Time flew, and by late July, the air in Surrey had grown thick and heavy with summer heat.
Calculated by the date, Harry's Hogwarts acceptance letter should have arrived by now. This realization had made it impossible for the boy to focus on his Potions studies. Every ten minutes or so, his eyes would drift toward the window, desperately hoping to spot an owl clutching a parchment envelope.
Seeing that Harry was a bundle of nerves, Alaric canceled his lessons for the time being.
At noon on July 24th, Harry arrived at the shop as usual. The moment he stepped through the door, he sprinted to Alaric's side.
Alaric was leisurely watering the potted plants on the shelves—a task he had found quite a lot of time for since Lupin had taken over the heavy lifting in the plantation. After months of hectic work, these quiet moments felt almost unnerving.
"Teacher!" Harry gasped, doubling over to catch his breath. "I got a letter today! An owl brought it! But my aunt took it away and ripped it into tiny pieces. I didn't even get to read a single word—it must have been the Hogwarts letter!"
Alaric set down his watering can and made a calming gesture with his hands. "Steady, Harry. Calm down. This is hardly a catastrophe."
Harry's eyes dimmed instantly. It was as if he hadn't heard a word. "Does this mean I can't go?" he asked, his face a picture of misery. "Am I stuck here?"
Seeing Harry's tragic expression, Alaric couldn't help but feel a twinge of amusement. He briefly considered teasing the boy, but quickly dismissed the thought. Giving a child a lifelong complex about their education seemed a bit much, even for him.
"Don't worry, Harry," Alaric said, taking his seat in the high-backed chair behind the counter. "Hogwarts ensures that every student receives their letter. As long as you haven't read the contents, they will keep sending them. Relentlessly."
"They'll send another?" Harry asked, looking a bit more composed.
Alaric nodded. "Undoubtedly."
Harry let out a massive sigh of relief. He had come to trust Alaric's word implicitly.
"However," Alaric added, his tone shifting, "if you are to attend Hogwarts, you technically need the consent of your guardians."
Harry's face darkened again. "They'll never give it."
Alaric leaned forward and reached out to ruffle Harry's hair, speaking with the measured weight of a mentor. "That isn't necessarily true, Harry. Trust me, they will agree. No one wants to keep someone they despise under their roof forever. You simply need to make them... dislike you more. Or, perhaps, fear you."
Harry gave a slow, thoughtful nod. Seeing the wheels turning in the boy's head, Alaric's eyes flickered with a subtle, mischievous light.
"Of course," he said, "if you find yourself at a loss for how to manage them, I am more than happy to step in. A simple flick of my wand and the matter would be resolved permanently."
"No, Teacher," Harry said, looking hesitant. "Isn't it illegal to use magic in front of Muggles?"
It was Alaric's turn to look surprised. "I don't recall teaching you that particular bit of bureaucracy. Who told you that you couldn't use magic in front of Muggles?"
"Mr. Lupin," Harry said, looking up nervously. "He said the Ministry keeps track of those things, like the police. But don't worry—I didn't tell him you used magic on my aunt before."
Alaric gave a dismissive wave and placed a finger to his lips.
"Shh—" Alaric offered a conspiratorial smile. "No one else needs to know, do they?"
Alaric was not one of those wizards who followed the Ministry's decrees to the letter. If a problem could be solved with a well-placed charm, why bother with the long way around?
Harry relaxed at Alaric's attitude. "I'll get the letter," he promised.
Over the next few days, Harry didn't show his face at the shop. Lupin, noticing the boy's absence, began to grow uneasy. While Harry had never been a fan of Potions, he was remarkably consistent. Vanishing for days was out of character.
"Aren't you worried?" Lupin asked Alaric, who was currently occupied with a simmering cauldron on the shop's back counter. "Harry hasn't been here in nearly a week."
"I imagine he's been cornered by his aunt and uncle," Alaric replied, his focus entirely on his work. "If you're truly concerned, you could go check on him. Though, I suspect you wouldn't find the Dursleys to be particularly charming company."
Lupin watched Alaric stir the thick, bubbling liquid and felt a surge of irritability. "What are you brewing, anyway?"
"A secret," Alaric said without looking up. "It's a birthday gift for Harry."
Lupin blinked, clearly having lost track of the date. "A birthday gift? When is Harry's birthday?"
In truth, the exact date had escaped him amidst the chaos of the plantation. Alaric glanced at a calendar on the wall, noting a specific date circled in red ink. "If my memory serves, it's today."
"Today?" Lupin blurted out. He looked at the calendar, and sure enough, the date was marked. "Why didn't Harry tell me?"
Alaric spared him a brief, dry look. "Perhaps... because he likes me better?"
Lupin gave a strained laugh. "I'd have to disagree with you there."
For most wizards, an eleventh birthday was a milestone—the point at which their magic was considered mature enough for formal training. Alaric had no intention of letting the day pass without a proper gesture.
"Er... is it too late for me to get him something?" Lupin asked.
Alaric smiled as he added the final ingredient to his cauldron, then glanced toward the front window. "I suspect it's a bit late for shopping," Alaric noted. "Unless you have a Time-Turner tucked away in those robes."
Lupin followed Alaric's gaze. Two figures—one small and familiar, the other massive—were walking toward the shop.
Alaric had just finished clearing his workspace when the shop bell chimed with a frantic jangle. Seconds later, the door was thrown open and Harry sprinted inside, his face alight with an uncontrollable joy.
"Teacher! I got it! I actually got it!" He was panting, thrusting a parchment envelope toward Alaric. The heavy Hogwarts crest was clearly visible on the seal.
Alaric offered a warm smile. "Congratulations, Harry."
He reached out to take the letter, but a loud, muffled thump at the entrance distracted him.
A giant of a man was currently trying to squeeze through the doorway. He ducked his head to clear the frame but still managed to crack it against the wood.
"Ouch..." The giant turned, rubbing his head, before his eyes swept the shop. "Anyone in? Harry said... blimey! Professor Thorn? And... Remus?"
Hagrid froze in the doorway, his eyes darting between the two men in utter shock.