Chapter Text
Viktor’s first glimpse of the Wizarding World came when he was eleven. At the time, he was living in an orphanage in Bristol, isolated from the world around him. The other children shunned him, taunting him for his cane and dangling his food just out of reach. As a result, he grew up malnourished and weak, waiting for the day he would die in his sleep.
Then, he came.
The man was short, half Viktor’s height, with poofy orange hair and a big mustache. He wore a leather bag slung over his shoulder and waddled into Viktor’s life one late August morning.
“Good morning, my boy!” he shouted as Viktor lay in bed, pulling him out of slumber. “I am Professor Cecil B. Heimerdinger, and it is a pleasure to finally make your acquaintance.”
Bleary-eyed, Viktor pushed himself up. “What? Professor… Cecil?”
“Well, if you’re going to use my first name, just Cecil will do.”
“My apologies, Professor.”
“Do not worry, my boy! You may call me whatever suits you,” Cecil told him jovially. “I am the headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.”
“Witchcraft? I am afraid you have the wrong boy. I am no wizard. I do not have a coven,” Viktor responded.
Cecil shook his head. “No, my boy! You are a wizard, and will become one of the highest power with the proper training.”
He handed him an envelope. “This is all you need to secure it. Open it!”
Viktor did so, slowly peeling the envelope as to not rip it. Inside was a letter and a supply list. He read them and turned to Cecil, frowning.
“I do not have the money for this. I will not be able to attend Hogwarts.”
Cecil smiled and fished a small satchel out of his bag. “We use different currency in the Wizarding World, and all Muggleborn students are given a small fund to purchase supplies.”
“Muggleborn?”
“Born of Muggles. Non-magical people.”
“Are you sure I am not a Muggle? I have nothing special about me.”
“That is because in our world, you are normal. Get dressed, Viktor. I will take you to purchase your school supplies.”
Cecil waddled out of the room, leaving Viktor to wonder how he knew his name- and why the letter was addressed perfectly.
Jayce woke up on his eleventh birthday- August 30- with vigor. Today was the day he would get his Hogwarts letter.
Both of his parents were semi-prominent politicians, mainly known for their radical stance on combining Muggle science and magic, and he grew up in an inventor’s home. The more conservative members of the Ministry warned that they would bear a squib as punishment for their “crimes”, but Jayce was a perfectly capable magician- at least, as much as he could be without a wand. That would all change today. He’d go to Diagon Alley, to the wandsmith, and he would show everyone in the Ministry that he could do exactly what other wizards could- and could do them better.
“Mum! Dad!” he called, running down the stairs of their manor house, “It’s my birthday!”
His parents met him at the foot of the stairs, pinching his cheeks and ruffling his hair.
“Yes it is! You’re so big now,” his mother cooed. “Dad made you a special breakfast. Want to come see?”
“Yes! What is it?”
“Well, you’ll just have to go to the kitchen,” his father chuckled.
Jayce ran to the kitchen and peered over the table. “It’s just presents.”
“We’ll be eating in Diagon Alley!” his father announced. “Your breakfast here is your family’s love.”
“Can we eat at the Leaky Cauldron? They have the best hash!”
Smiling, his mother nodded. “Of course. Now, come on and open them, some of these are from your gran and we have no idea what she sent.”
“Wait,” he said. “Where’s my letter?”
His father reached behind ear. “What’s that? Accio letter!”
The letter flew out from behind a vase and into his father’s hand, where he proudly presented it to his son.
“Happy birthday, Jayce.”
Cecil and Viktor did not fly to the mysterious Wizarding school shopping location.
They took the tube.
“This is quite fascinating,” Cecil proclaimed as he ran a hand across the metal architecture. “How I love the Muggle world.”
Viktor clutched his cane and nodded. “It is everything I have ever known.”
Every time the robotic voice announced the station they would arrive at next, Cecil listened intently and nodded. Finally, he smiled.
“This is our station, my boy! Out we go!”
They scooted out of the station and into London, walking until they came across a dingy pub.
“Is this condemned?” Viktor asked. Cecil shook his head and pointed to the sign, which had been empty. Now, it was emblazoned with the words ‘The Leaky Cauldron’.
“And now, in we go.” Cecil said with a twinkle in his eye.
They entered, and Viktor was amazed to see the pub full of life. People of all kinds sat in tables, at the bar, or stood chatting. Walking past the bar, the bartender waved at Cecil.
“Professor Heimerdinger! Welcome back. It’s almost school season, eh? Who’s that with you?”
“This is Viktor,” Cecil told him.
He looked Viktor up and down and gave a gap-toothed smile. “Well, maybe some magic’ll fatten him up and put some life back in that leg. Come by anytime, son, food’s on the house ‘till you get some meat on those bones.”
Viktor nodded. “Thank you, sir.”
“Oh, no need for all that. Call me Vander.”
“We’ll come back after we shop, Vander,” Cecil interrupted. “It’s about time for the last-minute rush, and Viktor needs many things.”
“Of course, Professor. I’ll save a whiskey for you.”
They walked out of the pub and into a courtyard, where Cecil took a magic wand out of his bag and tapped bricks in a pattern.
“Will I need to memorize this?” Viktor asked. Cecil laughed and patted his hand.
“It will become second nature. Now look, my boy!”
Viktor glanced at where there had once been a brick wall. Now, there was a bustling alleyway.
“Welcome to Diagon Alley!” Cecil told him.
They entered the alley, and Viktor’s attention was drawn to different locations rapidly. There was a shop with owls and other pets, a gaggle of children around a shop labeled “Quidditch”, and a green fireplace that people kept stumbling out of.
“What is that?” he asked, pointing to the fireplace.
“That is the Floo network,” Cecil responded. “Would you like to look?”
He nodded, and they wound their way to the fireplace. Nobody was coming out of it, and the fire was a normal orange, so Viktor leaned in to inspect it.
“Careful-” Cecil warned, cut off as the fire turned green again. Viktor jumped backward, but landed without his cane and fell to the floor. He looked to the fireplace, wondering who would come out of it.
“Jayce Talis!” a woman said, stepping out, “Come on. I know you don’t like the Floo, but this is the only way until we get you a broom.”
Cecil chuckled. “Mrs. Talis! Wonderful to see you here.”
“Professor Heimerdinger. What are you doing in Diagon Alley?”
“I-”
He was cut off again, this time as a boy around Viktor’s age stepped out and coughed. He looked around, and his eyes landed on Viktor on the floor.
“Merlin! Let me help you up,” he said, extending his hand. “I’m sorry if I knocked you over.”
Viktor shook his head, but accepted the hand. “It is alright. You are Jayce Talis, I presume?”
The boy- Jayce- blushed. “I guess you heard Mum?”
“It is okay. I would be afraid of the Floo, as well.”
“Have you never used it?” he asked, eyes wide. Viktor nodded.
“I am- ah- Muggleborn.”
Jayce nodded. “Mum, can we take him in the Floo?”
Mrs. Talis laughed, gesturing to his cane (still on the floor). “Jayce, I think the poor boy needs that before we can take him anywhere. And he is in the care of Professor Heimerdinger, so it would be up to him.”
“Professor Heimerdinger?” Jayce asked, looking down. “Oh! Hello, sir.”
“Hello, my boy. I have heard wonderful things about you from your parents, so I expect greatness when you come to Hogwarts,” he responded, then turning to Mrs. Talis. “Xiemena, why don’t we shop together? The boys can bond, and it would be lovely to talk to you about your advances with Muggle technology.”
Mrs. Talis smiled. “I would love that.”
Cecil nodded, picked up Viktor’s cane, and handed it to him. “Let’s go, my boys! We have much to purchase.”
Jayce cleared his throat. “And we need to eat.”
Viktor returned to the orphanage that night with a full stomach, a full bag of school supplies (left with Jayce for safekeeping), more money than he had ever touched in his entire life- one Galleon and three Sickles, though he didn’t know what that meant (nor the conversion rates), and two new friends- Cecil and Jayce.
Jayce returned to his home carrying a load of bags and a full heart. As he fell asleep, he found his thoughts drifting to Viktor. If they were friends now- and he was pretty sure they were- he wanted to do something good for him. Something that would make his heart flutter just as Jayce’s did when he first saw him.
Something perfect.