The wand of ash and phoenix still thrummed in Eliot's hand as he sat by the window, watching the Scottish hills dissolve into morning mist. He rolled the polished shaft between his fingers, tracing every carved swirl and ridge, feeling a connection deeper than words. This wand wasn't just a tool—it was a mirror, reflecting the truth of who he was.
He wasn't just a magical child. He was a reincarnated technologist, a system architect with fire in his blood and logic in his bones. And now, Hogwarts was only days away.
In the quiet before departure, Eliot couldn't sit still. The magic battery had been just the start. With his new understanding of Runes—and a wand that focused magic like a laser—he dove into experiments with embedded enchantments: magical circuits fused into physical objects.
His pride and joy was the Air/Heat Controller—a compact device powered by a rune-etched core and his enchanted batteries. It could cool or heat a room with barely a flicker of magical drain. The prototype was clunky, but it worked. On the parchment beside it, he'd scribbled:
Objective: Spell-compatible magical circuits with alchemical routing.
Status: Prototype functional.
He wasn't building to impress anyone. He was building to understand. Magic was no longer an enigma—it was a language, and Eliot was fluent in many.
That morning, an unexpected letter arrived—not from Hogwarts, but from a wizarding entrepreneur who'd read Iron Man and bought the Air Controller v2.0.
To DHD,
Your blend of function and imagination is inspiring. If you're ever looking for a place in the Department of Magical Inventions, we'd be honored to have you at Gringotts Innovation House.
—M.S., Director
Eliot stared at the letter, grinning in disbelief. He was eleven, and already fielding job offers.
"Not bad for a kid who was debugging Excel reports three years ago," he muttered.
That night at dinner, Eliot poked at his food, then looked up at his grandfather.
"Grandpa… is it possible to build a mobile spellcasting unit? Like a wand, but with programmatic logic? Something that activates stored spells in patterns?"
His grandfather nearly choked on his roast. "You want to build… a programmable wand?"
Eliot shook his head. "Not a wand. More like a magical Raspberry Pi. Enchantable, flexible, low energy draw."
Grandpa narrowed his eyes, half-annoyed, half-impressed. "That's not first-year work, Eliot. That's graduate-level. Borderline illegal if you don't declare it to the Ministry."
Eliot just grinned. "Noted."
Later, crossing the hallway, Eliot heard the faint pop of elf magic. One of the Clarke family's house-elves—now dressed in a crisp grey waistcoat and polished shoes—nodded respectfully.
Eliot paused. "Excuse me. What's your name?"
"Tikki, Master Clarke," the elf replied, bowing.
"Tikki, how do you feel about Runes?"
The elf blinked, surprised, then thoughtful. "We… use them, sir. To stabilize charms. But few wizards ever ask."
Eliot smiled. "Want to help me build something?"
Tikki's ears perked up. "Yes, sir."
Just like that, Eliot's workshop doubled in staff.
In his room, Eliot kept a list tacked to the wall, handwritten in a blend of Telugu, English, and Runic script. At the top, a quote:
"Magic is a source code. The world is the compiler."
Beneath it, only one project title:
AC/H Controller (Prototype Complete)
His father stopped by, arms crossed, a tired smile on his face.
"You're pushing yourself too hard again."
Eliot didn't look up. "You said you were Iron Man. This is just the montage phase."
His dad chuckled and left him to his work.
The next morning, as Eliot packed for Hogwarts, he tucked a folded schematic for the Air/Heat Controller into his trunk. His wand rested beside it. In his pocket, a custom-etched coin—Clarke family crest on one side, a single engraved letter on the other:
D
Eliot wasn't going to Hogwarts as a nobody. He was DSK, DHD, a Clarke—and someone who refused to be just another boy in robes.
"Let's see what kind of magic this place really runs on," he whispered, a spark of invention in his eyes.