Hagrid had barely finished explaining what Hogwarts was before Vernon tried to protest again, waving his broken gun like a madman. Hagrid bent the barrel with one hand—effortlessly—and that was the end of that conversation.
Elias watched Harry pocket his letter, hands trembling with excitement. Hagrid glanced at Elias next.
"You got yours too, I s'pose?" the giant asked.
Elias held it out. He hadn't opened it yet—too afraid it might vanish, or that someone would take it away.
Hagrid nudged him gently with one massive finger. "Go on. It's yers."
Elias peeled the envelope open. The parchment inside shimmered faintly, like it knew him.
HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRYHeadmaster: Albus Dumbledore…
His throat tightened. Somehow, without knowing why, a small part of him felt like it finally exhaled.
I'm not nothing, he thought. I'm not nobody.
Hagrid clapped his huge hands. "Right! Off t' London. We've a lot t' get."
"But how—?" Harry began.
Hagrid grinned. "Leave that t' me."
THE TRIP TO LONDON
They left the island shack before sunrise, riding a boat Hagrid borrowed—more like commandeered—from a terrified fisherman. The sea was choppy, but Harry and Elias sat beside each other, warmed by Hagrid's enormous coat draped over them.
"Can't believe it," Harry murmured.
Elias smiled softly. "Feels like we're dreaming."
"No dream could be this weird," Harry said.
Elias laughed. "Fair."
After docking, Hagrid marched them straight through the early-morning streets. People stared. It was hard not to with a half-giant squeezing through doorframes he clearly wasn't meant for.
When they reached a tiny, shabby pub squeezed between shops like a secret pressed too tightly, Elias blinked.
"The… Leaky Cauldron?" he read.
"Great place," Hagrid said fondly. "Best brews in London."
He pushed the door open.
Inside, everything shifted again—the air warmer, richer, full of whispers Harry and Elias couldn't yet understand.
As soon as Harry stepped in, the place fell silent.
"Bless my soul," whispered an old man. "It's Harry Potter."
Chairs scraped, people rose, hands extended. Harry turned red as a tomato. Elias instinctively stepped closer, subtly shielding him.
"He's just a kid," Elias muttered under his breath.
Harry glanced at him gratefully.
Hagrid gently waved the admirers off. "Give the lad some space! He's new t' all this."
A round-faced professor—Quirrell, Hagrid introduced him as—stammered nervously through a handshake. His eyes lingered on Elias as well, curious.
"Two new students," Quirrell said weakly. "Wonderful, wonderful…"
But Elias didn't like the way the man's eyes darted. Too nervous. Too twitchy.
He stepped back toward Harry.
"Keep close," Elias murmured.
"Always," Harry replied.
GRINGOTTS
From the pub's courtyard, Hagrid tapped bricks in a strange sequence. Elias felt the magic before he saw it—like a soft flutter across his nerves.
The wall folded away to reveal the greatest street Elias had ever seen.
"Welcome," Hagrid announced, "to Diagon Alley."
Elias stared in open awe. So did Harry.
"First stop, money," Hagrid said. "Come on."
Gringotts rose in the distance like a marble castle. Goblins moved with practiced, precise efficiency inside, their sharp suits and sharper expressions giving the place a cold, heavy feeling.
A goblin teller eyed them."Key?"
Hagrid produced Harry's vault key, then muttered, "Also need t' check vault seven-thirteen."
The goblin's eyes narrowed. "That vault is… most secure."
"Dumbledore's orders," Hagrid replied.
The goblin gave Elias a brief look—measuring, assessing. Elias felt a strange tingle, like the goblin could see straight through him.
The mine-cart ride was chaos.
Elias gripped the edges as they sped past waterfalls and deep chasms.
"You okay?" Harry shouted.
"If I die," Elias yelled back, "tell people I went out dramatically!"
Harry laughed, the sound echoing in the tunnels.
HARRY'S VAULT
When the cart stopped, the doors to Harry's vault opened with a clanking of ancient locks.
Inside lay a mountain of gold Galleons, silver Sickles, and bronze Knuts.
"Blimey," Harry whispered.
Elias swallowed, eyes wide. "Harry… you're rich."
Harry shook his head. "I—I never knew."
Elias placed a hand on Harry's shoulder, gentle. "Your parents wanted you taken care of."
Harry blinked fast, like he didn't trust himself to speak.
Together, they filled his money bag.
VAULT 713
The tiny vault held only a small, wrapped package. The room itself hummed strangely—the magic prickling at Elias's skin, almost… warning.
He stepped back instinctively.
Hagrid noticed. "Sensitive t' magic, are yeh?"
Elias shrugged, unsure. "It's just… loud."
Hagrid chuckled. "That's a good thing, tha' is."
But Elias wasn't so certain.
DIAGON ALLEY SHOPPING
With Harry's money bag filled and Hagrid's mysterious package secured, they headed into the bustle of Diagon Alley.
They bought cauldrons, scales, uniforms from Madam Malkin (where Elias spent ten minutes arguing with a tape measure that kept poking him), and browsed piles of spellbooks.
Then Hagrid pointed toward a narrow shop squeezed between two larger buildings.
"Right. Time fer yer wands."
Elias felt something flutter in his stomach—nerves, excitement, fear.
All of it.
OLLIVANDER'S
The bell chimed softly as they stepped inside.
Dust floated like glitter. Wand boxes towered to the ceiling in chaotic stacks.
Then a soft voice drifted from behind them.
"I wondered when I'd be seeing you, Mr. Potter."
Mr. Ollivander appeared out of nowhere, pale eyes shining like moonlight on water.
Harry stepped forward first. The wandmaker moved with quiet intensity, pulling boxes, handing wands over with a sense of ceremony.
"Try this—eleven inches, holly, phoenix feather."
The moment Harry touched it, golden sparks burst through the room, warm and bright.
Ollivander breathed, "Curious… very curious indeed."
Harry looked stunned. Elias clapped lightly. "Nice choice."
Then Ollivander turned toward him.
"And you, Mr. Ashford."
Elias's stomach dropped.
He reached for the first wand handed to him—nine and a half inches, beechwood, dragon heartstring—
A vase exploded behind him.
Harry ducked. Hagrid flinched.
"Oh!" Elias yelped. "Sorry—sorry—so sorry—"
Ollivander only hummed.
"Not that one."
They tried another—willow, unicorn hair—
A stack of boxes flew off the shelves.
"Not that one either."
More wands.
Elm—nothing.Yew—Elias felt sick.Ash—shelves rattled.Cedar—dust burst in his face.Laurel—every candle went out.
Harry whispered, "Do you think you might blow up the shop?"
Elias hissed, "Please don't jinx me!"
Ollivander's eyes sharpened, studying Elias's hands… then his chest… as if seeing something no one else could.
"Hm."
He vanished into the back room.
Elias stood awkwardly. "Is this bad?"
Harry nudged him. "It'll be fine. My first wand made the curtains combust."
Elias blinked. "That does not help."
Ollivander returned with a thin, unassuming box.
"Try this," he said softly.
"Ten inches. Aspen. Unicorn hair."
Elias lifted the wand slowly…
A soft wind whispered through the shop.A gentle, warm glow curled around his fingers, like the wand was… relieved.Not explosive. Not dramatic.
Just… right.
Elias exhaled shakily.
Ollivander smiled, rare and genuine.
"Careful with this one, Mr. Ashford. Aspen is a wand of strategy and healing. Unicorn hair is loyal to a fault."His voice lowered."A rare combination for a rare boy."
Elias's throat tightened.
He finally had something of his own.
They left Ollivander's with their wands boxed carefully. Harry walked tall, excitement buzzing off him. Elias walked slowly, staring at the box as though afraid it might disappear.
"You alright?" Harry asked.
Elias nodded. "Yeah. It's just… everything's real now."
Harry nudged him with his shoulder. "Good real?"
Elias looked at the wand-box again and felt that warmth spread inside him.
"Yeah," he whispered. "Good real."
Hagrid clapped them both on the back—hard enough to nearly knock them over.
"Next stop—ice cream!" he boomed. "Then we'll get you on the train. Hogwarts awaits!"
Elias exchanged a look with Harry.
Hogwarts.A new world.A new life.
And for the first time in either of their memories…
They walked toward something with their heads held high.