it was probably the truth.
“Anyway, don’t worry,” Leo said.
“I still have one last trump card if everything else fails.” “Very well.
Let us assume every stage of this absurd scheme succeeds.” Snape sat back down, his expression as unpleasant as ever.
“What exactly do you intend to do after you arrive?
The Sorting Hat will probably assign you to Filch’s broom cupboard.
And in most classes, there will be very little practical difference between you and a troll.” “What about Potions?” Snape paused.
“…Slightly better than a troll.” “All right, then.
Let me ask you something else.
Does Hogwarts expel students for failing their exams?” “No.” “There you have it.” Leo spread his hands.
“If they won’t kick me out, then by any reasonable calculation, there are basically no consequences.” More than ten minutes later, Snape left the manor wearing an expression sour enough to curdle milk.
“That concludes the preliminary preparations,” Frisia said.
“Barring any unforeseen problems, you should indeed be able to enjoy some semblance of school life at Hogwarts.” He paused.
“Though judging by my own calculations, I doubt it will last very long.” “Could you have a little faith in me?” “Master, I say that precisely because I have far too much faith in you.” By dusk, a fluffy owl was winging its way toward the manor, the setting sun casting a faint golden sheen across its feathers.
“There it is.” Frisia raised a hand toward the approaching owl and sent a Confundus Charm streaking through the air.
“Hoo…” The owl wobbled slightly in mid-flight before descending and dropping a thick brown envelope of parchment into the old butler’s waiting hand.
Frisia turned it over.
A wax seal adorned the back of the envelope: a large letter H at the center of a shield, surrounded by a lion, an eagle, a badger, and a snake.
A rare trace of nostalgia entered the old man’s eyes.
“Hogwarts… It has been a long time.” “Frisia, are you truly going through with this idiocy?” A portrait hanging on the wall suddenly spoke, its voice shrill and unpleasant.
“He is a Squib!
You intend to send a Squib to Hogwarts?
Are you determined to disgrace the William family completely?” Many wizarding families regarded Squibs as a source of shame, and the old pure-blood families were often the worst of them.
The kinder families simply kept their Squib relatives hidden at home, denying them contact with the outside world so that no one would ever learn they existed.
Others sent them away to be raised by Muggles and washed their hands of them entirely.
The most extreme families simply killed them.
The Williams belonged firmly to the last category.
Had Leo’s father not been killed by Aurors during the First Wizarding War after choosing to follow Voldemort, Leo would almost certainly have been murdered the moment the family confirmed that he was a Squib.
“You are dead,” Frisia said coldly.
“Try behaving like it and talk less.” His gaze never left the envelope in his hand.
“I obey only my master’s orders, and I have only one master—Leo William.” “You will regret this!” “Master Leo is the head of the William family!” Bang!