Alexander arrived home around nine in the evening, the weight of another long day on his shoulders. To his surprise, Circe had already fallen asleep. The day had been exhausting for the little one, and he knew that, by morning, she would likely scold him for missing another bedtime story. Edmund had already retreated to his room, as usual, quietly and discreetly, leaving only Eleanor still awake.
She sat near the fireplace, the flickering light of the flames casting a golden glow on her face as she read a book. Alexander raised an eyebrow when he noticed the title: Dracula, by Bram Stoker. He found her interest in novels fascinating, but there was a nagging thought that troubled him—soon enough, she would come home with a boyfriend. Eleanor was a beautiful, intelligent, and kind young woman. Alexander had never had daughters, only three sons, so he had never had to deal with this sort of concern before. He knew how protective parents could be with their daughters, but he had no idea how he would react the day Eleanor or Circe brought someone home.
He hoped, for the young men's sake, that they were decent.
Eleanor looked up from her book and noticed him standing in the doorway, watching her in silence. Her face lit up with a warm smile, the kind that had the power to melt away the shadows in Alexander's soul, even if only for a brief moment.
— You came home late today, Grandpa. Did something happen? — Her voice was soft, yet it carried a genuine concern.
Alexander shook his head and made a dismissive gesture as he walked toward the armchair by the fireplace and sat down with a tired sigh.
— Nothing you need to worry about, Eleanor.
She closed the book and placed it on the coffee table. Her serious gaze remained fixed on him for a long moment before she gathered the courage to ask.
— Grandpa... can I ask you something?
He met her eyes and nodded, a small gesture that encouraged her to continue.
— You're not putting yourself in danger again, are you? — Her voice held a pleading tone. — You're always away, always so worried... Did something happen?
Alexander held his breath for a moment before responding. He didn't like lying to Eleanor, but he also didn't want to burden her with truths that could only make her more anxious.
— I'm not putting myself in danger, dear — he said calmly. — I'm just taking care of some old business... but I promise, I wouldn't do anything that would harm me. Not with you three to look after.
His smile was bittersweet as he gazed at the dancing flames. The grandchildren had already lost their parents. He couldn't allow them to lose anyone else.
— Your grandpa may be a selfish man, Eleanor, but you three are the most important thing I have. I love you too much to do anything that would make you sad. I won't die.
Eleanor hugged her knees, burying her face between them. Alexander didn't need to see her to know she was crying. His heart tightened.
— Dad said he would be back soon, Grandpa... — Her voice trembled, muffled by the pain. — But he didn't come back.
The sorrow in her words cut Alexander deeper than any curse he had ever faced in his life.
— So why don't you give up this job? — Eleanor continued, raising her head. — You're always so tired... I admire what you do, how you protect people, but... who protects you?
Alexander closed his eyes for a moment, absorbing the question. He couldn't deny it.
He took a deep breath before responding:
— Eleanor... you're not a child anymore. That's why I need you to listen closely to what I'm about to say.
"A good man should protect his family, and if possible, protect others as well. If you can do something and you don't, and something bad happens because of it, then the responsibility is yours."
The serious tone made Eleanor quickly wipe away her tears and lift her gaze.
— Your father and your uncles didn't listen to me — he continued, his voice deep. — Maybe, if they had, things would have been different.
Eleanor swallowed hard, waiting for the next words.
— Even though we have the responsibility and the duty to help others, Eleanor, the first priority is you and your family. Other people can be cruel, and it's important to know where we're heading.
— Never do anything that puts your life at unnecessary risk. Plan your moves carefully. Don't trust too much in anyone who doesn't share your blood.
— I know you care about me, child, and I'm happy that someone as young as you cares for an old man like me, but I'm no longer an Auror. I'm just a glorified office worker. I don't go out there catching dark wizards like I used to.
She bit her lip, hesitant.
Eleanor remained silent for a long moment, reflecting on his words. After some time, she murmured:
— Do you miss it? Do you miss being an Auror?
Alexander looked at his granddaughter with a serious expression.
— Sometimes I miss the action... I was a bit immature when I decided to become an Auror. I wanted to be a hero. But over time, I realized that was the wrong reason. What really matters is helping others, and I can do that whether I'm an Auror or not. I don't duel with wands or face beasts anymore, but I help many more people than I did before.
— I want to be an Auror, Grandpa. Like you were. Like Dad was. Not to be a hero, but to help, to protect others... and to help you, Grandpa.
Alexander felt his stomach twist. He stared at her for a moment, processing those words.
— Eleanor... this is not something to decide lightly.
— I know — she replied firmly. — But I want to help. I want to protect people, just like you did. Like Dad did.
He rubbed his face, tired.
— You're too young to understand what that really means.
— Then teach me.
Her boldness took him by surprise. He fell silent, watching her with an unreadable expression.
— If you want to help me — he finally said —, then I'll give you more responsibilities. But I still don't agree with this. Being an Auror isn't a game, Eleanor. You need to prove you have the discipline, patience, and, above all, the intelligence for it.
Her eyes lit up.
— I'll prove it.
Alexander sighed, knowing that this conversation was far from over.
— We'll see.
Eleanor smiled, determined. And at that moment, Alexander knew that, like it or not, history was about to repeat itself.