Julien looked at the expected acceptance letter in his hands, then turned back in delight to look at his grandfather. Alphard wore a relieved smile as well. Although he had kept telling Julien that every member of the Black Family was destined to enter Hogwarts, only now did the stone in his heart finally settle.
Meanwhile, in the library within Julien's mindscape, the administrator, Murphy, lay lazily atop a pile of new books, his tail lazily swinging a quill back and forth.
The title of the book beneath him: Hogwarts Survival Guide
Several days had passed since Julien's birthday banquet. He had treasured the acceptance letter from Hogwarts in the hidden compartment at the very bottom of his bedside table, where it lay alongside the Willow Wand his grandfather had given him.
After dinner that day, the family gathered in the living room. Alphard cleared his throat, breaking the silence. "Altair, Clara, there's something we need to discuss."
Altair set down the financial newspaper in his hands, while Clara lifted her head from the ledger. "What is it, Father?"
"It concerns Shilam's school." Alphard's gaze was gentle yet firm. "I've already arranged a school for him—Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."
"Hogwarts?" Clara frowned and repeated the awkward name. "It sounds like some private boarding school in Scotland. Was it recommended by an old friend from your time in the United Kingdom?"
"No, dear," Alphard explained patiently. "It isn't an ordinary boarding school. It's a... Wizarding School."
As soon as he finished speaking, the living room fell into dead silence.
Altair stared blankly for a moment before bursting into hearty, bewildered laughter. "Father, how many glasses of that 'special brew' have you had today? A wizarding school? You mean a place that teaches children magic tricks and card tricks? Or is it like a circus, where they teach them to tame lions?"
Clara did not laugh, but her eyes were full of worry and confusion.
She looked at her son, her voice gentle yet tinged with reproach. "Shilam, did you tell Grandpa some strange stories? Magic, wizards... Those fairy tales are fine to listen to, but you mustn't take them seriously. Your future should be at Eton College, or somewhere like Oxford Cambridge."
Julien opened his mouth, wanting to say something in his defense, but his grandfather gently pressed a hand against his shoulder.
Only Grandma Elodie did not immediately give her opinion. She lifted her teacup and gently blew across the steam, her thoughtful gaze shifting back and forth between her husband and grandson.
As the daughter of the Morreau Family, she had heard some ancient rumors about "special people" in her youth. She had simply never witnessed them with her own eyes.
Now, seeing the unprecedented seriousness on her husband's face and remembering the special nature of their family's wine, she felt a ripple stir in her heart.
"This isn't a fairy tale, nor is it a trick." Alphard's voice turned solemn, carrying an unquestionable authority.
"Shilam has the blood of the Black Family flowing through his veins. He possesses genuine magical talent. Hogwarts is the only place that can teach him to control this power and grow up safely."
"The Black Family?" The smile vanished from Altair's face, replaced by a businessman's sharp scrutiny. "Father, I always thought that was merely an old surname. Could it be that our family has secrets I know nothing about?"
"The Black Family was once a wizarding family. Shilam is a wizard and needs to attend a Wizarding School."
"Oh my God, how is that possible?" Clara cried out.
"Yes." Unable to hold back, Julien spoke from the side. "I've already received my acceptance letter from Hogwarts." With that, Julien took out the parchment letter and placed it on the table.
"Couldn't this be a prank?" Altair said incredulously as he examined the letter. "Look, it even requires a cauldron. Isn't this something from hundreds of years ago?"
"Whether you believe it or not, I still hope you'll keep this matter secret for Julien's sake," Alphard said in a low voice.
"What, is this dangerous?" Clara's first thought was of her son's safety.
"You don't need to tell me. I wouldn't tell anyone that my son is a wizard, either. This is absurd!" Altair said.
Just as each member of the family was lost in their own thoughts and the argument was about to intensify, the doorbell rang.
"Ding-dong—"
The crisp chime sounded particularly abrupt in the tense atmosphere. Clara rose to open the door, still thinking that perhaps a package had been delivered to the wrong address.
An elderly woman in a dark green robe stood outside. Her hair was arranged in an extremely severe bun, and a pair of square spectacles rested on the bridge of her nose. Her eyes, seen through the lenses, were as sharp as an eagle's.
Her appearance seemed to freeze the air in the entire corridor.
"Good evening." Her voice was clear and crisp, carrying a hint of unquestionable authority. "Is this the home of Mr. Shiloh Yulian Black?"
Clara froze and nodded instinctively. "Yes. May I ask who you are?"
"I'm Minerva McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry." Professor McGonagall gave a slight nod. Her gaze passed over Clara and landed precisely on Julien in the living room, a probing glint flashing in her eyes.
"Hogwarts?" Clara cried out, turning to look at her husband and father-in-law.
Altair immediately rose to his feet, his face filled with wariness.
A stranger in a bizarre robe, claiming to have come from a "wizarding school," had paid them a late-night visit. However one looked at it, it seemed like a scam.
He strode to the doorway and positioned himself in front of his wife, his tone stiff. "Ms. McGonagall, I'm sorry, but we have no interest in this so-called 'wizarding school.' My son will receive a proper, scientific education. Please leave."
The corners of Professor McGonagall's mouth dipped slightly. Clearly, she was no stranger to this kind of Muggle arrogance. Her gaze shifted to Alphard, who was seated in the place of honor in the living room. He nodded at her, indicating that she could come in.
"Mr. Black," Professor McGonagall said, her voice still calm but now carrying a force that allowed no argument. "I know this is difficult to believe. But please allow me to prove that the 'proper, scientific education' you mentioned cannot explain what is about to happen."
As she spoke, she raised her hand. Without using a wand, she merely gave it a gentle wave.
The financial newspaper Altair had casually placed on the coffee table suddenly moved without any wind, its pages rustling loudly.
Then, under the horrified gazes of everyone present, the newspaper slowly rose into the air. It folded and flipped in midair, finally transforming into a lifelike crane!
The crane flapped its wings and flew one circle around the dumbfounded Altair before gently landing beside him.
"This... This is impossible!" Altair stood rigidly in place. He reached out and touched the crane beside him. Its delicate feathers and sharp beak felt so real that his scalp prickled.
Clara covered her mouth, her eyes wide as saucers, as if she had witnessed the most incredible miracle in the world. She murmured to herself, "My God..."
Grandma Elodie sat up straight. The thoughtful look had vanished from her eyes, replaced by undeniable shock and comprehension. She looked at her husband and said softly, "Alphard, so... it's true."