Year 0 Part 4

… …

As I stepped back onto Diagon Alley, I smiled widely, twirling my wand around between my fingers, getting a feel for how it felt. The wand in my hand wasn’t the Lord’s Wand that I’d gotten to help me be confirmed as Chief MacLeod, however. This wand was my wand for Hogwarts, and while it wasn’t on par with how natural it felt in my hands compared to my Lord’s Wand, this one was what I’d be using at school.

Hogwarts, as I’d learnt from my history books, had been built as a castle, intended to help defend the Wizards of Britain against invaders from across the continent who came with their muggle counterparts to conquer the isles. Over time, as magicals slowly withdrew from directly involving themselves in muggle affairs, though long before the Statute was even a consideration, the castle had been converted into a school. There had been an earlier school for magicals in the British Isles, which amusingly, was called Avalon, but its location had been lost – or hidden – during wars with Norse and mainland European magicals.

When the change had taken place, young Lords and Chiefs were common in the isles; a side effect of different morals and more constant, violent wars. As a Lord’s Wand granted the user it was built for a distinct advantage when used, the Founders of Hogwarts, who had been the ones to build the castle and were still alive when the conversion took place, nearly two hundred years later, it had been determined that all students would use the same style of wand. That was one with a single core and wood. Over the centuries, various wandmakers had come and gone, using various woods and cores from all over the world, but through it all, the House Ollivander, one of only two Houses of Antiquity with active seats in the Wizengamot, had remained. And it was from their shop that I’d just emerged from.

Now, nothing said that a Chief, Lord, or Heir – who could get such a wand when they turned sixteen – couldn’t bring their Lord’s Wand to Hogwarts, only that for all spellcasting and the like on school grounds, the school-approved wand must be used. I wasn’t sure how that was enforced, as the registering of a Lord’s Wand wasn’t something that even the Wizengamot allowed, but perhaps it was something to do with the castle’s wards, which given its original purpose as a location for war, would be insanely impressive if ever fully raised.

If an Heir used their Lord’s Wand in class, then the wand would be confiscated and returned publicly, during a session of the Wizengamot to the Chief or Lord in question. That hadn’t happened in several centuries as the disgrace of such an event was extreme, and the poor sod it had happened to last had not only been stripped of their position as heir, but expelled from their family. If a Lord’s Wand was used elsewhere, then not only would a similar event occur, but depending on the spells cast and the reason for using it, the student in question could be suspended, expelled, or even sent to Azkaban in the hopes that would avoid creating feuds between powerful Clans or Houses.

As I continued to twirl my new wand, and the door to Ollivander’s shop closed behind me with the tinkling of the bell over the door, my mind returned to a story I’d read the day of my birthday in the Daily Prophet and other newspapers. Apparently, I would be the first Chief or Lord who was recognized by the Wizengamot, to attend Hogwarts in centuries, and the first to ever hold my position before at least beginning my studies at the castle. The story had passed, my existence no longer a thing of interest to the masses as I kept out of the public eye, but the fact my name would now be a nugget of information added to Hogwarts: A History was something that amused me. Hopefully, before my time in this world was over, my name would be remembered as something more than a footnote of trivia, but it was a start. Plus, it would be a nice way to introduce myself to others as I grew older, perhaps even opening a few doors that I might otherwise struggle to prise ajar.

All that, however, was a matter for the future. For now, my focus was on getting my school supplies today, and with that, I looked carefully at my new wand. It was about a foot long, and rigid, being made of ebony with the heartstring of a Hungarian Horntail. Heir Garrick Ollivander had explained that ebony was a wood seen in those with resolute convictions and intentions that would never waver, though it was the comment he made about the heartstring that drew my attention, along with an amused smirk of interest from him.

Apparently, he had used heartstrings from that dragon in several other wands, including the one used by Bellatrix Black. I’d not reacted visibly to the comment, or at least I didn’t think I had and instead muttered how it was nice to have a friend with the same core. For a child, that would seem innocent enough, but I knew Heir Garrick felt it meant something else.

Before I could turn my thoughts to Bellatrix, a paw flashed out from my left shoulder, and I pulled the wand to my right. “No, Xeno! That’s not for you,” I said, glaring at the raiju; or at least trying to as it was hard to turn and look at the creature as he was resting on my shoulder. I used my free hand, and flicked him on the nose, making his head snap back and an annoyed spit emerge from his mouth. Thankfully, he didn’t hiss, whine, or draw on his magic as he’d done in the shop. Heir Garrick had been amused by the raiju’s actions, though when I’d suggested paying for the small amount of damage Xeno had caused, Garrick had waved me off. Apparently, the raiju’s reaction was on par with how some wands reacted with prospective owners and the ship was charmed to ensure any damage done wasn’t permanent. “If you behave for the rest of the day, then we’ll get you a treat. However, act out again like you did in there, or try to chase an owl, then and no treats for a week.”

While Xeno spent almost all his time with me, whenever he was near an owl – be it one from the castle’s owlery or others that arrived to deliver mail to me – he tried to chase them. The various owls always got away, and most ignored Xeno’s behaviour though a few had hooted angrily at me for letting Xeno attack them.

If I could, I’d have left Xeno at Dunscaith Castle under the watchful eyes of Kadic and Aien, however, the bond between us was still new and weak, and being that far from him risked damaging the bond and hurting him. However, I’d already delayed getting my school supplies for nearly two months, both to ensure the bond could strengthen and to keep my family – or extended one at any rate – happy. It had taken three weeks before Xeno reached the point where he could be without physical contact for more than a few minutes, which was a relief as having to take such short, sharp showers was a nuisance. After those three weeks, Xeno was capable of being away from me, though he never left the room I was in, which was how things remained after around two months.

That had meant that, for most of the last two months, I’d had to limit what I did. Many of my tutoring sessions were cancelled, and trips into certain areas of the castle were limited at best. While it was unlikely he’d cause any issues, I was erring on the side of caution.

The jiggle of the door to Olivander’s caught my attention, and I turned. As expected, I saw Aunt Katrina emerge with my cousin Adele. Adele had a wide smile and was happily swishing her wand around. Hers was made of pear and had a unicorn core. Her mood dropped slightly when she saw me, which I assumed was because she was still annoyed that I was getting a second wand. That issue had come up when she and Aunt Katrina had come to Dunscaith castle to collect me and act as my escort, but Katrina had explained it, for what I suspected was the dozenth time, and the matter was settled. At least enough that Adele hadn’t brought it up again.

Adele’s birthday was about six weeks after mine, so waiting for her birthday to come to Diagon Alley and collect my supplies, when coupled with Xeno’s issues, made sense. Plus, it allowed Aunt Katrina to accompany me. While I should be safe in the Alley, my aunt and others felt better when there was someone with a connection to me to keep watch. Aunt Moire had also insisted that I inform her whenever I was heading to the Alley, and because of that a DMLE Enforcer was assigned as my guard with Today’s escort standing on the other side of the street.

It was impossible to know who the enforcer was, or even their gender, as their robes were charmed to hide such things, but I suspected whoever they were, Moire knew them or at least this superior, personally. I also suspected that there was at least another Enforcer nearby but disillusioned. The Auror core, of which Enforcers were just one rank, was known to work in equal numbers at all times, to ensure every operative – their word, not mine – had backup on hand.

This was all done because my aunts, ancestors, and others feared that someone might make an attempt on my life, trying to correct the mistake of me surviving the Summer Solstice Massacre nearly four years ago. Normally, I’d have dismissed that concern as over-the-top, however, the previous summer Heir MacKenzie, who I remembered from when I’d been recognized by the Wizengamot, had been attacked while at the magical district in Dublin. She’d graduated last year, so didn’t have any DMLE members with her, but had been lucky in that others nearby had stepped in to help.

That made it clear that, while those responsible were still unknown to the Ministry, they remained active. That was a black mark against the government for me, as no leads had led anywhere, and while the Minister had changed, it still felt as if part or all of the Ministry was dragging its feet over the matter.

While I was glad for the protection, I knew there’d be times I wanted to head to the Alley over the next few years without it being known I was here. For that though I’d be able to use glamours and potions to alter my appearance. That should be enough to allow me to move around, and enter some shops in Knockturn Alley, without drawing too much attention.

“Where should we head to now?” Katrina asked as she walked closer, her eyes darting for a moment to the Enforcer.

“I’d lik…”

“I want my owl!” I rolled my eyes at Adele cutting in. It wasn’t rude or anything, but it felt as if Katrina was asking me for suggestions.

“I think, perhaps, we should leave that to last. Xenocrates here has, from what I’ve seen, issues with owls, so it would be better to handle your owl without Dòmhnall present.”

“But I want to go!” Adele said, her heel slamming into the cobbles of the Alley.

“How about this,” I said, speaking before Katrina could argue with her daughter and make a scene. “We do everything else first, and then you head for an owl with your mother. Afterwards, I’ll treat you to something from Fortescue's.”

“Okay,” She said brightly, the annoyance fading away instantly, which given the quality of Fortescue's ice cream, wasn’t a surprise. They were, from their claims and my own ‘research’, the best place for ice cream in wizarding Britain. I’d yet to explore any muggle places for flavours and had little experience to draw upon from my other life as ice-cream parlours were long gone by the time I was a child, but I expected Fortescue’s claim was accurate even if muggle parlours were brought into play. Their location and parlour were certain to be the best as they had moving images on the wall to entertain and cater for witches and wizards of any age.

“Now that is settled, might I suggest we head to Madam Malkin’s?” Katrine offered hints of a smile on her face. Like my other aunts, Melania Black and a handful of women I had interactions with, whenever I was nice or spent time around their daughter or niece, they had a similar look. While it annoyed me to have them trying to plan out my future, I couldn’t do much about it so had to ignore them instead. “While not the most glamourous of supplies, your school robes are important and we need to ensure not only are they purchased, but the required extra enchantments are placed upon them.”

I nodded to my aunt and then turned to Adele. “After you,” I said with a slight lowering of my head. Anything more was an issue with Xeno resting on my shoulder. Adele giggled at my behaviour and then moved to her mother’s side. I fell in behind them and the DMLE Enforcer moved along behind us, keeping a few paces back. Wherever their partner was, they’d be, if I understood things correctly, taking point though not getting too far ahead in case someone slipped past them and attacked us.

Diagon Alley was about as busy as usual, though given I wasn’t here that often, I couldn’t be certain of that. Generally, when I had business here, such as with Gringotts, I took the Floo to the nearest exit. I’d been to see my Account Manager, Ranlor, earlier today before we’d moved to collect my wand.

Once more I’d headed down to Vaults 243 and 343, however, the magics protecting them were still far beyond me. I knew the incantations needed to lower those protections, as my grandfather had taught them to me. The issue was that my magic, or at least the control of it as it flowed from me, wasn’t sufficiently powerful or fine-tuned to allow me to overcome and disable the protections around the vaults. I wasn’t sure when I would be able to enter those vaults, and from how my ancestors spoke, doing so was a test they weren’t going to help me with.

Unlike my attempts to enter the vaults, the meeting with Ranlor had been much more successful and profitable. Gold had slowly increased over the last few years, and my investments there were growing. I knew, however, that the drastic changes would take place in the seventies, and so had increased my investment in muggle gold to around half a million Galleons. I’d also, remembering more from my history classes at school and university, invested the same amount in oil. Like gold, it too would take off soon as the muggle world began to change, and by the time I left Hogwarts, I’d expected the million I’d invested to be worth five to ten times as much.

I’d also, taking advantage of my potential future knowledge, moved to acquire small but impressive holdings in various muggle companies. The Goblins had several front companies that managed investments for magicals in the muggle world, but according to Ranlor, few if any bothered to play the stock markets. The knowledge needed to make that work required detailed knowledge and understanding of muggle business and politics. The obvious choices, for now, were the energy companies, and Ranlor had done as I’d asked with the investments, even going so far as to set up an account with Coutts in London so, if I ever needed to, I could access my muggle currency from the muggle world.

While those were useful investments, I was curious if making moves, once they existed, for the companies that had dominated in the twenty-first century was worth it. The chances of this world having the same shape as the one I’d come from were slim. That said, I’d instructed Ranlor to look into companies that were involved in computers, automated production, and so forth. Those fields wouldn’t begin to become important until the last few decades of this century, but keeping an eye on them just in case.

Ranlor had asked why I was investing so heavily in the muggle world. While my family did not deny interest in their world, we’d generally kept our interests focused on the magical world. My answer had been vague, hinting at a possible prophecy my family held, and how I felt it might be about to come true. As the investments were steadily growing and showing returns, he accepted my explanation. Though that, and the fact the Goblins had companies for investing in the muggle world meant that even if the majority of magical families didn’t do so, they and a small number of families did.

One other possible avenue of making cash, though it was far riskier and less scrupulous, was the drug trade. Again, from my studies, I knew that cocaine and marijuana were very popular in the seventies and eighties. However, I wasn’t sure about investing in those, or if, perhaps, I’d step on the toes of far less respectable wizards as myself. It was also, by and large, controlled from South America, where Gringotts didn’t have much of an influence. Instead, the magical world’s banking there was controlled by creatures called Duende. There was some form of bad blood or dislike between them and the goblins of Gringotts and other banks, but sadly the few books that focused on the goblins never went into detail about their relations with anyone other than wizards.

“I wish we could wear more than black at Hogwarts,” Adele said, taking me from my thoughts. After blinking, it looked to my right, seeing she’d slowed so we were walking together. “Why can’t we wear other colours?”

“I assume it’s because the houses have colours linked to them, so the school wants everyone to have the same starting colour.” Honestly, discussing clothing wasn’t even remotely interesting, but Adele was interested in this and as she was the only person I could talk with, I had to endure it. Plus, if I ignored her entirely, then it might insult her and Aunt Katrina.

“OK.” There was a moment of silence before Adele leapt and spun my way. Xeno hissed at her, though he was on my other side, and my hand grasped my wand tightly. “Kimberly told me that when she went to get her robes before the Winter Solstice break, there were some lovely sweaters there. She showed me the one she bought, and I want to get one as well.” Kimberly was, from what I remembered, one of Adele’s closest friends and would be starting Hogwarts with us next school year. Beyond that, and that she had blonde hair and a very irritating voice – as in, it reminded me of claws on a blackboard – I didn’t know anything about the other girl.

“Okay,” I replied slowly, pushing down my irritation at spending longer than necessary in a clothing shop.

“We’re not here for you to buy clothes, Adele,” Katrina cut in, “particularly since, with winter soon to end, there is no need for a new sweater for the colder weather." That had me sighing in relief. “However, if you behave while being fitted for your school robes, then I might permit you to browse Lady Malkin’s spring collections.” There went my relief. “Perhaps Dòmhnall might even be willing to assist you.” And now the relief had turned into dread.

“Oh, will you? Will you?” Adele asked, pulling incessantly on my sleeve.

On my other side, Xeno’s hissing grew louder, and for a moment, I considered letting him scratch her. The moment passed quickly, however, without me acting on the idea. “Perhaps,” I said slowly to my quickly becoming annoying cousin. “But if we dally too long there, and struggle to get the rest of our supplies, and other supplies I need for my lessons, then there might not be time to head to Fortescue’s.”

Adele’s mood fell at her mother’s words. “Okay,” she muttered, and I bit back the urge to chuckle at how easily her emotions swung around. Yes, she was young, but it was amusing.

We kept walking, passing by Gringotts, and I wondered how long today would take. While I didn’t have any other plans for the day, I’d rather not spend the entirety of it with my excitable cousin and her mother. Especially if she felt a need to try on every item of clothing in Malkin’s, or wanted to wander into every shop that caught her eye. Then again, if there were a few shops she wanted to go to that I didn’t, I might be able to get away and head to a few places that I wanted to visit without the pair as an escort. There was no way I was losing the enforcer, but I could live with that as so far, he’d remained outside when I’d entered anywhere.

… …

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… …

In the end, we spent about an hour and a half in Madam Malkin’s. Getting robes fitted and ordering them, along with a host of enchantments that I’d not known were options, for both myself and Adele had only taken about thirty minutes. The extra hour had been dealing with Adele as she browsed the spring clothing collections, for both herself and me, and continually asked for my opinion or suggestions.

While it had been tolerable, I found myself missing the simplicity of jeans, a t-shirt and a sweater as being fine to wear for ninety per cent of the day and occasions. I knew that world was gone from me, but being forced to endure clothes shopping with very regal and formal stylings with an eleven-year-old girl had me missing my old life.

Still, that was finally over, and after Katrina had bought some of the clothes Adele wanted, and I’d been convinced to purchase some new clothing for myself, that I never intended to wear unless dealing with Adele, I’d been allowed to choose where we headed next. That was why I now found myself on the second floor of Flourish and Blotts, searching through the various books here.

My school books were already in the basket floating beside me. It was charmed to follow me via my wand and was charmed to both not spill over – in case someone walked into it – and seemingly bottomless. My school books, which had all been on the first floor, were inside, as were several new books on various new ideas and branches of transfiguration, charms, and runic arrays and concepts. While I might not understand the majority of what those books were discussing, having the knowledge in my head might give me another advantage when it came time to push beyond my school work.

On the second floor, while Adele was dragged around by Katrina through the potions section on the floor below, I was browsing the vast array of history books on offer. The changes that had taken place in this world after the Statute had come into effect had always held my interest, which was a carry-over from my other life. While I’d not majored in it, History had always held a fascination for me, so much so that it was what I’d minored in at university.

Now, in this world, I was learning everything I could about not just the changes in the magical world that had occurred since the Statute, but how the muggle world had, at the beginning of the eighteenth century, been slightly different due to the presence of magic. Since I’d retained an interest in history, which was serving me well with investments, a lot of my focus was on learning about the differences between this world, both magical and muggle, and the one the other part of me had come from.

Just as in the world that part of me had come from, most of the various empires that had risen and fallen had done so here. However, some either didn’t last as long as their counterparts in the other world or had not grown to the size the other variant had. The best example of this, at least in Europe, was the Ottoman Empire.

It had risen to replace the Byzantine Empire, but due to the strength of magic in the Greek City States, Egypt, magically-boosted Holy Roman Empire, and the united but isolated from their muggle counterparts even before the Statute magicals governments of the middle east, the Ottomans had never become as powerful in this world’s history. They weren’t the only example of a change that had existed in history from before the Statute came into effect, but one of the larger examples of such a change within Europe.

Egypt was much as it had been in its glory days and controlled vast swathes of land in Northern Africa and the Arabian Peninsula. The magicals living there had, with the rise of Islam and then the Crusades, withdrawn from muggle affairs, and had been separated from the muggle world for nearly a millennia. Technically most of the Middle East were independent states, but in reality, they were client states of the Magical Kingdom of Egypt. It should, however, be noted that Egypt, like much of the magical world, no longer had a royal family. Instead, it was ruled by the Seven Families, all of whom traced their lineage back to the pharaohs and viziers of old.

Western North Africa, encompassing everything from Tunisia, through Morocco and down to Mauritania, was called the New Carthaginian Domain. Much like the Middle East, the magicals here had pulled back from the muggle world with the rise of Islam, which had shown, unlike other Abrahamian religions, a great distaste for magic almost from its founding. Because of that, they did not support the Moorish invasions and conquests of the Iberian Peninsula. While those had gained some ground, Iberia had less African influence on its architecture, and now, in the magical world, was united in the Iberian Federation.

The Federation was made up of modern-day Spain, Portugal, and Andora, along with a small number of overseas holdings. To its north was the Magical French Republic, which was one of the few countries that aligned with a muggle-world compatriot almost perfectly. Britain could almost be included in that, save that the Republic of Ireland in the muggle world didn’t exist in the magical world, though there was less issue about that here as the entire isles had united to defend against various invasions over the millennia.

The Lowland Confederation and the United German States had formed from smaller countries there seeking common protection against larger threats. The northern threat came from the Norse League, while the other threats in Europe came from the Austrian and Polish-Lithuanian magical Empires and the Italian Trade League. The latter was dominated by magical centres in Venice, Naples, Genoa, and Rome.

The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

Further to the east lay the large, and to many in Europe, threatening the presence of the Russian Winter Union. The Union was ruled by a Council that was supposedly elected, but from my research, the same dozen or so names kept coming up about who sat on this Council which suggested, much like Egypt, it was ruled over by a group of powerful, dominating families.

Asia, at least once beyond the Middle East and ignoring Russia, was dominated by two powers. The Mughal Empire controlled most of the Indian sub-continent – though it wasn’t called that in the magical world – and the Glorious Magical LongHua Dynasty controlled everything eastward of Tibet, including modern-day China. The LongHua Dynasty was the single largest country in the magical world, yet its birth had been, perhaps, the most bloody of the countries that rose after the Statute.

When the Statute came into effect, the Qing Dynasty lost control of magical China as none from the main line of Emperors had magical blood. The magical advisors to the Emperor had gone to war with each other to assume control of the massive empire. And in the end, while the war had been short, it had been bloody, with estimates placing between twenty and forty per cent of the population being wiped out. When the LongHua Dynasty emerged, it did so with four client-states, which granted it an overly large, though not dominating, presence in the ICW where things worked on a one-country, one-vote system mixed with extra votes based on the overall population.

That war for control and power had broken out in the magical world after the Statute, as it had continued to do so in the muggle world wasn’t, unfortunately, a huge surprise to me. Those with power always wanted to protect what they had and sought more thinking it made them safer from threats. The only upside was that wars in the current magical world were unusual, and when they were fought, they were often short and not focused on mass casualties.

With the magical world being far smaller than the muggle one, and that gap growing daily, then wiping out entire families and bloodlines was so fucking foolish I struggled to find words to express my rage against it. And that was before I considered what my family had endured. The world, be it magical or muggle, was slowly being damaged and ruined by the excesses of the masses. The damage might not be as obvious in the magical world as it was in the muggle one, but both sides had to do better. Not just to ensure the planet, and all that lived on it survived, but that we retained our honour and traditions in doing so. Otherwise, we were no better than animals.

“Um, hi.”

The unexpected voice drew my attention from the book I was flicking through – one detailing the rise of the LongHua Dynasty – to its source. Standing to my right was a boy around my age. His clothing, a bright yellow sweater and flared jeans made it clear he was muggleborn, as no wizard would wear anything like that. Though a few, too many in my opinion, worse robes that made anything in the muggle world seem positively tame in comparison.

“Yes?” I said back, wondering why this boy had approached me. I wasn’t going to dismiss him simply for being muggleborn, nor the lack of decorum as most muggles lacked understanding of that, but I disliked being interrupted while with a good book.

“Uh, why is there a cat on your shoulder?”

I chuckled at the question and, after closing the book in my hands, lifted on hand to scratch Xeno under the chin. “That’s because Xenocrates here isn’t a cat per se. At least not a normal one. He has magic and was a gift for my birthday. Because of that, he needs to bond with me, which means keeping him with me all the time.”

“Oh… that’s… different.” The boy replied, caught unprepared for my answer. “Are all animals around here magical?”

“Most, yes, though not all,” I answered with a chuckle. “And not all magical creatures are good pets. Xeno here is good. Normally.”

The boy chuckled. “Is it because he’s magical that he has such a name?”

“More or less,” I answered slowly, bringing my hand away from Xeno, much to the raiju’s annoyance. “I wanted to name him Flash, but I was told it was a bad name.”

“Why?”

A small urge appeared to ignore the boy and return to the book I’d been browsing. However, I ignored it. The boy, who had still to introduce himself, appeared simply curious and while the lack of manners was irritating, it was understandable. For now. “I come from an important family and have an important position in it. So, I have to pick a regal name,” I made a funny voice as I said that to see how he reacted, “for my companion.”

As I’d expected, the boy chuckled at my tone, but he seemed to move past it quickly. “Ah, then I’m sorry. I didn’t introduce myself.” He extended a hand. “I’m Bradley Cooper.” As he spoke, he lowered his head, indicating some understanding of manners and protocol.

“Dòmhnall MacLeod,” I replied as we shook hands. “And I guess you’re new to all this?” I added, gesturing at the shop around us. The fact he’d at least remembered to introduce himself was a small plus for him, but I’d need to know more before I considered what, if any, use there was in maintaining contact with him before we started Hogwarts.

“Yes! Magic is wicked!” He all but shouted as we stopped shaking hands. “Sorry.”

I smirked. “It's fine. I’d expect learning that the world you’d lived in wasn’t the world meant for you would be a shock. And yeah, the Alley is something special.”

“I know! I mean, having that strange man come to the door and give me the letter was odd.” He looked around before he continued. “I thought my parents were joking with me, but then he used his stick to turn my mum’s favourite vase into a horse. She screamed in shock when it started running around the room.”

I laughed gently at the image. “Yes, I think that’s how most muggles would.” Bradley’s face scrunched up. “A muggle is someone without any hint of magic. I would’ve thought that the man who brought your letter explained this?”

“No, no he didn’t. He just made Mum’s vase into a horse, said magic was real, turned it back to a vase, and left the letters with me.” I felt a frown forming upon hearing that. “We took the train from Bristol to get here.”

“And no one met you at the Leaky Cauldron?” That someone went to explain what was going on to muggleborns was good, but everything else I was hearing was concerning. There was no attempt to explain and integrate new witches and wizards into our world, and that was beyond fucking stupid. I could, with a bit of thought, see why both Traditionalists and Progressives wanted that, but it didn’t mean it wasn’t a stupid decision.

“No. I mean, the wizard left another letter telling us where to go and what to do and told us to go to Gringotts for money help, but that was it.”

I barely held back a sigh of annoyance. I had no idea if Bradley would be one of those muggleborns who’d want to change our world or one of those who wanted to settle into it properly, but the sheer, blatant, lack of interest in even attempting to integrate him and other muggleborns into the world was fucking insulting.

“Which school were you invited to attend?”

“Hogwarts.”

I nodded at hearing that. For a muggleborn to get into Hogwarts they had to be powerful, so that meant Bradley might be of use to me in some way in future. “Have you got your school stuff yet?” I asked, sensing an opportunity to at least see how easy it would be to convince and control muggleborns.

While I wasn’t sure yet what I wanted from them, next year Lily Evans would attend Hogwarts. As she was regarded as the brightest witch of her age, getting her friendship had the potential to be extremely useful. The same also applied to Snape, but I was unsure of how to handle his developing infatuation with Lily. Bradley here would allow me to test some ideas I had about gaining the friendship of a muggleborn without coming across as a sycophant of Dumbledores.

“Some of them,” Bradley replied, and he reached into his pocket. “We went to the bank, with those weird things, and were given these magic coins.” I chuckled at hearing someone calling Galleons magic money. “My dad can’t seem to see them but I can, and I was told I need to get a vault to store my money in.”

“Unless you have a lot of Galleons, you shouldn’t need a vault,” I replied, understanding quickly what the goblins were doing. It made sense from their perspective, but it was another little sign that the Ministry or Wizengamot, for varying political reasons, wasn’t moving to help and teach muggleborns. “How much exactly did the goblins give you?”

“About a hundred and fifty Galleons,” Bradley replied with a wide smile, his fingers rubbing over the edge of the coin in his hand. “Along with this nifty bag that can hold all the coins and you don’t even feel it.”

“Hmm.” I knew the law stated that new muggleborns were to get two hundred galleons when they first entered the magical world, and a further hundred each year while attending school.

The bag, if it was a standard bottomless satchel, would cost somewhere between five and ten Galleons while the setting up of a vault cost a further ten Galleons. That meant for every muggleborn, Gringotts was skimming ten to twenty per cent of the money for themselves. A fair scheme and one the Ministry likely knew of and allowed to happen. The Ministry didn’t want trouble with the goblins, not after the last rebellion around a hundred and fifty years ago. Still, all this just fed into my disgust at the way muggleborns were treated.

Now, I wasn’t saying that muggleborns were perfect, and the lack of manners and decorum – Bradley’s yellow sweater deserved to be introduced to the Incendio charm – but this exploitation of them served to keep a significant element of our people isolated from the rest. Merlin, if the worst ever happened and there was war between muggles and magicals, muggleborns were a key resource both sides would want to either control or remove. Yet, from the moment they stepped into this world, muggleborns were exploited. Which they only helped continue when many of them tried to import what they considered superior muggle ideals and concepts into the magical world.

“It is nice that the Ministry helps you get settled,” I said, not wanting to linger too long and have Bradley wonder what was wrong. “And that Gringotts can change Pounds to Galleons. Which supplies have to be grabbed?”

“My dad made me get the uniform first. He thinks it’s girly.” Well, the father was now getting jinxed as soon as I saw him. “And then we came here. I love reading!”

I sighed and pulled my Hogwarts wand from its holster. “So you don’t have this yet?” I asked and before he could ask what it was, or why I was holding a stick, I silently cast the levitation charm and lifted several of the books on the shelves next to us into the air.

“Whoa! That’s wicked!” He moved closer only to stop when Xeno hissed. “Is that your wand?”

“Yes,” I replied as I returned the various books to their correct positions. What I’d just done was beyond where a First Year should be, to say nothing of someone not yet at Hogwarts, but that was the point. I wanted to make an impression on Bradley so that, if he proved skilled, I might be of use to me in the future. “Your wand, which should’ve been the first thing you collected after sorting out your money, is the single greatest thing about being a wizard it lets you cast spells of almost any kind.”

“Is there a spell to kill spiders? I hate spiders!”

The image of dropping Bradley off in the Haunted Forest to see an acromantula popped into my mind, making me chuckle. “Yes, there are spells to remove spiders and a great many other things. However, from what I know, we won’t be learning those in our first year.” I flicked my wand and Bradley stumbled back as his hands changed to match his sweater. “Your wand is the gateway to the world you were born for; not the one you were born into. In the hands of a truly skilled witch or wizard, a wand lets you do great and wondrous things.”

Yes, I was borrowing Garrick’s line, but it was a good line and worthy of being reused. Bradley was going to Hogwarts, so he had potential, and while I couldn’t say yet if that potential could be of use to me, I felt making as good a first impression as possible was warranted. I’d have to examine in detail the rules regarding muggleborns to see what, if any loopholes existed for me to gain their loyalty and support. While it was unlikely, those like Lily, or Ted Tonks, might be of use to me whenever I started building my support base. After all, for all his faults, Tom Riddle had been smart to build a group of loyal, resolute followers while at Hogwarts so why shouldn’t I do the same?

I didn’t have the same goals as he now styled himself, Lord Voldemort, or Dumbledore, and I had to find another path forward. Voldemort wanting to exterminate all muggleborns and muggles was an extreme that only appealed to those of a similar mind. Or those who were meant only to follow blindly as sheep. Dumbledore’s position was less obvious, but it appeared he wanted strife from the new ideas brought forth by muggles. Neither of those goals were logical and would only lead, in the short or long term, to the death of the magical world.

While the middle ground between them was vast, it was hard to defend as I’d be threatened by both. However, it was, from what I could tell, the safest path to take. It also, thankfully, aligned with my opinions on the matter that magic, be it pureblood, half-blood, muggleborn, or from any of the myriad of magical beasts and creatures, was superior to that of the muggles. Grindelwald, for all his crimes, hadn’t been wrong in saying the muggles were a threat to the world. He simply lacked the future knowledge I did of just how great that threat was.

A flick of my wand had Bradley’s hands return to their proper colour. “Now,” I said, regaining his attention, “before I offer any further help, we must find your father. After that, and with my aunt’s permission, I will escort you and him to Ollivander’s.”

“But the books,” Bradley whined as I turned.

“They will be here when we return,” I said, offering him a smile. “And so long as you don’t ask too much, I’ll be happy to help show you what books you might like.” It seemed Bradley had that spark to read that Hermione did, though thankfully, without the insufferable know-it-tall mentality. It was early to say, but I felt Bradley would make a good Ravenclaw. Perhaps, if he had a smidgen of cunning, Slytherin, though I’d not want to drop a muggleborn into the house that, in theory, was the least receptive to them.

“Okay.”

Bradley fell into step just behind and to my right, as if it was natural for him to follow, which was an encouraging sign. My thoughts, as we reached the stairs, were on how Aunt Katrina would react. She’d not displayed any clear signs one way or the other regarding muggleborns in general, but her feelings on former Minister Leech were easy to detect during our lessons. She might not be intentionally hiding them, but even if she was I sensed her dislike for the former Minister. The question would be if it extended to other muggleborns, or simply fools and idiots regardless of background.

Whatever her feelings on the matter, I knew she’d mention this to her husband, her sisters and my ancestors. While the first wasn’t someone I interacted with much, I knew my ancestors would question my motives. Hopefully, my answers would be acceptable to them. Ideally, they’d give me advice for my experiment with Bradley, and when it worked, be receptive to me seeking out other muggleborns and those raised in the muggle world to take them under my guidance.

Merlin, if it went well, then when it became time for Andromeda to elope with Ted Tonks – if that still occurred – then I might be granted permission to shelter the couple. I doubted there was anything I could do to prevent Arcturus from expelling her from House Black, nor would I try to as that was House business, but if he was willing to let me take the pair in, then I might help shift opinions of him and others within House Black.

… …

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… …

All told, meeting Bradley’s father, talking with Aunt Katrina, and then returning to Ollivander’s took about an hour to finish. The extra time wasn’t spent on waiting for Bradley to sort out his wand, but from dealing with various questions he peppered Aunt Katrina and myself was – at least until my aunt gently reminded him of expected behaviour – and then heading with Bradley so he could purchase an owl.

When I’d last seen him, he’d been fighting between shock at the owl that rested happily and safely on his forearm, and his father dancing around like he had wasps in his trousers. He didn’t, but the jinx that I’d cast upon him made him think there were. That was the third jinx I’d placed on Bradley’s father, and not just because he seemed unimpressed, or perhaps concerned, about magic. He’d also expressed annoyance at how primitive the Alley seemed and a distaste for the goblins. While the latter was not uncommon among magicals, calling the Alley primitive made it hard to not dismiss him as an unimportant pion.

However, because of that, a plan had formed in my mind the longer I’d been around Bradley. The boy had some potential, but it was clear he adored his father. While it was underhanded, if I could engineer a situation where Bradley no longer felt a strong attachment to the muggle world, instead, through our friendship, feeling a kinship toward the magical word, I might be able to convince him that the problems lay in both worlds and both needed fixing. I wasn’t sure if this was a wise plan, but Bradley was the perfect target to work with. At least so long as, when we reached Hogwarts, we didn’t fall into the Gryffindor-Slytherin rivalry.

With Bradley now gone, but promising to send me a letter via his owl before the weekend was over, I found myself down one of the three side streets of Diagon Alley. Knockturn Alley, as in the other timeline, existed here, but so did Stardust Way and Enchanting Exchange. The latter was not much more than a market square, where witches and wizards sold various items from stalls set up around the cul-de-sac, or one of the smaller buildings there. However, it was the former, which focused on rarer, or more expensive items, that I found myself in.

Adele had drifted into an importer of foreign sweets and delicacies, Katrina going with her, while I’d made my way toward Arnold’s L'apothicaire D'étonnement. The shop was, as the name in French said, an apothecary, though it was one that specialized in rare, highly restricted imports of potion, medical, and ritual supplies. The only people allowed to enter the shop were those who were recognized as Chiefs or Lords with seats in the Wizengamot, an heir accompanied by their Lordly parent or if a member of a seated Clan or House had a signed letter from their Family’s leader. Even though I was young, and had no need of any of the supplies inside, I headed here regularly ever since Arcturus had introduced it, and many of the shops in Stardust Way, to me.

The door opened as I approached, the bell above on the inside alerting whoever was working to my arrival, though it thankfully didn’t rouse Xeno who had decided to snooze around my shoulders. Walking over the threshold, I felt a wave of magic wash over me, which drew a reaction from my torc. That was a common feature on the various shops in Stardust Way, and while the check – however it worked – didn’t stop anyone from entering, the fact it reacted to my torc, and the marker that other Chiefs and Lords held, meant it was easy to sense when a non-noble entered the premises.

Behind the counter, an older man, whom I knew was Mathis Arnold, the owner of the shop. His family was a branch of the French House of Arnold, who’d moved to Britain a few centuries ago. Mathis’ father held a seat in the Wizengamot, much like the Malfoys, who also had a branch in France, though they’d come over when William the Conqueror had taken the English throne.

Mathis gave me a look, wondering why a child was entering his store, but relaxed when I held up my arm and had the torc appear. After that, he returned to whatever he was reading on the counter and, after collecting a basket, I moved to examine the various items in this apothecary.

While none of the ingredients in this shop would be useful for my First-Year classes, and probably not even until NEWTs if I took potions, they had other values. These were rare ingredients, the sort that most people couldn’t acquire without permits, or for which limits existed. Outside of Hogwarts, places like the DoM and the magical hospitals, the only ones able to purchase these items in anything more than minuscule portions were Chiefs and Lords. Thus, there was a small, but useful, potential market for them in Hogwarts.

I wasn’t intending to involve myself in politics in my first year, but the chances of me avoiding it were slim. My position ensured that many would want the measure of me, with some likely wanting my support, or the promise of it once I was old enough to take my seat. While I wasn’t going to give any that if I could avoid it, there would be those at Hogwarts and beyond who wanted rarer items that were hard to acquire for them. Using these ingredients, and others to curry favour and influence in the early years was something I intended to do.

My ancestors, though my aunts, had a chest commissioned for me for Hogwarts. It had dozens of compartments, all of which were basically bottomless, and with the whole chest being charmed to be virtually weightless, and with only a small amount of space being needed for my school supplies and anything else I thought I would need, I’d descended to put the rest of it to use.

While most of the extra supplies would be items I could use to curry favours or sell at inflated prices to purebloods and half-bloods, I also intended to bring decent supplies for muggleborns. Sweets, chocolate, general supplies and the like from the muggle world would be worth, to muggleborns at any rate, far more than rare magical ingredients. While I didn’t know what, if any use, acquaintances with muggleborns would bring, I wasn’t going to discount a sizable portion of the student population for ways to gain influence and power.

I’d have preferred to not have to play the game, so to speak, from the moment I stepped onto the train to Hogwarts for the first time, however, I knew it couldn’t be avoided. Beyond comments and remarks from my cousins, over the Winter Break, Bellatrix had been quite forthcoming regarding the move being made in her house.

Rodolphus Lestrange, who was a year above Bellatrix, had made clear his intent to seek her hand in marriage. While house Lestrange was an Ancient one, it wasn’t, in comparison to Clan MacLeod and the other Ancient Houses, impressive. Yes, they could trace their ancestry back a long way, but through several generations of mistakes, they’d fallen, relatively speaking, on hard times. A marriage to a Black, even one not descended from Arcturus, would grant them increased influence and prestige.

Bellatrix was clear in her distaste for Rodolphus, but in the end, there was little she could do about it. As a child of a powerful family, any pairing for her required the approval of Arcturus. The only upside for her, and possibly myself as I wondered if Rodolphus was the reason Bellatrix had fallen under the sway of Voldemort as what I knew of Bellatrix didn’t suggest a desire to grind all muggleborns and muggles beneath her heel, was that there was nothing official yet. Bellatrix wasn’t sixteen, so even if private negotiations were taking place over the betrothal, nothing was official as of yet, though it would only be a few years before it became so.

As much as I might dislike the pairing, and Rodolphus, though that was based on Bellatrix’s opinion of him, there was little I could do to help in the matter, not with vastly intruding on the business of other Houses. Nor was I going to suggest anything as insane as a betrothal between myself and Bellatrix. Ignoring the gap in age between us – which was large currently, but wouldn’t be such an issue once we were both adults – I wasn’t even at Hogwarts yet, and as such had fuck all intent of dealing with such matters for as long as I could. I knew that, at some point, I’d have to face up to the fact I needed a betrothed, but that could wait until, if I was lucky, my fourth year, and when the time came, I had the unique ability to have full control over my choice.

The sound of the bell at the door drew my attention from a glass of glowworms from the Himalayas, and I saw two people enter. The man looked to me in his mid-forties, but with magic, it was hard to be sure of age, and he had a boy with him. The child looked to be about my age and bore a clear resemblance to the man. It only took a moment for me to place the man as Lord Fredrick Bickerstaffe. His house was, like Clan MacLeod, an Ancient one, though they were a far younger House than my Clan.

I quickly pulled up what I knew of Lord Bickerstaffe, remembering things Arcturus, Melania, and my Aunts had said about him, and the odd snippets where his name was mentioned in a newspaper. The previous Lord Bickerstaffe had died a few years ago from Dragon Pox, and his son was still a slightly unknown quantity. From what I could gather, he might possibly be a Progressive Builder, but he wasn’t one to blindly support the bills that I or Arcturus felt were guided by Dumbledore.

Lord Bickerstaffe gave Mathis a nod and displayed whatever it was that marked him as a Lord, which I couldn’t see from my location, before turning. His eyes found me, and he offered a nod though it was clear he didn’t know who I was. I returned the nod and then resumed my shopping. The glowworms were placed inside my basket, alongside some hair from a wendigo, feathers of a rainbow crow, and fangs from an El Cadejo.

After adding a pint of blood from a Persian Ironmaw – a rare and highly restricted breed of dragon – I move toward the counter. While there was far more I could purchase, even a Chief or Lord had to limit themselves to a small number of items each trip, and they could only purchase something once a month.

As I rounded the corner of a large display near the counter, I saw someone else moving. While I stopped and attempted to backpedal, they were engrossed in whatever was in the jar they were carrying and walked into me.

“OW!” Xeno hissed loudly at the boy’s cry, and things grew worse as the jar fell to the floor. While it didn’t shatter, likely due to charms, the lid came ajar, and a small swarm of beetles rushed out. “What?”

Even as the boy tried to figure out what was happening, my wand was already out. “Immobulus.” The second-year charm was one I could cast, but not silently, nor it seemed, over a large number of targets. About half the beetles froze in place, though others kept scurrying around.

“Xeno!” I called out as the raiju leapt from my shoulder. Sparks danced around him as he pounced on the first beetle, only to hiss and wince in pain, pulling back from the sharp jaws of the beetle he’d concerned. “Immobulus,” I called again, pushing more magic into the spell.

While it worked to freeze the remaining beetles, or at least the ones that hadn’t slipped under the display shelves, it also managed to freeze the boy. Xeno, seeing his chance, smacked the now-frozen beetle that had hurt him, sending it careening into a nearby display of Incan Firewings. The bug didn’t knock any of the vials containing various sections of the magical butterflies, instead making a racket as it pinged off the various vials and jars.

“Xeno! No!” I snarled, even as I looked at the various beetles on the floor. Placing my basket down, I picked up the jar the boy had dropped and, with the critters still frozen, began lifting them back into the jar. Xenocrates watched intently, and I knew he wanted another of the bugs to play with, though I wasn’t going to let him do so.

While nothing of value seemed to have been damaged or lost, bar the few beetles that had scurried away before I could freeze them, that this had happened at all was an embarrassment. As I lifted more of the beetles into the jar with a silently cast levitation charm, I spoke to the boy. “I do hope tha…” my words trailed off as I saw he, like the beetles, was frozen in place. “Ah,” I mumbled as I realised that my spell had caught him in its area of effect and that he was Lord Bickerstaffe’s son.

“What exactly is occurring here?”

I turned at the voice, keeping a few beetles floating in mid-air as I did so, and saw Lord Bickerstaffe. “Lord Bickerstaffe,” I began, lowering my head and allowing the torc to appear on my forearm. “My apologies for how this looks, but I assure you that the status of your son was entirely unintended.” As I spoke I dropped the last few beetles into the jar. After resecuring the lid, I stopped the magic within me flowing into the spell, and the beetles and boy unfroze.

“How dare you!” The boy began, taking a step toward me, a hand raising. “Don’t you know who I am?”

I kept my focus on the father, but I couldn’t stop some annoyance from slipping onto my face, nor Xeno from hissing angrily enough that sparks of lightning flickered along his spine.

“I do not, though I do know that you would be wise to both know who I am and to keep your focus on where you are heading instead of whatever shiny object you have in your hands.”

“Why you…”

“Francis!” Lord Bickerstaffe called out, taking a step toward me, his hand close to where I assumed his wand was holstered. “What are you doing?”

“This, this ignorant cumberwald is moving above his station, father,” the now-named Francis, shot back. While I could turn toward him, given Xeno’s reaction and the fact I held the jar he’d dropped in one and my Hogwarts wand in the other, I felt it was wiser to not provoke the boy further. Even if, with a name like Francis, he had it coming.

“That is enough Francis!” Lord Bickerstaffe snapped, his tone deepening as his anger seeped out. “Regardless of how exactly this unfortunate accident occurred, it is you who is acting out of their station.” Bickerstaffe turned back to me. “My sincerest apologies for my heir’s uneducated comments, Chief MacLeod.”

“It is quite alright, Lord Bickerstaffe,” I replied lowering my head in accepting his apology. “In Francis’,” I fought to keep a smirk from forming, “place, I may have reacted the same. Though, I, perhaps more than any other child that might enter this exclusive store, would have cause to display misdirected importance.”

Bickerstaffe’s lips twitched, suggesting he caught the faint joke in my words. “Yes, you probably would. That you haven’t is an indication of the quality of the emergency teachings given to you by Lord Black... That said, I must say, your skill with formality, and your apparent ability to cast beyond your years, is a most impressive sight. As is the beast upon your shoulders.”

“Xenocrates here is young and easily agitated,” I said, lifting my wand hand upward to scratch the raiju. “A failing common in many, both beast and wizard.”

“Indeed it is, though I expect better of a witch or wizard, even one born to muggles.” That dig, along with a hard stare, was aimed at Francis. “I do hope that, however, this unfortunate incident occurred, you won’t hold the aftermath against myself, my heir, or my House.”

“Certainly not, Lord Bickerstaffe. Children will, as is their wont, behave inappropriately on occasion. Something that, with age, most can overcome.” I turned and faced Francis, noting the lack of colour in his face and the wilderness of his pupils. “Heir Bickerstaffe, might I presume that you shall be attending Hogwarts next year?”

“I,” Francis paused and licked his lips. “I will indeed, Chief MacLeod. And on behalf of myself, I offer my sincere apologies both for my unacceptable outburst and my lack of awareness that led to this accident.”

“Your apology, while unneeded, is appreciated,” I said, tilting my head downward. “I do hope that, when we next meet to board the Express, we might begin again on more adventitious footing?”

“I would prefer that as well, Chief MacLeod.”

“Please, if we are to be yearmates, if not necessarily housemates, then you are free, outside of formal occasions, to call me by my name.” I extended my hand to offer a handshake, only to remember that I was holding the jar. “I believe this is yours?”

“Yes,” Francis reached out and took the jar. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Chief MacLeod. You are, as much as you might dislike it, a topic of much debate among myself and my friends.”

“As I am, I’m sure, with many. While I would prefer to be left to my own machinations, I can understand the curiosity my position brings,” I replied as we shook hands, formally greeting each other. “I look forward to speaking with you once we are at Hogwarts?”

“If it might not be an imposition,” Francis began as we broke our greeting, “perhaps we might speak before then? My father is hosting a formal dinner to celebrate my mother’s birthday. I understand if you would prefer to avoid such events, as I do,” a smile flickered onto his face hinting at his distaste for acting so formally, “but as recompense for my mistake, I wish to extend an invitation.”

“I will, of course, consider the invitation, though until I know the date I cannot confirm if I would be able to attend.” I’d rather not go at all, but blowing this heir off might sour relations between me and his House. I just hoped I wasn’t expected to find a date as my options were extremely limited because it was during the school term. Though, if it was possible, perhaps one of my elder cousins at Hogwarts would be willing to spend an evening of torture with me. It would cost me, but taking someone more mature than those my age was always preferable.

“Then once we have returned to our manor, with my parent’s permission, I shall dispatch an invitation.”

“Please. Until then, Heir Bickerstaffe, Lord Bickerstaffe, I bid you adieu,” I offered both a bow of my head, which they returned. Francis’ bow was lower as he was beneath myself and his father in the hierarchy of our world. “If I do not hurry up, I fear my aunt, who is escorting me today, will enter these premises and attempt to drag me from the store ear-first.”

That drew an amused smile from Lord Bickerstaffe, and as I walked forward, he moved to allow me to pass. While Aunt Katrina wouldn’t make such a social faux-pas, Adele, in her desire for ice cream from Fortescue’s might. Plus, after the long-than-expected day spent in the Alley, I wouldn’t deny that a large bowl of ice cream, topped with the right assortments, held a certain appeal.

… …

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