A gust howled through the narrow alleyways of Varanasi, rattling the wooden shutters of dimly lit homes. The air crackled—not with thunder, but with magic.
Inside a modest house, a woman knelt before a brass bowl filled with water, her eyes glowing a ghostly silver. Her breath came in quick gasps. She had seen it.
"They've found us," she whispered.
Across the room, a man extends his hand outwards, his face calm but eyes sharp with calculation. With a flick of his wrist, the walls around them shimmered, their simple distorting into an illusion—a trick only a master illusionist could weave.
"Take Arnit to Vedant. He'll know what to do. Now go," he said, his voice steady. "I'll hold them off."
A young boy, no more than eight, stepped forward, instinctively shielding his mother behind him.
"I won't leave you, Father, or Mother," he insisted, struggling to keep his voice steady, though his trembling hand betrayed his fear.
The man, unmistakably the boy's father due to their striking resemblance, knelt before his son, gripping his shoulders and gazing intently into his eyes. "Listen carefully, Arnit. You knew this day might come; that's why we prepared you as best we could. You will have to confront your enemies one day, but that time is not now. Your mother will take you to your Uncle Vedant, who will ensure your safety in London. The ritual I performed will help conceal your presence, but as you grow stronger, it will become harder to hide from him. Be ready for that day, but not today. Go with your mother. Have you activated the portkey, Savita?" he asked, turning to the woman.
"I'll stay with you. Your brother will be waiting for Arnit on the other side of the portkey. I won't leave your side," Savita replied, her voice filled with determination.
The man tried to say something to convince her otherwise, but seeing the calm and resolution in her eyes, he stopped himself.
He sighed in resignation, "All right."
Suddenly, a sharp knock echoed through the house. Then another. And another.
"They are here."
The door exploded inward. A shadowy figure stepped inside, his robes rippling unnaturally, as though darkness itself clung to him. His amber eyes burnt with foresight, the mark of a powerful seer.
"You cannot run from fate," he said softly.
His wrist flickered—blue fire erupted from the ground, twisting like serpents.
Arnit's father raised his hands, murmuring an incantation. The flames bent backward, curling away from them, but the effort made his breathing ragged.
His mother turned to Arnit, placing a hand on his face. "You must go, son. There is no time."
Before Arnit could protest, the world shattered—a portkey activated beneath him. The last thing he saw was his father summoning an illusion so large it swallowed the room in shadow, and his mother's voice whispering his name as he was ripped away from them forever.
Arnit woke with a gasp, his chest rising and falling in quick, uneven breaths. His sheets were damp with sweat, and his heart pounded against his ribs like a trapped bird.
The dream—no, the memory—was fading, dissolving into the morning light filtering through the curtains of his cramped bedroom in London. But the fear, the scent of smoke, and the flash of blue fire—those always lingered.
He sat up, running a hand through his messy black hair, staring at his trembling fingers. 'Why now?'
"Another bad dream?" came a gruff voice from the doorway.
Arnit turned to his uncle, Vedant Shukla, leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed. His uncle is also a wizard but works as a teacher at a nearby school. Arnit doesn't know why he is also away from the family. He also has a wand aside from his ring as a magic conduit. He had the posture of someone who carried the weight of too many unspoken words.
Arnit nodded, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. "Yeah… just a dream."
Vedant didn't push. He never did; instead, he gestured toward the kitchen. "Come on, breakfast is ready."
The small apartment smelt of toast and masala chai, a scent that made Arnit feel a little more grounded in reality. He sat at the table, absently stirring his tea as his uncle set a yellowed envelope in front of him.
Arnit froze. His fingers trembled.
The wax seal on the envelope bore the emblem of a lion, serpent, badger, and raven surrounding the alphabet H.
For a moment neither of them spoke.
"You knew this day would come," Vedant said finally, taking a sip of his own tea.
Arnit's fingers brushed over the envelope. "I only said there are high chances. I thought, since I wasn't born here… " He trailed off, thinking about something.
"So, what will be your decision?" his uncle asked softly.
Vedant's voice interrupted his musings. "What are your thoughts, uncle?"
Vedant thought for a second, collecting his thoughts, "I think you should join. You can't ignore your destiny, Arnit. No one can. Learning at Hogwarts will benefit you in the long run. You can't run forever. I am sure my brother and sister-in-law must have thought the same. That's why they send you here, away from the Indian magical community, so that you can grow properly and become powerful enough to face that man. Don't forget, your grandfather also has your back. But he can't always be there to protect you."
Hearing about his grandfather brought a smile to Arnit's face. In the last three years, his grandfather has supported him with everything he can. Whether it's a valuable potion or some obscure knowledge, he was provided with everything he wanted.
"Okay, I'll join Hogwarts." Arnit decided, convinced by his uncle's logic.
"Good decision. Now write a reply on a paper and I'll send it in a letter to them." His uncle said with a smile on his face, clearly happy with his nephew's decision.
"Let me read the letter first, uncle." He said with a laugh, excited to open the letter.
He tore the envelope and opened the letter.
HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY
Headmaster: ALBUS DUMBLEDORE (Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorcerer, Chief Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confederation of Wizards)
Dear Mr. Arnit Shukla,
We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find an enclosed list of all necessary books and equipment.
The term begins on September 1. We await your reply by no later than July 31.
Yours sincerely,
Minerva McGonagall,
Deputy Headmistress
There was another piece of parchment, which he unfolded. It said—
HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY UNIFORM
First-year students will require:
1. Three sets of plain work cloth (black)
2. One plain pointed hat (black) for day wear
3. One pair of protective gloves (dragon hide or similar)
4. One winter cloak (black, silver fastenings)
Please note that all pupils' clothes should carry name tags.
COURSE BOOKS
All students should have a copy of each of the following:
The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1) by Miranda Goshawk
A History of Magic by Bathilda Bagshot
Magical Theory by Adalbert Waffling
A beginners' guide to Transfiguration by Emeric Switch
One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi by Phyllida Spore
Magical drafts and potions by Arsenius Jigger
Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them by Newt Scamander
Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection by Quentin Trimble
OTHER EQUIPMENT
1 Wand
1 Cauldron (pewter, standard size 2)
1 set of glass or crystal vials
1 telescope set
1 brass scale
Students may also bring an owl OR a cat OR a toad.
PARENTS ARE REMINDED THAT FIRST YEARS ARE NOT ALLOWED THEIR OWN BROOMSTICKS.