Magic had shaped the wizarding world, weaving its ancient force through the lives of witches and wizards for centuries.
But for Alex, magic wasn't just a gift – it was a legacy.
A legacy intertwined not only with Hogwarts but with something far older, something of the Legends.
As Alex sat in the common room, the flames of the hearth crackling softly, he unfolded two letters that had just arrived by owl.
Each one was sealed with wax, one bearing the crest of his father, the other his mother's personal seal.
The wax felt cool under his fingers, but the weight of their messages made his chest tighten slightly in anticipation.
The first letter, from his father, Adrien Du Lac, was precise, almost formal.
His father, one of the few Holy Knights serving the Church, was a man of tradition, discipline, and great strength – both physical and otherwise.
Alex could feel the weight of responsibility in every sentence as he read.
[ "My son,
I hope this letter finds you in good health and that your studies at Hogwarts continue to progress. I received confirmation from the Church – your request to train at the Vatican this coming summer has been accepted.
The Holy Order awaits you with anticipation. The preparations for your knighthood, while still years away, have already begun. They see the potential within you, as do I.
I look forward to seeing you stand among the Holy Knights one day, where you shall uphold the legacy of our family and Sir Galahad before you.
Your magical talents are unique in our bloodline, but rest assured, they are seen as an asset rather than a distraction.
Train well, study hard, and above all, remember the importance of our duty to protect. We are not just wizards, but warriors of faith and light.
With respect,
Adrien Du Lac" ]
Alex lowered the letter and ran a hand through his hair, sighing softly.
His father's words were always steady, a constant reminder of the path set before him.
A path of knighthood, not just wizardry.
It was his destiny to follow in the footsteps of Sir Galahad, one of the greatest knights of the Round Table, and by blood, Sir Lancelot himself.
The weight of those names sometimes felt like a chain around his neck, but there was pride in it too.
His family's lineage spanned centuries, a legacy built on valor, faith and now, Magic.
The second letter was different, though.
His mother's handwriting flowed elegantly across the parchment, yet there was a palpable sense of worry between the lines.
Her words were softer, more personal, filled with a mother's love and concern.
[ "My dearest Alex,
I've been thinking of you constantly since the last news from Hogwarts.
The rumors of Patricia Rakepick's actions have reached even us here, and I must admit, my heart is uneasy.
There are dark forces at play, and though I know you are strong, I fear for your safety. Please, take care of yourself.
I've enclosed something that belonged to my side of the family – a locket, enchanted with powerful protective magic. It's not to be taken lightly.
It has saved lives before, and I believe it may do the same for you. Wear it, my love, and know that you are never truly alone. You carry our blood, the blood of knights and wizards, but you also carry my love, which will always guide and protect you.
Stay vigilant, and remember who you are.
Love always,
Your mother" ]
Alex picked up the locket that had fallen from the folded letter.
It was cool to the touch, glowing faintly with enchantments.
He could feel the power thrumming beneath its surface, ancient and protective.
It was an artifact tied to his mother's family, one he had always seen around her neck, but he'd never learned much about its origins.
All he knew was that it was more than just a family heirloom – It was a shield against the darkness.
He clasped the locket around his neck, the weight settling comfortably against his chest.
As he stared into the flames, he let his thoughts wander back through his family's history.
Descended from Sir Galahad, the purest of the knights, and in turn, from Sir Lancelot, the mightiest, Alex had been born into a lineage of heroes.
His father, Adrien, had served the Church with unwavering loyalty, a Holy Knight of the Vatican who stood as both protector and warrior.
Alex was expected to follow in his footsteps, but unlike his ancestors and his father, Alex had been blessed – or perhaps cursed – with magic.
His magical abilities had shown themselves at an early age, and while his father had been surprised, it was his mother who had understood this the most.
Instead of sending him to Beauxbatons, where many French-born magical students like him were traditionally educated, his family had made a different decision.
A treaty with the British Ministry had allowed Alex to attend Hogwarts, where he could hone his magical talents before his knightly training began at age eighteen.
This arrangement had always made Alex feel like he was walking two paths at once – one of the swords and one of the wands.
The Holy Knights revered discipline, honor, and the protection of the weak, while the world of magic held an allure of freedom, creativity, and boundless power. It was a balance he wasn't sure he could maintain forever.
As these thoughts tumbled through his mind, Alex found himself contemplating his next steps.
The locket pulsed faintly, almost as if sensing his inner turmoil. He glanced back at the letters on the table, then down at his hands.
So much responsibility, so many expectations – and not just from his family, but from Hogwarts, from his friends, and from the entire magical community, though they may not know if it yet.
The Holy Grail, the Round Table, Merlin, Morgana… his blood was tied to legends, yet here he was, a student still learning his craft.
Those names that have lived through centuries rearing their heads once again in front of Alex as he looked at the fire in front of him.
The flames danced, casting flickering shadows on the walls. He knew that soon enough; he would have to face the ancient powers that still stirred beneath the surface of this world.
Powers connected not just to his magical training but to his lineage as a knight.
Later that evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, Alex made his way to the Astronomy Tower, seeking solitude and perhaps some clarity.
The stars above glittered in the vast expanse of the night sky, a reminder of the countless mysteries that lay both above and below.
The weight of the locket felt heavier now, as if it carried more than just protective magic – perhaps the weight of his family's legacy itself.
He absentmindedly touched it, feeling the comforting hum of the enchantment. The world was changing rapidly, both the magical and the mundane, and he could sense that his role in it would soon come to a head.
As the wind whipped through the tower, carrying with it the scent of pine from the Forbidden Forest, Alex made a silent vow.
He would master both the magic of the wizarding world and the discipline of the Holy Knights; his trait allowed him to do so.
He would carry the legacy of Lancelot, Galahad, and his father into the future, whatever it may hold.
For now, the world slumbered beneath the stars, but Alex could feel the ancient whispers in the air – whispers of knights, wizards, and a fate yet to be written.