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The Heir To Magic updates every Friday. Hope you enjoy the story.

I don't own Harry Potter. All intellectual property and characters belong to JK Rowling.

~~~Synopsis~~~

A baby boy is born on the night of September 1st, 1979. A child of an ancient magical house, one that hid itself from the wizarding world. 

The family that started it all, the ones that laid the foundations of magic for all.

The story of this child is one of great adventure and sad tragedy. He's the last of his Pureblood and magic-founding family. 

This is the story of Alexander Aevum, the very last of the Aevum family.

The Heir To Magic

~~~(Location: The Chamber of Reception)~~~


We're guided into The Chamber of Reception. It's where we first-years wait before entering The Grand Hall and get sorted into our houses. 


"Red hair, dirty second-hand clothes. You're a Weasley for sure." 


My thoughts are interrupted as a conversation begins. I'd say it's about to escalate into an argument after that. I turn my head toward the doorway that leads into The Grand Hall. I can hear commotion and loud yelling from time to time.


An older witch suddenly makes herself known. She's familiar. She's the head of Gryffindor, Minerva McGonagall. She descends the staircase and clears her throat, gaining everyone's attention. 


"Welcome to Hogwarts. As first years you don't have a house yet, which is why the first thing all of you will do is be sorted into your houses."


Albus has taught me much in my time before coming here. The muggle-borns look at McGonagall in confusion, though. Waiting for a deeper explanation.


She sees the confused looks and takes another breath to continue talking. 


"The Sorting Ceremony is a long tradition here at Hogwarts. Once sorted into your house by The Sorting Hat, you'll be with that house until you graduate. They will be your family while at Hogwarts. So be mindful not to make enemies in your own house." 


That's wise advice, and I'd hope everyone listens.


 "Let's not waste any more time and proceed."


 She walks with purpose in her step, and we all follow her like chicks to a mother duck.


She waves her wand, and the massive doors to The Grand Hall open. We follow her in, and I look at the individual tables—each holding a separate house.


 There are, of course, the well-groomed and pure-blood Slytherins. After them are the Hufflepuffs. Following them are the always smart Ravenclaws. 


Finally, there are the Gryffindors. We walk down the center aisle, and I hear whispers as I pass students. 


All of them are about Harry Potter. I don't know him personally, but I've read books about how he killed Voldemort.


There is probably more to the story of such an important event. It's not like they're wrong to revere him under incomplete or false information. To the wizarding world, it was Harry who killed Voldemort. 


That will never change. I look up toward the table at the end of The Grand Hall as we continue our trek.


I see Albus patiently waiting. I look at the rest of the teachers and notice some great names in the lineup. 


Flitwick, Snape, and others. Hogwarts has serious power behind it. At the head is Albus Dumbledore, and his reputation as the greatest wizard of this time lays a foundation of confidence in everyone. 


We make it to an area in front of all the tables, and see a dirty old hat sitting on a stool. That hat is almost as old as this castle. We all take seats on some stools as different speeches are made by McGonagall.


After a minute or so, she pulls out a large piece of parchment, likely our names. I've read The Sorting Ceremony is in no particular order. We all look at the hat as it moves on the stool, and after a second.


 A really ugly mug appears, and he does his famous poem. I think it's rather catchy to be honest, for a talking hat, at least. Every one of our lives at Hogwarts is about to begin.
