Two weeks before leaving for Hogwarts, Jon finally settled into the restored Smith manor.
The scent of polish lingered on the wooden floors. Sunlight spilled across the quiet study, where parchment and books had already claimed most of the desk. Carly perched by the window, preening contentedly in the warmth.
Nearby stood a small, slender figure.
Caledi, his house-elf.
She hovered with careful stillness, hands folded, eyes large and watchful. Her movements carried restraint rather than clumsiness. Jon had noticed it immediately. She had learned caution somewhere else.
Not here.
He still disliked the word gift. The idea of ownership sat poorly with him, no matter how the law framed it.
"Do you like working here?" he had asked on her first day.
"Caledi will serve faithfully, Master Jon."
"Just Jon," he had said.
She had hesitated, then nodded.
Now she worked quietly at his side. Not a possession, but a presence. Sometimes, even a partner in practice.
"Wingardium Leviosa," Jon muttered, flicking his wand.
The feather trembled, lifted a few inches, then burst into a puff of singed fluff.
He winced. "Progress. Technically."
Caledi watched from the corner. "Jon should rest. Magic listens when the heart is quiet."
"I am calm," he said, then paused. "Mostly."
His next attempt produced sparks. He rubbed his temple. "So much for theory."
Caledi hesitated. "Magic is not learned like numbers. It must feel trust."
Jon considered that.
She was right. Logic alone would not carry him forward.
He slowed his breathing. This time, he focused on the feather's weight rather than its motion.
It rose. Unsteady, but real.
Caledi's eyes brightened. "Jon listens now."
He smiled faintly. "I needed a better teacher."
Days settled into a pattern of careful practice. Trial. Error. Incremental success.
Bella visited often, leaning against the doorway as he worked through annotated notes.
"You're impossible," she said once. "You're not even at Hogwarts yet."
"Preparation saves time," Jon replied without looking up.
She sighed. "You sound like Grandma."
He smiled. "High praise."
He did not tell her the truth.
That this was not excitement. It was a caution.
At night, he practised mental discipline. Stillness. Focus. Learning how to quiet his thoughts rather than chase them. It brought clarity. Perhaps, one day, it might offer protection.
The night before departure arrived quietly.
Jon packed with care. Books checked. Robes folded. His enchanted suitcase closed smoothly beside the bed. A simple silver ring rested on his finger, its hidden storage holding essentials he did not wish to misplace.
From downstairs, his mother's voice carried upward.
"Jon. Don't forget your cloak."
"I've got it, Mum."
She appeared in the doorway, adjusting his collar with a fond smile. "You've grown so much. Hogwarts won't know what to do with you."
He chuckled. "It's just school."
His father leaned against the frame behind her. "Still," he said, pride soft but unmistakable, "our first wizard in generations."
Jon met their eyes. "I'll do my best."
"That's enough," Lynn said gently.
Bella shouted from below. "Jon. Floo in five minutes."
"Coming."
Caledi waited by the door.
"You remember what I asked?" Jon said.
"Yes. No one enters the study or practice room. Caledi will keep the house safe."
"And take care of yourself, too."
She inclined her head. "Jon is kind. Caledi remembers."
He picked up his suitcase and headed downstairs.
The hearth glowed green. Bella rolled her eyes. "You pack slower than Grandma."
"Efficiency takes time."
She laughed and stepped into the flames. "See you there."
They would Floo to the Leaky Cauldron, then continue to King's Cross.
Jon paused for one last look. His room. His house. Something that felt earned rather than given.
Then he stepped into the fire.
Emerald flames wrapped around him.
Behind him, the manor settled into silence. Outside, the wind moved through the trees. Not threatening. Not calm.
Watchful.
Tomorrow, Hogwarts awaits.
And for Jon Smith, preparation would finally meet exposure.
Deep beneath the restored manor, something old acknowledged the change.
Not awake.
Not yet.
(End of Chapter 8)