October faded into November, and Hogwarts settled into its winter rhythm. The amber leaves that had carpeted the grounds in September were long gone, replaced by frost that crunched beneath students' boots. The lake grew darker, more opaque, and the Forbidden Forest became a wall of black against the grey horizon. Inside the castle, the fires burned higher, the torches burned brighter, and the students moved faster between classes, their breath misting in the cold corridors.
Edmund had been at Hogwarts for two months. Two months of early mornings in the library, of careful note-taking in every class, of watching and listening and learning the unwritten rules of Slytherin house. He had made progress—the system's numbers told him so—but he was not where he wanted to be.
**Progress – End of October**
Charms: Novice (34%)
Transfiguration: Novice (22%)
Potions: Novice (28%)
Defence Against the Dark Arts: Novice (16%)
Herbology: Novice (14%)
History of Magic: Novice (10%)
Astronomy: Novice (12%)
**XP:** 228 / 250
He was close to Level 3. Close, but not there.
---
The study sessions with his friends had become a regular part of his week. Arthur came down from Gryffindor Tower on Tuesday and Thursday evenings, and they found an empty classroom on the third floor where they could practice spells without interruption. Cassius joined them sometimes, and Horace, and even Astrid—though she usually sat in the corner with her book, offering the occasional sharp observation.
"You're holding your wand too high," she said one evening, watching Edmund practice the Levitation Charm on a feather. "The movement should come from the wrist, not the shoulder."
Edmund adjusted his grip. The feather rose smoothly and hovered in the air.
"Better," Astrid said, and went back to her book.
Arthur grinned. "She's like that with everyone. Don't take it personally."
Edmund didn't. Astrid's criticism was always accurate, and accuracy was more valuable than kindness.
---
Professor Merrythought's Defence Against the Dark Arts class was Edmund's favorite. Not because he was particularly good at it—his Shield Charm still flickered, and his Knockback Jinx was inconsistent—but because Merrythought taught with a passion that made the subject come alive.
"Dark magic is not a different kind of magic," she said one afternoon, pacing before the blackboard. "It is the same magic, twisted by intent. A Cutting Curse and a surgical charm are nearly identical in their mechanics. The difference is what you mean when you cast them."
She stopped and looked at the class. "Intent is everything. You can cast the same spell a hundred times and get a hundred different results, depending on what you're feeling. That is why Defence is not just about learning the right wand movements. It is about understanding yourself."
Edmund wrote that down. *Intent is everything.*
After class, Merrythought called him to her desk.
"Your Shield Charm is improving," she said. "But you're still hesitating. Why?"
Edmund thought about it. "I'm afraid of getting it wrong."
"Good." She nodded. "Fear is not the enemy. Hesitation is. Trust yourself, Mr. Prince. You've done the work. Now let the magic follow."
---
The first Quidditch match of the season was in November, Slytherin against Gryffindor. The common room buzzed with excitement for days before. Cassius, who had tried out for the team and made it as a reserve, was pacing with the energy of a caged animal.
"We're going to destroy them," he said. "The Gryffindor seeker is a third year who's never caught a snitch in his life."
Horace, who was trying to study for a Potions quiz, looked up from his books. "And you're a reserve who's never played in an official match."
"I will play. I can feel it."
The match was close. Slytherin led for most of the game, but Gryffindor fought back. Cassius didn't play—the starting beaters held their positions—but he cheered until his voice was hoarse. In the end, the Slytherin seeker caught the snitch, and the common room erupted.
Edmund watched Cassius celebrate with his teammates and felt a pang of something he couldn't name. Not envy, exactly. Recognition. Cassius had found something he loved, something he was good at. Edmund was still searching.
---
The day before the holiday break, Edmund achieved Level 3.
He was in the library, reading ahead in his Potions textbook, when the system chimed.
**Level Up!**
**Level:** 3
**XP:** 12 / 400
**New Skill Unlocked: Potions (Intermediate)**
**New Skill Unlocked: Charms (Intermediate)**
**Daily Task Rewards Increased**
He sat back in his chair, staring at the interface. Level 3. It wasn't much—he was still at the bottom of the magical ladder—but it was proof that he was moving. The system had given him a roadmap, and he was following it.
He closed the interface and returned to his book. There was still so much to learn.
---
The holiday break was quiet. Most of the Slytherin first years went home, but Edmund stayed. The Prince manor was cold and empty, and Mrs. Larch had written to say she would be spending the holidays with her sister in Edinburgh. Hogwarts was warmer, and the library was open.
He spent the break reading. Not textbooks, this time, but books from the Restricted Section—Professor Marchbanks had given him a pass, impressed by his progress. He read about the Founders, about the early history of Hogwarts, about the wars that had shaped the wizarding world. He read about Grindelwald, who was still a young man in Europe, gathering followers, building power. He read about the International Statute of Secrecy, about the goblin rebellions, about the families that had risen and fallen over the centuries.
And he read about the Book of Admittance.
The Restricted Section had texts that weren't available in the main library—old journals, unpublished manuscripts, transcripts of Wizengamot hearings. Edmund found a reference to a case in 1789, where a family had sued Hogwarts for refusing to admit their daughter. The case was dismissed. The Book, the Wizengamot ruled, was infallible.
But the dissenting opinion, written by a witch named Euphemia Potter, argued that the Book was not infallible—it was simply old, and no one understood how it worked.
*The Book writes names according to criteria that have never been fully explained,* she wrote. *It favors old families and strong magic. Children who are quiet, or whose magic is subtle, are often overlooked. This is not divine judgment. It is a flaw in the enchantment.*
Edmund copied the passage into his journal. Another piece of the puzzle.
---
**System Notification: Research Progress**
*Book of Admittance research: 92% complete.*
*New information acquired: The Book's criteria favor old families and strong magic. The enchantment is flawed, not infallible.*
*Task: Identify the source of the Book's enchantment (0/1)*
He frowned. The source of the Book's enchantment. That was the real question, wasn't it? Who had made the Book? The Founders? Someone else? And why had they designed it to favor certain children over others?
He added it to his list of questions. He would find the answers. He had time.
---
The day before term resumed, Edmund received a letter from Mr. Thornbury.
*Dear Mr. Prince,*
*I hope your first term at Hogwarts has been successful. I am writing to inform you that the restoration of the Prince manor's east wing has been completed, as per your instructions. The cost was within the budget you approved.*
*Additionally, I have received inquiries from several families—the Greengrasses, the Potters, and the Weasleys—regarding your holiday plans. They wish to invite you to visit during the summer. I have taken the liberty of declining on your behalf, but I can arrange meetings if you wish.*
*Please let me know your preferences.*
*Yours,*
*Elias Thornbury*
Edmund read the letter twice. The Greengrasses, the Potters, the Weasleys. Old families, old alliances. He had not expected them to reach out so soon.
He wrote back: *Arrange the meetings. I will attend.*
---
The second term began with snow.
The grounds were white, the lake frozen, the Forbidden Forest a wall of black against the grey sky. Edmund returned to his routine—early mornings in the library, classes all day, study sessions in the evenings. He was not the best in his year, but he was no longer struggling to keep up. The spells that had required hours of practice in September now came after three or four attempts. The potions that had boiled over or turned the wrong color now brewed correctly more often than not.
The system tracked his progress with quiet patience.
**Progress – End of January**
Charms: Novice (42%)
Transfiguration: Novice (34%)
Potions: Novice (38%)
Defence Against the Dark Arts: Novice (24%)
Herbology: Novice (20%)
History of Magic: Novice (15%)
Astronomy: Novice (18%)
**XP:** 156 / 400
He was on track. The roadmap was holding. And somewhere in the back of his mind, a voice—the system's voice, or his own—whispered that he was ready for more.
He agreed.
---