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Sanctum Sanctorum, London [A year later - 2001]
–Damian Hawthorne–
His flying drop kick pose remained the same as he merely floated into the Sanctum when the doors opened on their own before his shoes could touch the door, the wood of which was probably older than him or even Corven, for that matter. Speaking of whom…
"Master Corven!" He shouted in glee, as he fluidly changed his pose mid air, gliding on the ground as he felt the magic of the Sanctum's wards converge upon him, likely on the order of the Sanctum Master, in a bid to constrain him, powered by the vast Ley Lines running underneath it.
All in all, it would be very hard for someone to escape the wards of any Sanctum, as they are all empowered by each other, on top of the shield that draws energy from the Earth itself, creating a nice feedback loop that makes sure that nothing below a certain power level could ever enter the Sanctum and move about freely.
Now, not to say that he was at that level, but…
A distant "W-what?" echoed in the Sanctum as he just stood there, hands in his pocket, smirking as he had successfully rebuffed the Sanctum's attempt to imprison him. Within moments, the wary face of MAster Corven, hidden behind a Tao Mandala, surfaced from one of the hallways.
He remained the same, smiling at the aged Master, his one contact with Kamar Taj, looking at him with his flabbers gasted.
"So?" He prompted the man, spreading his arms wide and then snapping his fingers, as magic pinged off his fingers, the surrounding magical enchantments, the Sanctum Walls, the wards before returning to him, a wispy white glow around his fingers before he dispelled it, "How did I do?"
The Tao Mandala dissipated as the man took wary steps forward, looking at him top to bottom, in a bid to reassure himself that it was Damian and not some imposter, only to smack Damian upside the head.
"Ow! What was that for!"
"You moron! You disappear for almost a year and then come back abruptly, only to rebuff the Sanctum wards as if they were…" Corven paused a little here and then smirked, before continuing, a vindictive gleam in his eyes, "your work when you first came here."
"Hey!" He pointed his finger at the now smiling man, "I'll have you know I was self-taught back then. I would like to see you try to figure out all that in months."
"At least I didn't come out of the whole ordeal addicted."
He flushed as he averted his gaze from the knowing gaze of the Sanctum Master. He was talking about his milk addiction. Somehow, that was leaked to Master Corven. All because he wanted to renew the enchantment on the bottle and also to learn how to make those.
Alas, that fell under Sorcery, since it would require him searching for and latching onto an alternate dimension. So, all he was left with was a way to pull a fluid from somewhere, regulate the pressure, and fill a fixed container as soon as the fluid levels dipped below a certain level.
Educational? Yes. Useful? No.
"It's not my fault that the milk from that place simply tastes different," His defense was weak and he knew that, as Corven smiled and, thankfully, changed the subject, since he was still a kid and that came with the hormones of one. Being aware of it mentally does help but not always.
"So, I assume you came here for something else other than just showing off," Corven said as he snapped his fingers, as reality glitched around them, depositing them in one of the lounge rooms, all with a comfortable fireplace and supremely cushioned chairs.
The fireplace was just decorative, though. Depending on the wishes of the people inside the lounge or of the Sanctum MAster, the room's temperature was changed, and he could turn it to freezing if he wanted to. The fire would keep on burning, with no change in the temperature of the room.
Yet another of Kamar Taj's fantastic yet maddening little things that he couldn't wait to dissect when he finally got access to this place. He swore he was going to tear this whole place down, to learn all of its enchantments.
The all consuming desire to learn more and more until nothing was left to learn and then learn some more, was still present, as it was in his early days but he had long since learned to counter it, with mostly existential threat and small hits of dopamine from finishing a set goal on his own.
"Yes," He answered the sanctum Master's question, as he said, "I am finally going to Hogwarts!"
Corven sat straighter at that, the cup of tea that was at his lips stilling as he put it down and gave Damian his full attention, "Go on."
"So, I didn't risk going in myself, but did you know you could bribe some lower nobles for shocking little, to get some classified records from the Ministry?" He rambled on as Corven listened patiently.
A side effect of spending long periods of time locked up in his base, alone with his enchantments, his notes(also enchanted), and his mind, was that he spoke a lot and for a long time whenever given the opportunity.
An issue he would have to be aware of when he went to Hogwarts. No need for anyone there to know that they shared a classroom with someone who went against their fabled Headmaster once upon a time.
"Yes," Corven said, "The corruption in all wizarding cultures is well known. I assume you are going somewhere with this? Did you finally find your lineage? Something I told you to do years ago."
He nodded at that, "Yup. I still remember it. 1 year and 7 months ago, you told me to see if I had some family. Well, I didn't and it was stupid anyway. I had a lot of other, more interesting, stuff to do."
"Anyway," He spoke, barreling past the awkward topic of him rebuffing any attempts from Corven on any conversation regarding his lineage in this world. Whether he actually had parents or not. Many times, dozens in fact, he had the chance to just speak and someone would have done something to get him the information, if it existed anyway, but he chickened out at the last moment.
He did not know what he would do with that information, in both the scenarios. It was confusing, his mind inferring from the adult experience it had from the past life that it would be better to have parents than not to have them, especially of magical variety but the new one? The one who had gotten used to living on their own, without anyone to accompany? It was…scared. Of latching onto someone and then finding them wanting, simply because no normal wizard could match his enhanced status.
"As I was saying, I finally got around to doing it, and I will be going to Hogwarts this year, I assume. I have not yet received any letter but they mostly go out in June or July. Which means we have very little time to–"
"I am sorry. We?" Corven interrupted, his eyes narrowing as he sensed the incoming wave of bullshit.
"Yes," He said, completely innocently, not even acknowledging the blatant suspicion on the man's expressive face, "You see, it is the Hogwarts acceptance letter, which means it has to be delivered somewhere. Very primitive but I assume it's all part of their tradition. Anyway, it would be really odd for them to deliver that letter to my base so I was just thinking of—"
"Moving into the Sanctum? You intend to use the Sanctum as a, what? A PO box?" Ooh, boy. The veins were showing.
He waved the man's concerns away, "Noo! Can I, though?"
"Absolutely not!"
"Please?"
"I will not have the Sanctum's dignity reduced to–to this. Not while I still draw breath!"
"Fine," He slumped in the chair, "We will do it elsewhere, then. I will need you to rent an apartment for me."
"What?"
He sighed. This was going to be a long day.
__xx__
Good news was that he was successful in wearing down the man, eventually getting an agreement to just rent an apartment in his name. He will move there for the next two months.
The method of Hogwarts deciding the address was still vague to him. There was no concrete information about it anywhere, not even the mooks in the ministry had any idea about it as the Book that records the birth of every magical child was kept tightly locked up behind safe walls, accessible only to Hogwarts personnel.
Even they did not have year round access, using the book only to confirm the data they get from the book every year, on top of the data that the Ministry collects.
They also got the address about the magical child from that book, or so the grapevine told him. He desperately wished that his base was not exposed to the rest of the world simply because he refused to move at the last moment.
He also had not chosen how to present himself when the school representative came, or if his birth parents came when they finally found out that one of their sons was still alive.
Yes, he had parents here. A truth he had suspected for many years and had not pursued because he wanted to avoid precisely the scenario that was about to play out in a couple of months.
The Hawthorne family, was a noble house, but barely. They were not Weasleys by any stretch of the imagination, though they did have the same propensity to just pop out kids like rabbits, but they were no Malfoys.
The Hawthorne, were a new noble family, the current line having come to Magical Britain only 50 years ago, with the rest of the extended family spread across the rest of Europe, North America, and pockets of Asia, though the latter were just descendants left from colonial occupation.
All lines everywhere just shared the names, not the resources. Which is probably why they were not as filthy rich as they should be. The current family head, one Liam Hawthorne, was his father. A middle aged, wizard, father of 9(!) children, including him. He apparently had two younger siblings, and he was the only one who will be in Hogwarts this year.
He still had no idea on what to do when approached by them. Master Corven was being uncooperative and he was loath to bring someone else in the middle of all this.
He was also not mentioned anywhere in the non magical records of kids being birthed, but he was very sure that it would not be a problem for the folks at Hogwaerts, since the communication between both the governments was basically nil, only limited to asking for information whenever something truly major happened that spilled over into the non magical world.
Even then, it was mostly a courtesy that the Minister of Magic at the time could choose not to extend.
He sighed, as he flipped through the newspaper, looking for an apartment. A far cry from where(or when?) he was from, where dozens of listings were available at the tap of a finger.
Last he heard, people were doing contactless listings and showings, avoiding any human contact due to social anxiety.
A real and tangible mental issue, but something that was going to spell the end of normal human interaction as they knew it. It was something even he could tell. He wondered if this world would take the same route as well, when it came to the world shrinking, digitally, but the distance between people ever-growing.
Maybe he should do something about that? See if some course correction could be done.
Maybe save Harambe while he was at it?
…..
…
He shook his head, banishing those thoughts immediately. The last time he tried to put his nose in global affairs, clear in his mind, as he vowed to focus on getting stronger and then influence timeline altering events.
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