Night had fallen. With a heavy creak, the oak doors opened as William stepped into the Shafiq family manor, suitcase in hand.
Compared to the suffocating bureaucracy of the Ministry of Magic, the air here carried the faint scent of dragon's blood incense, calm and serene.
The entrance hall rose high overhead. The atmosphere of age and history mingled with the smell of teak furniture and old parchment. A floating crystal chandelier cast a gentle glow, illuminating ancient portraits whose painted ancestors dozed quietly in their frames.
The corridor walls were lined with dark paneling, decorated with alchemical instruments that shimmered faintly with magic—silent proof of the family's heritage.
"Master! You've returned!"
With a soft crack, a house-elf appeared, dressed in a spotless pillowcase. Its large eyes shone with eagerness as it hurriedly took William's suitcase.
"Lock has prepared dinner for you! Your favorite French escargots and—"
"No need, Lock. I've already eaten," William said, handing over his cloak as he walked deeper into the corridor. "Take the case to my room upstairs."
"Yes, Master," Lock squeaked, bowing deeply. "The master of the house is in the study, drinking tea and reading the paper."
With that, the elf scurried off with the suitcase and vanished up the staircase.
William nodded and walked down the carpeted hallway until he reached a mahogany door at the far end. He pushed it open gently.
Warm, dry air carrying the scent of tea and burning pine from the fireplace washed over him. The study was vast, every wall lined floor-to-ceiling with bookshelves filled with volumes of every size and age.
The fire crackled reassuringly.
An elderly wizard with greying hair sat comfortably in a deep red velvet armchair by the hearth, holding the very Evening Edition of the Daily Prophet Snape had dismissed earlier.
At the sound of the door, the older wizard didn't look up. He merely flicked a hand casually.
A silver teapot floated into the air, filled an empty teacup with steaming tea, and drifted neatly to William.
William took a seat opposite his father and blew gently across the tea's surface.
"So," came the voice of Richard Shafiq, head of the family and William's father, "you really did inflate Cornelius and that toad Umbridge?"
He lowered the newspaper slightly, revealing grey-blue eyes nearly identical to William's. There was no reproach in his tone—only amusement.
"Would the Daily Prophet lie?" William asked, taking a sip.
"Hah. The Daily Prophet once claimed England was one of Europe's finest Quidditch teams. And look how that turned out." Richard snorted, shaking the paper. "You can't trust even their punctuation."
He lowered the newspaper and gave his son a thorough once-over, as if checking he hadn't lost any limbs.
"Well, since you've resigned, you're unemployed. That's actually perfect." Richard leaned forward suddenly, his tone turning persuasive. "I'm getting on in years. My back aches constantly. Since you're free, it's time you took over as head of the family."
"The businesses, the negotiations with the goblins, the endless accounts—you can handle them now."
He leaned back and spread his hands. "Compared to the family fortune, that miserable Ministry salary of yours might as well not exist. Coming home to inherit the family business is far better than being mistreated out there."
William set down his teacup calmly.
"Father, you're only sixty. For a wizard, that's the prime of life. Keep going a little longer."
"I don't want to keep going. I want to retire."
"Sorry to disappoint you," William said with a smile. "I've already found a new job. I just accepted Hogwarts' offer. I start in September, and will likely head there at the end of August."
He briefly explained Snape's visit and the Alchemy professorship.
Richard's expression visibly fell. "Hogwarts? That noisy place? You'll have to deal with a flock of chattering half-grown wizards."
As they spoke, William sensed several gazes peering at him from beneath the table.
He looked down and met two raised snake heads. The moment they saw his eyes, they retreated back into the shadows under the table.
"Come out, Otto."
Chuckling, William reached under the table and pulled out a large, brightly colored snake, placing it on his lap.
It was a rare Runespoor, nearly seven feet long, covered in orange scales patterned with black stripes.
It had three heads.
The left head immediately nuzzled William affectionately.
The middle head half-closed its eyes, seemingly lost in deep philosophical thought.
The right head hissed angrily, baring its fangs in protest.
William scratched the left head's chin and soothed the irritable right head.
"Has Otto been fed today?"
"Lock fed it mice at noon," Richard said distastefully. "But the right head is picky. No appetite."
"Doesn't matter. It all ends up in the same stomach," William replied casually.
Richard had acquired the Runespoor egg years ago and had been ecstatic while waiting for it to hatch—only to hand it over to William days later and keep his distance ever since.
Though Richard wasn't a Parselmouth, he could understand snake speech. William suspected Otto had said something deeply offensive to him—but no matter how often he asked, his father never revealed it.
"If you're teaching at Hogwarts," Richard muttered from behind his newspaper, "take Otto with you. It's too noisy here. The three heads argue constantly and disturb my rest."
"Fine," William said absently, tying the snake into a loose knot. "But if I'm bringing a pet, can I take Lock as well? Hogwarts food is good, but I prefer Lock's cooking."
"No."
The refusal came instantly from behind the newspaper.
"I'm old and need someone to look after me."
"With your magical ability, the furniture could serve you on its own," William replied mercilessly.
Richard ignored him, rustling the newspaper loudly as if absorbed in the headlines.
"Tomorrow is an important day," he suddenly added, peering over the paper. "I shouldn't need to remind you to get up early."
"I know," William replied calmly. "You've never needed to remind me."