After another hour's drive, Maverick and Isabella returned from their visit to Diagon Alley.

They saw the car their mothers had taken, but just as Maverick had guessed, their fathers were still out doing their own thing.

When they entered, they found both mothers busy in the kitchen, likely preparing dinner for the evening. Thankfully, they didn't ask many questions and simply told them to relax and wait. It was a clear sign of their trust in their children.

It wasn't until eight in the evening that Edward and Michael returned home. The two families sat down to enjoy dinner together, sharing stories about their day. As it turned out, Michael and Edward had won a significant amount of money betting on the Manchester football game.

Since Edward's family was leaving the next evening, they made plans for the following day at the dinner table, making sure everyone had a say and that the activities would be enjoyable for all. By ten o'clock, everyone had headed to bed for the night.

The next day began with all six gathered around the breakfast table. Midway through the meal, a wizard arrived with a package addressed to Maverick. True to his word, Minister of Magic Fudge had fulfilled his promise, completing Maverick's paperwork without Maverick having to set foot in the Ministry.

The British wizarding identity card resembled a Muggle ID, a system the wizarding world had adopted from Muggles since World War II to more effectively track their populations.

Edward used several spells and methods to scan the card for any hidden tracking or spying charms, and only after that did he hand it over to Maverick.

The card was strongly enchanted to protect it from accidental damage, whether from natural or magical elements. It could withstand pressure, fire, or cold, as long as they weren't extreme.

More importantly, the enchantments were there to prevent replication and identity fraud, as the card contained personal details like name, age, country, and more.

The card also included his ultra-fast broomstick license. During lunch with the Queen, Edward spoke highly of Maverick's skills. He didn't share every detail but gave just enough for Fudge to understand that Maverick was very talented and reassured him that Maverick would have no issues controlling such a powerful broomstick.

Trusting Edward's word, along with the fact that Edward had the authority to grant the permit for the license, Fudge agreed without hesitation to add the detail to Maverick's card.

With the card, Maverick now had access to numerous conveniences of the wizarding world, including the national and international public Floo networks, business registration, buying or selling properties in magical areas, obtaining licenses for various practices, and more.

....

After breakfast, they began the first activity planned for the day: giving Michael and Ariel some hands-on experience with magic.

And what better way to start than taking to the skies? Using Muggle-repellent spells, Edward, Maverick, and Isabella took Michael, Ariel, and Silvia flying on their broomsticks all around London.

Needless to say, the three non-magicals had the time of their lives, especially Maverick's mother, who was completely new to magic.

Their fun lasted until late afternoon, after which they returned to rest for a bit before heading out again—this time for some shopping, followed by a family dinner at a five-star restaurant.

The two families' dinner was only slightly awkward for Maverick and Isabella when their parents brought up their relationship. It wasn't a long discussion, just some general advice—reminders that they were still young and should focus on their education and careers more.

The adults all agreed that Maverick and Isabella would get engaged in two years when they were freer from other commitments. Although embarrassed, both Maverick and Isabella happily agreed.

They returned home around ten in the evening, as Edward's family planned to Floo back at midnight. After arriving, Maverick and Isabella took some time for themselves, heading straight to the skies together.

During their private moment, Maverick handed Isabella the gifts he had secretly purchased the day before, asking her to open them only after she returned to the States. With promises to stay in touch and a few heartfelt hugs and kisses, they reluctantly made their way back.

Before taking the Floo, Edward pulled Maverick aside for a private moment, reminding him to always remain vigilant during his travels and stressing that the world is often more dangerous than it appears.

He also urged Maverick to never hesitate in using the reverse Portkey to summon him if he ever faced a life-threatening emergency beyond his ability to handle.

With a burst of green flames, Edward, Silvia, and Isabella disappeared into the Floo, returning to America. For a moment, Maverick and his family stood in silence, feeling a sense of loss. The past two days had been filled with joy, and the bond of friendship between their families had grown even stronger over the years.

"Well... don't look so down. We can always visit them again in the future," Michael said, pulling his wife and son closer with an arm around each of them. He turned to Maverick with a small grin. "And you, kid, get some sleep. We've got to visit the queen again tomorrow."

He carefully avoided mentioning the Zero Squad, knowing the name alone hinted at combat-related work. The last thing he wanted was to make his wife worry.

Maverick nodded, reminded that he still had his orientation with the Zero Squad before beginning his journey. Surprisingly, he was looking forward to it. Beyond learning the group's rules and obligations and meeting the other members, the training aspect especially intrigued him.

The queen had assured him it would be brief—just two weeks to familiarize himself with the team, undergo some basic training, and then he'd be free to start his travels.

What excited him most was the chance to train in Muggle combat methods, especially learning to handle firearms. The idea of blending magical and non-magical skills intrigued him. Yes, Maverick was looking forward to it.

....

Earlier the same day, inside Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Headmaster Albus Dumbledore sat behind his large oak desk, quietly going through some papers. The firelight in the room cast a soft glow, creating a calm atmosphere as he read with calm concentration.

His robe, a rich midnight blue adorned with intricate silver embroidery, flowed gracefully around him, exuding both elegance and authority. Beneath the robe, he wore a gray sleeveless vest over a clean white shirt, adding a simple touch of style.

His dark hair, neatly combed and streaked with silver, remained full and well-kept, while his beard, more black than expected from someone over a century old, added a dignified weight to his appearance.

The first thing anyone would notice was his left arm, completely wrapped in white gauze. From the wrist up, it was hidden beneath the sleeve of his robe, but still noticeable. A careful observer might spot the slight twitching of his fingers, a sign of discomfort—perhaps even pain. However, it did nothing to affect the famed wizard's expression, which remained steady, nor did it diminish his domineering presence.

Every movement, every glance, was deliberate, reflecting the power and wisdom he held as Headmaster. He exuded a commanding yet serene aura, striking a perfect balance of authority and warmth, which had come to define him as the leader of the wizarding world.

Nearby, perched on its stand, Fawkes, his loyal phoenix, observed silently. Its glowing plumage cast a soft light across the room, a gentle reminder of the magic that filled Hogwarts.

He paused, lifting his head, and a smile spread across his face. Moments later, the door to the Headmaster's office opened, and in walked his trusted companion—once a student, now his assistant, or perhaps even his second-in-command.

"I trust everything went well, Minerva," he said, leaning back in his chair. "Tea?" he added, while gesturing for her to sit.

"No, thank you," McGonagall said as she took a seat. "The introduction for all Muggle-born first years has concluded." She paused, her tone softening. "You must commend Hagrid, Albus... he managed the orientation far quicker than any of us."

Dumbledore chuckled warmly. "I shall... Perhaps I'll consider upgrading his little cottage. Hagrid would never accept extra pay for it—he's far too modest."

McGonagall hummed softly, her thoughts then drifting to the day before. She had met two remarkable people—Maverick and Isabella—and thought warmly of their conversations. For a moment, she considered mentioning it but hesitated.

Dumbledore, as sharp as ever, noticed the change right away. "Go on, Minerva," he said kindly. "Is there something on your mind?"

She glanced at him, weighing her decision, before giving a slight nod. Maverick had expressed interest in joining Hogwarts, so she decided there was no harm in telling the headmaster.

"I met a rather intriguing young couple yesterday—an American witch and a local wizard," she began, pausing briefly.

Dumbledore made no move to interrupt, instead gesturing for her to continue.

"The young witch is of age to start her sixth year, while the wizard... well, he recently completed his NEWTs. Both of them are exceptionally talented," she continued, sharing more about their exam results and some of the conversations they'd had.

Dumbledore listened with interest, making no interruptions until McGonagall paused briefly.

"For you to speak so highly of them, Minerva, they must be quite extraordinary," Dumbledore remarked.

McGonagall nodded firmly. "They are. Particularly the boy... his mastery of magical energy manipulation is so advanced that, at first, I mistook him for a Muggle."

Dumbledore's usual calm demeanor shifted slightly, surprise flickering across his face. "Muggle? What led you to think that?"

"At first, I thought he was. I couldn't sense even the faintest trace of magic from him. It was only when I asked him that he pulsed his energy," she explained, her excitement growing. She glanced at Dumbledore. "Albus... it was extraordinary. He controlled it with such ease, as naturally as breathing. The precision, the sheer effortlessness—I've never seen anything like it." Her voice grew more animated. "Even I doubt I could suppress my magic to that degree, let alone with such finesse as to fool me entirely."

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McGonagall stopped, realizing she had gotten carried away, and glanced at Dumbledore to gauge his reaction.

The headmaster appeared deep in thought. After a moment, he asked, "Are you sure he isn't a Great Magus?"

"Absolutely certain. I fully sensed his magic when he released it briefly, even though the boy carefully controlled it for a moment. And I've never heard of a Great Magus, alive or dead, at such a young age."

After a brief silence, Dumbledore spoke thoughtfully, "But it's quite unheard of—a magus with such precise magical energy manipulation." He paused, then added, "What about the girl? Was she as remarkable as him?"

"She's only sixteen," McGonagall replied, "but I could sense it. She's on the verge of advancing to magus level."

"A genius, then. Only a handful of people I know have achieved such a feat at her age," Dumbledore said with a wistful sigh. "How marvelous... two exceptional young magicals from different nations finding affection for one another." His gaze grew distant as he reminisced about a certain individual.

"Albus," McGonagall interjected, bringing him back to the present, "that's not all."

"Really?" he asked, his curiosity growing. "Please, Minerva, do tell."

"The boy mentioned that he would like to become a teacher here at Hogwarts," she revealed.

Dumbledore raised a brow.

"Not immediately," McGonagall clarified. "He plans to travel the world first—to learn, gather experience—and then, in a few years, apply for a teaching position."

Dumbledore stroked his chin. "A teaching position in what field?"

"Muggle science," McGonagall said, her tone tinged with amusement.

Dumbledore tilted his head. "Don't we already have a Muggle Studies professor?"

McGonagall gave him a pointed look. "You and I both know the current curriculum is hopelessly outdated." She paused. "And that's Muggle Studies. Not Muggle science."

"A new course? That would be difficult..." Dumbledore said after a moment of thought.

"He mentioned he's working on a book. To introduce, and I quote, 'the magic of science.'"

Dumbledore chuckled softly. "And what exactly is this magic?"

"From what he explained, his book will introduce real science—its wonders and its connections to magic. He promised to send me a copy once it's finished."

"Well, I'd very much like to read it myself," Dumbledore said with genuine interest. "Science has always fascinated me, especially in the past few decades." He paused, briefly recalling some unpleasant memories, but quickly shook them off and continued.

"A talented genius with a rational approach to this subject... I welcome it. I'll even propose to the school board and the Ministry to adjust the curriculum." He paused, smiling at McGonagall, who now looked a little surprised. "Do share the book with me, Minerva. If he's serious about teaching here, I'll need to assess his qualifications myself."

McGonagall's surprise came from realizing that Dumbledore had likely guessed the true purpose behind Maverick's book. Since Dumbledore had already partially figured it out, she decided not to mention Maverick's comments about challenging the outdated pure-blood ideologies.

"Do you know their origins? Whether they're related to any ancient families?" Dumbledore asked after a moment of silence.

McGonagall shot him a sharp look. "No, Albus. I do not..."

Their eyes met, holding each other's gaze for a brief moment.

Dumbledore sighed, his voice heavy with resignation. "Minerva..."

But McGonagall cut him off, knowing him all too well. "It's best the boy takes the initiative himself. There's no need for either of us to intervene," she said plainly, her tone making her stance clear.

For all the good in him, the man had one big flaw: he was too nosy. It was the root of most of his troubles.

Dumbledore sighed after a moment, a faint smile spreading across his lips. "I understand, Minerva. Old habits."

She kept her eyes on him, watching the Arch-Magus like she was judging one of her students. She wanted to make sure the headmaster understood her meaning clearly.

Seeing he wasn't pressing further, McGonagall gave a final nod and changed the subject. "How was your trip to Nepal?"

Dumbledore leaned back in his chair, pausing to think for a moment. "Not very successful..." he replied, his tone low and mixed with regret and reluctance.

McGonagall's expression fell, her concern evident as her gaze shifted from Dumbledore to his covered left arm. "Not even the Supreme Sorcerer could cure Riddle's curse..."

Dumbledore sighed. "Well, she did offer a solution... it just wasn't to my liking."

"Your liking?" McGonagall straightened, frustration rising in her voice. "Albus, you're dying. Merlin knows how much time you have left... and you're still holding onto your principles."

Dumbledore sat quietly, not minding McGonagall's raised voice. He knew she was only worried about him.

His thoughts drifted to the serious problem he now faced and how he had come to this point.

It all began with a prophecy, but after the events that followed, Dumbledore wasn't fond of the outcome it foretold.

The most recent Dark Lord, Voldemort, had somehow made himself partially immortal by splitting his soul. Dumbledore first realized this nine years ago when he saw the infant responsible for the Dark Lord's downfall.

The infant, saved by his guardian's sacrifice and powerful ancient magic, was meant to live a very short life.

That night, when Voldemort fell, powerful magic from both sides was involved. Needless to say, Voldemort's magic was pure evil.

As a result, the infant was left with a terrible consequence.

Since then, Dumbledore had focused all his efforts on studying the evil magic leeching the infant, hoping to find a cure. He had wished for the best, but his relentless curiosity and need to understand led him to his current predicament.

His research led him to a situation similar to that of the infant, tracing back to Voldemort's origins—the Dark Lord's family ring. But it wasn't just any heirloom. No, it held a deeper significance, one that drew Dumbledore in. Throughout his life, he had lost so much, and the ring's allure was irresistible. Despite his wisdom, he made a naïve mistake and fell right into a trap.

The ring was cursed. The moment he saw it, his desire took over, and he was struck by a curse that the Dark Lord had placed on it.

Now, the Arch-Magus, whose lifespan should have lasted for centuries, was quickly dying, his life force being drained by the curse, with no cure yet to be found.

McGonagall watched her longtime friend lost in thought, a regretful expression on his face. More than anything, she wished for Dumbledore to be cured. He was the one who had mentored her and contributed the most to the life she lived now.

After a few minutes, Dumbledore shook off his thoughts and regained his composure. "Apologies, Minerva... I just remembered some old memories..."

McGonagall didn't ask what they were but returned to her previous question. "Can you at least tell me why you rejected the Sorcerer Supreme's solution?"

Dumbledore thought for a moment before deciding to share. "Sacrifices. One that could equal an Arch-Magus or many others combined... and..." He paused, hesitated, then spoke. "The solution came from the darkest of scriptures. Have you heard of the Darkhold?"

McGonagall frowned, thinking hard, but nothing came to mind.

"A very evil and ancient book of powerful spells," Dumbledore continued. "It's believed to be from a powerful demon, Chthon. And you must know how much demonology was considered taboo for us witches and wizards, even by Merlin himself."

McGonagall sighed. "I see..." She raised her head and glanced at Dumbledore before asking again, "Is there really no other way?"

Dumbledore met her gaze. "There is another. One that I think could cure it..."

McGonagall's eyes lit up. "Really, Albus?"

Dumbledore raised his hand, gesturing for her to calm down. "It's possible, but I'm not very sure. And it's not easy." He paused. "I'd have to surpass my current rank and reach Warlock."

McGonagall's eyes widened. "But that's..."

"Not impossible, but difficult. I may have... " He paused, thinking. "Seven, maybe six years... Within that time, I'd have to break through."

"How far are you? I mean, what's your current progress?" McGonagall asked.

Dumbledore raised his hand, bringing his index finger and thumb so close that they almost touched. "This close. The peak of Arch-Magus. In the East, they call this a bottleneck—a short but nearly impossible hurdle. Unless I can find a way to break through it, or find someone who has reached the Warlock rank for guidance..."

McGonagall opened her mouth to speak but couldn't find the words. A Warlock was simply a legend in this day and age. The last recorded ones from Europe were the four founders of the very school she now managed.

She sighed after a moment. "If only the founders had left some knowledge of their experiences..."

Dumbledore gave a warm smile. "Well, who knows? Nobody knows what happened to them. They just... simply disappeared into history."

McGonagall gave Dumbledore a questioning look. "What are you suggesting, Albus?"

Dumbledore chuckled, sitting up straighter. He decided to end the discussion. "Let's not talk about my miserable situation. Tell me, have we received any applications for the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor for the coming year?"

McGonagall gave him a glare. She wanted to ask more but decided to respect her mentor's wishes and let it go.

"Yes... a French wizard..."

The two, headmaster and vice-headmaster, then moved on to discuss school matters.

Meanwhile, somewhere in London, Maverick, our protagonist, had no idea that he had come under the radar of the most famous and powerful wizard alive. And even if he had known, he wouldn't have paid much attention to it.

His conversations with McGonagall were carefully worded, knowing full well that they would reach Dumbledore sooner or later. A coincidence, perhaps, but one he had taken full advantage of, for his future goal of joining Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

—————————

Author's Note:

Just a quick update — up to Chapter 71 is already available on P AT r30n!

PAT r30n [.] com / RyanFic