Any wizarding family that struggled with moving houses should have their right to use magic revoked. And when you belonged to a powerful, wealthy family, relocating—even across countries—was nothing more than a stroll in the park.
Noah did absolutely nothing. He didn't even fold his socks. Dozens of house-elves, led by Grinny, handled every bit of the work. Within minutes, everything that needed to be packed had vanished. After asking his mother, Noah discovered the elves had already taken everything straight to their manor in the United Kingdom.
He had to admit: elf apparition was leagues ahead of any wizard's. A single spell for inter-country travel? That was something else entirely.
Elf magic really is different, he thought, using his right eye to catch the subtle distinctions. Compared to wizards, elves were undeniably more in tune with the natural flow of the world's magic.
When everything was ready, Charlie brought out a small piece of wood—something like the handle of a broomstick.
"It's time to go," he said.
"That's…?" Noah asked, though he already had a guess.
"A Portkey," his father explained. "Cost me a fortune, too. Licenses for personal Portkeys are tightly regulated, and the magic involved is outrageously priced."
Noah grinned. "If it's a money problem, then it's not really a problem."
His mother chuckled, patting his head. "Don't be like those spoiled rich brats from other families."
Noah smoothed down his hair, his grin widening. "We're rich, and I was spoiled." Then he froze, his expression twisting into mock horror. "We're rich and I'm spoiled—NOOO!"
The three adults stared at him in silence.
Finally, Charlie said, "Let's grab the Portkey and just leave him here."
"Great idea, Dad. Laura and I can always make another one," Adam added.
"Another one? You mean a first one. I don't remember us having kids," Laura shot back.
Everyone touched the Portkey—yet nothing happened.
"You don't seem too worried," Charlie noted, seeing Noah simply watching them.
"I'd just ask Grinny to take me," Noah replied with a smile.
The adults fell silent, pretending they hadn't heard.
"And what was that about not having kids?" Noah added, grinning as he placed his hand on the Portkey.
. . .
The Gray family's French manor was worthy of an ancient pure-blood legacy—luxurious, imposing, everything expected from one of the richest wizarding families in the world. But compared to their manor in the United Kingdom, it was like comparing a millionaire to a billionaire. Both were wealthy, but on vastly different scales.
The British Gray Manor wasn't just a residence—it was a symbol of absolute power. Nearly a castle, its tall towers and carved black stone walls dominated the landscape, shrouded by colossal, ancient trees that seemed to whisper secrets from forgotten ages. There were no gates at the entrance—only a flawless garden surrounding the estate, its flowerbeds glowing in the moonlight, and hedges that shifted on their own as if alive.
Three fountains of crystal-clear water lined the stone paths, each adorned with enchanted statues that danced gracefully as silver cascades poured down. Behind the manor, an enormous greenhouse—large enough to rival a noble's estate—housed magical plants from across the globe, some so rare they weren't even mentioned in the most advanced Herbology texts.
Noah was awestruck by it all. His surprise grew even more when he asked exactly where they were.
"On an island," they told him.
A secret island in Scotland.
No matter which way he walked, he would eventually reach the sea, where massive cliffs rose sharply against crashing waves. The island was layered with countless enchantments. It was impossible to find by ordinary means—not even a powerful wizard could locate it without an invitation.
The only way in or out was through Portkeys or Floo when opened. And even if someone did manage to stumble upon the island, its protections would trigger instantly. Any unknown magical signature would be met with overwhelming defenses.
The French manor was protected, and so was the Flammes' estate. But this?
This wasn't a house.
It was a fortress.
Even if the outside world collapsed into war, the Grays would remain untouchable.
In the days following their arrival in Britain, everyone seemed busy, constantly leaving the manor. Noah's grandfather went out nearly every day that first week.
Trips to the Ministry, meetings with old acquaintances—it was as if their return to the U.K. had tossed fuel onto a fire people had been desperate to ignite.
A new Minister of Magic had just been elected, reshuffling positions of power.
Some pure-blood families felt threatened by the Grays. Even though the Grays made it clear they weren't interested in politics, no one fully believed them, no matter how convincingly they pretended to.
And honestly, who could blame them?
No family rises this high and stays strong without politics, Noah mused. He hadn't spoken to his parents or grandfather about it, but he could easily guess that, despite their public stance, the Grays had loyal people embedded in the Ministry—not just in Britain, but worldwide.
Power, wealth, and influence—Gray family stood at the top in every regard. Their backing was like an elevator, while everyone else climbed stairs toward success.
Their return at the same time as a shift in power made people wonder.
Of course, Noah had little role in any of this. He briefly considered doing some homework on the political scene but quickly pushed it aside.
His plans were different: finish mastering the arts of the mind, fulfill the promises he had made—one to his grandfather in another life, and one to Nick in this one.
To live. To be happy.
Even if peace would only come once he secured a place at the very top, he knew he couldn't rush. He'd build his foundation solidly first, then dedicate himself to the lighter side of life.
More time with his family before school. And at school? Maybe try being more of a "kid"—if that was even possible.
That morning, he sat in his room, studying the garden statues with his right eye.
There's something odd about these statues… some unusual enchantment, he thought.
But his analysis had to wait when he was summoned to the living room.
"Something happen?" he asked, finding his family gathered together.
"We've been invited to a ball," his mother said, clearly delighted. Noah bet she already had a new dress in mind.
Normally, a ball invitation wasn't a big deal—families like theirs got them all the time. But if it was important enough to call him over just to mention it, it could only mean one thing.
"I have to go too?" Noah asked. From the smile on his grandfather's face, the answer was obvious. If I'm going, you're going.
"The last time you attended a formal event, half the wizarding families tried arranging marriages," his father teased with a wink.
Noah rolled his eyes. "Let me guess—it's for the new Minister?"
"Something like that," his father said, twirling to imaginary music. "A charity ball."
Noah understood—it was a key event in Britain's magical society, good for making connections or securing influence. Of course the Grays were invited; even if they'd stayed in France, the invitation would've reached them. Their actual return made it even more important. The Minister clearly wanted a strong relationship with the Grays—especially now that they lived in his jurisdiction.
He wouldn't just be waiting for their presence—he'd also be testing the waters, carefully, so as not to offend.
Noah understood immediately. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad to attend. If he was lucky, he might even get a read on the magical affinities of Britain's influential adults.
His mother, however, seemed blissfully unconcerned with ulterior motives.
"I can't wait to pick out my dress," she said, turning to her husband. "We should match."
Noah laughed, joining his grandfather in a nearby armchair. "Mom really likes balls."
The old man chuckled. "You haven't seen anything yet. Just pray she doesn't try to make you match them—otherwise you'll end up looking ridiculous."
Noah raised a brow, confused.
Minutes later, when his mother started bringing up outfits that were miniature versions of theirs, he finally understood.
Thankfully, he managed to escape her attempts and chose his own attire.
If he had to attend a ball filled with rich people and politicians, the least he could do was feel comfortable in his own clothes.
The event would be at the end of the week—plenty of time to prepare.
Of course, any suit would've done, but this wasn't a Muggle party—it was a wizarding ball. Their idea of formal wear was… different.
It would be Noah's first official appearance in the U.K., and his mother insisted he look proper. So he tried on more clothes in a single week than he ever had before—suits, robes, even "wizard-tailored" formal outfits that blurred the line between the two.
Eventually, he found the perfect choice: a slim black suit with gold accents, cut in a way that hugged his frame while still carrying the flowing excess of wizarding robes. A fusion of robe and tuxedo, elegant yet distinctly magical.
"Never thought picking clothes could be this hard," he muttered to his grandfather outside the manor.
The old man wore a black-and-red robe, far more extravagant than Noah's, yet still managing to look serious and refined.
"Don't think too hard. Just be glad you're not Adam."
Noah smirked. "May Merlin have mercy on him."
Charlie laughed, nodding.
His father and mother had already chosen their outfits, but at the last moment, Laura decided to change hers. Which, of course, meant Adam had to change his too.
By the time they were finally ready, Noah could see relief in his father's eyes.
At least they looked good. His mother might obsess over clothes, but no one could deny her impeccable taste.
Adam wore a black robe with muted gold trim at the shoulders and cuffs—similar in style to Noah's, but with twice the fabric.
Laura wore a nearly gray-black gown that clung to her curves. Golden accents adorned her shoulders, neckline, and chest, with a black cape flowing from her back down to the floor.
Noah grinned. "Mom looks stunning. I almost feel bad for the other women there."
She pinched his cheek. "Just don't use sweet words like that on the girls at the ball."
"Yes, no sweet words for other wizards' daughters," his father teased with a wink.
Noah just smiled, then turned to his grandfather.
"If we're outside, then we're not going by Floo…" He paused, then guessed, "Magical carriage?"
Charlie confirmed. "Yes. With our family's status, we're expected to arrive in style. Normally Floo or apparition would suffice."
No sooner had he spoken than a grand carriage floated down from the skies, no beasts pulling it.
House-elves controlled it, expertly keeping themselves invisible. To any onlooker, it seemed to fly driverless.
Like most things in the wizarding world, the inside was far larger than it appeared—luxurious, spacious seats surrounding a small table stocked with drinks and appetizers.
The carriage soared smoothly through the skies, without a single jolt.
"Elven magic?" Noah asked, his right eye already analyzing it.
"Yes," Charlie replied. "Nick must've taught you about layered enchantments in structures?"
Noah nodded, recalling the theory.
Layering magic meant enchanting each piece during construction rather than casting one large spell at the end. Stronger, more efficient. Commonly used in protections, since even if part of a structure was destroyed, the whole wouldn't collapse.
Looking deeper with his right eye, Noah spotted at least three enchantments—likely for flight, stability, and defense.
Curiosity got the better of him.
"Grinny," he called.
"Yes, Master Noah?" came the elf's unseen reply.
"Tell me exactly which enchantments are on this carriage—and how the flight spell works."
"The carriage holds five enchantments."
"Five?" Noah was surprised.
He had only seen three. Narrowing his focus, he pushed his eye to its second level. The world shifted, and the carriage's magic became clearer. Two more spells emerged, though one was still faint.
Satisfied, he deactivated the ability before it drained him.
"Explain them," he requested.
Grinny obliged.
Noah had been correct about stability, flight, and defense. The fourth was invisibility. The fifth was another defensive measure—an emergency teleportation enchantment.
He memorized the unique signatures of each. As for the flight spell, Grinny explained it was essentially a levitation charm, but applied piece by piece: every ten centimeters of the carriage was enchanted separately, connected by three magical nodes. Even if the carriage split in half, both sides would still fly.
"Thanks, Grinny."
After lifting the sound barrier, Noah tuned back into the family's conversation.
"They'll probably offer you a Ministry position," Adam told Charlie.
"They already have," Charlie chuckled. "Pure courtesy, of course. I didn't come to Britain to meddle in their politics."
Adam smirked. "I know. But I bet they're terrified of us getting involved, politically or commercially. I received a report two days ago—it's worse than expected."
Charlie gestured for him to continue.
"The bureaucrats and old families are fighting for control over commerce. It's a clear strategy to absorb wealth and divide influence."
"Who's leading it?" Charlie asked, genuinely interested.
"The Malfoys hold much of the political sway, and the new Minister… well, he's sympathetic to them," Adam said.
"No surprise there." Charlie tapped his finger thoughtfully against the table.
"And the Greengrasses?" he asked.
"Still the largest neutral faction, though leaning toward the purists. The war treated them well—they expanded businesses and influence. With the Malfoys' weakened state post-war, the Greengrasses are effectively the second most powerful house. Many already consider them the first."
Laura, quiet until now, spoke up. "And the Blacks? Weren't they England's wealthiest?"
"The Blacks are practically extinct or imprisoned. Sirius Black is the current head, but he's no purist—he works as an Auror. Interesting man. Of course, their fortune is still large, though much was lost in recent splits and mismanagement."
Noah listened with interest. He had long decided to live in this world for himself, not by what he remembered from books in another life. Information gathered here mattered more than old stories.
Hearing that Sirius was an Auror instead of rotting in Azkaban brought a smile to his face.
He was about to ask which family held the most influence currently, but before he could—
They arrived.
. . .
The carriage landed in a stunning garden, flowers and statues forming a corridor to the grand entrance. As it stopped at the stairs, a well-dressed man stepped forward.
A Ministry official, tasked with receiving important guests.
"Good evening, Mr. Gray," he greeted Charlie, then offered equal courtesy to the others.
"It's an honor to receive you. I'm Hector Bernard, Department of Celebratory Events. Allow me to guide you to the ball."
Charlie nodded.
"Very well," Hector smiled, leading the way.
As they walked, Noah's sharp senses picked up powerful magical fluctuations. A quick glance through his right eye revealed a massive barrier around the manor, along with a dozen other enchantments he couldn't yet identify.
Inside, the atmosphere shifted immediately. Temperature charms kept the room pleasantly warm, classical music floated softly in the background, and conversations flowed easily.
Soon, Minister of Magic Cornelius Fudge himself approached, a wide smile plastered across his face.
"Mr. Gray, it's a great pleasure to welcome you tonight," he said warmly.
Charlie kept his expression neutral. "Don't be so formal, Cornelius. Accepting your invitation was expected. Surely you remember my family."
Fudge turned to Adam and Laura. "Adam, Laura, wonderful to see you. How was France? Lovely, I hope."
Though the Grays had left Britain long before Fudge's current term, the Ministry knew them well. It was safe to say the Grays knew everyone worth knowing.
Finally, the Minister looked at Noah and smiled. "And you must be young Noah. My, how you've grown. The last time I saw you, you were just a baby. How time flies."
"Congratulations on your position, Minister," Noah replied with a polite smile. "Elected with the highest approval in years. Quite impressive."
Fudge blinked in surprise before returning the smile. "Thank you, young man." He tilted his head. "You'll be attending Hogwarts, I presume?"
Noah nodded. "Yes."
"Excellent choice," the Minister said, clearly pleased.
He just wanted confirmation we're staying here long-term, Noah thought.
As more guests began to gather around, Noah exchanged a look with his mother. She gave a small nod.
With a smile, he excused himself from the Minister and slipped away to wander the ball.