Chapter Text
Until recently, my life had been a mess.
At fifteen, I had yet to conjure even the faintest flicker of magic, and my ever-so-proud, pureblood parents had begun to accept the unthinkable. I might be a Squib.
They didn’t say it aloud, of course. That would have made it real. Instead, they let their silence speak for them, until I've become a little more than an afterthought in their grand, important lives. A failed child. A legacy that wouldn’t continue.
So, they left. Again. Off on another grand expedition to Egypt, using their diplomatic ties to gain access to the pyramids in search of ancient relics. And me? Same story, different year.
I was never neglected, it was not that. My days were planned, my every hour accounted for. Private tutors ensured I excelled in every subject except the one that mattered most. I studied languages, history, politics. I fenced for discipline, tended the gardens. When I wasn’t reading, I was sorting through old family records, cataloguing discoveries my ancestors had made - preserving a legacy I wasn’t sure I would ever truly be a part of. But no matter how skilled I became, it didn’t change the simple, cruel truth - in a family defined by magic, I had none.
Yet, in my dreams, magic was everywhere. Soft, warm, and silvery, wrapping around me like autumn mists. It curled at my fingertips, whispered in my ears - waiting to be awakened. There were voices that spoke in familiar tongues, telling me I was meant for something more, that my time would come.
So, I made a choice. If magic would never be mine in the waking world, I would let it thrive in my dreams. At least there, it had never abandoned me.
***
The letter arrived at dusk, carried by an little grey, tired looking owl. It barely waited for me to untie the parchment before taking off again, vanishing into the twilight.
I frowned. Who would write me? Nobody ever did. Not unless something bad had happened.
I hesitated before breaking the seal.
"I will come at once. Be strong."
That was it. Just seven words. But the florid signature beneath them - Eleazar Fig - was enough to send a sinking feeling into my stomach. Something was terribly wrong.
I spent the next agonising hours pacing the entrance hall, the shadows stretching across the marble floor as the last embers of daylight faded. The silence of the house felt heavier than usual, as if the very walls were holding their breath.
By the time the knock came, I almost couldn’t move. As if standing still might hold the moment in place, keep it from happening. But it didn’t. It never did.
I opened the door. Fig stood on the threshold, travel-worn, grim, his robes dusted, his face lined deeper than I remembered.
"Uncle?" My voice felt strange in my throat.
He stepped inside, shutting the door behind him. Didn’t speak right away. Just took off his hat and ran a hand through his greying hair. "Your parents."
"What happened?"
"Their expedition… it's gone," he hesitated. "They’re gone."
My heartbeat pounded like war drums.
"No."
"I left them for just one day." His words were heavy with guilt. "They were attempting to open the Occulus Chamber. I saw the explosion from my broom in the distance. A burst of purple flames… and then..." he was searching for words. "Nothing. No ruins. No remains. All gone."
The floor shifted beneath me and something inside me snapped - a dam breaking, a force I had never felt before clawing its way to the surface. Every window in the house shattered, glass raining down like deadly stardust.
I barely registered it. But Fig did. He rushed to me in an attempt to pacify me, grabbed my shoulders and caught me in a tight hug. I wasn't really aware of anything in that moment.
"Well." He commented after a while, almost to himself. "Took its time, but there it is."
"What?" I still didn't get it.
"Your magic." He studied me. "You are indeed a witch, my dear."
***
Fig didn’t leave. He’d silently decided I shouldn't be dealing with this on my own. For days, we dug through the family library, chasing dead ends in brittle old tomes, tracing bloodlines, searching for any clue of why had my magic taken its sweet time showing up? Was it some kind of inheritance? A curse? A cosmic joke? Our search yielded nothing.
"Magic doesn’t always follow rules we understand," Fig explained one evening. "Maybe the ‘why’ matters less than the ‘what now'?’"
Right. Very wise. Extremely helpful.
"So, what now?" I asked, having absolutely no idea how to wield the newly found power.
"No time like the present," he said. "You’ve got magic now. Might as well use it."
He trotted off to handle all the formalities - the Ministry paperwork, securing my claim to the Muir Vault at Gringotts. Legally, I would be under his care now.
Apparently, I was now Lady Muir. Fancy title, didn’t mean much.
He returned a day later, bearing a second hand wand and an announcement. "I spoke with the Ministry… and Headmaster Black. If you so choose, you can start at Hogwarts this September."
I blinked. I knew he was teaching there, and I was very aware that come September, he’d be leaving me.
I’d spent my entire life daydreaming about that school, but it never once occurred to me that I could just… start this late.
And so, the preparations began. He drilled me through the basics, correcting, adjusting, making me unlearn as much as I learned. Magic had rules I had never been taught to follow. I stumbled through my first spells.
Each day brought something new - spellwork, theory, dueling stances, even a crash course in magical etiquette, apparently, being a Lady came with obligations.
The library, once a graveyard of unanswered questions, became a place of discovery. Understanding.
For the first time in my life, I belonged. For brief moments, I could even forget the hollow space where my parents should have been, celebrating this new reality at my side.
***
As the days passed, magic became more natural. But every now and then, strange things happened.
Once, while practicing a simple Lumos, my wand flared too bright, sending deep blue threads through the air before snapping back to normal. Fig had been watching, but said nothing.
Another time, while reading an old family tome, ink that should have faded centuries ago briefly glowed beneath my fingertips. Maybe my newfound magic had a thing for dramatic reveals.
We didn’t talk about it, but Fig was an observant man. Just as we packed to leave for Hogwarts, he presented me with a small, intricately detailed locket.
"This belonged to Miriam," he said. Miriam. His late wife. He rarely spoke of her. She'd been gone a long time. "Try to open it for me, please."
Something about the locket called to me.
"She was researching Ancient Magic… a kind of magic already thought lost to this world. I believe it may be connected to your awakening.", he was still explaining.
The moment my fingers brushed against it, a strange, tingling warmth spread through my fingertips. I hesitated, then shrugged and pried it open. A key. Small, ornate, golden, shimmering in this silvery hue.
Well. What now?
Fig was watching me closely. "So, it is true…" he commented, more to himself.
I looked up. "What is?"
"Miriam was right. Nobody ever managed to open this box before. You see, that... is no ordinary key. It’s a Portkey. And if I’m right, it was meant for you."
The fire crackled in silence. What was he about?
Fig, as usual, skipped over all the logical follow-ups. Instead, he grabbed our cloaks, took my arm, and simply said, "Hold onto that key - tightly."
As I did, a jolt of magic surged through us, the room twisted...
And then, we were gone.
***
The timeline was a blur.
One moment, I was gripping the key in the study - the next, we stumbled into the depths of Gringotts. Vault 12 it was. What we found there… changed everything.
The moment I stepped in, the room responded. A strange symbol flared up in the otherwise empty room. So much for treasures.
I did not recognise it, but I somehow understood. This was to be a journey.
Yes, yes, ancient magical guardians.. Well.
Then we got ambushed by an ugly, cocky goblin who, apparently, knew more about my situation than I did. 'The one who can wield it,' he called me, right before trying to kill me.
This was no time to chat this through. The vault trembled and so, we ran.
And now, here we were. Hogwarts stood before us. Every bit as magnificent as I’d imagined.
Guess I wasn’t getting my Hogwarts Express moment after all.