Chapter 2
𝐇𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐘 𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍
𝟐𝐧𝐝 𝐘𝐞𝐚𝐫
I'm Henry Anderson, a thirteen-year-old wizard enrolled at the prestigious Arcanum Academy of Mystical Arts. Students within the academy are sorted into four houses – Ignis, Aero, Terra, and Aqua – based on their unique qualities and personalities.
I'm part of Aero, known for our sharp minds and knack for solving problems. We love strategic thinking and have a deep well of wisdom. Being independent defines us; we value relying on ourselves and often explore our own magical paths.
Our house colors are an elegant combination of white and silver, setting us apart from our counterparts in Ignis with their bold gold and red, Terra with their earthy green and yellow, and Aqua, easily identified by their serene blue and white palette.
To delve further into the distinct qualities of the remaining houses, Ignis House is acknowledged for fostering individuals who are passionate, courageous, and determined. Terra, on the other hand, values patience, resilience, and nurturing characteristics. Lastly, Aqua is home to students who are recognized for their cunning, cleverness, and ambitious nature.
Arcanum Academy of Mystical Arts or AAMA is located in the Highlands of Scotland. The exact location is concealed by powerful magical enchantments, making the castle and its grounds invisible to Muggles (non-magical people). The vast and ancient castle sits atop a cliff overlooking a serene lake. The surrounding Forbidden Forest and Quidditch pitch add to the magical ambiance of the AAMA’s grounds.
Accessible primarily by magical means, such as the AAMA Express train from Platform 9¾ at King's Cross Station in London, the school is a haven for young witches and wizards to learn and master their magical abilities.
People without magical abilities are called Muggles. There are also half-blood wizards and
witches, born to magical and non-magical parents. Purebloods, like me, come from families with a long history of magical heritage.
Now, however, I find myself somewhat alone, bereft of relatives, and my grandfather mysteriously absent—his disappearance shrouded in an enigma I have yet to unravel. This unsettling incident occurred a year ago, leading the kind-hearted headmaster of the Arcanum Academy of Mystical Arts (AAMA) to offer me his care and support.
"Henry, you haven't touched your hot chocolate in a while," The timeworn voice of Headmaster Gideon Balthazar interrupted my contemplations.
I shifted my gaze towards him, finding solace in the soft smile he bestowed upon me. Headmaster Balthazar, a former Terra student turned headmaster, had a compassionate heart that prompted him to welcome me into his arms. His affinity for magical creatures endeared him to everyone within the school grounds.
"It will grow cold if you don't start drinking," he remarked sotto voce, sipping from his cup, the wrinkles etched on his face revealing the passage of time.
"Apologies, Headmaster Balthazar," I mumbled, placing the newspaper on the table before reaching for the mug of hot chocolate.
The wintry break of December eighteen had cast a chilling atmosphere over the surroundings, and while most students had reunited with their families, only a handful remained within the halls of Arcanum Academy of Mystical Arts.
"Please, I've been telling you that you can call me Gideon," Balthazar softly remarked, engrossed in the newspaper in his hands, where black and white photographs moved like living pictures—photographs possessing their kind of magic. He continued, "We are both alone, so we can talk more casually, like…… a family."
My lips tightened at his words. While I appreciated Headmaster Balthazar's kindness, I couldn't bring myself to consider him family. My sole family had been my grandfather, and he had been missing for a year with no news from the Ministry of Magic.
Balthazar must have sensed my bitterness mixed with sadness as he suggested, "How about we go to Eldertown for some shopping? Perhaps there are books you'd like to read or learn from, hm?" His tone was optimistic, an attempt to lift my spirits. He knew of my love for books since I started living with him. While we had grown relatively close, I still couldn't regard the headmaster of AAMA as family.
"Sure, that sounds nice," I replied, trying to embrace the offered distraction.
—-----------------
Eldertown was bustling with activity; it being a festive holiday, and with only seven days left until Christmas, witches and wizards of all ages filled the air with thrill and excitement. The town and shops were aglow with colorful lights, adorned with festive trees, stars, Christmas balls, and even angels. Children my age and even younger ones played in the snow, gleefully throwing snowballs. As the only child in my family, including my missing grandfather, we used to revel in outdoor play, much like those children. However, one day he stopped playing with me, immersing himself in his office until his mysterious disappearance.
"We're here, Henry," Balthazar announced as we came to a halt in front of a regular yet popular shop for magical wizards and witches, frequented by AAMA students.
Eldertown is the sole all-wizarding village in Britain and is conveniently situated near the Arcanum Academy of Mystical Arts. Serving as a getaway for Arcanum students, they are granted permission to visit the village on specific weekends.
Of course, some daredevils sneak out at night, trying not to get caught by the magical authorities.
The village boasts magical shops, inns, and various establishments, rendering it a charming and enchanting destination in the wizarding world.
We entered the bookshop named 'Quill and Quirk Books.' While it wasn't the only bookshop in town, it certainly held the title of the best. The exterior may suggest a modest size, but once inside, it revealed itself as a three-story haven for book lovers. The air was filled with the aroma of aged paper and the gentle fluttering of pages, thanks to enchanted dustpans dusting the shelves autonomously. Books floated in the air, carried by witches and wizards using their magic wands—some, I suspected, were just being lazy.
The ambiance was a blend of vintage charm and warmth, creating an oddly welcoming atmosphere. This shop never ceased to amaze me; I used to frequent it with my grandfather.
"Well, if it isn't the headmaster of Arcanum!" A burly man with a beard approached Balthazar, a huge smile on his face.
"It's nice to see you too, George," Balthazar replied, reciprocating the warm greeting with a smile as they shared a friendly hug. It was evident that they knew each other well; George was the librarian who owned the shop.
As the two older men continued their conversation, my gaze wandered around the shop. The majority of the patrons were adults, their attention was focused on browsing through books. The tips of their long robes and coats were elegantly swayed above the wooden floor as they moved from shelf to shelf, creating a rhythmic dance in the cozy book-filled space.
"Why don't you pick a book for the winter break, Henry?" Balthazar suggested, and I nodded. In the corner of my eye, I noticed George smiling at me before whispering something to Balthazar.
I shrugged off any concerns about people talking or whispering. All the wizards and witches were aware of my missing grandfather, especially the students at AAMA. It wasn't anything new.
—-----------------
Ascending to the second floor, where I often stumbled upon intriguing finds during my visits with my grandfather, I ran my fingertips along the books as I scanned their titles. It felt like both an eternity and just yesterday since I last wandered these aisles.
At the far end of an aisle, I came to a halt before a book that piqued my interest.
"Realm-hopping Revelations," I whispered under my breath.
Could it be about multiverses?
I picked up the book and gave it a quick scan. It wasn't excessively thick nor too thin.
My grandfather had a fascination with alternate universes, constantly raving about their existence and his desire to find a spell enabling witches and wizards to traverse from realm to realm.
It sounded absurd, but in our town, they didn't dub him the crazy wizard for nothing.
Well, I didn't believe him either and used to brush off his ramblings about multiverses.
But now that he was gone, the absence of his passionate musings left a void.
I missed him deeply, and holding this book felt like a way to reconnect with his presence, if only momentarily.
It was a bittersweet reminder of the times he would excitedly share his theories with me. At least with this book, it was like having a piece of him beside me—something to cling to while waiting for the Ministry of Magic to hopefully locate him.
—-----------------
"The book you chose is surely intriguing, Henry," Balthazar commented as he looked down at me while we exited the shop.
"It's just something that would remind me of him," I replied straightforwardly, my words muttered under my breath, visible in the cold air. My eyes caught sight of a grandfather and a boy chatting happily while holding hands.
"That's nice," Balthazar said softly, offering a reassuring smile. He reached for my hand and added, "Don't worry, Henry. We'll find him, okay?"
Those reassurances were all too familiar. I'd heard those words countless times, and yet there was still no news of him, no clue about his whereabouts. I was concerned, but deep down, I doubted he was dead or murdered. Despite being dubbed a crazy wizard, my grandfather was an intelligent and powerful wizard. He had to be somewhere. I hoped so.
"I know we will..." I replied with the same words, but they felt like lies as I held Balthazar’s hand.
Doubt lingered as a year passed with no sign of him.
It was becoming increasingly tempting to take matters into my own hands and embark on the search myself.