I am Gryffindor!

Time passed faster than I realized. It's been four years since I came to this world, and I've had to learn a lot about everything, especially since it seems that I'm the heir to our family, given that only my grandpa and I are left. I mean, we have Korvus, but he's an elf, so... yeah.

My grandpa thinks I'm some kind of genius because I started speaking, walking, and reading at an early age. I let him think that. I'm not going to tell him that I reincarnated from another world. He teaches me everything I need to know—math, politics, foreign languages—so much so that I'm fluent in French, Spanish, German, and Portuguese by now. And why so many languages? My grandpa doesn't accept anything less than the best from me. If he notices I've mastered something, he moves on to something else.

I also know magical subjects, like the history of magic, potions, and magical politics, along with etiquette. He said that due to our family, I should be taught these things early on, even though we've never gone out to visit anyone, nor has anyone come to visit us.

I wanted to learn magic ever since I started walking, but my grandpa said I couldn't try using a wand until I had my first manifestation of magic, because apparently that's when the magical core takes a more solid form, making the practice of magic less dangerous.

Well, I had my first manifestation when I was three years old. I was in the kitchen having lunch when it happened. My chest started burning, it felt like I was going to spit fire. As I held my chest in discomfort, the objects in the dining room began to float. Seeing this, my grandpa quickly ran to my side and used a protective spell as everything fell back down on top of us.

So, I'll start practicing magic sometime soon. And as for my grandpa, I discovered what he does—he's a master of magical runes. He created many of the runes that are used today and is the author of several books on the subject. That's why he demanded one hundred and ten percent effort when teaching me to carve them. Fortunately, over time, I became more than competent at doing so.

And there's one more thing—I always thought our family name was something secret, or maybe shameful to say, because my grandpa never brought it up, and I never wanted to interrupt his schedule to ask... until that day.

* Flashback *

We were in the living room. It was November, and the weather was starting to cool down in the mansion. My grandpa and I were each reading books—he was in his armchair near the fireplace, and I was sitting in front of him.

He was reading a book on runes, which he had written himself, while I was reading a spell book.

I paused my reading as the fire crackled beside me. Taking a deep breath, I looked up to speak to my grandpa.

"Grandpa..." I asked hesitantly.

Taking his eyes off his book, the old man looked at me, encouraging me to continue.

"I've wanted to ask you this for a while, but I never wanted to bother you... What's the name of our family ?" I asked nervously.

He looked at me, confused, clearly expecting something else after all that suspense.

"Is that it ?" he asked, and I nodded my head.

"Oh, it's Gryffindor," he said calmly, returning his attention to his book, leaving me in a state of shock.

"WHAT ?!" I exclaimed in shock, gaining my grandpa's attention again.

"What what ?" he said, not understanding.

"Are you telling me we're the Gryffindor family? Like Godric Gryffindor?! One of the founders of Hogwarts ?!" I yelled, thinking I must've heard wrong.

"Of course. He's one of our ancestors," he replied, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

"Why didn't you tell me ?!" I asked, increasingly confused.

"You never asked," he said, with a small smile.

And returning to his book, he left me in a state of shock once again.

* End of Flashback *

Yeah, I'm a Gryffindor... crazy, right? As far as I know, Voldemort was a descendant of Slytherin. It's not just him who can have descendants, right ?

Well, now it's just me and my grandpa who are descendants of him. My mom was too, but unfortunately, she's no longer here. I asked how my parents died, but my grandpa told me I'm too young to know and that when I'm older, he'll tell me. So, for now, it's a mystery.

Today he called me to his office, and that's where I am right now, sitting in front of him, and he has a fond expression on his face.

"Aurelius, do you have any idea why I called you here today ?" he asked, his hands clasped on the table.

"Because you call me ?" I said jokingly.

"Heh, yes, in a way. Ever since I can remember, you've asked me to teach you magic, and I've noticed that the magic within you is starting to stabilize. That's why I called you here today, to start teaching you real magic," he said with a smile.

"Really ?! Yes, finally hahaha !" I exclaimed excitedly, surprising my grandpa.

"Calm down, kid, it won't be that easy. I'm going to teach you what you need to know, but it's going to be on my terms, and if I don't see that you've mastered what I try to teach you, we won't move on to harder lessons," he said seriously, making me calm down.

"Magic isn't a toy. Do you know why underage witches and wizards aren't allowed to do magic outside their schools ? A mistake, a slip-up, and BOOM!" he said, mimicking an explosion with his hands.

The thought made me serious. I had seen him perform some spells, but most were household spells and a few runes. I had never seen him perform offensive spells.

"But it's always good to have enthusiasm. Discouragement makes you lazy and makes you give up on challenges, and that's not our goal. We're Gryffindors. We're brave, courageous, but not stupid and ignorant, so we must always be careful," he said, standing up and moving to my side.

"But since you're not of age, I don't think it would be a good idea to go out and buy a wand for you," he said, making me feel disappointed. Having your own wand is every witch's dream.

"But we need one to practice," he said, reaching into a pocket of his robes and pulling out a wand. It was beautiful, to say the least. It was long, black, with purple details running from the handle to the middle, and at the end of the handle, a small pearl that seemed to glow faintly with magic.

"This is..." I said instinctively, taking the wand from my grandpa's hands to examine it more closely.

"Your mother's wand," he said, with a slightly melancholic tone, making me look at him.

"Before she passed, she wanted you to have it, as a memory of her," he said sadly.

"Thank you, Grandpa," I said, trying to hold back tears. Is it strange to love someone I have never met ? I've heard so much about her—how she loved me, how she wanted to be here for me—but sadly, she couldn't. I love her even without knowing her.

"You're welcome. Since it wasn't made for you, you might have difficulties controlling it, but I believe it should be enough for our little training," he said, looking at me with a small smile.

I can feel it, the moment I hold it—it's like it's trying to push me away, like wearing clothes that are too tight for your size.

But I can feel my magic flowing through it, as if it's allowing me to use it, but reluctantly. This could be tricky.

"Thank you, Grandpa, it's amazing," I said, smiling while looking at him with teary eyes.

"Don't cry yet, kid. The training starts now," he said, placing his hand on my shoulder with a gentle smile.