Because souls from other worlds exist, Cedric's wand in this life differs from the one he used in his previous life.
While the overall materials remained largely the same, both the length of the wand and the core material had changed.
"His wand is fourteen and one-half inches long, ash, with a core of unicorn tail hair!" Professor McGonagall announced proudly.
"But this tail hair is no ordinary unicorn hair," she added, her expression growing nostalgic.
"When my father collected it, he hadn't realized at first that the unicorn was a mother of three foals. It's rare enough for a unicorn to become pregnant, let alone give birth to three children."
She sighed softly, her voice tinged with wonder. "This particular tail hair came from a unicorn mother, and it contains immense magical energy—so much so that my father had to increase the wand's length to accommodate its power."
She looked directly at Dumbledore as she continued, "But because of how powerful the core was, no wizard had been able to gain its recognition. It rejected everyone... until Cedric arrived."
"I believe he will grow into a great white wizard. Sincerely, Ollivander—he salutes you."
McGonagall finished reading the letter and gently returned it to Dumbledore.
The headmaster's expression softened after reading it once more. The corners of his mouth twitched slightly, almost forming a smile.
Ash wood was a rare and symbolic material—representing knowledge, purity, and truth. According to legend, it could repel venomous snakes and even heal snake bites. Wands made of ash were known to be loyal, stubborn, and deeply bonded to their true masters. If handed to another wizard, they would lose much of their strength and precision. It was even sometimes called the unicorn tree.
That made it the perfect match for a core made of unicorn tail hair—especially a core like Cedric's, one infused with immense and pure energy from a powerful mother unicorn.
In many ways, this wand said more about Cedric than words ever could: a rare combination of innocence, strength, and unwavering loyalty.
"A wonderful son of the white wizard legacy..." Dumbledore muttered under his breath.
Still, he did not dwell on it too long.
He had seen many promising students over the years—young talents full of potential, full of fire. But most were ultimately forgotten by history, unable to make real, lasting changes to the wizarding world. And, Dumbledore feared, Cedric would be no different.
"So," Dumbledore murmured, "we must teach him well. We don't have much time left."
"Two more years…" he whispered.
"Harry is coming back."
In Dumbledore's mind, no one—not even Cedric—could match the importance of Harry Potter.
He was the only one prophesied to defeat Voldemort.
He was the key. The final piece. The last hope.
No one could replace him.
"I understand," McGonagall replied solemnly and exited the headmaster's office.
As she passed the stone corridor leading out to the courtyard, she paused by one of the tall windows. Her gaze drifted downward, toward the edge of the Forbidden Forest where Hagrid's hut sat nestled like an old friend beneath the setting sun.
Outside, Hagrid and Cedric were having an animated discussion.
Hagrid laughed heartily, rocking back too far in his oversized chair—then promptly toppled over with a crash.
Cedric leapt up without hesitation.
He rushed forward, offered his hand, and pulled the half-giant back to his feet.
Then, with a flick of his wand, Cedric cleaned the mud and leaves from Hagrid's coat using a perfect Scourgify.
Hagrid stared, astonished.
"That's incredible magic!" he boomed, slapping Cedric's hand with a delighted high five.
McGonagall smiled faintly as she watched. So warm. So kind.
She couldn't help but feel a deep affection for the boy who could bring joy to even the loneliest heart.
And yet… a shadow passed through her mind.
What if this beautiful, radiant boy one day fell to darkness?
What if… he became the third great dark wizard?
"I won't let that happen," she whispered. "Cedric, I will teach you everything I know. Even if I only have two years."
Meanwhile, Cedric gazed up at the towering turrets of Hogwarts, lost in thought.
"Something wrong?" Hagrid asked, easing himself back into his rocking chair.
Cedric shook his head. "No, just thinking about my practice session."
He pulled a worn book from his backpack—The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 1, by Miranda Goshawk.
Sixteen essential spells were listed inside:
Fire-Making Spell (Incendio)
Levitation Charm (Wingardium Leviosa)
Leg-Locker Curse (Locomotor Mortis)
Repairing Charm (Reparo)
Softening Charm (Spongify)
Cutting Spell (Diffindo)
Unlocking Charm (Alohomora)
Dancing Feet Spell (Tarantallegra)
Swelling Charm (Engorgio)
Freezing Charm (Immobulus)
General Counter-Spell (Finite Incantatem)
Memory Charm (Obliviate)
Tickling Charm (Rictusempra)
Flying Spell (Volare)
Banishing Charm (Depulso)
Concealment Spell (Disillusionment Charm)
Cedric didn't need to learn them all at once. Each Hogwarts year required only four to be mastered, with difficulty increasing steadily. It was a very thoughtfully designed curriculum.
But Cedric had no intention of following the standard pace.
This early arrival at Hogwarts was no coincidence. He had purposely reduced his daily martial arts training from six hours to two, all to make room for intense spellwork.
He had a mission.
"Could you do me a favor, Hagrid?" Cedric asked suddenly.
He handed the book over. "Can you read some of the pronunciations aloud? I'm still struggling with the rhythm of a few of them."
"M-Me?" Hagrid stuttered, caught off guard.
The half-giant's massive hands suddenly seemed too clumsy. He nervously wiped them on his pants, then gingerly took the book like it was made of glass.
"I… I studied this once, a long time ago," he murmured. "This is serious magic…"
"That's exactly why I need your help," Cedric said with a reassuring smile.
He blinked up at Hagrid, cheerful and hopeful.
Magic was strange and delicate. Each spell required not only a specific gesture, but also a very particular pronunciation—and sometimes, even an accent. The more advanced you became, the more those details could be omitted. But at this stage, Cedric couldn't afford any mistakes.
Two years from now, Voldemort would rise again. Cedric had no intention of being unprepared.
He planned to master all the basic first-year magic as quickly as possible.
That was just the beginning.
His goal was to complete the entire first-year curriculum across all subjects within three months. That way, he could jump ahead and learn higher-level magic from the professors directly.
He had already begun memorizing the theory and textbook content over a year ago—he could recite most of it by heart.
Now, it was time to build magical foundation.
"But… are you sure it's okay?" Hagrid asked quietly, still hesitant.
He had lived happily at Hogwarts for many years. But deep down, he still carried the pain of being expelled and ostracized.
Despite all of his strength, he had never felt like a real wizard.
And no one—not a single student—had ever asked him for help learning magic.
Until now.
Hagrid's heart swelled with emotion, but also with fear.
He didn't want to be disappointed. He didn't want Cedric to pull away if things became awkward. After all, there was such a big age gap between them.
"Of course it's okay," Cedric said softly.
He stood on tiptoe, leaned in close to Hagrid's ear, and whispered, "We're friends. You teach me now, and once I reach the higher grades, I'll teach you in return."
A tiny chime echoed in Cedric's mind.
[Ding! Hagrid was moved by your words.]
[You have received: Bonus Talent Points +1]
[Character Template Card Unlocked: Hagrid]