On the third day, Harry finally woke up. He woke just in time, because that day marked the end of the school year — a year that would close, as always, when everyone finished their final dinner in the Great Hall.
Although Solim had prepared himself for what was coming, knowing full well how things would turn out, he couldn't help but glance across the hall when Dumbledore stood up and announced that nearly two hundred points were being awarded to Gryffindor.
Draco Malfoy, sitting beside him, scowled and muttered a curse under his breath.
"I told you long ago," Solim said calmly, cutting another slice of strawberry cake, "you should've been mentally prepared for this."
"They can add points," Draco grumbled, "so can we! Why do you just give up like that—"
Solim raised an eyebrow. "Did we do anything, Draco? We only went to watch. We didn't actually do anything that deserved points." He wiped a few crumbs from the corner of his mouth and added quietly, "Besides, remember which House we're in. If certain things ever come to light, I might be fine — but your life wouldn't be so easy."
Draco paused, spoon in hand, thinking about that. After a moment, he reluctantly nodded.
There were still plenty of students in Slytherin who openly admired Voldemort — or at least, their families did. And it was Voldemort himself who had tried to steal the Sorcerer's Stone. Word of that would spread quickly.
Those families would soon know who had been there that night. And when they found out that young Malfoy — a name so tied to the Dark Lord — had been there but hadn't lifted a finger to help him… what would they think?
Would they say Draco had betrayed his House? Aligned himself with Dumbledore's side?
The thought alone could stir dangerous whispers. There were still plenty of Voldemort's old loyalists walking free, untouched by trials or prison.
If they began to suspect the Malfoy family of treachery, that could bring no end of trouble — for Draco, and for Lucius as well.
Even at school, while no one would dare harm him directly, isolation was its own punishment. A cold shoulder here, a whispered insult there — and life could quickly become unbearable.
Solim broke the silence. "By the way, Draco, I'll take some time to visit your house this holiday."
"Oh! Then Malfoy Manor will open its doors to welcome you," Draco said eagerly. "My father will be delighted! He was impressed when I told him about your silent spellcasting last time. He even said you should visit whenever you could."
Solim smiled slightly. "I'll let you know when I come. It'll be sometime this holiday, that's for sure."
He had his reasons for wanting that visit. There was something in Malfoy Manor that mattered to him — an old notebook he needed to make sure would find its way into Hogwarts by next semester. Meeting Lucius Malfoy was part of that plan.
The next morning, the castle buzzed with movement. Students packed their trunks, chatting and shouting across dormitories as they prepared to leave on the Hogwarts Express.
Solim didn't join the rush to the train. Instead, he made his way to Hogsmeade alone. Spending seven or eight hours on a train when he could use the Floo Network seemed foolish. It wasn't the most pleasant form of travel — the soot, the dizziness, the slightly singed sleeves — but it was efficient, and efficiency mattered more than comfort.
With a whoosh of green fire, Solim stepped out into the Leaky Cauldron.
It was early morning, the bar still quiet. Scanning the room, he quickly spotted the person he was looking for.
"Hi, my dear sister," he said, sitting down across from her. "Did you arrive last night or this morning?"
Sirna was halfway through her breakfast. "Last night," she replied, puffing her cheeks a little. "Tom gave me a room. I already paid for it."
"How are you feeling? Any discomfort? Anything strange with your body?" Solim asked, his tone soft but serious.
"Can't you wait until I finish eating?" she grumbled.
Solim raised his hands in surrender and waited patiently while she finished her food.
Once done, they went upstairs together to her room.
"So," Solim began, "your body feels fine? No pain, no dizziness? Your magic's stable?"
Sirna nodded, smiling faintly. "Everything's fine. My magic feels stronger every day."
That was enough to make Solim relax — though only a little. He wasn't one to let his guard down so easily.
He nodded. "Good. Still, I'll keep an eye on you for a while, just to be sure."
He hesitated, then asked, "So, what did Grandpa prepare for you?"
Sirna's problem — her being born a Squib — had finally been solved. With the help of Gilvez, their grandfather Elrond had found a way to awaken her magical potential. She was no longer powerless.
"Oh! Grandpa left you a letter," Sirna said suddenly, rummaging through her suitcase.
Her box, like Solim's, was enchanted with internal space — though hers was smaller, more compact. After digging for a moment, she handed Solim a folded letter sealed with the family crest.
He read it carefully. Halfway through, his eyebrows rose. "Wait — you don't have a wand yet?"
Sirna pouted. "Yeah. Grandpa was going to take me to the family storage room to pick one, but then Second Uncle came back unexpectedly. Grandpa had to stop. He said he'd think of another way later."
Solim sighed. That explained why the letter said nothing about it.
The Selwyn family's storage room contained many ancient wands passed down through generations — powerful relics. But as Ollivander always said, 'The wand chooses the wizard.'
Solim had tried every wand in that room once. Only the wand known as Bone Spur had accepted him. The others had ignored him entirely.
Sirna, however, hadn't even gotten the chance to try.
"It's fine," Solim said reassuringly. "Ollivander makes excellent wands. His are especially good for young witches just starting out. When you're older, we'll have one custom-made for you by the Kujijia craftsmen."
Sirna nodded reluctantly. Both of them knew — as descendants of an old wizarding line — that ancient family wands were far superior to the modern ones. But for now, there was no choice.
Solim turned to his trunk and began pulling out the books he'd used last semester. "Here," he said, stacking them on the table. "I've marked all the important points and test notes. If you run into something confusing, just ask me. We'll be staying here for a bit anyway."
Sirna blinked. "Staying here? You mean we're spending the vacation here?"
"Exactly," Solim said simply.
She hesitated, then pointed toward the single bed in the room. "Um… then how are we supposed to sleep? There's only one bed."
Solim rolled his eyes. "Didn't you pack a bed in your box? Or you can have this one, and I'll sleep inside mine."
He glanced at the bed — a bit old, slightly lumpy, and not particularly clean. He didn't mind giving it up.
"I've never been inside your box," Sirna said, curiosity lighting her eyes. "Open it! I want to see what it's like inside."
Solim chuckled but obliged. With a tap of his wand, the enchanted trunk unfolded, revealing the staircase that led down into its hidden space.
They stepped inside together.
Before they reached the bottom, Sirna's voice rang out indignantly. "Hey! That's not fair! Grandpa gave you such a big bed! Mine's tiny!" She turned toward him, hands on her hips. "I don't care! You're sleeping outside — I'm claiming this one!"
Solim shrugged, amused. "Suit yourself. You can sleep wherever you want. We'll go to Ollivander's later to get your wand."
Satisfied, she threw herself onto the large bed while Solim climbed back out, shaking his head.
After packing their things, the two stepped out into Diagon Alley.
The street was unusually quiet. Morning sunlight slanted across the cobblestones, catching on the shop signs. Most stores hadn't opened yet. Few people wandered about — only the occasional witch hurrying by with parcels or a shopkeeper sweeping their doorstep.
After all, it was early, and most of Diagon Alley's regulars — especially Hogwarts students — were still on the train home, laughing, shouting, and sharing sweets.
Solim smirked faintly to himself. "I wonder how many people have made it through those underpants-on-the-train moments," he muttered, recalling the endless pranks and chaos of past trips.
Sirna gave him a puzzled look, but Solim only smiled.
"Come on," he said. "Let's get you your wand."
And with that, the two of them set off down the quiet, sunlit alley — toward a new beginning neither of them could quite yet see.
End of Chapter 56
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