McGonagall didn't answer Jimmy. She looked at Altair.
"They're my uncles. Jimmy and Michael. My mother's gone, and my father is in prison. They're my guardians."
Altair kept his voice even. He wasn't hiding anything, exactly. In the wizarding world, Muggle affairs barely registered. Hogwarts had taken the children of Death Eaters. A gangster's son was hardly a complication.
McGonagall touched his head briefly. Then she turned to Jimmy.
"I am the Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and the professor of Transfiguration."
Jimmy stared at her.
"Sorry. You said...?"
She repeated it. Then, knowing perfectly well that words alone would get her nowhere with a Muggle, she transformed.
A tabby cat sat where she had been standing.
"Oh, shit—"
Michael hit the brakes. The car lurched.
"Altair, what the—"
"Everything she said is true. She's a witch. I received my Hogwarts letter some time ago. I'm a wizard." He paused. "You've always wondered how I survived that assassination. That's why."
Both men needed a moment. Michael started driving again, though his eyes kept finding McGonagall in the rearview mirror. She had returned to her human form.
"The reason I came," she said, "is to make you believe. Altair must attend Hogwarts to learn control. He has magic in him. Without proper training, it could kill him."
That landed. Neither uncle wanted Altair dead.
And then the other thing settled in.
A wizard. The first in the history of the Shelby family.
Michael and Jimmy looked at each other. The grins came slowly, then all at once.
"If Altair is a wizard, then we could—"
They were off. Birmingham, London, England, Europe.
McGonagall's expression cooled steadily as she listened.
"Gentlemen." She cut them off. "The wizarding world has strict laws. Any wizard who attempts to use magic for criminal ends will come to a bad end. I mean that."
She was speaking to the uncles. She was also speaking to Altair.
She didn't know much about Muggles, but she could read a room. This family had the feel of something that, in the wizarding world, might keep company with Death Eaters. She intended to reach Altair while there was still time.
Michael laughed awkwardly and shot Jimmy a look.
"Uncle Michael." Altair's voice was deliberate. "That I'm a wizard, that I'm going to Hogwarts, stays in the family. You, Uncle Jimmy, and my father. No one else."
McGonagall gave a small nod of approval.
"Only Altair's guardians are entitled to certain information about the wizarding world," she added. "I would ask that you keep it there. If word spreads to the wrong people, they could be cursed."
A small lie, but a useful one. Both men stiffened visibly at the word cursed, some old memory of witches stirring behind their eyes.
They agreed.
The car stopped on the lawn. Michael led McGonagall inside. They settled in the drawing room. A maid brought pastries and tea and quietly pulled the door shut behind her.
"I wasn't sure what you preferred," Michael said. "I've only got pastries and black tea, but Jimmy has a bottle of hundred-year-old brandy if—"
"Tea is fine, Mr. Michael."
He nodded, lifted his cup, and got to it.
"What does the school charge? When does term start? What do we need?"
"That is why I came." McGonagall turned slightly toward Altair. "Term begins the first of September. Students take their ticket to Platform Nine and Three-Quarters at King's Cross and board the Hogwarts Express."
She passed the ticket to Altair.
"The platform is enchanted. Only those with magic can pass through. Muggles cannot perceive it." She glanced at Michael and Jimmy. "Muggles are people without magic."
"As for tuition, there is none. Hogwarts is free. Students provide their own books and supplies, all of which can be purchased in Diagon Alley. The wizarding currency is the gold Galleon, the silver Sickle, and the bronze Knut. As a Muggle-born student, you may exchange pounds for Galleons at Gringotts. One hundred Galleons costs five hundred pounds per year."
Michael had braced himself for tens of thousands. Possibly gold bars.
Five hundred pounds.
"The entrance to Diagon Alley is on Charing Cross Road in London, through a pub called the Leaky Cauldron. Like the platform, it's hidden from Muggles. A young wizard without a wand can't enter alone and needs to be accompanied by someone with magic."
She looked at Altair.
"Tomorrow I'll take you and another student to Diagon Alley for your supplies. She comes from a Muggle family as well. You may find it useful to look out for each other at school."