The sun blazed high in the sky, its heat silencing the usual chatter of birds, who now dozed in the cool shade of the forest. Only the relentless chirping of cicadas in distant plane trees broke the quiet, while an occasional breeze offered fleeting relief.
"Shirley… it's been a while," Adam said softly.
Amy, the cat nestled in his arms, tilted her head curiously, her sapphire eyes flicking between Adam and the girl before them. Even she seemed to sense the tangle of emotions swirling within him.
The red-haired girl clutched a box containing her wand, her clear, bright eyes fixed on Adam. "Remember our last bet before I left? I said we'd meet again on a sunny summer day." Her voice was soft, carrying the weight of a wish fulfilled.
Adam raised an eyebrow, his gaze settling on her wand. "I remember. But you never mentioned you were a little witch who could see the future."
Shirley let out a giggle, covering her mouth, her eyes crinkling with delight. "And you never said those little magic tricks you did were actual magic."
"Well…" Adam began, but Shirley cut him off, playfully pinching his cheeks.
"Doesn't matter. You lost!" she declared, each word punctuated with a grin.
Adam threw up his hands in mock surrender. His tricks had been sleight-of-hand, maybe a nudge of magic to nudge a prop or two. But Shirley's words? Those had been true prophecies.
"No wonder back at the 'home,' no one could ever beat you at a bet," he said. "The girls all called you a little witch. I think it was that Christmas when you won everyone's cupcakes that they finally stopped bad-mouthing you."
"They thought you ate them all," he continued, a fond smile creeping in. "But I came back that night and found every single cupcake in my room—even yours."
Memories of their time at the orphanage flooded back, hazy and dreamlike, as if filtered through a golden sunset. The world of those recollections felt familiar yet distant, like a place visited only in dreams. Laughter echoed in his mind, bittersweet and fleeting, leaving a quiet ache in his chest.
Shirley had always trailed behind him back then, silent as a ghost unless she was peppering him with questions. Adam had almost believed she was one, until she vanished without a trace—like a pearl lost to the world, reclaimed by a family that had finally found her.
"I'm sorry to interrupt your reunion, Miss Shirley Abraham Black," a woman in her thirties, dressed in a classic maid's outfit, said gently. "But we must be going. You still have your graduation ceremony to prepare for."
Adam frowned, glancing at the maid. "Graduation ceremony?"
The woman curtsied politely. "A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Adam Morgan. I'm Lilith, Miss Shirley's maid."
"You know my name?" Adam asked, surprised.
"Of course, Miss Shirley often—" Lilith began, but Shirley cut her off sharply.
"That's enough, Lilith." Her soft, cloud-like demeanor vanished, replaced by an icy wall. Only Adam caught the flicker of panic in her eyes.
Lilith bowed and stepped back, a faint smile playing on her lips. That's the Miss Shirley I know, she seemed to think.
Shirley handed her wand box to Lilith, smoothing her dress with a graceful air. "It's a girls' academy in France I've been attending these past two years. You know, learning all the proper etiquette, music, dancing—the whole noble thing." She paused, her tone shifting. "But that's not what I wanted to talk about—"
Lilith interjected again, reminding her that their Portkey to France was about to expire. They'd need half a day to get a new one from the Ministry if they missed it.
Shirley sighed, waving a letter sealed with the Hogwarts crest, which she'd been hiding behind her back. "Don't forget you owe me," she said with a playful smirk. "See you next time."
"Bye," Adam replied, waving as Shirley and Lilith vanished with a soft pop.
Turning, he caught Newt watching him with a broad grin, mirrored by the amused smiles of nearby witches. "Uh…"
"Oh, don't mind us, lad," Newt said, his grin widening. "But I think it's time you got your own wand. Poor Mr. Ollivander must be wondering why his shop door's been open so long."
Adam opened his mouth, then closed it, and silently headed into Ollivanders' wand shop. The interior was far less dilapidated than its weathered storefront suggested, though it still had a dusty, ancient feel. Wand boxes were strewn haphazardly across the counter and corners, stacked nearly to the ceiling.
"Hello, sir. I'd like to buy a wand," Adam said politely to the white-haired man behind the counter.
Ollivander barely glanced at him before pulling a wand from an open box and handing it over. "That'll be seven Galleons."
Adam blinked, stunned. Newt, who had just stepped inside, froze as well, and Amy let out a confused meow.
"Don't you need to, you know, measure me or something?" Adam asked. "Like, my height, arm length, or test the wand?"
Ollivander's smile hadn't faltered since Adam walked in. "I'm delighted to see a young wizard so curious about wandlore, but trust me, it's not necessary. Go on, give it a try."
Adam hesitated, then reached for the wand. It was jet-black, with faint white threads winding along its natural grain, unadorned and seamless. As his fingers closed around it, a strange sensation bloomed in his chest. He raised the wand instinctively.
A soft white light spilled from the tip, spreading like mist rising from the sea. In an instant, the shop was enveloped in an ethereal haze, as if transformed into a fairytale realm. From somewhere distant, the call of a deer echoed, and the faint song of a phoenix drifted through the air.
"A perfect match," Ollivander said, his smile now brimming with excitement, his cloudy eyes alight. "Twelve and one-third inches, ebony, phoenix feather core. A legendary combination."
"Legendary?" Adam asked, running his fingers along the wand, savoring its effortless connection.
"Indeed," Ollivander said. "Ebony wands have a striking presence and are ideal for powerful offensive magic and Transfiguration. They choose witches and wizards with unwavering courage, those who dare to break the rules. And phoenix feather cores? The rarest of all, they're lively, proud, and only bond with those they deem worthy."
He paused, his gaze lingering on Adam. "Together, they're a formidable pair—picky, but fiercely loyal to their chosen owner. In my years, I've crafted about one hundred and eighty ebony wands. Only two had phoenix feather cores, and they've waited here for a very long time."
"But what do you mean by 'legendary'?" Adam pressed, blinking curiously.
Ollivander chuckled. "Patience, young man, give an old wandmaker a moment to breathe. Throughout history, many legendary witches and wizards wielded ebony wands. The only confirmed case is Rowena Ravenclaw herself, whose ebony wand also had a phoenix feather core. And, as you may not know, she was one of the four founders of Hogwarts."
Ollivander's eyes gleamed as he looked at the wand in Adam's hand. "That girl with the maid? She tested nearly every wand in this shop. The moment you walked in, I knew this one was waiting for you."
Adam glanced at the wand box, noticing two empty slots. The wand in his hand seemed to hum faintly, as if responding. "Seven Galleons, then," Ollivander repeated, still smiling.
Adam fished out the coins, placing them on the counter, and glanced at the scattered wand boxes, each holding a wand waiting for its Hogwarts-bound owner.
At Flourish and Blotts, Adam and Newt purchased the required textbooks for first-years. Along the way, Newt's Niffler kept darting toward shiny objects, only to be promptly retrieved by Amy's swift paws.
Newt was unusually quiet, frowning at one book on Adam's cart. Finally, he couldn't hold back and flagged down a shop assistant. "This copy of Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them is outdated. The author's up to the 52nd edition. Why are you still selling the old one?"
The shopkeeper launched into an enthusiastic defense, proclaiming it a collector's edition of "Master Scamander's" work and declaring himself a decade-long fan. "Who knows Scamander better, you or me?"
Newt fell silent, then turned and left without another word, Adam trailing behind. As they walked, Adam noticed the books Newt was carrying: How to Communicate Effectively with Students, Teaching and Connecting with Students, and A Thousand Ways to Master Language and Speech.