11th Birthday

As time passed, Yulian and Hermione grew closer. They discussed difficult questions from class, shared their favorite books, and occasionally walked together after school beneath falling cherry blossoms.

"Yulian, you'll be applying to secondary school after summer break, right? Which school are you planning to go to? Eton College or Merton College? Or are you applying directly to Oxford Preparatory?"

After school that day, Hermione walked side by side with Yulian along the pavement and couldn't help asking. This was already the Nth time she'd asked him. In her view, with Yulian's grades and family background, he was bound to choose one of the most prestigious private schools in the United Kingdom.

Yulian's steps faltered, and a mysterious smile curled his lips. "I'm keeping it a secret for now. You'll find out when the time is right."

Hermione frowned, clearly dissatisfied with his answer. "Why can't you tell me? Aren't we good friends?" Her voice held a trace of hurt and confusion. She'd been wondering whether she might attend the same secondary school as Yulian.

"Because we're good friends, I don't want to tell you just yet." Yulian turned to look at Hermione, his gaze earnest. "Trust me. You're in for a surprise."

Hermione met Yulian's firm gaze. Though she was full of questions, she also felt a curious spark of happiness.

The days went by, and the school term slipped away amid busy lessons and the occasional bit of fun.

The cherry blossoms on campus bloomed and faded, while the plane trees' leaves turned from tender green to deep green, then gradually to gold. Before long, final exams were over, and summer vacation was drawing near.

Hermione's eleventh birthday fell just before summer vacation. That day, she brought a beautifully made chocolate cake to school and shared it with her classmates. Yulian got a slice, too. It was sweet without being cloying, with a delicate texture. Clearly, she'd chosen it with care.

"Happy birthday, Hermione." Yulian took the cake and smiled. "May you always love learning, and may you receive a very special present."

Hermione's cheeks flushed faintly. She lowered her head and murmured, "Thank you, Yulian."

But after her birthday, Hermione seemed like a different person. She no longer asked Yulian about his secondary school plans as often as before. Even when he brought up the subject himself, she deliberately avoided it, glancing away and speaking awkwardly.

"Hermione, have you decided which secondary school you want to go to?" Yulian asked deliberately during a break one day.

Hermione's hand paused as she sorted her books. Her gaze wandered, and she mumbled, "N-not yet. Maybe I'll go to a state school nearby." With that, she picked up her books and hurried out of the classroom, as though she were running away from something.

Yulian watched Hermione hurry off, a knowing smile on his lips. He knew an owl had already flown over Hermione's home, and would soon fly over Privet Drive, too. No wonder she'd been so secretive lately. She probably thought there was no chance she'd attend the same secondary school as him.

Yulian didn't expose Hermione's secret. He knew that for a Muggle-born wizard about to enter the Magical World, the mixture of excitement and nervousness was hard to put into words.

He didn't want to ruin this special time that belonged to Hermione alone—and he wanted to surprise her when the time came.

(In his mind: Congratulations to Miss Hermione Granger. You have officially entered the "pre-Hogwarts enrollment anxiety phase.")

And what about him?

His grandfather had once said that as long as a child of the Black family wasn't a Squib, a Hogwarts letter might be late—but it would never fail to arrive.

Summer vacation came quickly. The students at St. George's Primary School cheered. At last, they could leave "boring, dreary" primary school behind, and they all began making plans for a fun holiday.

Thomas invited Yulian to join him for a seaside vacation, but Yulian politely declined. He knew he had more important things to look forward to that summer. His eleventh birthday was coming up, and with it, the letter of acceptance that was destined to arrive.

"Shilam, your eleventh birthday is coming up." One evening, his father, Altair, came into Yulian's room and sat down beside his bed. His voice was gentle. "What would you like for your birthday? The latest games console, or that telescope you've always wanted?"

Yulian looked up at his father's kind eyes and smiled. "Dad, I don't want anything. Grandpa said I'll get a special present."

Altair blinked and asked in confusion, "A special present? Is Grandpa or Grandma planning to give you something? How come I haven't heard about it?"

Yulian didn't answer. He only smiled mysteriously.

"Anyway, your grandparents will be back in a couple of days to celebrate your birthday," his father said with a laugh. "Then I'll find out. Their present might not be as good as the one your mum and I get you."

His mother, Clara, had also noticed how eager Yulian was. She didn't know what he was looking forward to, but she could sense that he was filled with a powerful longing.

She didn't ask any questions. Instead, she quietly prepared Yulian's birthday party and invited some family and friends, hoping to make it a birthday he'd never forget.

At his parents' suggestion, Yulian also invited some classmates he got along with. Most of them planned to apply to well-known private schools, and many would probably be his classmates in the future.

As for young Yulian's own school application, the old man had said he would take care of it personally.

However, Yulian's best friend, Hermione, had stammered out a polite refusal to his invitation, saying she had something important to take care of that day. She gave him an R.E.M. Out of Time vinyl record as an early birthday present.

August 3, 1991. Yulian's eleventh birthday party.

The family home on Charing Cross Road was festively decorated, filled with a joyful atmosphere. Relatives, friends, and classmates arrived one after another, bringing carefully chosen gifts and warm wishes.

The living room was stocked with all kinds of wine and soft drinks, and the air was full of the sweet scent of cake and fragrant flowers. Out of Time played in the background.

His grandmother, Elodie, had already complained three times. "This song sounds like the owls outside are squabbling!"

"No," Yulian insisted. "It's art!"

Really, he just thought the lyrics "Time ticks away" were especially fitting: the Hogwarts letter had to come soon.

The birthday boy wore a dark green suit, with a silver tie embroidered in a fine vine pattern—the exact match of his grandfather Alphard's. It was a "Black family heirloom," said to ward off minor Evil Curses, though Yulian suspected his grandfather was just bragging.

His grandparents had flown in from Bordeaux that morning, their suitcases packed with presents: an antique French pocket watch, a set of crystal wine glasses that sang, and a top-of-the-line Italian AGV motorcycle helmet—matte black, streamlined, and cool enough to make Dudley drop to his knees and call him "Boss."

"Happy birthday, little wizard." His grandfather winked and spoke in a voice only the two of them could hear. "I had the helmet lining fitted with a cushioning charm. Don't fly too fast on your broom—unless you want to crash into a Muggle passenger plane."

Yulian almost burst out laughing. Of course! It was a hint that he could finally start learning to fly!