“What’ll you—” The barman looked up as the door opened.
Then his expression changed.
“…Why is it you?” The Hog’s Head wasn’t exactly lively, but there were more people inside than David had expected.
He genuinely couldn’t imagine what sort of person chose to spend an afternoon drinking here.
One thing was obvious, though.
Wealthy witches and wizards probably didn’t.
From the moment James and David entered, their clothes alone made them stand out from everyone else in the room.
The barman’s reaction didn’t help either.
He looked less like a man welcoming customers and more like someone who had just spotted a debt collector.
James ignored the hostility.
After sweeping his gaze across the pub, he led David to the bar and sat down.
“Is that really how you greet an old friend, Aberforth?” “Who said we’re friends?” Aberforth Dumbledore wiped a glass with a filthy black rag and set it down in front of James.
“I’d rather not have your business at all.” He gave James’s clothes a disdainful glance.
“A grand lord like you should be drinking at the Three Broomsticks.
Madam Rosmerta would suit you much better.” “But you can’t actually throw me out, can you?” James tapped the bar beside the glass.
“Firewhisky.” Aberforth stared at him for several seconds before reluctantly reaching for a bottle behind the bar and pouring a drink.
“You’d better finish that quickly and get out.” He shoved the glass over.
“You’re disturbing my customers.” “Here?” James glanced around at the collection of suspicious-looking patrons filling the pub.
Then he leaned closer and lowered his voice.
“They like goats too?” Aberforth’s hand slammed down over James’s glass.
“You swore you’d never mention that again!” He glared at him through clenched teeth.
“What exactly do you want?” “Relax, Aberforth.” James released the glass and pointed towards David, who was currently inspecting what appeared to be a preserved shrunken head.
“My grandson.” “David.” James smiled.
“He’s hoping to transfer to Hogwarts and enter third year.” Aberforth looked over at David.
James continued.
“And as you know, I’m not particularly close to Headmaster Dumbledore.” “No.” Aberforth straightened.
“I can’t help you.” James opened his mouth.
“And don’t try using that to threaten me again.” Aberforth leaned across the bar and lowered his voice into an angry growl.
“You know perfectly well that I have nothing to do with him.” James studied him for a moment.
Then spread his hands.
“All right.” “I understand.” He stood.
“Still, it was good seeing you again, Aberforth.” Aberforth looked deeply unconvinced.
James beckoned to David.
“Come along.” David followed his grandfather towards the door.
He could feel Aberforth watching him.
Not merely watching, either.
Studying him.
David paid it no mind.
Outside, he glanced once more at the grimy sign hanging over the entrance before climbing into the carriage.
“He really doesn’t like you.” James settled into the seat opposite him.
“No.” He looked through the window towards the Hog’s Head.
“He’s simply shy.” David’s mouth twitched.
Of course.
He decided to change the subject.
“What is Hogwarts actually like?” “How does it compare with Durmstrang?” James turned back towards him.
“Oh, you’ll have to decide that for yourself once you’re there.” He smiled.
“For now, we’re going somewhere considerably more pleasant.” “The Three Broomsticks.” David raised an eyebrow.
“Another pub?” “A much better one.” July passed quietly.
For the entire month, the castle was occupied mainly by David and his grandfather.
Not that David was particularly lonely anymore.
James had finally allowed him access to the family library.
It wasn’t as enormous as a school library, but that hardly meant it was small.
For the first time, David truly understood what centuries of accumulation could mean for an old magical family.
Books filled shelf after shelf.
Not merely modern school texts, either.
Old journals.
Spellbooks.
Histories.
Alchemy volumes.
Family records.
And works David had never even heard of.
When he wasn’t reading, James dragged him all over the British wizarding world.
Diagon Alley.
Knockturn Alley.
Wizarding villages like Hogsmeade.
Sometimes they went drinking.
Sometimes James visited old acquaintances.
Other days meant long walks, hunting trips, or formal dinners where David had to remember every piece of etiquette Mary had drilled into him since childhood.
David gradually discovered that British wizarding society was far livelier than it had first appeared.
You simply had to belong to the right circles.
After a month of visits and socialising, he also began to understand that everyday wizarding life didn’t revolve around magic nearly as much as outsiders might expect.
Wizards who genuinely knew how to enjoy themselves had no shortage of entertainment.
Arguments didn’t always become duels.
In fact, many witches and wizards seemed remarkably poor at combat magic.
A disagreement in a pub was often settled the Muggle way.
One punch.
One kick.
Perhaps a chair if things became serious.
Then both parties returned to their drinks sporting matching black eyes.
James’s reputation was complicated.
Some people welcomed him warmly.
Others greeted him through gritted teeth.
But nobody ever quite shut the door in his face.
Perhaps because it was difficult to remain genuinely hostile towards a retired old man who had become so bored that he spent half his time wandering around showing off his grandson.
Then came the last day of July.
Barclay entered David’s study carrying a letter delivered by owl.
“For me?” David accepted the envelope with surprise.
“From Pansy?” She was one of the few people who even knew where to send him mail.
Barclay shook his head.
“No, Young Master.” “It’s from Hogwarts.” David’s eyes sharpened.
“Really?” “Thank you, Barclay.” He broke the seal immediately and unfolded the parchment.
At the top was a familiar crest.
HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorcerer, Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards David paused.
That was already a ridiculous number of titles.
He kept reading.
Dear Mr David Rowle, We are pleased to inform you that your transfer to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry has been approved.
Enclosed you will find a list of all books and equipment required for the coming school year.
Term begins on 1 September.
We await your owl no later than 31 July.
Yours sincerely, Minerva McGonagall Deputy Headmistress David read the letter twice.
Then once more.
“So it really happened.” “Is that from Hogwarts?” David looked up.
James had appeared in the doorway without him noticing.
David nodded and waved the letter.
“So…” He raised an eyebrow.
“Is the Hog’s Head secretly Hogwarts’ admissions office?” James laughed.
“No, David.” “You’ve misunderstood something.” He took the letter from David and skimmed it.
Then nodded approvingly.
“Looks like you’ll need some new equipment.” His gaze shifted from the parchment to his grandson.
“New school robes, for one thing.” “Probably best to have someone experienced take you shopping.” “I can stay here.” David leaned back in his chair.
He had spent quite enough time wandering around Britain lately.
Right now, he wanted some peace.
“I could answer the letter from home.” He pointed at the heading.
“Or perhaps investigate why the Headmaster needs this many titles.” James smiled.
“If that interests you…” He lifted one hand.
A thick hardback book flew from a nearby shelf and landed open on the desk.
Great Wizards of the Twentieth Century.
James flipped through several pages before stopping at an entry.
“Here.” David leaned closer.
Barnabus Finkley Prize for Exceptional Spell-Casting… British Youth Representative to the Wizengamot… Gold Medal for Groundbreaking Contribution at the International Alchemical Conference in Cairo… David stopped.
“Alchemy?” He looked up sharply.
“You said you were an alchemist.” He tapped the page.
“Did you ever win this award too?” James’s expression changed.
Only slightly.
But David noticed.
And suddenly, the question seemed far more interesting than Hogwarts.
Add it to your Collection so you never miss a new chapter.
Add to Collection.
Send your Power Stones.
Keep reading.