Ethan looked at the items spread across his bed.
Journal, map, photographs, coins, parchment portfolio. Valuable intelligence about the magical world, his father's connections, and possibly evidence of foul play.
Leaving them in a cardboard box in his closet was amateur hour.
He thought like an adult now. His stepfather didn't care about him, but housekeepers came through weekly. His mother might get nostalgic and go through Marcus's things.
And if something happened to him—if the magical world was as dangerous as his father's journal suggested—he needed this information preserved and accessible.
Multiple hiding spots. Don't keep all assets in one location.
The Journal: This was the most valuable item—personal notes, connections, potential evidence. It needed to be on his person or very close.
Ethan moved to his bookshelf, scanning titles.
There—a thick hardcover fantasy novel he'd never read, part of a series his mother bought him last Christmas.
He opened it to the middle and, using a ruler and pen, carefully traced the journal's outline on the pages. Then he took scissors from his desk and began cutting.
It took fifteen minutes of careful work, but he created a hollow book. The journal fit perfectly inside.
He closed the cover. From the outside, it looked like any other book on his shelf—The Chronicles of Prydain: The High King.
He slid it between two other books in the series. Invisible.
The Map: He folded it carefully and taped it to the underside of his desk's bottom drawer.
Simple, but effective. No one looked under drawer bottoms unless they were specifically searching.
The Photographs: These were evidence but also potentially incriminating—they showed his father's connections.
Ethan slid them into the dust jacket of another book, a textbook on European history. Boring enough that no one would pick it up casually.
The Coins: Actually useful.
He poured them into the velvet pouch with the watch and slipped the pouch into his pocket. He was keeping these on him—real magical currency might be needed in an emergency.
The Parchment Portfolio: This could stay visible. It was just supplies—stationary.
He put it back in the cardboard box with the wedding photo and Egyptian history books. Let people think that was all there was.
Ethan stepped back and evaluated.
To a casual observer, he had a box of sentimental items from his dead father. Nothing suspicious.
But he'd actually secured actionable intelligence in three separate locations, plus kept the most critical items—watch and coins—on his person.
Better.
He grabbed a notebook—a fresh one, not the one with his watch observations—and wrote on the first page:
---
DIAGON ALLEY - FIRST VISIT - JULY 27, 1991
Things to remember:
Observe everything
Ask careful questions
Trust no one completely
Father made enemies (Malfoy, Nott)
Griphook at Gringotts knows something
Watch holds evidence - keep secret
Don't reveal adult knowledge
Don't reveal 3x learning ability yet
Stay underestimated
---
He closed the notebook and slipped it into his school bag—the expensive leather one Richard had bought him for muggle school.
That bag was going to Diagon Alley with him. Everything he needed, portable.
Satisfied with his preparations, Ethan headed downstairs.
---
Catherine was waiting in Richard's study—a room of dark wood, leather chairs, and uncomfortable masculinity.
She'd already opened the wall safe behind an abstract painting. Very cliché, Ethan thought.
"Here," she said, handing him a manila envelope. "Everything the Ministry gave me."
Ethan opened it carefully.
Inside:
A small golden key, ornate and old-fashioned, with the number 547 engraved on the shaft. Warm to the touch.
The Gringotts vault key.
Legal documents on official-looking parchment:
---
CERTIFICATE OF INHERITANCEMinistry of Magic, Department of Magical Property
Awarded to: ETHAN MARCUS DRAKE (minor)Inherited from: MARCUS ALDRIC DRAKE (deceased, June 1989)Property: Gringotts Vault #547 and all contentsGuardian oversight required until age 17Supervised access permitted for educational purposes
---
So he could access the vault but couldn't withdraw money freely until he was seventeen.
Annoying, but expected.
A death certificate:
---
CERTIFICATE OF DEATH
Name: Marcus Aldric DrakeDate: 3 June 1989Location: Valley of the Kings, Luxor, EgyptCause: Catastrophic curse exposure during authorized Gringotts expeditionBody status: Recovered, remains returned to familyInvestigation: Closed - accidental death, no foul play indicated
---
June 3rd.
Ethan pulled the watch from his pocket, looking at the stopped hands. 3:47.
3:47 PM, June 3rd, 1989. That had to be the moment.
"Investigation closed" jumped out at him. So there had been an investigation.
Which meant someone at the Ministry had a file on how Marcus Drake died. That was information he needed eventually.
A sealed letter, addressed in his father's handwriting: "To Ethan Drake - To be opened upon entrance to magical society."
Ethan's heart beat faster. He looked at his mother.
"I haven't read it," she said quietly. "Marcus sealed it with magic—I tried once, and the wax wouldn't break. I think it only opens for you."
He examined the seal. Red wax with Marcus's personal sigil pressed into it.
Ethan tried to pry at it with his fingernail, and the wax glowed faintly. Then the seal broke with an audible crack, splitting cleanly.
His mother's eyes widened. "I tried for months..."
"It was waiting for me," Ethan said, unfolding the parchment.
The letter was dated March 1989—three months before his death:
---
Ethan,
If you're reading this, I'm dead. Sorry about that. I really hoped I'd be there to take you to Diagon Alley myself, teach you magic properly, embarrass you in front of your Hogwarts friends. Guess not.
First: None of this is your fault. Whatever happened to me, I chose my own risks. Curse-breaking is dangerous. I knew that. I loved it anyway.
Second: Your mother is good people, but she never understood our world. Don't hold that against her. She tried. She just couldn't see magic the way we do. Protect her if you can, but don't let her fear hold you back.
Third: In the vault, you'll find my grimoire. The Drake family magic. It's old, it's powerful, and some of it is dark. Not evil—dark. There's a difference. Study it carefully. Don't be stupid. But don't be afraid of it either. Power is neutral. It's what you DO with it that matters.
Fourth: My wand is in there too. Don't use it. Get your own. The wand chooses, and mine chose me, not you. But keep it safe—Drake family wands have history.
Fifth: Trust Griphook at Gringotts. He's a harsh bastard but he's honest. Goblins respect contracts and hate liars. Be straight with them.
Sixth: Be careful who you trust at Hogwarts. The magical world has politics. Blood status matters to some people (idiots, but powerful idiots). You're half-blood. Some will respect that, some won't. Don't let anyone make you ashamed of what you are.
Seventh: If anyone asks about the Egypt job, about the Tomb of Khatep, about what happened to me—be vague. Say you don't know details. Because honestly, kid, I don't know what went wrong yet. But if it wasn't an accident (and my gut says it might not have been), then whoever wanted me dead might not want my son asking questions.
Eighth: Live your life. Don't spend it chasing revenge or answers about me. Learn magic. Get powerful. Enjoy yourself. That's what I want for you.
Love you, kid. Make me proud.
— Dad
P.S. - The Invisibility Cloak is excellent for sneaking out past curfew. Not that I'm encouraging that. But I'm not NOT encouraging it either.
---
Ethan read it twice, his mind racing.
"Be vague if anyone asks about the Egypt job."
"If it wasn't an accident."
His father had suspected something before he died. He'd written this three months before the expedition, already worried enough to leave instructions.
His mother was watching him carefully. "What did he say?"