[Note: Read up to Chapter - 96 on P patron at: p-atreon.com/Knockturn_Alley]
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In truth, ever since Aris arrived in this world, one question had constantly weighed on his mind—
How was he meant to survive here?
Should he keep his head down, bide his time quietly in some forgotten corner until he was powerful enough to emerge?
Should he follow the main characters of this story, tagging along and relying on his knowledge of the plot to coast through life—well-fed, well-liked, and comfortably forgettable?
Or... should he stake his claim boldly from the very start, show the world his talent, and declare his arrival from the highest peak?
It wasn't until the system appeared that Aris made his choice.
Laying low? That was never going to work.
Not with the family name Shafiq—one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight. His very existence drew attention whether he liked it or not.
As for clinging to the protagonists?
He had no interest in being anyone's shadow.
And so, only one path remained.
This world may be cruel—but only to those with mediocre talent, no family name, and no one to back them.
But Aris Shafiq?
Any of that didn't burden him.
With the integration of Merlin's Talent Card, he now held the most exceptional magical aptitude in the wizarding world.
As the last heir to the prestigious Shafiq family, he had resources others could only dream of.
And as a traverser, he already knew the shape of things to come—the key players, the turning points, the fatal mistakes.
With all of that, why should he cower? Why act beneath himself?
In the dead silence of the Great Hall, his voice rang out once more.
"It's quite alright, Professor McGonagall. If you still haven't come up with an answer to my question, I don't mind giving you a bit more time."
A wave of gasps swept through the hall.
Every student in Hogwarts froze.
The looks on their faces were a mixture of shock, disbelief... and the kind of expression you'd expect from someone trying very hard not to lose a chess match—or their breakfast.
And this was exactly the effect Aris had aimed for.
This was how he intended to announce his arrival to the world.
"Mr. Shafiq, you…"
Professor McGonagall's expression shifted—somewhere between embarrassment and alarm, with a good measure of panic mixed in.
Because what the boy had just said wasn't merely bold—it was outright condescending.
It wasn't just a challenge to the established norms of the wizarding world—it was a direct challenge to them, the professors themselves.
All his lofty talk boiled down to one clear message:
The way Hogwarts taught magic was archaic.
The wizarding world was stuck in the past.
And it was time the new generation—the likes of Aris Shafiq—stepped up and changed things.
As for that question about the "nature of magic"?
To someone like McGonagall—or even Dumbledore—it might've sounded like a thinly veiled pretext.
What was this boy really up to?
"Albus…?" she turned uncertainly to the silver-haired Headmaster, seeking guidance.
"Perhaps," Dumbledore said slowly, "it's time we had a proper conversation with this young man."
His face had turned uncharacteristically serious.
Because in Aris… he saw a shadow from his past.
A brilliant mind.
A dangerous idealist.
A boy not unlike an old friend—one who now sat imprisoned in the high tower of Nurmengard.
Gellert Grindelwald.
And it was he, Albus Dumbledore, who had put him there.
Dumbledore gave McGonagall a meaningful nod.
"You'll have to oversee the rest of the dinner," he said quietly.
Rising to his feet, he addressed the other professors with a courteous nod.
"If anyone has questions, we can discuss them later. For now, I'd like a word with Mr Shafiq. My apologies."
Then, as if suddenly remembering, he turned back to McGonagall with one last instruction.
"Ah, and do remind Mr Filch that he's to make his usual announcements to the students. And don't forget the list of forbidden items—you'll want to go over those with the first-years."
As he spoke, Dumbledore gave Aris a genial wave.
"Come along, my boy. Let's have a little chat in my office. There's a good deal of sweets in there—I daresay we'll find something to your liking."
"With pleasure, Headmaster Dumbledore!" Aris smiled, nodding politely.
Then he turned to Professor McGonagall and added, almost teasingly, "Professor, I'm afraid I'll be bothering you about that answer until I get it."
"Why are you still harping on about that blasted answer?" McGonagall muttered under her breath, on the verge of snapping.
"Because," Aris said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, "it concerns the future of the entire wizarding world."
"Merlin's mouldy socks," McGonagall groaned softly, "I must've been barking mad to promise you an answer—especially to such a bloody outrageous question..."
As Aris followed Dumbledore out of the hall, Professor McGonagall finally let out a sigh and grumbled under her breath.
"Minerva, don't tell me you actually promised that child you'd explain the true nature of magic?"
The voice came from her side—Professor Flitwick, watching her with a mixture of amusement and disbelief.
"What choice did I have?" McGonagall huffed. "I couldn't exactly let him think all Hogwarts professors are dimwits the first time we met, could I? How was I to know he'd remember the blasted thing for a whole month?"
"He really is... quite the character," murmured Professor Sprout from nearby, shaking her head with a faint smile.
And just like that, the entire teaching staff found themselves wrapped in a discussion about Aris.
Even Professors Snape and Quirrell, who had remained stony-faced until now, asked a few pointed questions—whether out of curiosity or something else, it wasn't quite clear.
As for the students in the Great Hall...
Where silence had hung thick moments earlier, the place now buzzed like a hive in full bloom.
Aris Shafiq had well and truly made his mark. Students from every house were deep in discussion, their voices buzzing with speculation and excitement. It was clear they were all expecting something extraordinary.
"Can you believe it? He actually talked back to a professor—and he's only a first-year!"
"He said we're the future of the wizarding world… I dunno why, but hearing that made something stir in me. Gave me goosebumps, it did."
"Shafiq's got a point. Why shouldn't a young wizard ponder the deeper truths of magic? It's not like we're brainless."
"I reckon I'll never forget this year's welcome feast. And definitely not that first-year—Aris Shafiq…"
"Has no one realised something else? If what he said about Muggle technology is even half true… that's terrifying!"
"Oh, don't be daft. He's just full of himself. Probably nicked those ideas off some Muggle book. Utter rubbish if you ask me…"
"Exactly. A fresh-faced first-year, spouting all that nonsense in front of the entire staff like he owns the place—he's lucky he wasn't expelled on the spot!"
Many students were fired up by Aris's speech, inspired even. But of course, there were those who remained sceptical—or were simply jealous and dismissive.
Still, whether it was admiration or annoyance, one thing was certain:
Aris Shafiq had left an impression.
The kind you don't shake off easily—even if you wanted to.
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Drop power Powerstonessssssssss!
[Note: Read up to Chapter - 96 on P patron at: p-atreon.com/Knockturn_Alley]