"The same as me."
Altair nodded.
Jimmy's manner shifted at once. He reached into his coat, produced a card, and held it out to Mr. Granger.
"Hello, Mr. Granger. I'm Altair's uncle. Our family has a few small businesses in Birmingham. If you don't mind, you're welcome to visit us anytime. We have a small manor on the outskirts of the city."
Mr. Granger accepted the card and said that if the opportunity arose, he'd be glad to.
It made sense, really. Both children were young wizards from Muggle families. That was a meaningful thing to have in common.
Altair smiled to himself at the edge of the conversation. He found himself genuinely curious what Hermione and her parents would make of Shelby Manor if they ever came. It wasn't large in the ordinary sense of the word. It might give Hogwarts a run for its money.
A private amusement, nothing more.
In truth, Altair didn't think being born a Shelby would count for much in the wizarding world. To witches and wizards, Muggle wealth and power were curiosities at best. A single Confundus Charm was enough to strip a man of everything he'd spent a lifetime building.
"Well then, Mr. Granger, Mrs. Granger, and Hermione. Until we meet again."
He said his goodbyes and walked with Jimmy toward the street corner.
Mr. Granger watched them go. "I think Altair must come from an aristocratic family."
"His uncle is obviously someone important too. You can tell from the way he looks at people. But..." Mrs. Granger glanced at Hermione with a small smile. "He seemed a little afraid of Hermione."
"Who wouldn't be afraid of a witch?"
They laughed.
What they didn't know was that Jimmy was afraid because Altair had said Hermione was the same as him. Jimmy had drawn the natural conclusion: she could probably summon those skeleton creatures too.
"The Shelby family of Birmingham..." Mr. Granger muttered as they walked. "I feel as though I've heard that name somewhere before. They must be an old noble family..."
Hermione wasn't particularly interested in Altair's background. What she kept turning over was his talent. She hadn't fully understood what had happened in Ollivanders, but she understood enough. Two wands destroyed before the third chose him. Whatever that meant, it didn't point toward ordinary.
Professor McGonagall had mentioned that children from wizarding families came in with years of exposure already behind them. A natural advantage over Muggle-born students.
"But I'll make everyone see me differently."
Hermione pressed her wand to her chest and glanced back once in the direction Altair had gone, then faced forward.
...
The car moved through London traffic and out onto the open road.
Altair turned the wand over in his hands, studying it.
"Yew... Voldemort's wand was yew too, wasn't it? And a Dementor's nerve." He ran his thumb along the grain. "I always thought Dementors were more spectral than physical. The idea of nerves seems wrong for them."
The chill coming off the wand was faint but real. Dementors fed on emotion and could consume souls outright, which made the core exceptionally well-suited for necromancy. For his purposes, it was about as good a match as he could have hoped for.
He could also sense something else. A faint wariness in the wand, directed at him.
The One Ring carried most of Sauron's power, and before his fall, Sauron had been a Maia. To a wand, that kind of existence simply existed on a different level entirely.
Jimmy watched him in the rearview mirror. Altair had been running his fingers along the wand for a while now.
"Altair, that... is that your wand?"
"That's right. It helps me cast magic more easily."
At his current level the wand still mattered. He couldn't cast everything wandlessly, and channeling magic through it was both more powerful and more efficient.
He pulled out his beginner spellbook, flipped through it, raised the wand, and pointed it at Jimmy.
"Scourgify."
"Whoa!"
Jimmy flinched. A gust of air moved over him, and then he felt clean, genuinely clean, as though he'd just stepped out of a bath.
"The smell of your perfume won't escape Aunt Nancy. No need to thank me."
Altair lowered his head and went back to The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 1.
Sauron's magical talent was simply too substantial. The elementary spells barely required any effort at all.
"Looks like I have the makings of a top student too."
He put the book away and waved a hand. His belongings disappeared into the System space. He hadn't done that in front of McGonagall or Hermione, not wanting the attention. But Jimmy was a Muggle who knew nothing, and anything unusual would simply register as magic.
Which it was.
Jimmy marveled briefly, then moved on.
The rest of the drive home, Jimmy talked. Specifically, he talked about the future of the Shelby family, and what Altair's undead army might do for it. His vision, as he laid it out, involved taking complete control of Birmingham first, then pushing into London.
That was only because McGonagall had warned them.
Jimmy's original idea had been to skip Birmingham and London entirely and go straight for England's upper ranks, then use that as a base to reach for Europe.