It was preposterous.
How could an eleven-year-old child have mastered Transfiguration to that degree?
Yet Dumbledore had confirmed it.
He might enjoy doing the unexpected, but McGonagall had worked with him for years.
She could tell when he was joking.
This wasn’t one of those occasions.
Incredible though it seemed, she had to believe him.
‘I understand your astonishment, Minerva,’ Dumbledore said with a sigh.
Her reaction plainly came as no surprise.
‘I felt much the same when I saw the clearing.
Rather more so, perhaps.’
He glanced at the open letter on her desk.
‘Miss Granger wrote to you, I take it?’
McGonagall nodded.
‘She wants advice on Transfiguration.’
‘Ah.
A determined child.
Rather like you at her age.
I suspect yesterday was something of a blow to her.’
He paused.
‘But natural talent isn’t everything.
What matters most is that she doesn’t lose faith in herself.’
McGonagall understood.
He wanted her to offer some encouragement in her reply.
Otherwise, the girl might begin to doubt her own abilities.
Pride could be surprisingly fragile.
Dumbledore considered something for a moment before continuing.
‘Since you’ve heard about the boy, there is a little more I ought to tell you.
You’ll find out sooner or later.’
McGonagall regarded him questioningly.
‘The journey I mentioned,’ he said quietly, ‘concerns him.’
‘The boy?
What is the matter?’
It had been years since she had seen Dumbledore look quite so much at a loss.
‘Until recently, his name was Black Grin.’
‘Yes.
I remember the name.’
Black Grin had been amongst them.
‘Look at the book again.
You’ll understand.’
Dumbledore’s expression grew serious.
‘I’ll tell you more when I return.
Until I have confirmed a few things, anything else I could say would be speculation.’
‘Very well.’
She was intensely curious, but there was little point pressing him when he was uncertain himself.
She could only hope that whatever he was investigating would not bring trouble.
The magical world had enjoyed precious few peaceful years.
After Dumbledore left, McGonagall considered the matter briefly, then set off for the tower that housed the Book of Admittance.
She had never needed to visit it twice in one year before.
The book opened.
‘Black Grin…’
She stopped.
‘Grin… Grindelwald?’
Her gaze fixed on the newly added letters.
One hand rose to her chest.
Grindelwald.
No wonder Dumbledore had looked as he did.
Was the child a descendant of that man?
And why hadn’t the book recorded his full surname before?
Apparently, she would have to wait for Dumbledore’s return to learn the answers.
Black was eating breakfast and reading Hermione’s letter when the system spoke.
[Shock detected.]
[Chest draw in progress.]
[Gold Chest obtained ×1.]
The spaghetti slipped off his fork.
Another one?
Whoever had sent that deserved his heartfelt thanks.
He regarded the Gold Chest in delighted surprise.
Hermione?
Surely not.
He hadn’t done anything to annoy her today.
Even if she was astonished by something, that alone wouldn’t earn him a chest.
The emotion had to concern him.
Otherwise, the system wouldn’t bother responding.
Had he known, he would have wanted to run straight to Hermione’s house and plant a couple of grateful kisses on her.
What a treasure.
She didn’t merely produce chests herself.
She persuaded other people to produce them too.
‘Lovely.’
One Bronze Chest and one Gold Chest waited in his storage space.
Black was in an excellent mood.
‘Perhaps I ought to buy a lottery ticket.’
He hurried through the rest of his breakfast and returned to his room.
‘System, open the Bronze Chest.’
He had decided it was best to open rewards in private.
If anything appeared in front of him as the Ancient Magic had the night before, he would struggle to explain it over breakfast.
[Opening Bronze Chest.]
[50 Galleons obtained.]
‘Oh?’
Fifty gleaming gold coins had appeared in a system inventory.
An inventory?
He hadn’t seen that before.
At a thought, one of the Galleons appeared in his hand.
Black examined it eagerly.
His first physical reward.
The money itself wasn’t what excited him most.
This proved that the chests could contain objects as well as skills and aptitudes.
And there was something else to test.
With another thought, he sent the coin back.
It vanished from his palm and reappeared amongst the others.
He picked up an old fountain pen from the desk and silently instructed the system to store it.
The pen disappeared.
When he checked the inventory, it was lying beside the pile of Galleons.
It worked.
Only now, with his first physical reward, had he discovered that the system included an inventory.
There was more to it than a space for unopened chests.
He could put his own belongings in there.
‘Oh, for— You useless system!
I knew you’d left out the bloody instruction manual!’