Jack Smith looked to be in his sixties. Back when he ran for office, nearly every woman over the age of forty-five in the district had cast their vote for him.
He stepped into the living room and saw Dumbledore—robes, long beard, and all—sitting there. Jack didn't even flinch. Instead, he asked politely,
"And which theater company are you with, sir?"
Dumbledore, entirely unfazed by the question, replied with practiced ease,
"Mr. Smith, good day. I am Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I've come to invite Charles Smith to join our school."
"You may not know this, but Charles is a wizard. Not the kind that does stage magic with hats and rabbits, but a real one—someone who can actually wield magic."
Jack took a seat next to Charles, his expression calm and unreadable.
"Charles is a clever boy. He's always been top of his class at Dragon Primary in Oxfordshire. I was thinking of sending him to Eton, Harrow, or perhaps Westminster—not the stage."
"There are many crossroads in life, and just because we old folk think one path is the right one doesn't mean it suits the young. If Charles wants to go into the performing arts, I'll support him."
Seeing that Jack still thought he was part of some traveling troupe, Dumbledore pulled out his wand with a smile.
"Would you care for a cup of tea?"
With a flick, a clean teacup and saucer flew out of the cabinet onto the table. The teapot followed, pouring tea by itself, and the saucer floated the filled cup gently to Jack.
Jack stared at it for a long time, even reached out to feel around it—no strings.
"Magic's real, then," he murmured, eyebrows raised.
At this, Charles piped up. "This gentleman also mentioned a Dark Lord earlier. Vold… something? Apparently, he killed Mrs. Dursley's sister—Harry's mum."
Jack's face immediately tightened with concern.
"Is that true? Are the Dursleys also… wizards? Will that African dark lord come after us for revenge? Should we call the police?"
Dumbledore, clearly experienced with these kinds of Muggle reactions, patiently explained.
"The Dursleys are not wizards—only Petunia's sister and nephew were. And the Dark Lord isn't African. He's very much British—purely so, in fact. 'Dark' in this case refers to his use of dark magic. He was defeated ten years ago. And the police won't be able to help, I'm afraid. We have our own kind of law enforcement—Aurors. They're like magical police."
He then went on to explain what Hogwarts was and, with another wave of his wand, turned the teacup Petunia had used earlier into a pigeon that promptly began flapping around the living room.
Jack took a sip of his tea and asked,
"This Dark Lord of yours… how many people did he kill?"
Dumbledore's tone was somber. "Over a hundred."
Jack frowned. "In one morning?"
Dumbledore quickly shook his head. "No, no—total."
"Huh. That's not so bad." Jack raised an eyebrow and asked one final question:
"What's the tuition fee?"
Dumbledore blinked. "Hogwarts is funded by the school board. There's no tuition fee. Families only need to buy uniforms, books, and some classroom tools."
Jack fell silent for a moment, then turned to Charles.
"What do you think?"
Charles hesitated. He wasn't particularly ambitious—he already had a plan: graduate from university here, move abroad to work as an English teacher, buy a house, buy another house, and maybe a third one—pure bliss.
But this was Hogwarts. Wouldn't it be a shame not to go and see it for himself?
Finally, he said,
"Alright. I'll go."
Dumbledore smiled broadly and extended his hand.
"Then, on behalf of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, I welcome you. I believe you'll have a wonderful time there."
Charles reached out and shook his hand—briefly. It looked like he didn't want to hold it any longer than absolutely necessary.
Dumbledore soon took his leave. He still had other Muggle-born students to visit—and didn't bother checking in with the Dursleys across the street.
Once the coast was clear, Charles flopped onto the sofa and grinned at Jack.
"If you ever get into acting, you'd totally win an Oscar."
Jack snapped his fingers and said,
"Go turn off the water and electricity. We're heading out in a bit."
Just then, several travel trunks floated down the stairs and neatly lined themselves up by the front door.
Charles blinked.
"Where are we going?"
Jack replied seriously,
"The beach house. The real Hogwarts is dangerous. You could die at any moment. When I went there, the carriage I was in got attacked by a dragon. You're lucky to survive a single trip to class without taking down at least eight people."
"We still have time. I'm going to teach you a few self-defense spells."
Charles' eyes lit up.
"Does that mean… you'll finally buy me a wand?"
Jack's answer, however, left Charles deeply disappointed:
"Just use my wand for now."
Charles tried to protest.
"But wouldn't it be inconvenient for you not to have your wand?"
Without a word, Jack stood up, waved his hand, and the teacups, watermelon, and even the knife on the table all vanished without a trace. He said calmly,
"A wand is not something so easily rendered inconvenient."
Charles was speechless.
Jack had lived for over a hundred years but had no experience raising kids. When he first found Charles, he couldn't tell whether the baby was hungry or just needed a change—so he actually used Legilimency on him. The result? He saw fragments of Charles' memories… and eventually started making inside jokes based on them.
Charles had been mad about that for quite a while, and only forgave him after Jack promised to teach him magic.
The two of them half-heartedly loaded the luggage into a Rolls-Royce, with Jack behind the wheel.
Halfway through the drive, Charles noticed something was off.
"Weren't we going to the beach house? Why are we heading into London?"
Jack replied with a question of his own:
"Did you forget what day it is?"
Charles blinked, clueless. Come to think of it, when they'd gone to France a while back, Jack had scheduled the trip specifically around this date.
"You did forget," Jack said flatly. "Today's your dentist appointment."
Cold sweat instantly broke out on Charles' forehead.
"But I brush my teeth every day! I don't need a dentist!"
Jack was unmoved.
"I heard from a few ladies that drinking too much soda can rot your teeth. You drink enough to worry a dentist out of a job. We'd better get them checked."
"Besides, your classmate was really looking forward to seeing you today. And aren't you happy to see her?"
Then, with a suspiciously casual tone, he added,
"By the way… do you have a crush on her?"
Charles looked utterly exasperated.
"Come on, don't say stuff like that—it'll make things awkward. We're just classmates, totally platonic. You know I like girls with, you know… curves."
Jack didn't miss a beat.
"And what if she's not curvy? That's what body-shaping charms are for."
Then, as if that entire tangent never happened, he added,
"Alright, I'll buy you a new computer. You can use it when you're back from school break. Didn't you always say being a wizard is overrated, and you'd rather live the good life?"
"Who would've thought the same Jack from West Lake would go on to do something so impressive…"
"Ah, we wizards are falling behind."
There was a quiet sadness in his voice.
It was the first time Charles had ever seen him like that. He asked,
"When did you start thinking wizards were falling behind?"
"July 21st, 1969," Jack answered softly. "The day Muggles first set foot on the moon. It's been twenty-two years now."
Charles tilted his head.
"But couldn't you just Apparate to the moon? Or use a Portkey?"
Jack didn't respond. All he said was,
"You'll understand once you learn."
Then he added,
"If you manage to master those spells I'm teaching you before Hogwarts starts, I'll show you some memories from my school days. Then we'll be even."
Charles pouted.
"I'd rather see your world-traveling memories."
Jack said,
"The world's big. If you want to see it—go see it yourself."
By the time their conversation ended, they had arrived at the dental clinic.
Good news: it was closed, with a sign on the door that read, "Out Temporarily."
*(End of Chapter)*