ed to shift before John, his eyes widened in shock and realization of the person standing beside him.
"Yes, Ms. Olivera, please lead the way—thank you, young man," said Professor McGonagall politely before heading off with Alina towards their apartment, which was just the one in front of John's.
He cluelessly followed behind. He only fully realised the extent of it now.
"Whaatttt!" he shrieked.
'Oh, fuck. Professor McGonagall is here. She is here for… for Alina. Fuck, Alina is going to Hogwarts, but I am not going! Oh, stupid, stupid, stupid. She is older than me, so the starting age of Hogwarts is 14, so I still have a chance. I will have 1 to 1.5 years before I still have to show a magical incident. Heck, I don't even remember Alina having a magic incident. Maybe I can get into it too.'
The incident, as much of a shock as it was, was also good news for John. It rekindled the hope in him of getting into Hogwarts.
The incident made him bubbly throughout the day. His parents, noticing his strange behaviour, were confused. John was usually a very chirpy and excited boy, but today he seemed to be vibrating with suppressed excitement.
"What's gotten into you, son?" asked his father, Robert Smith, as he set the dinner plates on the table. He was a tall man with a gentle face, currently working as a mid-level manager at a logistics company. The prospects of John's future dating life was bright if he looked as stunning as his father, though he had to do something about his receding hairline that runs through his family.
"Nothing, Dad. Just…. I scored well today in the class quiz," John lied easily, sitting down at the dining table. He was a master of acting calm, thanks to Adam's memories providing him with an unnaturally mature control over his emotions.... Not really but you get the gist of it.
"Really? What quiz you didn't tell me about iti" his mother, Julie, asked, raising an eyebrow. She knew her son too well and could sense when he was hiding something.
"Nothing that important," John quickly dismissed, focusing on his food.
His parents exchanged a look. He had finally relented on going to high school, but he barely studies anymore though he still performs good enough but he is always jumping between things.One time he even asked to join a shooting range saying something about accuracy will be useful for future, they barely understand him anymore, it feels' like he is trapped in a world not his own, no matter how weird it sounds.
"Well, that's good to know," his father said, sounding slightly relieved, though John knew his parents still worry about him.
"Now, stop talking about school and tell me about that woman who came to see Alina," his mother pressed, her amber eyes fixed on him.
"You know about that."asked John with surprise.
"Alina's mother seemed awfully excited," said his mother. "Couldn't stop talking about her. Some school counselor she said."
John swallowed a mouthful of mashed potatoes, feeling the familiar adrenaline rush of lying to his parents. "Oh, that! Yeah, She said she was here about Alina's admission to a boarding school in Scotland. Sounded posh," he said with a dismissive shrug, trying to make it sound insignificant.
"A boarding school in Scotland, huh? Must be very expensive," Robert mused.
"Alina's parents are well off," Julie replied. "Anyway, it's strange. I saw her from the window and that woman was wearing… a pointed hat. Like something out of a folktale"
John feigned a laugh. "Yeah, I noticed that too. Maybe she's an actress. Or maybe Scottish people dress like that?"
"Doubtful," his mother said, though she let the topic drop, unaware that her son had met a very real witch.
***
The next day, John was even more energetic. He knew Alina was currently getting off home. Maybe she went to Diagon alley. He had a million questions he wanted to ask her, but he knew he couldn't risk exposing his knowledge of the wizarding world.
He went to the gym, channeling his excitement into his routine, pushing himself harder than usual on the punching bag. He needed to be physically prepared, just in case. After all, the magical world was a dangerous place.
Later that afternoon, he went to the park, finding his usual spot on the monkey bars, though this time, he sat upright.
He watched Alina's apartment door, waiting for her return from her trip to Diagon Alley—or wherever she had gone. He knew she would be bursting with excitement and might unintentionally let slip some details.
Finally, just as the sun began to dip below the horizon, Alina arrived, escorted by her parents.
She looked… different. Not physically, but her aura had changed. Her eyes sparkled with a newfound wonder, and she was carrying a large, brown, leather satchel that looked far too large for a girl her size. Her father carried a large trunk which seemed to house all the materials she might have bought during her trip.
John immediately jumped down and walked towards her.
"Alina!" he called out. "How was it…are you going to Scotland?"
Alina turned, her face lighting up with a radiant smile. "John! Oh my God, I am.… Oh incredible it was!"
Her parents shot John a grateful look—they were probably tired of their daughter's incessant chatter—and quickly went inside.
"What was so incredible?" John asked, trying to sound genuinely curious and not like someone who knew about the Diagon Alley.
Alina practically dragged him over to the swing set. She lowered her voice conspiratorially. "Okay, you cannot tell anyone this, absolutely anyone, alright?"
John nodded eagerly.
"The boarding school… It's a school built in a literal castle. Only less than 20 people get into it every year! that are not Alumni."
John gasped, feigning shock and awe, though internally, he was shouting, 'I knew it!'. 'Good Alina you don't go around telling people about a magical world full of wonder, not even to your brother in all but blood since you two were little kids.'He died a little that day.
Alina's eyes were wide and shining, reflecting the setting sun. "It's not just a castle, John! It's... it's like a storybook came to life. There are so many peculiarities, so many things that just *don't make sense* but they are real! Like, they don't use regular mail—they use *birds*! And one of the ladies, she kept talking about the horse carriges! Can you believe that? It…it feels like….." She clasped her hands together, a breathless, secret joy bubbling out of her.
John maintained a facade of polite, if skeptical, amusement. "Magic?"
"No, no! That's what I mean, it's all so... *old-fashioned* and traditional, but also so advanced. I can't wait to see it! The classes sound challenging, and the history is incredible. I'll finally be learning things that truly matter to me." Her voice was full of desperate, caged excitement, wanting to share the whole truth but unable to.
John nodded slowly, his expression serious. "So, when do you leave for this... peculiar school?"
"Next week," Alina said, her voice dropping slightly, the excitement momentarily overshadowed by the reality of leaving. "It's a long journey."
***
The following Saturday morning was overcast, matching the mood of the two families gathered outside Alina's apartment. A black, sleek car was waiting at the curb— just a regular taxi. Alina, dwarfed by her large trunk and satchel, looked both terrified and exhilarated.
John stood with his parents, Robert and Julie, who were hugging Alina goodbye.
"You be safe, dear," Julie said, smoothing Alina's hair. "And write to us, even if it's just a postcard."
"I will, Julie," Alina promised, tears welling up.
Robert clapped her father, Mr. Petrova, on the shoulder. "She's going to do great things, you know."
Mr. Petrova offered a strained smile. "I hope so, Robert."
Alina then turned to John. Her eyes, filled with unshed tears, held a depth of meaning he understood perfectly.
"Well, so long, Alina," John said, keeping his voice light, trying to hide the lump in his throat. He pulled her into a tight, brief hug. "Don't forget to have lot's of fun while you're away don't let others walk over you,give them hell." This was his subtle code for her to stay vigilant and prepared.
Alina squeezed back, a tear finally escaping and wetting his shoulder. "Never," she whispered fiercely, stepping back. She gave him one last look...before she climbed into the car with her parents.
John watched the black car pull away, the sight of his best friend heading off to a secret world that was now closed to him, hitting him harder than he expected. He stood there until the car vanished around the corner.
***
Two days later, John was coming back from his afternoon session at the gym. He was sweating, his muscles pleasantly sore.
He cut through the park, taking the familiar path that skirted the empty swing set. It was late evening, the air cool and thick.
As he neared the swing set, he froze.
By the old metal swings, a figure was sitting, head bowed. It was Alina's father, Mr. Petrova.
John immediately melted back behind a thick, ancient oak tree, his heart pounding a nervous rhythm against his ribs. He hadn't meant to eavesdrop, but something about the man's still, solitary posture held him rooted to the spot.
Mr. Petrova lifted his hand slowly, raising a small, rectangular object to his face. It was a photograph of Alina.
Mr. Petrova gazed at it, and John saw the faint gleam of tears on his face in the fading light. A melancholic, almost painful smile stretched across the man's lips, a look of profound love and deep sorrow all at once.
He sat there for a long time. John stayed hidden, a silent witness to a father's complex grief.
Finally, Mr. Petrova sighed, carefully tucked the photograph into his inner jacket pocket, and stood up. He glanced briefly around the empty park, wiped his eyes with a curt motion, and walked away, his shoulders slumped in quiet contemplation, leaving the swings swaying slightly in the silence. John did not move until the man was completely out of sight.
Somehow he felt responsible for it, he is responsible for looking out for her now but the way he is it's not happening anytime soon. Shaking himself of the somberness, he grew determined, 'No resting for today buddy, have to feel my magic soon'.
Later that day John spent all night trying to meditate to feel magic.....to no avail yet again.