A deep ticking sound echoed through the tower.
Cronos Greywood sat near the large window, sipping tea as morning fog covered the hills. His home stood alone in the countryside of northern Britain—an old stone tower with a giant clock at the top. It wasn't just a normal clock. It ran on magic, and it watched time the way a hawk watched prey.
Cronos was tall, with blue eyes and blondish hair. He looked calm, but his mind was always busy. He could feel time. Not just passing by—but changing, shaking, twisting. Something was wrong. Small things were out of place, like a song with the wrong notes.
He had seen this before… in the books. But he never thought the timeline would shift so soon.
He stood up as the tower's air changed.
The room warmed suddenly.
He smiled.
"You're early."
In a flash of golden fire, a large red bird appeared out of thin air. It gave a soft cry as it landed on the railing. It was Fawkes Dumbeldore Pet.
Tied to his leg was a letter sealed with red wax.
Cronos walked over and took it.
"From Dumbledore. Of course."
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and WizardryOffice of the Headmaster
Dear Mr. Greywood,
I believe you already know why I'm writing.
Lately, strange things have happened at the castle. Time feels… different. The walls whisper when they shouldn't. Paintings speak your name.
I remember what you once told me: "Time is like a river."Now I believe the river is changing its course.
Please come back to Hogwarts. I offer you the position of Professor of Temporal and Spacial Theories. A subject we both know is rarely taught—for good reason.
Still, I trust you.
I hope to see you this September.
Yours truly,Albus DumbledoreP.S. Fawkes refused to let any owl deliver this. I don't argue with phoenixes.
Cronos read the letter again.
He had seen it before—in a dream, or maybe a memory from another life. The same words. The same phoenix. It was finally starting.
He looked up at the huge clock on the tower wall. The hands moved slowly. One tick. Two ticks.
"It's time," he whispered.
He turned back toward the fire, the letter still in his hand.
And as the flames danced, so did the memories.
He didn't remember dying—not the exact moment.
Just pain. Cold. And then… silence.
He had been someone else once. A man in a world without magic. A normal life filled with screens, traffic, and deadlines. He had grown up reading books to escape that life—books about a boy with a lightning scar, a school full of wonder, and a world always on the edge of war. He knew the names, the dates, the prophecies. He knew who would live, who would die… and what would break along the way.
Then, one day, he woke up in a new world.
A crying baby in a quiet hospital wing, born into a wizarding world that didn't know what he was—or who he used to be. It had taken him years to piece it together. To believe it was real. He had waited patiently, watching for the signs. And when his Hogwarts letter came, he knew there was no turning back.
This isn't just chance, he once told himself. It's a second chance.
He had been sorted into RavenClaw, of course. The hat barely touched his head before shouting it out loud. The professors had called him brilliant. Curious. Too curious.
But only he knew why he asked the questions he did. Why he studied old, forbidden books. Why he stared at clocks and asked about time-turners and causality loops before most students learned basic charms.
He wasn't just trying to learn magic.
He was trying to prepare.
Back in the present, Cronos placed the letter on the table and stared into the fire.
Why now?,Why soon?
He had planned to wait. To watch quietly. To only act if the timeline truly began to collapse.
But Dumbledore had felt it too. The ripple. The tremor.
And if the headmaster—the man thats rumored to be the Master of Death—was disturbed by a shift in time… Cronos couldn't ignore it anymore.
Far away, in a cupboard under the stairs, a boy named Harry Potter was also getting a letter.
The story was beginning again.