In a small city in China.
Sunlight broke through the clouds and spilled across the empty street.
An old-fashioned Western-style carriage stood by the roadside, and behind it, a silver-haired elderly British gentleman was arranging the luggage.
He waved the wand in his hand, and the luggage on the ground rose into the air by itself, drifting gently onto the carriage and stacking neatly in place.
At the front of the carriage stood a dark-haired boy of about fourteen or fifteen.
He was stroking the neck of one of the Thestrals pulling the carriage, occasionally using the wand in his other hand to prod at the Thestral’s nose.
The Thestral being petted gave its head a gentle shake and let out a pleased snort.
“Just wait a little longer.
Once George arrives, we can set off.” The old man finished what he was doing and walked toward the front of the carriage, giving the boy rubbing the Thestral’s chin an apologetic look.
“It’s all right, Professor Fig.
It’s only a short wait.” The boy stopped and smiled at Professor Fig.
“You have been practicing the spell I taught you earlier, haven’t you?”
“Of course, Professor.” The boy gave the wand in his hand a light wave, his eyes full of confidence.
“To be honest, I’ve never seen a student adapt so well to someone else’s wand.
Once you get your own, you should be able to draw out even greater power,” Professor Fig said with admiration.
“It’s a shame we don’t have time to practice more spells.
The rest will have to wait until you arrive at Hogwarts.”
With a series of sharp cracks, a round-faced man in glasses appeared out of thin air in front of them.
His back was turned, and he looked around for a moment before turning and spotting Professor Fig.
“Ah, Eleazar!”
“George.” Professor Fig stepped forward and shook George’s hand.
“I’m sorry my letter was so vague, but I’m very glad you managed to find us.”
“No problem.
It’s not the first time I’ve used Apparition to get to some strange place.” George shrugged.
“Though I have to say, this is the first time I’ve gone somewhere this far away.
It did take me several tries to find it.
Hopefully I didn’t scare the muggles too badly.”
“To be honest, it did take some time.
When I received the owl, I thought…”
“Eleazar.” George raised a finger to his lips, cutting Professor Fig off as he looked around warily.
“Best not to talk about that here.”
“Ah, yes, of course.
Then let’s continue this on the way.
We still need to stop by Diagon Alley to pick up a few things anyway.”
Professor Fig walked to the carriage and turned back to beckon George over.
The carriage door opened automatically to one side.
“Good idea.” George’s gaze shifted to the boy standing nearby.
“As long as this…
young friend doesn’t mind.”
“Ethan, sir.
Just call me Ethan.” The boy made an inviting gesture.
“Please, go ahead.
I hope I won’t disturb you.”
The three of them boarded the carriage and took their seats.
The coachman sitting on the roof flicked the reins, and the Thestrals leapt into the air, pulling the carriage up into the sky until it vanished among the clouds.
…
The carriage raced freely above the sea of clouds.
Ethan sat beside Professor Fig, leaning against the window as he watched the clouds outside rush past.
“So, who exactly is this Mr.
Ethan?” George sat in the seat opposite them, leaning forward as he studied Ethan with curiosity.
“A new student at Hogwarts,” Professor Fig said by way of introduction.
“A new student?” George raised an eyebrow.
“At his age?”
“Yes, sir.
I’m a fourth-year new student,” Ethan replied, turning his head toward George.
“Fourth year?
You mean the new student whose admission was specially approved by the Ministry of Magic and Headmaster Dumbledore?”
“Mm-hmm.” Professor Fig nodded.
“Ah, very nice to meet you, Mr.
Ethan.” George held out his hand.
“Allow me to introduce myself properly.
My name is George Osric, and I also work at the Ministry of Magic.”
“It’s an honor to meet you as well, Mr.
Osric.” Ethan reached out and shook George’s hand.
“Just call me George.” George released his hand.
“I’ve heard about what happened to you.
It may only have been a small-scale ritual in the Far East, but the sheer madness of it…
Well, the fact that you survived at all is truly remarkable.”
“George!
Enough.” Professor Fig cleared his throat and cut the conversation short.
“That’s enough.
As the first new student ever to enroll directly in the fourth year, Ethan has received special attention from Headmaster Albus Dumbledore.
Since I work nearby, he specifically asked me to introduce Ethan to the basics of the wizarding world and help him catch up before the start of term, so he can keep pace with the other third-years as much as possible.”
“Then you have nothing to worry about.
I’d wager you couldn’t find a better mentor than him.” George winked at Ethan.
“Professor Fig is an excellent teacher, and as a wizard, he has a very sharp eye for people.”
“George truly does have a natural gift for words.
It’s no exaggeration to say that this is one of the main reasons he has risen so steadily through the Ministry of Magic.” Professor Fig chuckled at Ethan.
“Oh, right.
Back to the matter at hand.
You need to take a look at this, Eleazar.”
George reached behind him and took out a green cylinder with both ends protruding outward.
The entire cylinder had a metallic sheen, and its opening mechanism was clearly visible.
It was obviously a container meant to hold some kind of object.
“I received this a while ago.
It was delivered by…
your wife’s owl, but there was no return address.”
“Miriam?” Professor Fig exclaimed.
“That’s impossible.
Miriam disappeared a year ago.”
“The problem is, I can’t open this box at all.
There must be extremely powerful Magic cast on it.” George handed the box to Professor Fig.
“Most likely to guard against certain entities.”
Professor Fig took the box and examined it carefully.
Ethan also leaned closer, studying the box with curiosity.
“It looks like some kind of Goblin Metal.” Professor Fig tapped the box lightly with his finger, then placed his fingertip on a pattern in the center of it.
“And these symbols…”
The symbol was made up of three twisted lines woven together, giving off an ancient and mysterious impression.
Then Ethan suddenly saw a faint white light glow from the symbol.
“Am I seeing things?” he wondered, rubbing his eyes before looking at the symbol again.
The light was still flickering, slowly flowing along the lines of the symbol like water.
“Professor, why is this box…
glowing?” Ethan asked, sounding a little confused.
“Glowing?” Professor Fig turned the box over and examined every inch of it.
“I don’t see anything glowing.”
“Neither do I,” George said from across from them.
“Professor, may I…?”
“Of course.” Professor Fig handed the box to Ethan.
Ethan took the box in both hands.
The glow on its surface grew brighter, and the light began to flow faster.
As if guided by something unseen, Ethan placed his finger on the surface of the symbol almost unconsciously and gently traced the path of the flowing light.
There was a crisp click, and the box opened.
Inside lay a silver metal key, cushioned by a soft blue-green lining.
The key’s handle was shaped like the symbol on the box, and its shaft was engraved with fine lines.
“By Merlin!
How did you do that?” George stared at him in disbelief.
“I…
I don’t know.” Ethan shook his head and reached for the key.
“Wait!” Professor Fig caught Ethan by the wrist.
“We still don’t know whether it’s safe.”
With his other hand, Professor Fig took several pairs of white gloves from his side and handed a pair each to George and Ethan.
“Put these on first.
They have protective Charms on them.”
“Looks like you still haven’t shaken your old habits from your archaeology days.” George took the gloves and raised an eyebrow.
Ethan accepted the gloves with one hand, set the box on his lap, and after putting them on, carefully lifted the key out of the box and examined every part of it.
When he turned the key to a certain angle, the markings on its shaft gave off a faint white glow.
The light raced through the grooves, gradually joining together piece by piece into some kind of symbol.
“It’s glowing again!
Same as before.
It looks like some kind of symbol!”
“A symbol?
What shape is it?” Professor Fig asked at once.
“I’m not sure.
It’s still changing…
Wait, it stopped.” Ethan looked at the pictographic characters formed by the light, his expression turning strange.
“…It looks like Chinese.”
“Chinese?” Professor Fig and George looked utterly incredulous.
“What does it say?”
“Uh…
Grin…
gotts…
twelve.
Gringotts Number 12.” Ethan slowly made out the characters, then said it with certainty.
“Gringotts Number 12?” Professor Fig and George exchanged a puzzled glance.
“What’s wrong?
It isn’t some nonexistent address or anything, is it?” Ethan lowered the hand holding the key and handed it back to Professor Fig together with the box.
“Gringotts is a wizarding bank.
It’s in Diagon Alley, which is where we’re going next,” Professor Fig explained, taking the box and key from Ethan and putting them away.
“Number 12 should be the twelfth underground Vault,” George added.
“And one of the earliest ones.”
“In any case, we’ll have to make a trip to Diagon Alley.” Professor Fig looked out the window.
“Look, we’re here.”
The carriage passed through the clouds, and from high above, Ethan could see all of London through the window: streets in a classic English style, the River Thames, Elizabeth Tower, the Palace of Westminster, St.
Paul’s Cathedral, Buckingham Palace, Tower Bridge…
Those landmarks stood out sharply from the air.
“So this is London?” Ethan pressed his forehead against the window, gazing outside with a trace of excitement, like a child on his first trip away from home.
Professor Fig looked at the curious youngster beside him and thought back to everything he had been through.
A few pangs of pity rose in his heart, and he could not help sighing quietly to himself.
“That’s right, my boy.
This is London.” Professor Fig smiled and patted Ethan on the shoulder.
“Welcome to Britain.”