Alexander didn't know exactly when Hagrid and Harry would arrive. After all, it had been sixty years. So he decided to book a room at the Leaky Cauldron for the night and wait for the arrival of the gentle giant and the boy.
The pub wasn't particularly busy. Seated at the bar, Alexander sipped a good cup of coffee while reading the Daily Prophet. A few people greeted him in passing, but he dismissed them with a curt nod, unwilling to prolong the conversation.
He only looked up from the newspaper when he heard a stammering voice nearby.
There he was.
A tall, thin man wearing a turban was struggling to converse with a group of wizards.
Alexander's fingers twitched with the urge to draw his wand and unleash every curse he knew upon that damned man. But he knew it would be pointless. This was neither the time nor the place.
As if sensing his gaze, Quirrell turned and quickly walked toward him.
"Minister Goldenhart! What an honor to find you here!" he said, his voice cheerful despite the nervous stuttering.
Alexander raised his piercing blue eyes, his gaze heavy and impassive.
"Professor. It's been a while. How have you been?"
His words were polite, but his tone was cold, laced with irritation. Quirrell immediately understood what the man before him wanted to convey.
Before he could step away, Alexander noticed the sky beyond the windows beginning to lighten.
Morning had arrived.
A commotion at the entrance of the pub caught his attention.
A group of wizards had gathered around a skinny boy and a towering, hairy man. Hagrid and Harry had arrived.
Quirrell said nothing more. He simply turned and made his way toward the boy.
Alexander's stomach twisted. The audacity of that wretch…
He shut the newspaper with force, folding it neatly, and stood up. His steps were heavy but silent as he made his way to the back door of the pub.
He waited there, in front of a brick wall, for a few minutes until the imposing figure of Hagrid and the small boy appeared before him.
Hagrid's eyes widened in surprise, and he nervously began smoothing his beard and hair.
Harry, on the other hand, watched with curiosity.
The man before him exuded authority. He was tall—though not as much compared to Hagrid—with short graying hair and a neatly trimmed beard. His deep blue eyes carried an undeniable air of command. But there was something else. Something Harry couldn't quite put into words.
The man looked… sad.
Alexander studied him for a long moment before finally saying,
"You look like your grandfather, little one."
Harry blinked, startled. His grandfather?
Alexander noticed his confusion and quickly spoke again.
"Forgive me, Harry. That was a bit intrusive of me. Your appearance just caught me off guard. Where are my manners?"
He bent slightly and extended his hand toward the boy.
"My name is Alexander Goldenhart. I was a great friend of your grandfather's."
Harry shook his hand firmly, though still a bit apprehensive.
"You knew my grandfather?" he asked, curiosity creeping into his voice.
Alexander nodded with a nostalgic smile.
"Yes. We worked together for a time. He was a good man… Just like your father. And just like you will be."
With a calm gesture, Alexander reached into his coat pocket and pulled out an old golden pocket watch. He placed it in Harry's hands.
"This watch belonged to him. Your grandfather gave it to me forty years ago. He would have wanted you to have it now."
Harry took the watch, stunned. The object looked old and valuable. A gift like this… He didn't know how to react. He hesitated for a moment before instinctively pressing the watch against his chest.
"Thank you, Mr. Alexander."
The old man didn't respond. He simply smiled and ruffled the boy's hair affectionately. Then he turned to Hagrid, who looked a bit nervous.
"I must go. I'll leave young Harry in your care, Hagrid. Give my regards to Professor McGonagall."
The half-giant straightened up and replied quickly,
"Yes, Minister! I—I'll send your regards."
Alexander simply nodded and disappeared back into the Leaky Cauldron, vanishing into the shadows of the pub.
Harry, still puzzled, looked up at Hagrid.
"Who was he?"
Hagrid sighed before answering in a tone filled with respect,
"That, Harry, is the Minister for Magic. He governs the entire wizarding world of Britain. But he's more than that. Alexander Goldenhart is a great wizard. Years ago, he saved many lives. Even lost a leg... but he kept fightin'. He's a good man, Harry. You should always treat him with respect when you see him."
Harry was surprised.
He looked down at the pocket watch in his hands. Curious, he opened it.
Inside, there was a photograph.
A beautiful blonde woman smiled beside a younger man who looked remarkably like Alexander. And beside him, another young man—someone who seemed strangely familiar...
Perhaps his grandfather.
Harry smiled at the sight of the photo.