Chapter 11

"I won't accept this, Arthur," Marilyn declared, her voice firm as her gaze shifted between her ex-husband and their son. Her eyes flicked up to Nicholas, who was soaring gracefully through the air on his broomstick, a bright smile on his face. Despite his obvious joy, worry etched itself onto Marilyn's features. "This is too dangerous. His future can't be just this—flying around on brooms and practicing magic. Have you ever asked him what he truly wants?"

Arthur remained silent, watching as Marilyn's frustration boiled over. Her voice wavered between anger and helplessness, and eventually softened into quiet resolve. "He wanted to be a star, Arthur," she whispered, her words barely holding back her emotion. "He was meant to be in the spotlight, not hidden away in some magical world."

"Marilyn," Arthur began, his voice low but steady, "can't you see? This is his choice. Look at him." He gestured towards Nicholas, who was now performing an elegant dive, effortlessly pulling back into the air. "He's happy." Arthur hesitated, knowing full well what loomed in the background. "My father wouldn't—" He stopped, the unspoken truth weighing down his words. His father, Godfrey, would never allow Nicholas to walk away from this legacy, no matter what path the boy truly desired.

Marilyn's eyes followed his gaze to the veranda, where Godfrey sat, calmly sipping his tea beside Cressida Blume. The old man's presence was an ever-watchful shadow over their lives. "Then I'll talk to him myself," she insisted, her resolve hardening as she prepared to approach.

Arthur reached out, gently resting his hand on hers, a rare moment of familiarity between them that surprised them both. Marilyn pulled back reflexively, and Arthur cleared his throat, awkwardly regaining his composure. "That's not wise," he said quietly. "You know how Father is. We can't risk angering him. Instead, let's ask Nicholas—he's old enough to decide for himself. If he wishes to leave this magical world behind, I'll stand by your side and help convince my father. But we have to let him choose."

Marilyn's eyes softened, searching Arthur's for sincerity. She held his gaze, and for a brief moment, the years of distance and heartache seemed to fade away. "Thank you," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. She turned back to Nicholas, who had just landed gracefully, his broom in hand and a wide grin on his face.

"Nico, come here," Marilyn called, her voice tender yet edged with concern.

Nicholas bounded over, beaming from ear to ear. The joy of flying, coupled with the sight of his parents standing together, made his heart soar higher than any broom ever could. "Mum! Dad! Did you see me up there?" he exclaimed, his voice brimming with pride. "I flew so well—did you see how fast I was?"

Marilyn knelt down, her gaze locking with Nicholas's, her expression shifting from concern to deep seriousness. "Yes, sweetheart, I saw," she began softly. Her voice, however, wavered as her worry grew more evident. "But don't you think it's a bit... dangerous? What if something went wrong? What if you slipped, or lost control?" Her maternal instinct now fully surfaced, tightening the tone in her words.

Nicholas's earlier enthusiasm faltered, the joy of flying quickly dimming under the weight of his mother's concern. "But I love flying, Mum," he mumbled, his voice slipping into a sullen tone. "It's not dangerous. It's... it's freedom. You don't understand." His eyes dropped to the ground, not wanting to meet her gaze, which he knew was full of worry and love.

"I may not understand everything about this world, Nicholas Gryff," Marilyn's voice rose slightly, her frustration clear as she spoke his full name, adding weight to her words. "But I am your mother, and your safety is my first and foremost concern." Her eyes narrowed for a brief moment, and an uncomfortable silence settled between them. But then, her shoulders relaxed, and with a deep sigh, she pulled him into a tight embrace. Her voice, now softer and trembling, reached his ears in a whisper. "Everything... it all just came as such a shock to me, Nico. I'm still trying to process all that you've told me, everything you've shown me today. If this is what you truly want—if being part of this world makes you happy—then who am I to stand in the way of my son's dreams?"

Tears welled up in her eyes, but Marilyn suppressed them, not wanting to show her vulnerability just yet. She held him close, her emotions a storm beneath the surface—fear for his safety, pride in his courage, and a deep sadness for the life they had once envisioned together.

"Mum..." Nicholas whispered, his voice now soft with guilt. He wrapped his arms tightly around her, feeling the depth of her love and realizing how much this sudden revelation must have hurt her. She had only just found out about this hidden world today—a world that existed in parallel to the one she knew, yet so far removed from the life they had built. He knew that giving up his acting career was not just his decision, it was a shared dream they once had. They had mapped out his path to stardom together, a future filled with bright lights and red carpets. Now, everything had shifted, and she was left to make sense of this new reality.

"Do not worry, Mum," Nicholas continued, trying to reassure her. "I love being a wizard, though I've only just begun to learn what that truly means. There's still so much I don't know. I'm not even that good at casting spells yet," he admitted with a shy smile. "But Grandfather says I have potential, and I've been learning about more than just magic. They've been teaching me about the history of wizards and our family's place in it all. The traditions, the etiquette—it's all very... grand."

Marilyn listened, still holding him close, her mind racing. Her son had not just been learning magic—he was being immersed in a world filled with age-old customs, responsibilities, and expectations. It was more than she ever imagined, more than she ever wanted for him. But his voice, the excitement in his tone, told her that this world was where he truly belonged. "I can see you've grown, Nico," she said softly, pulling back just enough to look at him. "But promise me one thing... that you'll always stay true to yourself. No matter how much this world expects of you, never forget who you are—my son, with dreams of your own."

Marilyn tilted her head slightly as she gazed at Nicholas, a warm smile curling on her lips. "This robe, darling, it's practically swallowing you," she teased softly, her hands moving with graceful precision to brush the specks of dust off the dark fabric. Her fingers smoothed out the creases with the gentle care of someone used to perfection, a woman who had once dressed for red carpets, now fussing over her son's school robes as though it were the finest silk. "We really ought to do something about this," she mused, "Why don't we go out? Mother will buy you whatever you wish. Something more fitting for a young Gryff heir."

Nicholas's face brightened instantly, his earlier frustration melting away as quickly as it had come. It wasn't often they had moments like this anymore—just him and his mother. He missed the days when their outings were frequent, filled with laughter and stories of the future they were building together. "Really, Mum?" he asked, barely containing his excitement. His eyes sparkled with hope, and then, almost hesitantly, he turned toward his father, who stood quietly observing the scene. "Can Dad come too?" The question was innocent enough on the surface, but beneath it lay a subtle motive. Nicholas, though young, had an instinctive understanding of the tension between his parents, and this, he thought, could be the perfect opportunity to bring them closer—at least for a day.

Arthur, who had remained silent, shifted his stance, trying to maintain an air of indifference. He was a man accustomed to hiding his emotions behind a well-practiced mask of stoicism, but Nicholas's question caught him off guard. His son's innocent manipulation was as clear as day, but Arthur found he couldn't fault him for it. In truth, he wanted to say yes. He wanted nothing more than to spend the day with both Marilyn and their son, even if the relationship between him and Marilyn had grown awkward over the years. He cleared his throat, attempting to sound casual. "If your mother doesn't object..." he began, glancing at Marilyn with an almost imperceptible flicker of hope in his eyes. He quickly corrected himself, adopting a more composed tone. "I suppose it wouldn't hurt to join you both."

Marilyn's expression softened, though she maintained her graceful composure. She studied Arthur for a moment, weighing the decision carefully. It had been a long time since they had done anything like this as a family, and though the thought stirred a familiar discomfort in her, she couldn't deny that Nicholas deserved this. "I don't mind," she replied quietly, almost to herself. Then, a little louder and with more resolve, she added, "It will be... nice. For all of us."

Nicholas's grin widened, a look of triumph flashing across his face. His plan was working, and the prospect of spending time together as a family filled him with excitement. He dashed off to gather his things, leaving his parents standing there in a silence that felt both heavy and fragile.

Mark, lounging nearby with an air of detached amusement, had been observing the exchange with a smirk. "Well, it looks like the three of you have plans," he remarked, his voice dripping with playful sarcasm. He stretched his arms dramatically as though the idea of a family outing was exhausting just to think about. "As much as I would love to tag along and witness this reunion, I think I'll leave the bonding to you. It's your family time, after all."

Arthur chuckled lightly, though it sounded more like a sigh of relief. "Very gracious of you, Mark," he replied dryly. He appreciated his cousin's decision to step aside—this wasn't the time for playful banter or an additional presence. They needed this time together, awkward or not.

Before long, they were all making their way toward the car. Arthur's black sedan gleamed in the midday sun, a vehicle that, much like its owner, exuded understated luxury. As they approached, Arthur motioned for Jenkins, his loyal chauffeur, but then, in a rare gesture of spontaneity, he waved the man off. "Jenkins, you can take the rest of the day for yourself. Spend some time at the servants' manor."

Jenkins blinked in surprise, unused to being dismissed so suddenly, but he nodded with a polite smile. "Very well, sir. Thank you," he replied before retreating to the estate. Arthur opened the driver's door, slipping into the seat with an ease that felt oddly unfamiliar after years of having someone else drive. The smell of polished leather and the soft hum of the engine felt grounding, a small sense of control in a day filled with uncertainty.

As the car pulled out of the long, winding driveway, the scenery around them shifted from the vast, well-manicured grounds of the Gryff manor to the open countryside in just an hour. The rolling fields of green stretched endlessly under the summer sun, the sky above a vast canvas of deep blue with only the occasional cloud drifting lazily overhead. A gentle breeze carried the scent of wildflowers through the open windows, and for a brief moment, it felt like they were all caught in a peaceful, timeless bubble.

Marilyn sat beside Arthur, her hands resting on her lap, fingers delicately intertwined. She gazed out the window, her expression distant but serene. "Surrey," she said softly, almost to herself, "I haven't been here in years." Her eyes softened as memories of their past drifted through her mind, back when their lives were simpler, before the distance grew between them. "We used to visit London all the time," she continued, her voice filled with a quiet nostalgia. "But Surrey... it's quieter. A nice change."

Arthur kept his eyes on the road, though her words tugged at something deep within him. "With how well-received your movie was last month, I thought you'd prefer something less... chaotic," he replied evenly. He wasn't sure how to navigate these conversations anymore, each word feeling like it could tip the balance between awkwardness and something more fragile. "Besides, it's not often we do this. A new place seemed fitting."

The rest of the journey was filled with a comfortable, if somewhat strained, silence. The car glided down the winding roads, passing through quaint little villages and open fields, the golden hues of summer casting everything in a warm glow. Nicholas, seated in the back, watched the world go by, content to let his parents share this quiet moment together.

Their first stop was a charming boutique nestled in the heart of Surrey's town center. The storefront was adorned with ivy, and its windows displayed an elegant mix of traditional British tux and summer fashions. Marilyn led Nicholas inside, her posture straight, her steps graceful as ever. 

Marilyn moved gracefully through the shop, her steps light but deliberate, as though each movement were part of a carefully choreographed dance. Her eyes, sharp and discerning, roamed over the displays of summer clothing with the same meticulous attention she had once reserved for high fashion. She paused at a rack of finely tailored garments, her fingers brushing over the soft linen shirts and lightweight trousers. "You've grown so much, darling," she said thoughtfully, holding up a pale blue shirt against Nicholas. The color was bright, the fabric airy—perfect for the warm months ahead. "This will suit you well for the summer," she mused, "and we'll get you out of those... loose robes." She shot him a playful smile, referencing the wizarding attire that had overwhelmed his small frame earlier.

Nicholas nodded enthusiastically, already imagining how much more comfortable the lighter clothing would feel compared to the thick robes. He ran his fingers over the silver embroidery of a pair of green shorts his mother held up, admiring the delicate craftsmanship. It was a far cry from the wizarding robes he had donned earlier, but he didn't mind. "I better change into this now. I keep getting strange gazes with this robe on," he said, grinning.

Arthur, standing a little further back, observed the scene quietly. His expression remained composed, but his heart softened as he watched Marilyn fuss over their son. It had been years since he'd seen her like this—her elegance mixed with maternal tenderness. Despite everything that had passed between them, he could still see the woman he had fallen in love with, the woman who had once shared his hopes and dreams. For a fleeting moment, he allowed himself to remember those days, before the distance had grown between them. His eyes lingered on her, the way she adjusted Nicholas's collar, her gentle smile, and the way she seemed to take pleasure in these simple moments. It stirred something deep within him, a feeling he thought he had buried long ago.

After their shopping excursion, as they walked back toward the car, Nicholas couldn't stop beaming, his excitement palpable. His arms were filled with bags containing the latest additions to his summer wardrobe—light shirts, smart trousers, and even a pair of shoes that Marilyn insisted would make him look "every bit the young gentleman." It was clear she took pride in every detail, as if curating these pieces for her son was a way of holding on to the world she once knew—a world where appearances mattered, and elegance was everything.

As they loaded the last of the shopping bags into the trunk, Marilyn lingered for a moment, her gaze drifting toward the edge of the park where a line of trees framed the quiet street. The leaves rustled gently in the summer breeze, casting dappled shadows on the pavement. Her thoughts, however, were far removed from the present. She could almost picture herself and Arthur, walking hand in hand down these same streets, once carefree and blissfully unaware of the complexities that lay ahead. Those memories felt like a lifetime ago, and while the tension between them had softened, the awkwardness still remained—a palpable presence that neither could fully shake. But for Nicholas's sake, they were both making the effort, even if it meant putting aside their own unresolved feelings for now.

Clearing her throat lightly, Marilyn turned her attention back to Nicholas, a soft smile playing on her lips as she placed a hand on his shoulder. "Nico, my darling, how would you feel about a visit to the zoo this afternoon? It's not far, and we still have plenty of daylight left to enjoy," she suggested, her tone bright and encouraging, though a trace of wistfulness lingered in her voice.

Nicholas's eyes lit up instantly, his earlier excitement from their shopping trip now replaced with a newfound eagerness. "The zoo? That would be brilliant, Mum!" he exclaimed, his enthusiasm contagious. His face brightened even more as a memory seemed to surface. "Last time, when Grandfather and Uncle Mark took me to the Quidditch World Cup, we saw loads of magical creatures in cages. They were incredible!" His voice bubbled with excitement as he recounted the trip.

Marilyn's brows arched with intrigue, her curiosity piqued. "Oh? And what sort of creatures did you see, my dear?" she asked, her voice gently coaxing more details from him. Her eyes sparkled with interest, though she remained composed, adopting the same measured grace that she had perfected over years in the public eye. Arthur, though standing slightly apart, seemed to subtly shift his posture, his attention clearly drawn to Nicholas's story despite the reserved expression he maintained. Though he tried to remain detached, there was a quiet fondness in the way his gaze occasionally flickered toward his son.

Nicholas's eyes twinkled as he eagerly began recounting the magical creatures he had encountered. "There was the Fire Crab," he started, his tone enthusiastic. "It's this large, turtle-like creature with a thick, jewel-encrusted shell that actually reflects the light—almost like diamonds, Mum. But it's not just for show," he added, his voice dropping slightly as if sharing a secret. "It can shoot flames from its rear end when it feels threatened! George said wizards often use the shells to make cauldrons because they're heat-resistant. Imagine that!"

Marilyn chuckled softly, clearly entertained by her son's description. "A crab that shoots fire from its... rear end? That does sound rather... flamboyant," she remarked with a teasing glint in her eyes. "Though, I do hope they weren't setting the place alight!"

"Oh no, they kept it contained," Nicholas assured her quickly, his hands gesturing animatedly as he continued. "Then there was the Frost Salamander—it was amazing, Mum! It's this long, sleek creature, pure white, like freshly fallen snow. And it exudes cold so powerful that the air around it was frosty! Its scales glittered like ice crystals, and you could feel the chill even from a distance. They thrive in cold climates and are often kept by wizards in the far north for their magical properties."

Arthur's brows furrowed slightly, his interest now more apparent as he listened. He could vaguely recall the creatures in the books he read when he was still a child, back in those days when he thought that he had magic too. The fact that Nicholas had seen one at such a young age was notable and a flicker of desire to see them as well grew in him. He nodded thoughtfully but refrained from commenting, instead letting his son's enthusiasm fill the air between them.

Nicholas's expression turned slightly more disdainful as he recalled the next creature. "And then there was the Giant Purple Toad," he continued, wrinkling his nose in mild disgust. "I didn't like it at all. It was massive, Mum—bigger than a barrel, with this horrible slimy skin that was a dull, sickly purple. It had these large, bulging eyes that followed you wherever you went, and—get this—it's covered in warts that are said to be extremely contagious. George warned me to keep my distance, and I was more than happy to oblige!" He shuddered slightly at the memory, clearly less impressed by the amphibian than by the other creatures.

Marilyn couldn't help but laugh at his reaction, though she tried to hide her amusement behind a delicate hand. "Well, I daresay that doesn't sound like the most charming of creatures," she teased lightly. "But I'm sure it has its... uses, unpleasant as it may be."

Nicholas nodded emphatically. "It's used in potions, apparently. The warts have magical properties, but I'd much rather not touch one," he declared with a shiver, causing both his parents to exchange an amused glance.

Arthur, finally breaking his silence, cleared his throat. "It seems you've had quite the education in magical creatures, Nico," he commented, his voice steady and measured as usual, but there was a glimmer of approval in his eyes. "Perhaps a visit to the zoo will seem rather... tame in comparison, but I'm sure you'll find something to enjoy." His attempt at engaging was subtle but genuine, and Nicholas beamed at the rare moment of shared conversation with his father.

"I've missed going to the zoo with Mum back in the States, Dad," Nicholas responded, his voice light and brimming with anticipation. "But I'm even more excited now that the three of us are going together."

"Do you remember where the zoo is, Marilyn?" Arthur asked, his voice betraying a slight embarrassment. It had been far too long since he'd wandered these streets with any sense of familiarity, and he found himself grappling with the realization that even the local landmarks had become unfamiliar to him.

Marilyn smiled faintly, shaking her head. "I'm afraid I've forgotten as well," she admitted, her tone light but holding a similar recognition that time had distanced them both from places they once knew.

"I'll go ask for directions," Arthur offered, glancing around the street. "Wait here for just a moment." With a nod, he strode off toward two passersby—an elderly couple walking arm in arm. From a distance, Nicholas watched as Arthur exchanged words with the couple. The man and woman, clearly recognizing Arthur, seemed enthusiastic in their conversation. Their faces lit up as they chatted, and after a few moments, they waved warmly in Marilyn and Nicholas's direction before continuing on their way.

When Arthur returned, his demeanor remained composed, though there was a slight lift to his brow, as though amused by the brief encounter. "It's not far," he said, turning to Marilyn and Nicholas. "Would you both be all right with walking? It's just a short distance from here."

"I don't mind at all," Nicholas responded brightly, his eyes turning toward his mother. "What about you, Mum?"

Marilyn gave a small nod, a soft smile playing on her lips. "A little walk won't hurt," she replied, her voice smooth, though beneath the surface, the memories of walking these streets long ago—when their family was whole—tugged at her. She brushed the thought aside, focusing instead on Nicholas's radiant enthusiasm.

Without hesitation, Nicholas slipped his left hand into his mother's arm and clasped his father's arm with his right. Arthur and Marilyn, both taken aback by the unexpected gesture, exchanged quick, startled glances before settling into the moment. Neither of them said a word, but there was a shared understanding in their silent acceptance of Nicholas's affectionate hold.

As the three began their walk, Nicholas led them gently down the path, with Arthur offering quiet directions to guide them. The streets bustled around them, filled with the ordinary sounds of human life—cars humming in the distance, pedestrians strolling leisurely, and the occasional bark of a dog echoing through the air. The summer sun was soft but warm, casting a golden hue across the pavement as the trio moved at an unhurried pace.

Arthur, typically a man of few words, found himself stealing glances at Marilyn as they walked. Her presence, while familiar, felt distant, as though time had created a barrier between them. Yet, there was something unmistakably comforting about having her close again, even if the awkwardness still lingered. He couldn't deny the traces of affection that surfaced, buried beneath years of estrangement. For Nicholas's sake, he told himself, they could pretend—if only for the day.

Marilyn, too, found herself caught in a swirl of emotions. Walking with Arthur at her side felt both strange and nostalgic, and while she had steeled herself for these moments, Nicholas's innocent gesture had softened her resolve. The tension between them remained, but there were glimmers of their past—moments when they had been happy, in love, and ready to take on the world together. Now, it seemed like a different lifetime. Still, for Nicholas, she could try.

As they continued down the street, Nicholas filled the silence with stories about his magical experiences, his voice bubbling with excitement as he recounted whatever he had seen at the World Cup. Both Arthur and Marilyn listened, their silent connection strengthened by the shared pride they felt for their son. Yet, beneath that pride was the unspoken acknowledgment that they had both missed so much of each other's lives.

"It's a strange feeling, isn't it?" Marilyn spoke softly, breaking the silence. Her voice had a warmth to it, one that instantly caught the attention of both Arthur and Nicholas. She tilted her head slightly as she looked at Arthur, a rare softness in her eyes. "To feel so... unimportant for once. No glaring camera lights, no reporters hounding our every move, just the.... three of us, together." Her words carried a quiet wistfulness as if she were savoring this brief escape from the world of fame and glamour that often dictated their lives.

Arthur gave her a small smile, one that didn't reach his eyes but held a certain understanding. "You're right," he said, his voice low and steady. His gaze lingered on her for a moment longer before turning to Nicholas. "But before we lose ourselves in sentiment, we should probably get our tickets. The crowds are only getting larger."

Marilyn nodded in agreement, and the three of them made their way toward the ticket booth. As more families poured into the zoo, the line was steadily growing, and Arthur hastened their pace to avoid the impending wait. Nicholas could hardly contain his excitement, his eyes darting around at the sights and sounds of the zoo as they queued up. The bustling atmosphere was infectious, and soon enough, tickets in hand, they moved past the gates and into the heart of the zoo.

Not long after entering, a loud, commanding voice echoed across the exhibit near them. "Oh boy, oh boy! Look at that snake, make it move!" A large boy, around Nicholas's age, was shouting at a snake inside a glass enclosure. His voice carried through the air, loud enough to draw the attention of several nearby visitors, including Nicholas and his parents. The boy, who was clearly enjoying himself, was accompanied by a man and a woman who seemed unbothered by his behavior. Standing a little to the side was another boy, smaller and thinner, with messy black hair and glasses. He seemed quiet and almost out of place in the lively scene, observing rather than participating.

Marilyn's gaze lingered on the boisterous boy for a moment before she made a small, disapproving sound. "What a rowdy child," she commented, her refined tone carrying the faintest hint of disdain. She glanced at Nicholas, her expression softening. "I hope you'll never behave like that, Nico."

Nicholas chuckled softly, shaking his head. "I wouldn't dream of it, Mum."

Arthur, who had been watching the scene as well, simply nodded. His gaze, however, briefly shifted to the quieter boy with the glasses, a curious look crossing his face before he turned his attention back to his family. "Let's move on. We've got an entire zoo to explore," he said, his voice calm but tinged with a hint of amusement.

Arthur, who had been observing the scene with the practiced calm of a man who often kept his emotions in check, gave a slight nod, his expression unreadable. His attention briefly flicked to the quiet boy with glasses standing by the snake enclosure, and for a moment, something like recognition flickered in his eyes. But he quickly averted his gaze, choosing instead to refocus on his family. "Come along now. There's much more of the zoo to explore, and I dare say we've only scratched the surface," he said, his voice carrying a note of amusement, though tempered with the restraint that always seemed to define him.

They moved further into the zoo, arriving at an exhibit where a small salamander lounged lazily on a rock inside its glass enclosure. Its scales glimmered faintly in the sunlight, and its beady eyes seemed to follow the family's movements. It tilted its head as if acknowledging their presence, though it did so with a lazy indifference that suggested it had seen many curious onlookers before.

Marilyn smiled at the creature with a polite interest, though her mind seemed elsewhere. Arthur studied the salamander with quiet fascination. Yet it was Nicholas who seemed least intrigued by the creature before them. His attention had drifted back to the boy with glasses, who still stood in front of the snake enclosure from earlier. There was something peculiar about the way the boy seemed to be quietly speaking to the snake behind the glass. Nicholas squinted, watching closely, and his heart skipped a beat as he realized the snake was responding—its head bobbing gently with each word the boy spoke, as if understanding him.

"Amazing," Nicholas murmured to himself, his voice filled with awe. There was a certain magic in the air, and not just the kind he was used to.

Suddenly, the large boy who had been shouting earlier came stomping back to the snake enclosure. Without warning, he shoved the smaller boy with glasses to the ground, sending him sprawling across the pavement. Nicholas instinctively stepped forward, ready to intervene, but hesitated, his feet rooted to the spot. He wasn't sure what to do—it wasn't his place to step into a family quarrel, and they certainly looked like they could be brothers, or perhaps cousins.

But then, something extraordinary happened.

The glass wall of the enclosure vanished, disappearing in an instant, as if it had never been there. The large boy, caught completely off guard, tumbled forward and fell into the pool of water inside the exhibit, his limbs flailing as he struggled to regain his balance. The snake, sensing its newfound freedom, slithered out of the enclosure, its long body coiling gracefully as it moved past the shocked onlookers. Screams erupted all around the zoo as panic spread like wildfire, families scrambling to pull their children away from the escaped serpent.

Arthur stepped forward instinctively. He moved with a subtle grace, positioning himself in front of both Marilyn and Nicholas, his arm outstretched as if shielding them from whatever danger might come their way. "Stay close," he commanded in a low voice, his eyes scanning the chaos, assessing the situation with the calm precision of a man used to handling emergencies.

Nicholas, however, was less focused on the danger and more fixated on the boy with glasses. There was something unmistakably magical about what had just occurred, and he couldn't shake the feeling that this boy—this quiet, unassuming boy—had something to do with it. Leaning closer to his parents, Nicholas spoke in a hushed tone. "That boy... he's a wizard too," he said, his voice barely above a whisper, though his excitement was clear.

Arthur turned his head slightly, his brow furrowed in confusion. "A wizard?" he asked, his tone filled with skepticism. His gaze followed Nicholas's pointed finger to the boy, who was still on the ground, looking as bewildered as everyone else. The chaos around them continued, with zoo guards rushing to pull the large boy from the enclosure as the snake slithered off into the shadows, but Arthur's attention remained fixed on the smaller boy.

Marilyn, for her part, said nothing, though her eyes flicked between her son and the boy Nicholas had identified. There was a quiet understanding in her gaze, but she remained composed, her arm resting gently on Nicholas's shoulder.

As the zoo staff worked quickly to restore order, the glass wall of the snake enclosure reappeared as if by magic, and the large boy was pulled to safety, soaked and humiliated but unharmed. The crowd slowly began to calm down, though the strange incident had clearly left everyone on edge.

Arthur's eyes narrowed slightly as he glanced back at Nicholas. "Are you certain about that, Nico?" he asked, his voice low but serious. He rarely questioned his son's instincts, but this was different.

Nicholas nodded, his expression resolute. "I'm sure, Dad. That boy did something—something magical." He paused for a moment as if contemplating whether to say more. "I think he might be like me."