Legacy and Preparation
The weight of the Malverne Heir's Ring felt heavier than Ezekiel expected as they left Gringotts. The elegant silver band, engraved with the crest of House Malverne—a raven clutching a serpent in its talons—seemed to pulse faintly with magic, binding him to his family's legacy.
More than that, the revelation of his Ravenclaw lineage still echoed in his mind. He had always known his mother's side carried strong magic, but to be the heir of one of the Hogwarts Founders? That was something else entirely.
The walk through Diagon Alley was filled with whispered conversations between his parents as they discussed this newfound information. Alys walked beside him, occasionally stealing glances at his ring before smirking.
"Looks good on you," she said.
Ezekiel scoffed. "As if you had any doubt."
"Not at all," she teased. "Just don't let it get to your head, Lord Malverne."
He rolled his eyes but smiled nonetheless.
Their first stop was Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions, where Ezekiel was fitted for his Hogwarts uniform. The tailor, a kind witch with a keen eye for detail, fussed over the measurements while Ezekiel remained still, used to such formalities.
As he stood on the small platform, another boy entered the shop. He had pale blond hair and an air of superiority about him. Draco Malfoy.
Their eyes met briefly before Draco gave him a polite nod. Ezekiel returned it, though he wasn't particularly interested in interacting further. He knew of the Malfoys—powerful, influential, and purist in their ideology. House Malverne, while also pureblood, did not share such narrow-minded views.
His thoughts were interrupted when Alys, who had been waiting near the shelves, leaned closer and whispered, "I saw Daphne outside with her mother."
Ezekiel raised a brow. "And?"
"And she definitely looked for you before disappearing into the apothecary."
He smirked. "Still avoiding me?"
"More like avoiding me. She knows I'll tease her about her little crush." Alys grinned.
Ezekiel chuckled. Daphne Greengrass had been a childhood friend, though their interactions had always been... interesting. She was composed, intelligent, and carried herself with an elegance expected of a Greengrass, yet she always seemed somewhat flustered in his presence.
"I'll see her at Hogwarts," Ezekiel said, stepping down as Madam Malkin finished the adjustments.
Their next stops included the Apothecary, Flourish and Blotts, and Ollivanders for his wand.
---
The small, dusty shop of Ollivanders smelled of aged wood and magic. Stacks of wands lined the walls, and behind the counter stood the enigmatic Garrick Ollivander, his pale eyes gleaming with interest as the Malverne siblings entered.
"Ah... young Malverne." Ollivander's voice was soft but carried weight. "I've been expecting you."
Ezekiel watched as the old wandmaker studied him, then his heir's ring. "A fascinating development," Ollivander murmured. "The Malverne line... and now Ravenclaw as well."
"Do you know much about House Ravenclaw's wands?" Ezekiel asked curiously.
Ollivander smiled. "Only that their lords tended to wield wands of exceptional intelligence and adaptability. Let's see what suits you."
The process was tedious at first. Several wands rejected him outright, some even sparking dangerously in his hand.
Then, finally—
"Try this one," Ollivander said, handing over a wand of deep midnight blue wood with silver etchings along the handle. "12¾ inches, Thestral hair core, Rowan wood. Unyielding."
As soon as Ezekiel grasped it, a cool sensation spread through his palm, followed by a quiet hum of power. The magic felt right.
Ollivander nodded approvingly. "A wand fit for a lord indeed. Rowan wands favor those with sharp minds and strong convictions. Thestral hair is rare—powerful in the hands of one who understands both life and death."
Ezekiel flicked the wand slightly, watching as silver sparks danced in the air.
"I'll take it," he said.
---
By the time they returned home, evening had set in. Their manor, an ancient estate surrounded by sprawling gardens, was quiet except for the occasional flicker of magical wards.
As they entered, Celes rushed toward them. "Ez! Alys!" she cried, her tiny feet barely making a sound on the polished floor.
Ezekiel caught her with ease, lifting her into his arms. "Miss me already, little star?"
She pouted. "You took too long."
Alys laughed. "You were sleeping half the time, weren't you?"
Celes ignored the remark, curling into Ezekiel's hold.
Their father was waiting for them in the study, a grand room lined with bookshelves and adorned with artifacts of House Malverne's long history.
"You have everything you need?" Thomas asked, glancing at Ezekiel's wand.
"Yes, Father."
"Good." Thomas leaned forward. "Now, before you leave for Hogwarts, you must understand something, Ezekiel. You are no ordinary student. You carry the name Malverne, and now, you also carry the potential of Ravenclaw. You will be watched—by allies and rivals alike."
Ezekiel nodded, fully aware of the weight on his shoulders. "I will not disappoint you."
Thomas studied him for a moment before nodding in approval. "See that you don't. The world is changing. Be prepared."
His father's words lingered in his mind long after he left the study.
As he lay in bed later that night, staring at the ceiling, Ezekiel felt the weight of the future pressing upon him.
Hogwarts would be the first step.
And he would make sure his name was remembered.
---
Author's Notes:
This chapter expands on Ezekiel's visit to Diagon Alley, his interaction with Alys about Daphne, his wand selection, and his father's warning before Hogwarts.