That morning, there was something different in the air. As the first rays of sunlight passed through the stained glass windows of the library, my grandfather called me with a serious, yet serene look.
He held a letter in his hand — the red wax seal with the Hogwarts crest stamped on the front. My heart skipped a beat.
"A confused owl arrived last night," he said, placing the letter on the ancient oak table. "It hit the valley's protection barriers three times. Brave one, I must say. Determined to fulfill her mission."
I slowly approached, my eyes fixed on the envelope.
"It's your letter, Aurelius," he said with restrained pride. "Hogwarts has recognized your magic."
I remained silent, absorbing the meaning of it all. It was real.
My grandfather pulled a chair and sat down, his expression softening into something nostalgic.
"When your mother was your age... we decided to educate her here. Your grandmother and I created a complete environment — safe, deep, demanding, but full of love. Your grandmother had a natural talent for teaching, and together we prepared her for the world."
He paused, looking at the unlit fireplace.
"But now… without her, it's different. I would do the impossible for you, my grandson, but even the most powerful wizards know their limits. Teaching you alone, as I did your mother, would be a challenge… and honestly, perhaps an injustice to you."
He then raised his eyes — those electric blue eyes locked on mine.
"So I give you a choice, my boy. Do you wish to be educated here, at home, as your mother was ? If so, I'll find the finest tutors this continent has to offer. Or do you wish to go to Hogwarts — to live the experience your mother never had. To see the school your ancestor helped build, to learn from renowned professors, form bonds… write your own story."
I swallowed hard and looked at the letter again. It seemed to pulse with expectation. The memory of Godric Gryffindor — my ancestor — felt present there, like an ancestral whisper calling me.
"I want to go to Hogwarts," I said firmly. "I want to see the school my ancestor built with his own friends. See the past… build my future there."
Silence lingered for a moment until my grandfather's proud and gentle smile bloomed.
"So it shall be," he said, rising slowly and placing his hand on my shoulder.
"Your path lies ahead, Aurelius Gryffindor. And whatever you choose to follow… know that I will always be by your side."
The warmth of those words passed through me like a protective spell. My heart beat fast — but steady.
The days following the arrival of the Hogwarts letter were anything but peaceful. If my grandfather Reginald had already been demanding, he now became practically a general. The mere mention of me being outside his direct supervision was enough to awaken his desire to ensure I was ready for anything — and he really meant anything.
"You're not going to Hogwarts like some silly, clueless boy," he said the next morning, tossing me a thick book with silver embossed letters:
"Occlumency and Legilimency: The Silent Defense and the Invisible Attack."
"Mental magic ?" I asked, flipping through the book curiously.
"Yes. It's the only kind of magic no shield charm can protect you from. And it's the most common among smiling manipulators at the Ministry and among certain clever professors." He came closer and stared at me. "You'll be young, talented, and you'll carry the Gryffindor name. That draws allies… but also enemies."
And so, a new cycle of training began.
If physical and magical training had already been rigorous, the mental lessons were brutal. The first class began with my grandfather launching a Legilimency attack before even explaining the theory.
"What was that ?!"
"An invasion attempt. Weak, I admit. But if it felt like a spear through your mind, then you already understand enough about how painful failure is."
We spent weeks in intense sessions, where he invaded my thoughts with illusionary fragments of my past life, trying to destabilize me. He forced false memories of fear, guilt, longing… And I tried to shut my mind like a fortress.
At first, I resisted for seconds.
Then, for a minute.
And finally… three whole minutes.
That morning, when I opened my eyes after repelling a prolonged attack, I saw my grandfather smiling. Not out of triumph, but out of respect.
"Three minutes. That's more than most Aurors could do under pressure. You're not a master yet, but good enough that they won't get into your mind easily. And that… eases my heart."
I sighed, my body trembling from exhaustion. "You're terrifying, you know that ?"
"And you'll thank me when some wizard tries to find out how many spoonfuls of sugar you put in your tea and walks away with a headache."
In the following days, we adjusted other details. Reginald personally sewed protective enchantments into my uniform — ancient runes hidden in the hems of my robes. All discreet. An aura containment field, a passive barrier against tracking spells, and of course, a small magical translation charm, in case I needed to communicate with basic magical creatures.
But one issue remained unresolved.
Saphira.
My draconic companion, silent confidante and loyal guardian. Since I was born into this world, she had been by my side more than anyone. To part now felt… impossible.
One night, while we were reviewing disguise spells in one of the side halls, she pressed her face against one of the windows, looking inside, her tail dragging softly on the polished stone floor.
'You're worrying too much,' she said in her deep, resonant, and slightly sarcastic voice.'If you men spent more time listening than talking, you'd have asked me already.'
My grandfather raised an eyebrow, intrigued. I just stared at her, feeling a mix of guilt and relief.
"And what do you suggest then, your majesty ?" I asked, smiling.
'I can turn invisible.'
My grandfather frowned. "For how long ?"
'As long as necessary, as long as I control my breathing. I'll follow the Hogwarts Express from above, invisible to Muggles, wizards, or trackers. Once you arrive at the castle, I'll dive into the Forest. I'll be nearby, hidden, but close.'
I stepped forward and placed my hand on her snout. "Are you sure? It could be dangerous…"
She growled softly, almost affectionately. 'I'm a dragon, boy. Danger runs from me.'
My grandfather crossed his arms and sighed.
"I can't say I like it… but it's discreet. And probably safer than any invisibility spell I could cast on you."
He looked at Saphira with the kind of respect one gives an equal.
"Then it's settled. You'll follow the train in silence, and once there, take shelter in the forest. But be careful with the centaurs — they're not too fond of flying visitors."
Saphira snorted, releasing a bit of bluish smoke. 'They better be careful with me.'
And thus, another plan was forged. Another step taken toward destiny.
We were ready.
Or as ready as an eleven-year-old boy, his rune-obsessed grandfather, and a stubborn she-dragon could be.
The dawn of September 1st came faster than I expected. My suitcase had been packed since the night before, full of books, scrolls, clothes, and — hidden between the folds of my robes — a small obsidian pendant enchanted by my grandfather: "a charm of focus and silence," as he called it.
But what truly stood out in the center of the hall was the runic stone circle engraved into the floor, pulsing softly with raw magic. At its center, a Portkey: an ancient round bronze plaque with the Gryffindor crest in the middle.
"This key was made especially for today," my grandfather explained. "Big enough to carry you, your luggage… and Saphira."
The mention of her name made the dragon appear from the upper balcony, landing softly beside us. Her eyes gleamed with an emotion I knew was pride.
'Let's get this over with,' she grumbled, her wings trembling with anticipation. 'I want to see this school you all praise so much.'
My grandfather activated the circle with a wand movement, and the plaque began to glow. He gripped my shoulder firmly.
"Remember: when we arrive, go straight to the train. Keep your head held high, no matter what they say. And listen to your heart — you'll know when to trust, or not."
I nodded, and with a single gesture, we stepped into the circle. The magic surrounded us.
CRACK!
When my feet touched the ground again, we were in a hidden clearing on the outskirts of London. The leaves were still wet with morning dew, and the distant sounds of the city were muffled by the magic around us.
Saphira stretched her neck, sniffed the air, and then looked at me.
'See you at the castle,' she said with a low growl, and then… vanished.
Literally.
She became a translucent outline for a second, then disappeared completely. A moment later, I heard the rhythmic beating of wings cutting through the wind above the treetops.
I smiled. Good luck, Saphira.
My grandfather pulled out a second Portkey — an ornate silver cane — and held it between us. "Hold tight, boy. This one takes us straight to Platform Nine and Three-Quarters."
I touched the cane, and once again the world twisted.
CRACK!
The magical fog cleared, revealing the bustle of witches and wizards in colorful robes, floating trunks, and owls hooting nervously. We were in the middle of Platform 9¾. To our left, the majestic Hogwarts Express let off hot steam as the red carriages welcomed students of all ages.
But it wasn't the train that caught my attention… it was the stares.
Adult wizards murmured to each other at the sight of my grandfather. Some pointed subtly, others exchanged whispers with wide eyes. I saw a woman in a pointed hat almost drop her wand when we passed by.
I frowned. "Grandpa… why is everyone staring at you ?"
He sighed, almost amused, and answered with a sly smile.
"Because I'm famous, boy."
"…What ?"
"Yes, because of my rune books. I use a pseudonym — Aldwin Crimson — but my face has appeared in special editions of the Daily Prophet, Advanced Runes, and even on the cover of Arcanum Magazine."
I stopped in the middle of the platform, shocked. "You never told me that !"
"You never asked," he said with the same calm, teasing tone he used when revealing we were descendants of Godric Gryffindor.
"Seriously, you have a thing for hiding the interesting parts of your life."
"And you have a thing for dramatizing everything. We're a perfect duo," he replied with a wink.
We continued walking until we approached the train. Before I boarded, my grandfather knelt in front of me, adjusting my dark red tie.
"It doesn't matter which house you end up in. You're a Gryffindor — not because of your name, but because of the choices you'll make. Be curious, but cautious. Trust few, but respect all. And above all…"
He touched my chest, over my heart.
"Remember who you are. No one can take that from you."
I nodded, holding back the emotion.
"Will you visit me at Christmas ?"
"Of course. And if I don't, Saphira will come flying to get me."
We laughed together.
Then I climbed into the train car. I looked out the window and saw my grandfather still standing tall amid the train's steam. And above, far in the sky, I saw a faint distortion in the air — like heat over a road.
It was Saphira. Discreet. Watchful.
Hogwarts was waiting for me.