Chapter One: The Letter of Admission

"Young Master Sivan, Madam has asked me to inform you that your acceptance letter has arrived. You may go to the drawing room to check it now!" With a soft pop, a small, brown-skinned house elf with pointed ears appeared before Sivan.

"I understand, Milly. I'll be there right away." Sivan raised his head from amidst a heap of metal, replying to the house elf.

House elf Milly was the offspring of the previous house elf Miller, who had been granted permission by their master to breed. Miller had served the Rosier family for over a century before passing away. The Rosier family, renowned as one of the "Sacred Twenty-Eight," had always held significant influence in the European wizarding world.

It had been eleven years since Sivan arrived in this world—a magical realm distinct from the teachings of Kamar-Taj. His name now was Sivan Rosier, which, to his relief, sounded very similar to his previous name, making it easier for him to adapt.

Sivan had already grasped the background of this world. His soul had entered the body of a newborn infant in this timeline's 1925. At that time, two dark wizards ambushed the Rosier family while they were vacationing. Sivan's father, Leo Rosier, along with the house elf Miller, were brutally slain by the Killing Curse while defending Sivan and his mother.

In his previous life, Sivan had been an orphan, raised by the sorcerers of Kamar-Taj. Fortunately, in this world, he still had his mother by his side—no longer fated to endure a second life as an orphan.

What followed was Sivan's story in this new world. He had unleashed all the magical power within him—or as it was called here, "magic." Protected by Master Yao’s shielding spells, his power surged forth, utterly disintegrating the bodies of the two dark wizards in an instant.

To his mother, Sandrine Selwyn Rosier, this was merely an outburst of accidental magic in response to trauma—a phenomenon often seen in young wizards as their magic develops. The wizarding world believed that the more gifted a wizard, the greater the impact of their childhood outbursts. Thus, Sandrine never doubted that Sivan would one day become a great wizard, the pride of the Rosier family.

In truth, Sivan himself was uncertain what had truly occurred. He suspected he possessed some innate power, but he knew that the greater part of it was his teacher’s final gift—far less dramatic than his mother believed.

…

Sivan descended from the attic and saw a striking woman standing by the garden fountain. Her sleek black hair draped over her shoulders, and she wore a deep violet silk dress falling to her calves, over which she had thrown a fitted, dark brown robe. In her hands, she held an envelope and a gift box.

"Is that my Hogwarts acceptance letter, mother?" Sivan walked toward Sandrine and asked.

"Yes. In the blink of an eye, you've reached the age to leave for school," Sandrine replied, her tone tinged with sadness.

"But I’ll be home every term break, won’t I?" Sivan said reassuringly.

"That’s true," Sandrine brightened, handing him the envelope. "Go on, read your letter. You only ever receive one of these in your life."

Sivan took the envelope, broke the seal, and removed a thick sheet of parchment. It read—

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
Headmaster: Armando Dippet
(Honorary Supreme Mugwump, Grand Sorcerer, Special Advisor to the Wizengamot, International Confederation of Wizards)

Dear Mr. Rosier,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.

Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July.

Yours sincerely,
Galatea Merrythought
Deputy Headmistress

Sivan skimmed through the letter and the list of required items, then looked up and asked, "Mother, we shouldn't be lacking any of these things at home, right?"

"Of course not. We have all the finest school supplies ready. As for your textbooks, I'll have Milly fetch them from Flourish and Blotts soon enough," Sandrine replied casually as she handed him the gift box from her other hand. "Congratulations, my dear boy!"

Thinking of the moments he had shared with his mother since arriving in this world, Sivan smiled sincerely. "Thank you, mother!"

He deftly untied the silk ribbon around the box and opened it. Inside lay a silver pocket watch, intricately engraved. Lifting the lid, he saw the Rosier family’s crest—a blooming rose—beneath which was inscribed in elegant, flowing script: Roses Never Die.

Sandrine smiled, "Try placing something inside the watch’s dial. Didn’t you always want a storage pouch? Ordinary bags lack sentiment, I think. This pocket watch was crafted by a Swiss alchemist and modified with the Extension Charm—quite presentable, isn’t it?"

Sivan pressed the corner of his acceptance letter to the watch face. The Roman numerals and hands seemed to whirl into a vortex, and the parchment was drawn in, shrinking rapidly until it vanished. In the next instant, the hands and numerals looked as if they’d never moved at all.

Reaching out with his senses, Sivan was astonished to find a space inside the watch about the size of a small attic! The area resembled an enlarged watch case—cylindrical, with metallic floors and walls. The acceptance letter now rested on the metal floor.

Unable to contain his delight, Sivan gave his mother a big hug. "I love this gift!"

Sandrine fondly ruffled his hair. "Alright, you can ignore the other items, but your wand must be purchased on Diagon Alley. I doubt you’d want one of the old wands in our collection."

And so, Sivan followed his mother to the marble fireplace at the corner of the manor’s entrance hall.

"Be sure to pronounce ‘Leaky Cauldron’ clearly, alright?" Sandrine reminded him.

After Sivan nodded, Sandrine stepped into the flames first, and Sivan followed closely behind.

"Leaky Cauldron!" he enunciated carefully.

One could not afford to be careless—mispronouncing a destination could easily lead to a botched Floo journey. Sandrine often recounted how, in the mid-century, a witch named Violet Dilleman, after quarreling with her husband, stepped into the fireplace and misspoke her intended destination, resulting in her disappearance for twenty years.

It was later discovered that she had eloped with the host at the wrong destination, having fallen in love at first sight…

…

Sivan arrived at the Leaky Cauldron, hacking and coughing heavily. Even if the fireplace at home was kept spotless by Milly, he had no such luck with the one at his destination; soot billowed everywhere, stinging his eyes.

He found himself pining for the days when he could simply wave his hand and open a dimensional portal.

Since arriving in this world, aside from studying its magic, Sivan hadn’t neglected his old spells either. Nearly every spell he’d learned before could be reproduced here; after all, both systems involved channeling energy through specific casting methods—the underlying principles weren’t so different.

But the dimensional portal spell, which required precise targeting, had always relied on the Sling Ring at Kamar-Taj for accuracy. Now, Sivan deeply regretted not studying the construction of the Sling Ring more carefully.

At Kamar-Taj, everyone had one; they were so common that he’d paid them no mind, focused as he was on mastering advanced magic to cure his own ailments.

Thus, the prodigy Sivan found himself stumped by the humble spell of teleportation…