----------------------------------------------------------------------------
(PS: A friend suggested I create a P@treon account. If you'd like to see advanced chapters posted on Webnovel, that's where you can find them! I'll also mention all the supporters at the end of each chapter!)
Search : StoryLabo on the website
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
The next morning, Aiden woke up with that weird sensation kids have on Christmas Eve, a kind of mixture of excitement and anxiety that twists your guts and makes you want to vomit and dance at the same time.
He went down for breakfast with the others, but damn, impossible to concentrate on Mrs. Pemberton's soggy cereal.
- "You look nervous," Eddie noticed seeing him fidget with his spoon without eating.
- "Me? No, I'm fine," Aiden lied with all the conviction of a politician during election season.
Eddie didn't ask more questions, the cereal much more interesting than Aiden.
Around 10:30 AM, there was a knock at the door.
Three sharp, precise and authoritative knocks, sounding like the kind of knocks made by people used to being obeyed.
Aiden almost spilled his bowl of milk.
Mrs. Pemberton frowned, they weren't expecting anyone this morning and she headed toward the entrance wiping her hands on her apron.
Aiden followed her like her shadow, so close that Mrs. Pemberton almost tripped over him and smashed her skull on the ground. Behind him, the other children continued chatting, unaware that their reality was about to shift.
Half annoyed, she pushed him back so she could walk peacefully and finally reached the entrance.
Mrs. Pemberton finally opened the door and then froze.
Before her stood a mature woman, tall, thin, with gray hair pulled back in a tight bun and rectangular glasses that gave her a stern air. She wore a long emerald green robe that looked expensive and a pointed hat that, strangely, didn't look ridiculous on her.
- "Good morning," said the woman in a clear and authoritative voice. "I am Professor McGonagall, deputy headmistress of Hogwarts School mentioned in the letter you received by owl. I've come to see Mr. Mortensen."
Mrs. Pemberton blinked as if she had just been slapped.
- "The... Hogwarts School?" she stammered. "Wait... yesterday's letter... was it real?"
McGonagall had a small smile, the first Aiden had seen her make.
- "Perfectly real, Mrs. Pemberton. May I come in?"
Mrs. Pemberton stepped aside, still in shock, while McGonagall entered the orphanage with the assurance of someone used to impressing people, then her eyes fell on Aiden.
And there, for the first time since she had arrived, her mask of serenity cracked slightly.
She stared at him with troubling intensity, her eyes going from his white hair to his harmonious features, then to his orange eyes that glowed softly in the morning light. Aiden saw her swallow discreetly.
What's happening to her? He tried to read her superficial thoughts but only caught confused fragments ...never seen... looks like... impossible...
- "You are Aiden Mortensen, I presume?" she finally said, regaining composure.
- "Yes, ma'am," replied Aiden with his well-trained orphan politeness.
McGonagall nodded, but continued observing him with that particular attention people have when faced with something unusual.
- "Mrs. Pemberton," she said without taking her eyes off Aiden, "would it be possible to have a private interview with you and Mr. Mortensen? What I have to explain requires... discretion."
- "Of course, of course," Mrs. Pemberton stammered. "Children, go play in the yard! Aiden and I have to discuss with... with the professor."
The other children grumbled at being disturbed so early in the morning but obeyed anyway. Eddie threw a curious look toward McGonagall before leaving, her pointed hat obviously intriguing him.
Once alone in the orphanage's small living room, McGonagall took a seat in the least broken armchair and crossed her hands on her knees.
- "So you are... a magician? A witch??" Mrs. Pemberton began.
- "Witch is the exact term yes, we live hidden from the non-magical community that we call Muggles and we only reveal ourselves when one of your children reveals magical talent. His name is automatically inscribed in a unique artifact at Hogwarts and he is then automatically enrolled," McGonagall agreed.
- "I... I'd like to believe you but I feel like all this is a huge joke..." Mrs. Pemberton continued.
- "Mrs. Pemberton, your doubts are legitimate," she began, "what I'm going to show you risks upsetting your certainties about the world around you. Are you ready?"
Mrs. Pemberton nodded, even though she looked like she had swallowed a lemon.
McGonagall took out a long wooden wand from her robe and pointed it toward the living room coffee table.
- "Transformo!"
The table began to shake, undulate, then literally change shape before Mrs. Pemberton's amazed eyes. In a few seconds, it had become a pink and chubby pig that grunted joyfully while waddling on the carpet.
Mrs. Pemberton let out a muffled cry and almost fell from her chair.
- "My god... my god, what... how...?"
- "Magic," McGonagall simply said before giving another wave of her wand. "Finite!"
The pig became a table again instantly.
Mrs. Pemberton remained open-mouthed for a few seconds, then looked at Aiden with round eyes.
- "So... so it's true? You really are...?"
- "A wizard," Aiden confirmed with a smile he hoped was reassuring. "Surprise?"
Mrs. Pemberton sank back into her armchair, completely overwhelmed by events.
- "I... I don't know what to say. It's so... incredible."
- "Mrs. Pemberton," McGonagall intervened in a gentle voice, "I know this is a lot to take in. But I need your word that you won't speak of this to anyone. The wizarding world must remain secret."
- "I... yes, of course. Of course, I won't say anything." Mrs. Pemberton shook her head. "But Aiden... is he really going to leave? To that school?"
- "If that is his wish, yes."
Aiden didn't hesitate for a second.
- "I want to go. More than anything."
McGonagall smiled, a real smile this time, warm despite her usual severity.
- "Perfect. In that case, we must go to Diagon Alley for your school shopping. Do you have money, Mr. Mortensen?"
Aiden opened his mouth to answer that he had a bank card with 100,000 pounds on it, then caught himself just in time. How to explain that without looking like a bank robber in short pants?
- "Uh... no, not really."
- "Very well, Hogwarts has an aid fund for students in your situation, you'll have to repay after your studies, but it will allow you to buy the essentials."
An aid fund, that's perfect. I could discreetly use my personal money later for more lucrative purchases...
- "Are we going now?" he asked, barely able to contain his excitement.
- "Now," McGonagall confirmed standing up. "Mrs. Pemberton, we'll be back in a few hours."
She turned toward Aiden.
- "Hold my arm firmly, Mr. Mortensen. And don't let go."
Aiden obeyed, gripping McGonagall's arm.
- "We're Apparating. You might feel nauseous."
The world exploded.
Aiden felt like he was being compressed in a tube too narrow, sucked through a garden hose, twisted like a mop. Everything became black, then colorful, then black again.
And suddenly, they were elsewhere.
Aiden staggered slightly, expecting to vomit his guts, but... nothing. Just a slight sensation of dizziness, like after a carousel ride.
Weird. Apparition is known to make beginners sick. Maybe it's due to my physical transformation, I'll really have to study that more closely.
- "Impressive, Mr. Mortensen, most people vomit," McGonagall then told him.
- "I know, I'm impressive," he said with an exaggerated pout drawing a smile from McGonagall. "But call me Aiden professor, a title like mister is a bit much for an eleven-year-old child," he laughed.
He then looked around, they stood before a shabby pub squeezed between two ordinary London buildings. The sign creaked in the wind, inscribed in black letters on top "The Leaky Cauldron."
- "How have I never noticed this place?" he murmured.
- "Because you didn't have the eyes to see it," McGonagall replied. "Come."
The pub's interior was exactly as Aiden had imagined it, quite dark, smoky, with a smell of beer and sweat. People in robes and pointed hats discussed in low voices in corners, and behind the bar, a bald man wiped glasses with a dubious cloth.
- "Professor McGonagall!" called the man. "What a pleasure to see you!"
- "Hello, Tom," she replied politely. "We're just passing through."
She guided Aiden toward the back of the pub, to a small courtyard closed by a wall of red bricks.
- "Watch carefully what I do," she said taking out her wand. "One day, you'll have to do it again."
She tapped the wall according to a precise pattern, three knocks up from the trash can, then two horizontally, then one knock down.
The bricks began to tremble, then move, gradually forming an opening that widened more and more.
And beyond...
- "Welcome to Diagon Alley, Mr. Mortensen."
Holy shit. Was his only thought.
A cobbled street stretched before them, lined with shops with twisted and colorful facades. Wizards in robes of all colors strolled peacefully, owls flew freely between rooftops, and in a window, Aiden glimpsed books moving by themselves on their shelves.
It was exactly like in the movies, but a thousand times better. A thousand times more real.
Aiden couldn't close his mouth.
- "So?" asked McGonagall with a small amused smile. "What do you think?"
- "It's... it's magnificent."
McGonagall nodded, visibly satisfied with his reaction, then took out a leather purse from her robe.
- "Here are fifty galleons from Hogwarts' aid fund. This should be enough for your first-year purchases."
Aiden took the purse, surprised by its weight. The coins tinkled softly inside.
- "Thank you."
- "Good. Let's start with your robes. Then books, then equipment, and we'll finish with your wand."
They headed toward a shop topped with a golden sign: "Madam Malkin's - Robes for All Occasions."
They had barely crossed the threshold when a small round woman with violet hair rushed toward them.
- "Professor McGonagall! What a pleasure! And who is this ravishing young man?"
Her gaze fell on Aiden and she literally froze, eyes wide.
- "Oh... oh my god. How beautiful he is!"
Aiden felt his cheeks redden. Since his transformation, he attracted looks, but this was downright embarrassing.
- "Madam Malkin," said McGonagall, "Mr. Mortensen needs a complete uniform for Hogwarts. First year."
- "Of course, of course!" Madam Malkin couldn't stop staring at him. "Step up on the platform, my little angel. Oh, but look at that bearing! Those features! That natural elegance!"
While she took his measurements chattering nonstop, Aiden caught McGonagall's gaze in the mirror. She looked slightly annoyed by the seamstress's enthusiasm.
- "You know what, my little one?" said Madam Malkin while pinning his robe. "If you ever need pocket money, I'd very much like to propose you as a model for my shop. With your physique, you'd be a sensation!"
- "Uh... I'll think about it," Aiden replied with a polite smile.
McGonagall cleared her throat.
- "We're in a hurry, Madam Malkin."
- "Yes, yes, of course! There, it's finished. Your robes will be ready in an hour."
They left the shop under the admiring gazes of the seamstress and headed toward Flourish and Blotts, the bookstore.
And there, same story. The saleswoman couldn't take her eyes off Aiden, proposing "the most beautiful books for the most beautiful of students." Damn, it was flattering but annoying at the same time.
Aiden bought all his school textbooks, hardly resisting the urge to open them on the spot to start reading. McGonagall had to remind him they still had shopping to do.
Cauldrons, scales, telescope, potion ingredients, at each shop, it was the same story. The witches smiled at him, gave him preferential prices, slipped him their business cards, fortunately the wizards didn't do that, he wasn't that way inclined, not at all!!!
- "You're making a sensation," McGonagall remarked in a deadpan tone while they headed toward their last stop.
- "It's not my fault," Aiden protested. "I didn't ask for anything!"
McGonagall smiled, a real smile, not her professional grimace.
- "I know. Your... appearance is remarkable, that's undeniable."
They stopped before a narrow and dusty shop. The golden and peeling sign indicated: "Ollivander - Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C."
Aiden felt his stomach knot. There, behind that door, awaited the most important object of his future wizard life. His wand. His crime partner, his magical extension, the key to all his dreams and ambitions.
McGonagall placed her hand on the door handle, then turned toward him.
- "Ready, Mr. Mortensen?"
Aiden breathed deeply, feeling tension twist his guts.
- "Ready."