The private meeting room just off the Great Hall was cold, silent, and thick with tension. Candles flickered lazily in floating sconces. I stood at the center, hands clasped behind my back, my wand holstered, my shoulders squared.
To my left, Professor McGonagall, her lips drawn in a thin line, held a small clipboard with several hastily scrawled reports. To my right, Professor Snape, cloaked in his usual shadowed indifference, held a longer list—each item spoken colder than the last:
Snape started. "Unauthorized use of magic in the common room." "Use of force on fellow students, including upper years." Then McGonagall. "According to at least three first-year girls, flooding their dormitory."
Then, in perfect unison, they both said: "You threatened to start burning things."
I blinked. "You two rehearsed that, didn't you?" Snape scowled. McGonagall's eyes twitched in reluctant amusement. "How did you even know?" I asked, feigning innocence. McGonagall spoke first. " You think the prefects along with the head Boy and Girl wouldn't report this to us?."
Snape paused before speaking, " Normally I would just expel you for such a display of violence and a lack of respect for the rules. But since I know your mother and how you were most likely raised I will give you a chance to explain yourself."
I stepped forward. "I did it," I said calmly, "to save the Wizarding World of Britain." That got their attention. Snape raised an eyebrow. McGonagall folded her arms.
"Explain," Snape snapped. So I did.
"This house has become a parody of itself. A place for arrogance, prejudice, and laziness, where the children of old names hide behind bloodlines instead of building legacies. This school as good as it is is stuck in old times and we will continue to keep falling behind.
So in order to change the wizarding world I want to start at school. By starting with the worse house with the greatest potential to create future witches and wizards who will lead by example and not hide behind their family names. I intend to fix that—even if I have to drag them into discipline kicking and screaming."
McGonagall tilted her head. " Did your mother told you to do this?" "No, Professor. This was my choice." "Why do you think your so right when your only 11?" She said. "I said I know I'm young but I'm not ignorant you as well as I do how rotten the wizarding world of the UK is. I can't change anything without force or respect.
I know I'm sound like a future dark lord in the making, but I promise I want our people to thrive so that witches and wizards like my godmother Lily won't be persecuted for being muggle born or killed by those who think they are superior just because of their blood. McGonagall and Snape would look down for a moment contemplating on what I said.
Snape stood up and circle me circled me slowly. " What is your plan, Mr. Dawn?"
> "Turn Slytherin from a stagnated house with a reputation of future dark wizards. Into the most disciplined, the most unified, the most brilliant house and win the house cup for example. Every other house would watch us as we grow and improve in grades , magically skill, knowledge and more. They will either meet are greatness or be left behind."
McGonagall pursed her lips thoughtfully. Snape looked unconvinced. "You used violence. Why?" I breathe then looked straight. "I used violence to get their attention when you are young as I am the only thing people respect is your name and the power you have to enforce with it. So I let my power speak for me.
I told them no more mud blood talk or bullying other houses and students all together. and that we will let our our grades, skills and knowledge speak for us. I know it was not what this school or my professors would prefer I can proof that my methods as mad as they are can provide some fruitful growth for everyone. I reached into my robe, drawing out a handful of miniaturized tomes. With a flick, they floated into the air and enlarged: Military Doctrine and Uniformity in Education, On Gentle vs. Firm Parenting Approaches, Psychological Development of Magical Children: Discipline & Identity Formation.
I held up the last one. "Read these," I said. "You'll understand why I chose a path between harsh discipline and compassionate guidance." Then, with a flick of my fingers, I summoned a gold-and-white flame, hovering just above my palm. It pulsed, soft and warm.
"And this fame is a specialty of my family. It heals any bruises, breaks and can help with mental fatigue and other mental problems. No one will die under my watch I can promise on my family name. But they will learn." I said coldly
Snape's lip twitched. " Parents will not take kindly to their children being force to divert from their family views along with hearing that their children are being hurt." "Let them come," I replied. "What can they do? Besides try to get me expelled ? I like those odds."
McGonagall choked softly. "Mr. Dawn," she said with a sigh, "that is not something a student should ever brag about." Snape stepped forward. "One month." I looked up. "One month to prove Slytherin House is improving. One hundred House Points. If you fail, I'll personally sign the expulsion order."
He extended his hand I took it firmly his eyes widened slightly at my grip. "Good grip," he muttered.
McGonagall's mouth opened. "Severus, you can't" "They'll demand it anyway," he said curtly. "Better now than later."
She turned to me, softer now. "Callum… be careful. It's your future you're gambling." "No, Professor," I said calmly. "It's Slytherin's and I believe I can win."
She stared for a moment, then nodded. "You have thirty minutes left of breakfast. Go. Gather your mail and expect to head to the headmaster office later as well as detention." As I exited the room, my robe swished behind me, and AIA pinged quietly in the back of my mind:
[NEW QUEST – A Leaders Conviction]- Attain(100+) House Points by end of month
Penalty: Expulsion from Hogwarts.
Reward: New Spell from enchanted Journal
I didn't even flinch I just smiled .The great hall was humming with the energy of students still excited from the announcement of my Order of Merlin. Whispers stirred around every house table, eyes followed me like I carried some sort of sign on my back but I ignored them.
"AIA," I murmured under my breath, "silence all system notifications unless it's life or death."
" Acknowledged. Notifications muted unless critical."
I walked briskly toward the Slytherin table, where I spotted Harry, arms folded and standing guard next to a small mountain of parchment, letters, and several brown-wrapped packages.
"Was watching them for you," he said.
"Thanks," I nodded, sitting down beside him. Hermione and Ron were nearby. Hermione looked equal parts curious and nosy, and Ron looked vaguely overwhelmed.
"What's all this?" Ron asked, his freckled face twisting.
"I need to read them first to find out," I replied calmly, flicking my wand to summon a letter opener with a flourish that earned a raised eyebrow from Hermione.
The first envelope bore the crest of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. I opened it. The parchment inside was written in the neat, efficient hand of Madam Amelia Bones.
> Callum,
The Ministry has attempted to contact your home multiple times but, as expected, the wards are too strong for conventional means. It is likely they will try to confront you directly at school instead be prepared to be blindsided. Please accept the enclosed gifts as a small thank-you for your efforts in the Sirius Black case and your thesis work. I'm especially impressed by your proposal regarding judicial reform. Also, please start using owls instead of mirror delivery. My heart nearly exploded.
Amelia Bones
Enclosed with the letter were two items: a thin silver necklace with a small polished charm that subtly pulsed with magical rhythm, and a neatly folded cloak that shimmered oddly in the light.
> Cloak of Invisibility (Medium Grade) Effectiveness: Hidden from average spellcasters; visible to skilled witches/wizards. Durability: Moderate. Use sparingly.
I smirked. "I owe her a real thank-you."
Next, a letter sealed in thick, emerald-green wax. Neville's grandmother. I cracked it open and read it silently. > Young Master Callum, I thank you for the miracle you've given this family. Alice and Frank are improving steadily—able to speak in full sentences and walk with aid. The mind healer says it's unprecedented. I've sent you several Longbottom family books on Herbology and Healing Magic, along with some rare herbs from our personal greenhouses. Make good use of them with respect, Augusta Longbottom.
The wrapped package beneath the letter opened with a flick—three leather-bound spellbooks, several vials of dried herbs, and a glowing green gem tucked inside a velvet pouch. "Add to research pile," I murmured, and with a snap of my fingers, all the items vanished—technically whisked into my system inventory.
Hermione blinked. "How did you do that?"
" I might tell you one day." Then came the letter from Nicholas Flamel. I took a breath and opened it carefully. The parchment was old, older than anything else I'd held—nearly brittle.
Dear Master Callum, Your curiosity is commendable, though I advise caution. The secrets of alchemy are not paths one walks lightly, nor ones easily undone. You are wise to seek your own route, but I will not guide you further unless I know you understand the true price. Keep searching. Keep learning there are still alchemies untapped by modern minds.
—N.F.
"Coded," I muttered. I reached for my wand again and wrote a quick response: "I believe you already know the answer to the Philosopher's Stone's source. I seek an alternative—through emotion, through raw mana, or something new entirely. If your conscience allows it, let us find the path where no life is needed to buy eternity.
I folded the parchment into a letter and gave the owl a snack and gave it the letter back. It took flight with practiced grace.
No reply yet from Grindelwald. I wasn't surprised.
> "What do you think he's doing now?" I wondered aloud. Harry and Hermione had no idea what I was talking about. Ron was chewing loudly on toast. With a snap, the rest of my letters, unopened, disappeared into the system. I wasn't going to let the breakfast table become a press conference.
Just then, Ron sat up, eyes wide. "Mate, it's nine-fifty!"
We scrambled to grab our bags. Harry tossed me a rolled parchment—our schedules. "Looks like Charms first," he said. I grinned. "Let's go make our first impression count."
The first day of classes at Hogwarts was brisk, full of nervous energy, and whispered expectations. Robes were crisp, quills fresh, and every corridor hummed with wide-eyed wonder or tense excitement.
Me, Harry, Ron, and Hermione had our schedules in hand, and our first stop: Charms with Professor Flitwick.
We filed into the classroom, a wide airy space with floating candles and enchanted chalk that danced on its own across the blackboard. Professor Flitwick, short and bright-eyed, stood on a stack of books at the front.
"Welcome, first-years!" he squeaked joyfully. "Charms are the backbone of practical magic. With dedication, you may one day cast spells with nothing but intent!"
He moved quickly into our first lesson—the Levitation Charm.
> "Wingardium Leviosa!" he called, swishing and flicking a wand in demonstration. "Remember the motion and pronunciation!"
Pairs formed. Harry and I sat together, the familiar feather resting on the table before us. "I've practiced this one before we got our wands so it was like breathing," I whispered, twirling my wand through the air.
Harry nodded, doing the motion calmly and carefully. "Wingardium Leviosa," he said softly. The feather floated upward—perfectly controlled.
I followed, applying a whisper of mana to support the motion. My feather rose gently, spinning once before hovering steady in the air. Professor Flitwick clapped enthusiastically, his eyes twinkling. "Excellent, Mr. Potter! And Mr. Dawn marvelous control!"
He awarded us five points each—Slytherin and Gryffindor. I spent the rest of class helping a few students who struggled with their wand movement or pronunciation, especially those with thicker accents or anxious hands. Even students from other houses Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff began to look at me with respect.
Flitwick noticed and gave me another five points. I bowed politely. Potions was another story entirely. We descended into the cool dungeons where the air smelled of crushed roots and sour herbs. Professor Snape stood at the front, robes billowing like smoke, eyes sharp as obsidian.
"There will be no foolish wand-waving or silly incantations here," he began, tone dark and deliberate. "I can teach you to bottle fame, brew glory, and even put a stopper in death…" I braced myself. This was the moment. Snape's eyes snapped to Harry. "Potter. What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"
Harry sat straight. "The Draught of Living Death, sir." A flicker of surprise crossed Snape's face. "Correct. What is a bezoar?"
Harry answered again. "A stone taken from the stomach of a goat. It can save you from most poisons."
"And what is the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane?" "They're the same plant, also known as aconite, sir" Harry finished, evenly.
Snape's lip curled slightly. He turned to me. "Mr. Dawn. What is the function of quintessence in elixirs of the fourth circle?" A second-year concept. I didn't flinch. "It stabilizes ambient magic flow, ensuring consistency in effect and preventing decay."
Snape's eyes narrowed. "What ingredient serves as a natural amplifier in healing salves brewed during lunar alignment?" "Silvershade bark, especially when mixed with powdered moonstone and diluted phoenix tears."
I kept my voice respectful but unwavering. "Very well," Snape said coldly. "Ten points to Slytherin for preparation." Then came Hermione's voice. "But Professor that's not first-year material."
Snape turned with venom in his tone. "Miss Granger. If you wish to demonstrate your intellect by repeating textbook definitions at every opportunity, I suggest you join Ravenclaw. Five points from Gryffindor for your interruption."
Hermione shrank slightly, biting her lip. I gave her a glance of support, and she caught it, composing herself. Harry earned five points for his answers, but Snape made no praise of him. I knew this was just the beginning of his favoritism, but also of the subtle opportunities we could take advantage of.
The rest of the day blurred between Herbology, Astronomy, and History of Magic. Me and Harry, already ahead from our studies at home, kept up easily. Ron, while slower, showed effort and potential. He wasn't as lazy as some might expect—he just needed better teaching methods.
Hermione, though behind me and Harry, was rapidly closing the gap. Her drive was unmatched. By the end of the day, I had earned 20 house points in total: 10 from Charms, 10 from Potions. We sat in the library by evening, me, Harry, Hermione, and Ron tucked into a corner.
Books opened. Notes exchanged. Quills scratched parchment. I showed Ron a trick to remember the lunar cycle for our Astronomy chart. Hermione corrected Harry's wand stroke from Charms with a muttered "flick, not jab." I pulled out a lesser-known herbology text and compared it to our class book, refining the properties of honking daffodils.
"Good first day," Harry said quietly, eyes scanning a book on goblin rebellions. "The best is yet to come," I replied, closing my journal with a smirk.