William and Anli finally broke free from the crowd.
"Darling, didn't I tell you not to use the main entrance of the Leaky Cauldron?"
Anli's lips curved into a slight smile, but her eyes held no trace of amusement as she stared at William.
"Oh, come on, who could've guessed Tom would be that loud? Besides, Edward helped us out, didn't he?"
William gave an awkward chuckle, avoiding his wife's gaze as he hurriedly pushed open the narrow door leading to the pub's back courtyard.
At the mention of her son's name, Anli's expression softened instantly.
"Well, that's my boy for you—not only did he inherit my brains, magical talent, and good looks," she said, ruffling Edward's light brown curly hair with a voice full of affection.
"I bet once you get to Hogwarts, you'll be the most outstanding Slytherin student in history."
"Now hold on, I can't let that slide," William interjected. "Edward's my son, a descendant of Sir Bedivere, the epitome of chivalry. He's obviously headed for Gryffindor!"
"Chivalry? Does Slytherin even know what that is?"
William spun around, wand already in hand.
Edward could almost see it: in the cramped courtyard of the Leaky Cauldron, a lion and a python locked eyes, sizing each other up.
He sighed, rubbing his forehead. I should've just taken the Knight Bus—or even the Tube, he thought. Anything to avoid playing mediator in his parents' bickering or, worse, being their third wheel.
"Alright, Dad, Mum, I don't even know the first thing about magic yet, so let's not talk about 'outstanding' anything. But no matter which house I end up in at Hogwarts, I won't let you down!"
"Of course you won't," William and Anli said in unison.
"But more than being outstanding, we want you to grow into a better person at school, make friends worth having, and steer clear of those obsessed with blood purity," Anli added.
At the mention of blood purity, William let out a cold snort.
"For once, I agree with your father. No matter what house you're sorted into, remember that," Anli said, patting Edward's shoulder.
"Back in my school days, I dealt with plenty of classmates who were always dabbling in dark magic. If I'd known they'd turn into dark wizards, I would've hit them harder," she said with a smirk.
"Of course, Mum," Edward replied earnestly.
If there was one thing about his parents that made Edward proud—beyond their fame in the wizarding world—it was their belief in equality, regardless of blood status. His father, William, a descendant of Bedivere, had always taught him the values of kindness, bravery, and inclusivity, rooted in knightly honor. His mother, Anli, a pure-blood Slytherin and descendant of Morgan, was even more remarkable. Rising above the prejudices of her lineage, she firmly believed in the equality of Muggle-born and wizard-born alike—a rare stance that Edward deeply admired.
Of course, being outspoken about such views hadn't come without a cost. His parents' public stance had ruffled feathers, especially among the pure-blood supremacists.
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Take some of the Sacred Twenty-Eight families, for instance—Malfoy, Lestrange, Greengrass, and the like. To them, the Bedivere family were traitors to pure-blood ideals, only fit to sit with the Weasleys.
But Edward was grateful to be born into a family like his. If he'd been stuck with one of those families, he might've been miserable by age six.
William drew his wand and tapped the wall above the rubbish bin—three bricks up, two to the right. The bricks came to life, shifting and rearranging like a receding tide, revealing a bustling alley stretching out before them.
"We've got a lot to buy," William said, glancing at Edward's Hogwarts acceptance letter and its long list of supplies. "Should we split up?"
"I'll need some time to head over there," Anli said, nodding toward a side street with a sign that read "Knockturn Alley."
"In that case, Edward, why don't you go get your robes and wand? Those are things you need to pick out yourself. We'll handle the rest," William decided quickly.
Soon, Edward found himself standing alone in front of Ollivanders' wand shop.
Having grown up in a wizarding family, this wasn't his first trip to Diagon Alley—he'd found the shop easily enough. But it was his first time stepping inside the narrow, old-fashioned store. The decor was quaint, almost ancient, with shelves stacked floor-to-ceiling with countless small boxes.
Behind the counter, a frail, white-haired man with a wrinkled face—presumably Mr. Ollivander—was handing a wand to a young customer.
"I believe this wand will suit you, Mr. Malfoy. Ten inches, hawthorn, unicorn hair."
The boy had sleek platinum-blond hair, a pointed chin, and a slight frame. Draco Malfoy waved the wand, and a rainbow burst from its tip, bathing the room in vibrant colors.
Ollivander clapped his hands. "Excellent!"
"That's the one," Draco said with a satisfied nod.
As he reached to place seven Galleons on the counter, he caught sight of Edward in a mirror, just entering the shop.
"Well, well, Malfoy. We meet again," Edward said first.
"Edward Bedivere," Draco sneered. "What, you need a wand too? I thought you'd be like your father, waving around a knight's sword at Hogwarts."
The air in the wand shop grew tense.
Edward had met the Malfoys once at a gathering, with William and Anli by his side. They'd crossed paths with Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy, but it hadn't been a pleasant encounter. Their differences in values were irreconcilable.
"What's that? Unlike your father, who waved his wand and nearly landed himself in Azkaban with the Dementors?" Edward shot back.
He was all for knightly humility, but some people didn't deserve it—especially not when they came at you with insults.
Draco's already pale face drained of what little color it had. Nothing stung him more than jabs at his father's past as a Death Eater.
"I've always thought Hogwarts should only admit students from old wizarding families and kick out the Muggle-born riffraff," Draco said, trying to steer the conversation. "But now, I think we should add another rule: wizards who betray their blood should be expelled too. Azkaban's where they belong."
"Oh, please, Malfoy. I'm not here to argue with you, but I guarantee you'll see your family in Azkaban long before mine," Edward said, already tired of the exchange. "I just want to buy a wand. Now, if you'd kindly step aside."
But Draco didn't budge.
"I'd love to see how you plan to get to the counter if I don't move," he said, smirking. "I've got a wand now, and you've got nothing."
"Say something nice, maybe beg a little, and I might let you through."
He raised his wand, pointing it right at Edward's nose.