Hesitation

Alex didn't feel nervous about school, being far more mature than most of his future classmates, but Lily's gentle advice still made him feel warm inside. 

Her kindness reminded him of why he couldn't bring himself to warn them. 

How could he possibly tell them their fate? 

Should he tell them that Voldemort would one day come to their house and take their lives? 

Even if they believed him, what could they do? 

They were already Voldemort's enemies; they must have been prepared for that risk.

Professor McGonagall glanced at the darkening sky and stood up. 

"It's getting late, Alex. We should head back. 

Diagon Alley may be safe, but it's best not to linger after dark. 

And you two, James, Lily, be careful as well."

"Yes, Professor," Alex said, standing as well.

Before they left, Alex turned to Lily, feeling a strong urge to say something, anything, that might help.

"Mrs. Potter, please be careful. 

I'm sure your child will make you very proud in the future." 

He hoped that would be enough—he couldn't change their fate, but at least he could offer a small warning.

Lily smiled warmly at him, clearly touched by his words. 

"Thank you, Alex," she said. "You're very kind." 

She reached into her bag and pulled out a small object. 

"This is a little something I made. 

Consider it a good luck charm. 

Take it as a gift to celebrate your acceptance into Hogwarts. 

And if you ever want to ask me something, don't hesitate."

Alex looked down at the small copper plate she handed him. 

It had an engraving of a doe on it, and it was beautifully detailed. 

He could feel the warmth behind the gesture and appreciated the thoughtfulness.

"Thank you, Mrs. Potter. 

I'll keep it safe," Alex said, pocketing the charm with care.

He bid farewell to the Potters and followed Professor McGonagall out of the shop.

As they left Diagon Alley, they Appeared once more.

Though the sensation was still uncomfortable, Alex managed to handle it better this time. 

He shook his head to clear the dizziness, bid Professor McGonagall goodnight and made his way back to the orphanage.

Once in his small room, Alex sat on his bed and reflected on everything that had happened. 

The magical world fascinated him. 

But the more he thought about it, the more uneasy he felt. 

Voldemort was still out there, and it seemed like danger lurked just beneath the surface of everything. 

He couldn't rely on anyone else to protect him—he needed to be able to defend himself.

As he replayed his conversations with Professor McGonagall in his mind, he started piecing together what he had learned:

First, the Ministry of Magic was under martial law, and young wizards were closely monitored by a spell called the Trace, which detected magic use in underage wizards. 

Second, the Ministry's detection wasn't perfect in areas like Diagon Alley, where many wizards gathered.

And third, with Dumbledore in charge and the Ministry of Magic actively resisting Voldemort, there was still some safety in the magical world, at least for now.

But Alex knew that wasn't enough. 

He couldn't rely on others to keep him safe. 

He needed to get stronger to have the ability to protect himself. 

That meant learning magic faster and better than anyone else. 

He reached into his pocket and pulled out his wand, admiring its smooth, dark surface. 

The ebony wand, now named "Dark Painting," seemed to hum with power in his hand. 

"It's just you and me now," Alex whispered. 

"Let's show the magical world what we can do."

The wand sparked with a faint arc of electricity as if acknowledging his words. 

Alex felt their bond deepen, the wand becoming an extension of himself.

With his mind made up, he lay down, ready to begin his journey tomorrow.

Meanwhile, far away at Hogwarts, the castle stood under the cover of night, its towering spires gleaming faintly in the moonlight, a sleeping giant filled with ancient magic.

Professor McGonagall stepped into Dumbledore's office, where the headmaster sat calmly, stroking his phoenix, Fawkes. 

"Albus, how did the interview go? 

I'm not very optimistic about this Divination business. 

Most fortune-tellers in the magical world are frauds," she said, her voice tinged with skepticism.

Dumbledore chuckled softly. 

"I'm afraid you'll have to adjust your expectations, Minerva. 

We'll soon be welcoming our very first Divination professor at Hogwarts." 

He paused for a moment, his eyes twinkling, but his tone grew more serious. 

"It was quite an extraordinary prophecy today."

McGonagall raised an eyebrow, curious but not pushing for details. 

"I see. 

Well, I also met with one of our incoming students today—Alex Wilson. 

He's a Muggle-born, very disciplined and polite, from what I could gather."

Dumbledore looked thoughtful. 

"Ah, yes, Alex. 

I've heard good things about him. 

And how was your encounter with the Potters?

Their baby is due at the end of the month. 

Has the exact date been set?"

"That's what they said, yes," Professor McGonagall replied. 

"They even gave Alex a small gift. 

I could feel some magic in it. 

Lily's been practicing with alchemy tools, and it seems she's getting quite skilled at it."

She paused and then added, "As for Alex, he's far more independent than I expected. 

He has more savings than I would've imagined for an eleven-year-old in an orphanage. 

I didn't pry too much, but it's clear he's learned how to take care of himself."

Dumbledore seemed to drift into thought, murmuring to himself. 

"The Longbottoms' child is also due soon. 

Could it be... one of them?"

McGonagall, puzzled by Dumbledore's quiet musings, asked, "One of whom, Albus?"

Dumbledore snapped back to the moment, waving away the thought. 

"Oh, nothing, Minerva. 

You must be tired after today. 

Get some rest. 

Tomorrow, we have the Order of the Phoenix meeting in the usual place. 

We have many issues to address, especially with the Death Eaters becoming more active."

McGonagall nodded, a slight frown crossing her face. "Understood, Albus. I'll see you tomorrow."

As she left the room, Dumbledore remained seated at his desk, deep in thought.