The train ride back to Hogwarts started like any other. I found a compartment with Harry, Hermione, Ron, and Neville. We'd barely started settling in when the door slid open. Draco and Nikita stepped in. Draco crossed his arms.
"Room for two more?" Ron narrowed his eyes immediately, reaching toward his bag. "I'll let Slick at him." "Slick?" Draco asked with a raised brow. "My new weasel familiar," Ron replied. "Bites first, asks questions later."
That was a bluff if anything Ron's new pet was actually a very nice and relaxed weasel. Sometimes I forget take away all the magic and you have a bunch of kids being kids.
"Easy," I said calmly. "Draco's good they're my friends. And I need to know what happened in Slytherin while I was gone." Ron scowled, but eventually grumbled, "Fine. If you vouch for them, Callum."
It was tight in the compartment, but we squeezed in. I looked around the group. "From now on, whenever we're together, we're civil. Respectful. Got it?"
Draco leaned back, arms behind his head. "I don't have a problem with that. Potter and Weasley are basically my relatives anyway. We don't have to like each other—but we don't have to fight, either. If any of my housemates give you trouble, I'll handle it."
Nikita smiled. "Same here."
Hermione folded her arms. "No problem if Callum says so, mind studying with me Nikita." Nikita grinned. "Of course. As long as you still do morning runs with me."
Hermione groaned. "Oh gods, please no."
Neville raised his hand. "Can I join those runs even though I not good at it?" "Of course," I said. "All of us need to train. I've got a few spells I want everyone to learn."
Ron and Hermione leaned in. "Like one of your families powerful or secret spells?"
I smirked. " No nothing like that but I will tell you later. First things first." I looked at Draco and Nikita. "Tell me what happened after I left Slytherin."
Nikita sat forward. "Nothing happened at first. It was quiet. Then the upper years started trying to go back to the old ways. Bullying student's and harsher pranks to anyone who is a friend of yours. Especially him—the one who used the Unforgivable Curse on you."
Hermione's eyes widened. "So it was true?"
"Are you okay?" Neville's eyes focused on me with a look of worry.
"Yes, I'm fine I promise" I said. "But I'm better than fine now so please continue, Nikita."
She nodded. "A few of us, some first-years, second-years... and Harry, we stood up to them. They tried to scare us, said we'd end up like you."
Harry crossed his arms. "But before anything happened, Dumbledore, Professor Snape, with Ministry Aurors came in and arrested them."
Nikita added, "Since then, Slytherin's been quiet."
I turned to Draco. "How are things at home?" He exhaled. "My father's angry. A lot of his Ministry contacts were arrested, are waiting trial, or cut ties. There's an investigation about him being a Death Eater, one of Voldemort's top ones."
Then Neville spoke up. "My parents are at a recovery retreat in China. When they return, they're expected to testify about what they remember."
Draco nodded. "My mother told me to stay close to you and Harry, and report back to her about anything I hear from you. Especially you, Callum but, she didn't say why, but, don't worry I'm on your side. I promise."
"I know," I said with a nod. "Thanks for telling me." Hours later, the train pulled into the station and we returned to Hogwarts. Snow crunched under our feet as we walked through the castle and into the Great Hall.
The school felt different. Everyone looked at me differently ,and whispers traveling up and down the long tables. Something was coming.
Dumbledore stood at the center, raised his hands, and the room fell quiet. "Students and staff, I hope your winter holidays was restful. I know these past few months have been… turbulent. But this is still an institution of learning. Our duty is to guide and protect our students—even from themselves."
The hall was silent.
Dumbledore gestured beside him. "I've worked with several Ministry officials to ensure this. Allow me to introduce one of them now."
Kingsley Shacklebolt stepped forward in polished navy robes, wand holstered, presence calm and commanding.
"I am one of the acting heads of the new Ministry of Magic. Some of you may not need to worry about what that means—yet. But to clarify, the British Ministry will now be governed by a council of three. Amelia Bones is the second. We are still choosing the third."
He waved his wand, and a stack of small books floated up and distributed themselves, one landing in front of each student.
"These are the new regulations," he said firmly.
"First: The making and use of love potions is now illegal under the same category as the Unforgivable Curses. The book contains detailed explanations of why this decision was made."
Whispers immediately spread.
"Second," he continued, "students outside of Hogwarts may now use spells in self-defense. There is a new enchanted contract to sign—once signed, you will be legally protected in the event of justified spell usage. But investigations will follow. Occlumency or Veritaserum may be used to verify truth."
More whispers. Nervous ones.
"There is also a summoning ward in the back of the book. If activated, it can alert a Ministry official Aura and activate a protection charm, one created by the Dawn Family."
Several students turned and stared at me. Nikita leaned close. "I forgot. Your dad's is famous for protection magic, right?"
"Yeah," I muttered, catching Pansy Parkinson doing a sly little wave at me.
Kingsley continued.
"There will be no discrimination against werewolves, vampires, or other sentient magical beings. They are now recognized as citizens with full protections—though criminal activity will still be punished accordingly."
That sparked even louder whispers, but he didn't stop.
"Lastly, Hogwarts will begin its official exchange program. This program has existed for years but has rarely been mentioned. You may now apply to study for one semester at another wizarding school. You must meet that school's requirements and obtain written permission from a parent or guardian."
He stepped back and shook Dumbledore's hand. Then he left. The feast ended not long after, and as the students headed to their dorms, I walked toward the Slytherin Common Room with the others. People were surrounding me, asking nonstop questions.
Then Professor Snape appeared from the crowd.
"Dawn with me now." The crowd parted as I followed him. As we walked through the stone corridors, I tried asking, "How've you been, Professor?"
"No small talk," he replied. "Prepare yourself the Headmaster is waiting."
"Yes, sir." I wonder what awaits me.
We arrived at the spiraling staircase to Dumbledore's office. Waiting at the top were Professor McGonagall… and Dumbledore himself.
As I entered the Headmaster's office, Snape stepped to the side, his robes barely rustling as he moved. Dumbledore stood at the center, with Professor McGonagall just off to his right. To the far left, near the fireplace, Kingsley waited silently, arms crossed, expression unreadable.
"Good afternoon, Mr. Dawn," Dumbledore said in his usual calm voice, but his eyes were piercing. "It is good to have you back at Hogwarts especially after all that has happened. Congratulations on becoming the official heir of the Tesfaye family."
"Thank you, Professor," I replied, bowing slightly. But inside, I was on alert. I remembered that cold stare he gave me at the Ministry courtroom when the arrests began. There was something more behind his words.
Dumbledore continued. "I received a letter from Nicholas Flamel, he speaks highly of you… and says I am to give you the Philosopher's Stone he entrusted to us, no questions asked."
"I was told to expect that," I said calmly.
He looked between me and Snape. "But can you explain to me, Mr. Dawn, why Nicholas Flamel—one of the greatest alchemists in history—would entrust a precious and dangerous artifact to an eleven-year-old first-year wizard?"
"I believe the letter speaks for itself, Professor. And I have my own ways of keeping the stone safe—especially from hands that move like snakes… or wraiths."
Dumbledore's gaze sharpened just a fraction. "Oh?" he said.
I didn't flinch. I knew I'd just tipped him off I knew what Quirrell really was, and that Voldemort was attached to him.
"And how exactly will you keep it safe?" he asked.
"That's a secret," I said flatly. "Or… are you saying I can't have the stone?"
"No, that's not the case," McGonagall interjected quickly. "But we are worried for your safety."
"Thank you for your concern, Professor," I replied. "But if the school could trust a student with a time-turner to take extra classes, you can trust me to keep a stone protected."
Her eyes narrowed. "How do you know about the time-turner?"
"That's also a secret. And besides, if my mother trusts me… and if you trust her, and Mr. Flamel, then what more needs to be said?"
McGonagall gave a small sigh. "It's not a matter of trust, Mr. Dawn. You've been one of the school's brightest minds this year, and you've clearly influenced the students in meaningful ways. This just seems… dangerous."
"Dangerous like leaving Harry with his aunt and uncle, letting him suffer through years of abuse without help?"
"That wasn't my decision," McGonagall said firmly. "I know," I said. "It was Professor Dumbledore's. My parents saved him, not the system."
There was silence. Dumbledore looked at me for a long moment before finally nodding.
"Very well. You've made your point." He reached into his robe and pulled out a small, red, crystalline object—the Philosopher's Stone. Its glow pulsed faintly with power.
He handed it to me. The moment it touched my hand, it disappeared—vanishing into my hidden inventory.
McGonagall blinked. "What did you just do?"
"I placed it in another world. One only I can access," I said calmly. "No, I cannot tell you how I do it, or why."
In the back of my mind, I silently thanked the hidden inventory system again. No one else could ever reach it.
"Is that all, Professors?" I asked.
"Not quite," McGonagall said, handing me a stack of parchment. "These are your O.W.L.-level assessments. You received top scores in all classes taken this semester."
I flipped through the parchments:
– Transfiguration: Outstanding
– Charms: Outstanding
– Potions: Outstanding
– History of Magic: Outstanding
– Defense Against the Dark Arts: Outstanding
– Astronomy: Outstanding
– Herbology: Outstanding
"You did an excellent job," she said. "The semester isn't over, so finish strong."
"Yes, Professor," I said.
That was when Kingsley and Dumbledore both stepped forward.
"Now," Kingsley said, voice sharper, "let's talk about the letters you've been sending and receiving from Gellert Grindelwald."
I raised an eyebrow. "Ah. So we're bringing that up now?"
"Yes," Dumbledore said. "His most recent letter made several bold claims. Including the fact that you were in possession of his wand."
"So he told you about that."
"He did," Dumbledore said. "And he asked for a retrial. He says he wants to make up for the wrong he's done."
That surprised me he could've escaped could've run, but he stayed. "I see," I said. "Grindelwald is powerful. Intelligent. Just like you, Professor Dumbledore."
"What did you mean in the letter by , 'changing the world for the better'? And why do you need Grindelwald to do it?" Kingsley asked, stepping forward slightly, brows drawn together.
I met his gaze evenly. "Grindelwald is the kind of extremist wizarding society once needed to evolve. He just went about it the wrong way. He was blinded by ambition, by power. But I've studied him—everything I could find. I hoped prison would humble him. From the looks of it, I was right."
I raised my hand and summoned a small object from my hidden inventory. A round, flat mirror no bigger than my palm. Its cover was smooth ebony, veined with golden lines that pulsed softly with magic.
Kingsley eyed it. "What's that?"
"A communication mirror," I said. "Enchanted with the same charms I used to contact Grindelwald—and Amelia Bones. It's layered with warding inscriptions and countercurse bindings designed by my father. It's a safer and more secure method than using owls."
I held it out. "Give this to Madam Bones. Tell her I want Grindelwald released into my family's custody, under an unbreakable vow. I also want to formally recommend him for the Tri-Council."
The room went dead quiet.
McGonagall looked at me like I'd grown a second head. "You want to place a madman, someone considered to be on the same level as the Dark Lord, on the governing council?"
"There's no way," Kingsley said firmly. "The fact you're even suggesting it is, why would you pick him?"
"Because he's just as powerful and clever as Professor Dumbledore," I replied. "But unlike the Professor, Grindelwald knows how the worst of the worst think—and he's not afraid to speak bluntly or challenge the status quo. If this council wants to protect people, it needs someone willing to tear down broken systems."
Dumbledore's voice was measured but firm. "What makes you think Grindelwald can be controlled? That he isn't simply manipulating you?"
"That's what the unbreakable vow is for," I said. "And if he wanted to manipulate me, he wouldn't have revealed everything in those letters. He's asking for another trial. That alone shows intent."
I stepped forward slightly. "Consider him a proxy of the Tesfaye family. His votes, his proposals, his authority—everything would be backed by us."
Kingsley didn't answer right away. Then he nodded slowly. "That's still asking a lot for a man with his history."
"Please pass it along to Madam Bones anyway."
"…Alright. I'll deliver your message."
Dumbledore folded his hands. "That will be all, Mr. Dawn. Please keep this matter, especially the Philosopher's Stone, strictly confidential."
"Of course, Professor."
I left the office and returned to the Slytherin common room. The fire was dim, casting warm shadows over the green marble. Nyx was curled up on the couch, sleeping with her tail twitching. Next to her was Nikita, sitting cross-legged, a thick book in her lap.
"Couldn't sleep?" I asked.
She shook her head. "Not after everything that happened. The girls are still here, but they've been quiet. The rumors are true—the boys who cursed you were expelled. Their families are under investigation."
I sat beside her. "I'll get my revenge someday… but for now, I've got bigger plans."
"Like what?" she asked, eyes narrowing curiously.
I handed her a mirror identical to mine. "It's a communication device. Our group will each have one. They're private, secure, and we can send messages—or items—through them."
Her eyes widened. "This is incredible."
"I need everyone's help. I can't use my Shadow or Origin Flames for a year. I needed them to collect rare materials. Now I have to find another way."
"What materials?" Nikita asked.
"Something called a mutagen."
She blinked. "Oh, is that all?"
I stared. "What do you mean, 'is that all'? You know about mutagens?"
She laughed softly. "Yeah. My grandmother studies them."
"I thought your grandmother was a herbalist—or an alchemist?"
"She's both. And more. She blends ancient Chinese medicine, herbology, and alchemy. She's got a collection of preserved magical creature organs—including mutagens."
My eyes lit up. "Would she have one from a dragon? Or a basilisk?"
I grabbed her by the shoulders.
She shrugged. "I don't know. I'll have to ask her I will send a owl in the morning."
"No need," I said, handing her the mirror. "Use this. Just picture her face and name. It'll connect you."
She followed my instructions. The surface of the mirror shimmered, then rippled. A clear image appeared of a tanned, middle-aged Asian woman sitting at a desk surrounded by herbs and scrolls.
"Gran-Gran!" Nikita smiled.
"She can't hear you unless she has a matching mirror," I explained. "But you can send items. It's better than owls. Safer, faster."
"This is amazing, Callum."
"I know."
I grabbed a fresh piece of parchment and wrote quickly.
To Madam Ash,
I hope this letter finds you well. My name is Callum Tesfaye Dawn. I'm a friend of your granddaughter, Nikita, and I'm very interested in your work with magical creature mutagens.
I am currently researching alchemical mutations and would like to know if you possess any preserved dragon or basilisk mutagens. I would be willing to offer fair compensation—gold, materials, or knowledge—in exchange.
Enclosed are my theory notes. Your granddaughter speaks highly of you. Any feedback is greatly appreciated.
Sincerely,
Callum Tesfaye Dawn
I sealed the letter and passed it through the mirror. It disappeared into the shimmer.
Nikita looked at me. "So… what now?"
"We rest," I said. "We'll talk to the others tomorrow."
"About what?"
"About how we're going to end this year."
One month had passed since our return to Hogwarts and the quiet handoff of Flamel's Philosopher's Stone.
I'd already passed all my core subjects—Transfiguration, Potions, Charms, Defense Against the Dark Arts, and the rest. With Dumbledore's permission, I was granted a free period to focus on personal spellwork and potion development. No one questioned it .
During one of our weekend study meetings, I gathered the group, Harry, Hermione, Ron, Neville, and Draco—on the fifth floor balcony classroom I'd quietly claimed.
"You all don't need to worry about the Philosopher's Stone anymore," I said while setting up the practice dummies and shielding charms. "Let it go."
For some reason the three like in the original series still believe Snape is after the stone. I wonder if the
Ron raised an eyebrow. "That's a change from earlier this year. What happened?"
"Look, we're eleven," I said bluntly. "Well, except Nikita. But the rest of us? We need to focus on school. Not wild theories about Snape or someone stealing the stone."
Hermione frowned. "But what if Professor Snape really is trying to steal it?"
I shook my head. "He's not. Snape is one of the good guys."
"But the Quidditch match," she countered. "The broom incident—Harry's broom was cursed!"
"If Snape was cursing Harry's broom, he would've fallen and died on the spot," I said calmly. "Any halfway competent witch or wizard would've seen that someone was hexing the broom—and someone else was countering the curse. Snape was helping."
Draco nodded. "Snape's harsh, yeah—but he's fair. At least to those of us who show effort."
Nikita added, "And he's loyal to the school. You can feel it when he talks about protecting Hogwarts."
I looked at Harry. "Your dad and his friends bullied Snape when they were students. So yeah—he sees you and he sees James Potter. You were doomed from the start."
Harry looked shaken. "My dad… bullied him? I don't remember hearing about that from Sirius"
"Pain and hatred do horrible things to a kid," I said quietly. "Especially when that kid has to grow up alone. And unloved."
Hermione hesitated but then refocused. "Okay, but why are you teaching us these spells? The Patronus Charm? That's advanced magic—very advanced. And this Invisible Wall spell? I've never seen that in a single Hogwarts textbook."
"I want us to be protected," I said firmly. "You're my friends. I don't want any of us unprepared."
She crossed her arms. "Only if we drop the stone conversation, huh?"
"I already told you," I said.
Harry stood up. "No. I won't drop it."
Ron stood too. "I'm with Harry."
I stood up as well. "Harry, really?"
He looked me straight in the eye. "Snape hated my dad. He worked with the Dark Lord. Why is it so hard to believe he's helping Voldemort come back?"
I sighed and rubbed the bridge of my nose. "Harry, as your godbrother and, the strongest person in this year, I'm asking you to back down."
Harry didn't blink. "And if I say no?"
"Then we duel."
The air in the room went still. Everyone looked nervous. Draco spoke. "Harry, maybe don't—me and Nikita have seen Callum duel he's not… normal."
Harry didn't look away. "I know. But I'm not either. Your mom taught me too. I haven't been slacking, Callum. I don't want to fight you but I can't sit back while the man who killed my parent's could return."
I stared at him for a second, then nodded. "After classes. Room of Requirement."
I walked off without another word. Draco and Nikita followed me.
As we descended the stairs, Nikita leaned in. "So… any word back from Gran?"
"Yeah," she said. "She liked your theory papers. Wants to meet you personally at the end of the semester. Said she hasn't seen magical insight like yours in decades."
"Good to know," I said, then lowered my voice. "Now enough of that—back to the duel."
"You're really going to duel Harry?" she asked.
"Yes. He needs to understand the difference between standing up for what's right and rushing into something he can't handle."
Draco frowned. "But if everything Harry says is true—about someone trying to steal the stone—then what makes you so sure it's not Snape?"
I glanced back. "Because I know who is really after the stone."
Nikita's eyes narrowed. "You do?"
"Yes."
"Then why haven't you stopped them or told the professor's ?"
"Because I have a plan," I said.
"What do you mean?" Draco asked. I didn't answer. "Don't worry about it just be ready. Harry's probably the only first-year who can give me a challenge."
"That's hard to believe after what you did to the upper years," Nikita said.
"Then wait and see." That evening, we waited inside the Room of Requirement, which had transformed into a circular dueling chamber—elegant, quiet, and filled with soft torchlight. A tea set sat in the corner, steam rising from the cups.
Draco, Nikita, and I sat sipping tea when the door opened. Harry walked in first, followed by Ron and Hermione. His eyes locked on mine and the tension in the room tightened.