A Certain Magical Hogwarts

Out of nowhere, Nicolas Flamel appeared on the balcony, as if he'd materialized from thin air.

Watching William, who was lost in thought, he smiled and said, "I've adjusted the memories of your parents and Hermione's parents. They'll remember it as a pleasant afternoon outing. If I hadn't changed them, they'd probably have pulled you out of school." 

He chuckled. "However, Hermione and your sister were quite insistent, so I didn't alter their memories."

Hermione snorted and muttered, "I'm a witch! Why should anyone change my memory?"

William glanced over at her, giving a slight nod of approval.

"As for how I arrived ahead of time…" 

Flamel continued, "I have a bit of precognition. I foresaw the events at Gringotts in my prophecy orb. And Fawkes… well, he isn't bound by the rules that limit human wizards. He can Apparate anywhere, even in Gringotts."

William couldn't help but laugh softly.

"I haven't paid any mind to their little attempts to manipulate me," he said. "It's only that I might have caused some trouble for you and Professor Dumbledore by attacking that Auror."

Flamel turned to gaze up at the starlit sky. "As for that, Albus wanted me to pass along a message for you."

"Oh? What is it?" William asked.

"Albus says not to worry about Fudge; he'll handle him. He's wanted to put certain Aurors in their place for quite some time but hadn't wished to come across as too heavy-handed." Flamel chuckled.

"He also reminds you to be discharged before term starts so you don't miss the Sorting Ceremony."

William was stunned. Dumbledore was… that ruthless? There really weren't many ordinary folks among the Gryffindors, it seemed.

Flamel grinned and added, "Truthfully, I'd like to give the Ministry a good reminder myself. Back in my time, it wasn't even called the Ministry of Magic yet but rather the Council of Wizards. Once, I even got into a fight with the head of the council, someone equivalent to today's Minister for Magic, and a whole council of wizards chased me across Paris for an entire night."

As Flamel recounted these tales, both William and Hermione listened with rapt attention.

After a while, he sighed, "Well, I must be off to Devon; Perenelle is waiting for me for dinner. Oh, one more thing. I'm turning 665 this Christmas. I'd like to invite you both to my birthday celebration." He winked playfully.

William laughed. "Congratulations!"

Hermione, surprised, asked, "Me too?"

"Of course," Flamel replied, smiling. "Just don't forget to bring me a gift."

Hermione's eyes sparkled with excitement as she nodded eagerly.

And with that, Nicolas Flamel left, taking the bedraggled and now very un-glamorous Fawkes with him.

Now, the hospital room was silent, with only William and Hermione remaining. Hermione buried herself in her book again, pretending to read.

William, without a word, walked over to the balcony, leaning against the railing. 

Hermione followed, carrying her textbook as if she were his shadow, ready to keep an eye on him and prevent him from launching into another battle at any moment.

Feeling restless, William took out his wand and tapped two potted plants on the balcony, transforming them into long benches. There was no explosion this time; he was slowly getting used to his surge in magical power.

William lay back on one of the benches, gazing at the vast starry sky, lost in thought.

"Are all first-year graduates like you?" Hermione asked enviously.

She didn't mention the ban on underage magic; after all, if William hadn't cast spells, she might not even be here.

"Of course not," William replied. "If everyone was on my level, I wouldn't have won a Merlin Award."

Hermione pouted, silent. This must be what it feels like to talk to a true genius.

William then conjured a piece of parchment, bringing to mind the dark wizard's spell that had killed the dragon. 

He conjured a table, leaving Hermione alone as he started sketching the wand movements and the incantation he remembered.

Out of the corner of his eye, William noticed Hermione on her tiptoes, sneaking peeks at his notes. He didn't bother to confront her—after all, she'd looked after him the past few days, so he let her take a peek.

He traced the magic in his mind, drew his wand, and, imitating the dark wizard's movements, flicked it toward a distant tree branch. 

But the leaves merely scattered, and no leaf-blade coalesced.

William tried the spell again and again with the same results. He said nothing, only sighing internally. 

He could mimic the movements and speak the words, but without understanding the magic's core, he couldn't replicate it.

It looked like he'd have to ask Dumbledore about it someday… there was probably no spell the Headmaster didn't know.

Hermione, meanwhile, had watched for a while, but she could make no sense of the advanced magic he was attempting. 

Eventually, she raised her own wand and began attempting transformations from her first-year textbooks.

After a few moments, however, her target chair hadn't changed at all.

William observed her from the corner of his eye for a few seconds, then said, smiling, "For beginners, don't try to transform something as complex as that right away."

"Then what should I transform?"

William moved closer to her, plucking a loose brown strand from her curly hair.

"Try transforming this into a needle."

Hermione clutched her head defensively, then marched over and yanked two strands of hair from William in retaliation.

She pointed her wand at the hairs in her hand, but after a moment, only the faintest hint of magic had touched them.

"It seems your transfiguration talent is about as limited as mine was at first," William remarked.

"Then can you teach me?" Hermione asked, eyes wide and bright with hope.

William nodded. "Of course. We have a whole month left before school starts, so I can teach you slowly."

"Oh, right," Hermione said suddenly, "did you notice anything different?"

"What?"

"My braces! Madam Liszt removed them and used magic to straighten my teeth."

She grinned, revealing a row of straight, pearly white teeth, polished to perfection—a result of her mother being a dentist.

"Nice, right?" she said proudly.

William smiled. "They look great."

Apparently unused to compliments, Hermione's face turned an adorable shade of pink. 

She relaxed and was about to smile when William added, "Though your front teeth are a bit large."

Hermione's smile vanished. She glared at him, deciding to stop talking to him altogether.

William raised his wand and pointed at her two front teeth.

"Wait, what are you doing?" Hermione backed away, alarmed.

"I'm going to shrink them for you. They'd look even better if they were a little smaller," William said earnestly. "Stay still now. My magic has grown stronger, and if you move, it'll make it harder to control."

Hermione stood warily by his side, her expression hesitant.

"Oops," William said abruptly. "It seems I accidentally made them bigger."

"You…!" Hermione's face crumpled in distress; she looked like she might burst into tears. If she could strangle him, she might.

William turned the hair she'd pulled out into a mirror, handing it to her.

Hermione examined her reflection, then turned and pounced on him, yelling, "You liar!"

But there was laughter in her voice, and her eyes sparkled, dimples appearing on her cheeks. 

Her smile, in that moment, was more radiant than all the stars in the sky.

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