Chapter 1: Twenty-One Years Later — Three Years After Graduation
October, 1992
Surrey, United Kingdom.A quiet suburb on the outskirts of the city.
Inside the modest office of the George Welfare Home, the director leaned forward across his desk, practically glowing with excitement.
"Excellent! Truly excellent! I told you long ago, Doug—you shouldn't keep staying here. You should have made this decision ages ago."
Dean George clasped his hands together, his voice filled with mixed pride and reluctance.
"Even though I'll miss you, I'm still very happy for you."
Across from him sat a young man in his twenties. His chestnut-blond hair was neatly combed, and his deep green eyes were striking enough to linger in memory.
Douglas Holmes sighed helplessly.
"Dean, I've told you so many times—please call me by my full name. Douglas."
He rubbed his temple.
"Calling me Doug may sound affectionate… but it also sounds suspiciously like you're calling a dog."
Dean George nodded with complete seriousness.
"Of course, Doug."
Douglas opened his mouth to protest, then simply gave up.
For a moment he looked embarrassed.
After all, he had promised the dean he would help teach the children here for at least a year.
And yet it had only been four months before he was already leaving.
Still, when he looked at the older man who had once been his guardian, gratitude softened his expression.
"All right," Douglas said at last. "Call me whatever you like."
He paused before adding quietly,
"And thank you for understanding."
By the time Douglas finished saying goodbye to the children at the welfare home, the streetlights had already flickered on.
Rather than walking along the main road, he turned into a narrow residential alley.
It was dark and quiet.
As he walked, his eyes moved carefully over his surroundings.
When he was certain no one was watching, the wand hidden inside his sleeve slipped smoothly into his palm.
He focused on his destination.
A moment later—
Crack.
The sharp sound echoed like a brief burst of flame as his body twisted violently through space and vanished.
In the far northwest corner of Surrey, inside a small park, a similar crack broke the stillness.
Douglas appeared out of thin air in a shadowed corner.
He straightened his coat calmly, brushing imaginary dust from his sleeves, before strolling out of the darkness as if nothing unusual had happened.
Within moments he blended naturally into the small crowd walking through the park.
Long ago, Douglas had placed a small sound-dampening charm and a Muggle-Repelling Charm around this particular Apparition point.
Because of that, he never worried about suddenly appearing in front of Muggles—or worse, directly on top of one.
Ever since he had turned seventeen during his sixth year at Hogwarts, he had passed the official Apparition test at the Apparition Testing Centre, a branch of the Department of Magical Transportation within the British Ministry of Magic.
From that point on, he had held a perfectly legal Apparition license.
So technically speaking, he wasn't breaking any laws tonight.
He even had a good relationship with the instructor who oversaw the tests, Wilkie Twycross.
Thanks to some additional private guidance from Twycross, Douglas had also learned several anti-Apparition and detection counter-charms.
After graduating, he had quietly placed those protections around the small house his parents had left him.
Better safe than sorry.
Back home, Douglas cooked a simple dinner for himself.
Two dishes. Nothing fancy.
Life alone was uncomplicated.
Although he had once been a proud member of Hufflepuff House, he had never been particularly skilled with household magic.
More importantly, Douglas simply enjoyed cooking.
Of course… that enjoyment only extended to preparing small meals.
Cooking for large groups was another matter entirely.
After finishing dinner, he wiped his hands and took two thick parchment letters from a drawer.
Though they were magical documents, even enchanted paper could not escape the slow erosion of time.
The ornate emblem on one envelope had already faded with age.
Douglas stared at it quietly.
"It's already been twenty-one years since I came to this world," he murmured.
"Time really does fly."
Including both his past life and his current one, Douglas had already lived for more than fifty years.
When he was seven years old in this life, a terrible car accident had awakened a strange ability within him.
Unfortunately, that power had only been strong enough to protect himself.
His parents had not survived.
Because he had been so young—and because his parents had very few close relatives—the local community had struggled to decide what to do with him.
Some people suggested sending him to distant relatives.
But every one of them refused.
No one was willing to become his guardian.
Douglas understood the situation very clearly even as a child.
In Britain, a child without a legal guardian would face countless difficulties.
In the end, at his own request, the community placed him in George Welfare Home in Surrey.
The house left by his parents had been temporarily entrusted to the care of his mother's cousins—the Evans family—in Cokeworth.
One of their daughters had married and moved to Surrey.
Another had gone away to a distant boarding school.
Since the Evans couple visited Surrey every year to see their eldest daughter, they also kept an eye on Douglas's house.
It had seemed like a convenient arrangement for everyone.
Sadly, when Douglas was nine years old, Mr. and Mrs. Evans also died in an accident.
Afterward, he had tried contacting their eldest daughter, hoping she might continue managing the house.
He vaguely remembered attending her wedding with his parents.
Her name was… Penny? Perry? Something like that.
But the moment Douglas explained who he was over the phone, she exploded in anger.
She called him a disaster.
A curse.
According to her, Douglas had already destroyed his own parents—and then brought misfortune to hers as well.
Douglas quietly hung up before she finished speaking.
He never contacted her again.
And from that moment, he finally understood why all those distant relatives had refused to take him in.
Life after that became peaceful.
Douglas lived quietly in the welfare home, carefully planning how to use his unusual abilities.
After all, he was a traveler from another world.
He intended to become a very successful one.
One day, he would definitely prove something to those relatives who had abandoned him.
They would learn that bullying a young man with special abilities was a very poor decision.
Everything changed the day an owl landed in front of him.
The bird dropped a letter.
An admission letter from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
Douglas still remembered his reaction.
He didn't know whether to feel excited… or speechless.
Excited, because he had realized he was living inside the legendary Harry Potter world.
Speechless, because the "special power" he thought was a traveler's advantage turned out to be nothing special at all.
It was simply magic.
And now it would be regulated by the Ministry of Magic.
Thinking back to how cautiously he had treated that first Hogwarts letter, Douglas couldn't help chuckling.
Then he picked up the second envelope lying on the table.
Unlike the old one, this crest was bright and immaculate.
It had arrived only recently.
Even though he had already read it several times, Douglas still pulled out the letter and looked at it again.
Just in case.
Maybe some miracle would occur and activate the mysterious System that had appeared only after he graduated.
Dear Mr. Douglas Holmes,
Your application for the position of Defense Against the Dark Arts professor has been approved.
The Floo Network will connect your home fireplace to the office of the Deputy Headmistress at Hogwarts at 10:00 AM on July 5th (connection duration: five minutes).
Please arrive promptly for your interview.
Professor Minerva McGonagall Deputy Headmistress Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
Douglas shook the letter lightly.
"Still nothing…" he muttered.
"Looks like the System only activates if I actually get the job."
He rubbed his forehead.
There was one small problem.
If he remembered correctly, the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor in 1992 was supposed to be that flamboyant fraud—
Gilderoy Lockhart.
Douglas stroked his chin thoughtfully.
"What if I collect evidence and expose him ahead of time?"
He considered the idea for a moment before shaking his head.
Better attend the interview first.
If it didn't work out…
Well.
Sending a competitor to Azkaban was also a valid option.
As for whether that would change the course of the world—
Douglas chuckled.
The professors at Hogwarts might be curious to see what the wizarding world looked like with Douglas Holmes in it.
July 5th
10:00 AM
Dressed in a neat suit and holding a briefcase, Douglas stood inside his fireplace.
With his free hand, he tossed a handful of Floo powder onto the flames.
"Deputy Headmistress McGonagall's office, Hogwarts."
Green fire roared around him.
Before Douglas had even finished steadying himself on the other side, a stern voice spoke.
"Mr. Holmes, please brush the soot off your robes."
Douglas casually flicked his fingers toward himself.
"Scourgify."
The soot vanished instantly.
Behind her desk, Professor Minerva McGonagall adjusted her square glasses and nodded approvingly.
"Very good. A wandless spell."
Her voice softened slightly.
"If you were still a student at Hogwarts, I would certainly award Hufflepuff ten points."
Douglas smiled modestly.
"It's an honor to hear your praise again, Professor McGonagall. I hope I'm not late for the interview."
As he spoke, he opened his modified briefcase and produced a neatly wrapped package.
"These are some desserts I recently made. I thought you might like to try—"
He suddenly stopped.
Professor McGonagall's expression had turned extremely cautious.
Douglas coughed awkwardly.
"Ah… please don't worry, Professor."
He raised both hands defensively.
"I assure you there is absolutely no catnip in them this time."
McGonagall's expression twitched slightly before returning to its usual composed neutrality.
Looking at the former student standing before her—someone who had always been unusually mature and hardworking—she felt a complicated mixture of pride and exasperation.
Her gaze dropped briefly to the gift.
It was wrapped carefully in parchment, sealed with a square piece of red paper labeled with the dessert's name, and tied neatly with twine.
Douglas had always been impeccable with etiquette.
So long as he didn't… experiment with catnip.
"Place it on the table," McGonagall said finally.
"I'll take you to see Headmaster Dumbledore."
She rose and led him down the corridor until they stopped before a towering, grotesque stone gargoyle.
"Ice lemonade."
The statue immediately jumped aside, revealing the hidden staircase beyond.
As Douglas followed her upward, he couldn't help thinking—
After all these years, the password to the Headmaster's office was still incredibly simple.
Honestly… it was almost too easy to guess.