"The same as me."
Altair nodded.
Jimmy's expression shifted. He reached into his coat, produced a business card, and held it out to Mr. Granger.
"Hello, Mr. Granger. I'm Altair's uncle. Here is my card. Our family does some business in Birmingham..."
Altair gave a light cough.
Jimmy paused, then adjusted course with a smooth smile.
"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 would certainly pay them a visit. After all, both Hermione and Altair were young wizards from Muggle families. That was a rather wonderful sort of connection.
Altair kept his amusement to himself.
He was quietly curious what Hermione and her family's reaction would be if they ever came to visit. Shelby Manor was not merely large in the ordinary sense. It might genuinely rival Hogwarts.
That was only a small private thought, though.
In truth, Altair didn't think being born into the Shelby family would amount to much in the wizarding world. To wizards, Muggle wealth and power were nothing especially remarkable. Such things could be obtained very easily. A single Confundus Charm would be enough to make a wealthy Muggle hand over everything they had spent a lifetime building.
"Well then, Mr. Granger, Mrs. Granger, and Hermione... until we meet again."
Altair said his goodbyes to the three of them and left with Jimmy toward the street corner.
Mr. Granger watched them go. "I think Altair must come from an aristocratic family."
"That's right. His uncle Jimmy is obviously an important figure as well. You could tell from the way he looked at people. But..."
Mrs. Granger glanced at Hermione and smiled.
"He seems a little afraid of Hermione."
"Who wouldn't be afraid of a witch?"
Mr. Granger laughed.
What they didn't know was that Jimmy was afraid because Altair had said Hermione was the same as him. Jimmy had taken that to mean Hermione could also summon those terrifying skeleton creatures.
"The Shelby family of Birmingham... I feel as though I've heard that name somewhere before. They must be an old noble family..."
Mr. Granger muttered to himself as he walked away with his wife and daughter.
Hermione herself didn't think much about Altair's background. What struck her was how composed he was, how steady, in a way that had nothing to do with performance. It was different from the boys at school who could only manage envy when she did well.
What she cared about more was his magical talent.
She hadn't fully understood everything that had happened in Ollivanders, but she understood enough. Altair was an extraordinarily gifted young wizard. Judging purely by what had unfolded during the wand selection, his talent appeared to surpass hers considerably.
She had also learned from Professor McGonagall that beyond Muggle-born students, there were many children from wizarding families who had grown up around magic from birth. They carried a natural advantage that no amount of early reading could fully close.
"But I'll make everyone see me differently!"
Hermione pressed her wand against her chest and looked back once in the direction Altair had gone, her eyes steady with resolve.
...
The car moved along the road at speed.
Sitting in the back seat, Altair turned the wand slowly in his hands, studying it.
"Yew... Voldemort's wand was yew too, wasn't it? And a Dementor's nerve as the core... that thing actually has nerves? I always assumed Dementors were more like spectral beings, barely physical at all."
He ran his fingers along the surface, feeling the cold that radiated faintly from it even now.
Dementors fed on human emotion and could consume human souls entirely. That made this wand exceptionally well suited for necromancy. For Altair, it was a very good match.
But he could also sense something underneath that, a faint unease coming from the wand itself, and that was almost certainly because of the One Ring. The Ring held 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 glanced at Altair through the rearview mirror. He'd been watching him turn that slender piece of wood over and over in his hands for several minutes.
"Altair, that... is that your wand?"
"That's right. It helps me cast magic more easily."
Altair nodded. At his current stage, the wand still mattered. He couldn't cast every spell wandlessly yet, and channeling magic through a wand not only amplified the result but conserved considerably more energy.
He reached into his bag, took out his beginner spellbook, and flipped through the first few pages. Then he raised the wand and pointed it casually at Jimmy.
"Scourgify."
"Whoa!"
Jimmy flinched at the wheel.
A gust of air passed over him, and suddenly his whole body felt clean and light, 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 said it without looking up, then lowered his head and continued reading The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 1.
Sauron's magical talent was simply overwhelming. Altair barely had to make an effort before the elementary spells arranged themselves into something fully understood.
"Looks like I have the makings of a top student too."
He put the book away and waved a hand. All of his belongings disappeared into his System space. He hadn't done that earlier because he hadn't wanted Professor McGonagall or Hermione to notice. Out here there was no issue. Jimmy was a Muggle who knew nothing about the limits of magic, so even if he saw something strange, he would only assume it was perfectly normal wizarding behavior.
Which, in a sense, it was.
Jimmy marveled briefly at how miraculous magic was, then moved on without much difficulty.
For most of the return journey, he talked about the future of the Shelby family. He hoped Altair would one day raise an undead army to help the Peaky Blinders take complete control of Birmingham, then use that as a foundation to expand the family's operations into London.
That was only because Professor McGonagall had already warned them to keep their ambitions reasonable.
According to Jimmy's original thinking, they should have gone straight for England's upper ranks, then used that as a base to set their sights on the whole of Europe.