In a room filled with old books and flickering candles, the portraits on the walls murmured with excitement, their voices blending like an autumn breeze.
Dumbledore sat behind a large wooden desk, his deep blue eyes glinting through crescent-moon spectacles. He seemed lost in thought, his brows slightly furrowed as if unraveling a complex puzzle.
"Albus?" McGonagall, her face stern yet caring, looked at him with concern. "What's wrong? You're so quiet."
Dumbledore snapped out of his reverie, a faint smile appearing on his wrinkled face. "Nothing, Minerva," he replied, his voice soft yet commanding. "I was just thinking… tomorrow, we must deliver that acceptance letter in person. Larry Potter deserves to know he is part of our world."
McGonagall smiled, her eyes shining with enthusiasm. "You're right, Albus. We must go ourselves. This isn't just a letter—it's the start of their journey."
She glanced at the list on the desk, her finger tracing the black ink. "Larry Potter, living in Manchester, Stone District, 444 Lily Street."
"Manchester…" Dumbledore picked up a wooden wand from the desk, waving it with a graceful motion. On the wall, an old map of England glowed, and a small dot in Manchester emitted a golden light. "Then, to Manchester tomorrow."
---
The next morning, the early sunlight slipped through the window of a modest bedroom, waking Larry Potter, who was fast asleep. He yawned lazily, rubbing his bright green eyes, and gazed at the blue sky outside. The day felt special—bright, with soft white clouds floating like cotton in Manchester's usually gray sky.
Larry rose from bed, his feet touching the cold wooden floor. After a quick shower and slipping into slightly rumpled dark blue pajamas, he opened the bedroom door, intending to grab a glass of milk from the kitchen.
But before he could take another step, the sound of rapid footsteps approached, followed by an enthusiastic shout.
"Wake up, quick! Our acceptance letters are here!" Hermione raced up from the stairs, breathless. Her brown eyes sparkled, but when she saw Larry already standing at the threshold, she froze. "Oh, you're already up?"
"Yeah, just going for some milk," Larry replied, chuckling as he reached out to calm her. "Don't panic, Hermione. Let's go down together."
With a slightly mischievous smile, he took Hermione's hand and descended the creaky wooden stairs. Her hand felt warm in his, and he could feel a small flutter in his chest—not from the strange system that sometimes gave him mysterious "points," but from something more… human.
---
Upon reaching the living room, Larry heard a soft yet authoritative voice from the sofa.
"Mr. and Mrs. Granger, thank you for your hospitality. We are here today not only to deliver acceptance letters to two young individuals but also to meet Larry Potter."
The voice made Larry pause, his eyebrow lifting. 'The headmaster of Hogwarts himself?' he thought, his heart beating faster. 'I know that voice—or at least, I feel I've heard it in faint memories from my past life. What does this old bee have planned for me?'
But his face remained calm, showing only a hint of curiosity.
Larry led Hermione into the living room, his eyes immediately locking onto two figures on the sofa.
Dumbledore wore deep purple robes that shimmered softly in the sunlight, his blue eyes gleaming through crescent-moon spectacles, full of wisdom and a touch of kindness.
McGonagall sat beside him, her face stern but not cold, with an aura that commanded respect.
Seeing them, Larry felt a mix of nervousness and anticipation. 'Dumbledore and McGonagall,' he thought. 'Two legends of the wizarding world, sitting on the Grangers' sofa. This… is real.'
Dumbledore and McGonagall studied Larry and Hermione as they entered. Their eyes lingered on Larry, observing him from his red hair to his slightly worn house slippers. His hair, like his mother's, and his eyes, carrying a shadow of his father's, made them pause for a moment.
Mr. Granger, with brown hair beginning to gray, quickly spoke up. "You're both here! Come over. This is Professor Dumbledore, headmaster of Hogwarts, and Professor McGonagall, deputy headmistress. They've come to deliver your acceptance letters."
Larry led Hermione closer, then bowed slightly with politeness. "Good morning, Professor Dumbledore, Professor McGonagall," he said, his voice calm yet respectful.
Hermione followed, offering a slightly awkward but sincere nod. "Good morning," she said, her voice brimming with curiosity.
"Pardon me, Professor Dumbledore," Larry said, his tone laced with feigned confusion. "Hermione and I never applied to your school. Could there be a mistake?"
Dumbledore smiled, shaking his head gently. "No mistake, Larry," he replied, his voice warm yet firm. "Admission to Hogwarts requires no application. If a child over eleven years old possesses a certain gift, their name appears on our list."
He paused, his eyes locking onto Larry with a deep gaze, as if seeing beyond the face before him. "And both of you possess that gift."
"A special gift?" Hermione exclaimed, her eyes widening, while Larry faked a perfectly shocked expression. Inwardly, he smirked. 'Oh, I know what gift that is. And I've been waiting for this moment for a long time.'
Dumbledore drew a wooden wand from the folds of his robe, pointing it at the coffee table in front of them. With a small wave, two parchment scrolls appeared out of thin air, landing gently on the wood. The red wax seals on the parchments gleamed, displaying a crest with a lion, snake, eagle, and badger.
"Magic!" Hermione gasped, staring at the wand with sparkling eyes, her face full of awe. She stepped closer, almost unconsciously, as if drawn to the wonder before her.
Larry pretended to be amazed, but his mind was calm. 'I know what's coming—at least, most of it. Hogwarts,' he thought. 'And maybe… a chance to test my charm on a bigger stage.'
"Wouldn't you like to open them?" Dumbledore asked, his smile gentle yet inviting. "The letters are for you."
"Oh, of course!" Larry snapped out of it, picking up one of the parchments with a swift yet graceful motion. He unrolled it, his eyes scanning the neat green ink, the Hogwarts crest at the top making his heart race. 'This is real. I'm really here.'
Hermione took the other parchment, reading it with her characteristic focus, her brows furrowing as if memorizing a textbook.
"Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry," Hermione murmured, her voice full of wonder. "We're… really going to learn magic?"
"Looks like it," Larry replied, smiling as he glanced at her. He brushed a curl from her hair with a gentle motion, a habit that always made her smile. "See, the letters are in our hands. This isn't a dream, Hermione."
Hermione hugged his arm in delight, nearly bouncing. "Amazing! We can learn magic together!" she cried, her face glowing like the morning sun.
Watching her excitement, Larry felt the tension in his chest melt away. There was something about Hermione's smile that made his world feel lighter, even with the secrets he kept—like the strange system that gave him points whenever someone was charmed, or the fact that he wasn't just an ordinary boy.
Larry turned to Dumbledore, his expression a mix of deliberate confusion. "Professor Dumbledore, I heard you wanted to meet me specifically? And why do you call me Mr. Potter?"
Dumbledore's eyes twinkled, as if impressed by Larry's composure. "You're perceptive, Larry," he said, his voice heavy with meaning. "There are many things we must discuss—about your family name, your legacy, and your place in our world. But for now, enjoy this letter. It is the first step."