Chapter 10
Professor Minerva McGonagall adjusted the lapels of her robes, finding the perpetually overcast sky of the Maplehatcht Court neighbourhood perfectly suited to her mood. She moved down the familiar pavement with an almost professional stiffness, yet every step was accompanied by a leaden weight in her chest. The déjà vu was immediate and unpleasant; the entire street seemed to exhale a quiet tragedy, once again she walked down the pavement, ignoring the gnawing realization of the student she failed.
She navigated the building's bland corridors, noting the same dull familiarity she remembered from her previous visit.
Reaching the fourth floor, she had intended to proceed directly to the Smiths' apartment but found herself stalling, her gaze drawn to the door directly opposite John's, the one whose dark frame seemed to draw her in.
"Are you going to keep staring?"
The voice was low, flat, and utterly devoid of anything resembling surprise or warmth. McGonagall spun around, her expression instantly snapping from private sorrow to deputy headmistress sternness.
John Smith, dressed in a faded shirt and pajamas, leaned casually against his own apartment doorframe sipping warm milk, looking entirely too serious for a fourteen-year-old yet failing, and yet, his gaze held a cold, unnerving distance that made him look less like a prospective student and more like a retired author.
"Mr. Smith," she said, her voice crisp, deciding to overlook his abysmal manners. "I received your owl. I imagine you were not expecting a visit, as your attire suggests. "
"I imagine things all the time too," John cut in, pushing off the wall. His expression didn't change, but his eyes flickered briefly toward the apartment she'd been staring at. "Don't just stand in the corridor, Professor. My parents are certainly not excited about the letter considering they don't believe in this magic school thing. Please go after you." He gestured toward his open door with a weary patience that made her want to assign him detention immediately for insufferable maturity.
Minerva swept into the apartment, her robes rustling with an authoritative crackle, followed by John, who shut the door with a quiet, decisive click.
Two startled Muggles currently occupied the neat and comfortable living room. Robert Smith, who looked rather frazzled, rose halfway from the sofa, while Julie Smith held a small, blanket-wrapped bundle close to her chest.
"Who might you be, Madam—" Robert began, staring at her pointed hat with unconcealed shock.
"Professor McGonagall, deputy headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry," McGonagall stated, offering a curt, professional nod. "The what—" said a very confused Robert.
"I apologize for the intrusion, but the situation is a matter of absolute urgency."
Julie clutched her baby tighter. "Hogwarts? I heard something about it—" The letter I showed you guys, Mom." said John.
"A prank, haha…," Robert said, finally finding his voice and letting out a forced laugh. "A very elaborate, well-dressed prank. John, did you hire an actress? Is this about that 'magical school' nonsense?"
"Right, because I have the budget for that," John muttered into his mug, his eyes fixed on the steam rising from the milk.
McGonagall's lips thinned into a line so sharp it could have cut parchment. "I assure you, Mr. Smith, I am no actress. Your son possesses a rare and inherent ability—a gift for magic that our school nurtures and develops.
"Hmphf", snorted John, getting a look from all of them.
"Magic isn't real, Madam," Julie said, her voice trembling as she looked at her newborn. "It's for fairy tales. Real life is... about the things that make sense."
McGonagall didn't argue further. She reached into the folds of her robes and withdrew a slender wand of fir. With a flick of her wrist that was almost too fast to follow, she pointed it at a small wooden coffee table, changing it to an orange cat. "meow."
Robert surged backward, nearly toppling the sofa. Julie gasped, her hand embracing Noah, a little tighter. The silence that followed was heavy, broken only by the cat's purring.
"Woah," John said, breaking the spell with eyes of wide wonder. His previous cold emo mode, gone now.
***
It certainly took a while for my parents to get their heads around the idea that their son was going to a magic school, and finally we were on our way to Diagon Alley. I followed behind Professor McGonagall with my head full of questions and my pockets full of money that I didn't know we had.
"How are we going to Diagon Alley, Professor?"
"Talking much, I see." said the professor with a smirk on her face. "You awfully seem surprisingly calm for a boy with first experience of magic, so Mr. Smith, do you know something ?"
"I just had a feeling it's real." replied John giving no further explanation.
"Okay, then we have to hurry. Take my arm," said McGonagall.
Giving her his hand, he asked, "How are we going to get there again?" He knew what was going to happen, yet he asked anyway just for the sake of pretense.
"It's going to feel awful for the first time," said McGonagall before they disappeared in a swirl.
CRACK