Headquarters of the British Ministry of Magic — Auror Office.
"So... you're telling me this kid is the one who took down Alek Neil?"
Rufus Scrimgeour, Head of the Auror Office, stared at the small boy sitting in a nearby chair. The boy was currently devouring a large roasted turkey with terrifying speed. Scrimgeour's face wore an expression that screamed: 'Are you kidding me?'
The two patrolling Aurors scratched their heads in unison.
"Director, we didn't believe it at first either. But based on the statements from the local wizards and Alek Neil's own confession after we woke him up... it was definitely the boy."
They handed Scrimgeour a stack of parchment filled with notes taken by Quick-Quotes Quills.
Scrimgeour skimmed the reports, his brow furrowing deeper with every line. "Runs faster than a unicorn? Stronger than a giant? Shattered a Shield Charm with a single punch? Are you absolutely certain this isn't an exaggeration?"
"Umm, Little Goku, would you mind demonstrating one more time?" one of the Aurors asked. He drew his wand and cast a firm in front of himself.
Goku stuffed the last drumstick of his current bird into his mouth, stood up, and casually punched the shimmering magical barrier.
*CRACK!*
The Shield Charm shattered into a thousand glittering shards.
"See, Director? Just like that," the Auror said, not even flinching. They had already made the boy do this several times in Knockturn Alley because they couldn't wrap their heads around it either.
The other Auror leaned in and whispered into the stunned Scrimgeour's ear: "I suspect the boy has some kind of magical creature blood in him. It's the only explanation for that kind of physical power. Also... he's incredibly hungry. That was his tenth turkey."
Since Goku had essentially handed them a career-defining first-class merit on a silver platter, the two Aurors liked him immensely. On the way back to the Ministry, they had noticed his stomach growling and decided to treat him to breakfast out of their own pockets.
They hadn't expected him to order roasted turkey at eight in the morning—let alone nine of them. If they hadn't used the "official business" excuse to pack the tenth one to go, they suspected he would have eaten ten more. Honestly, they only stopped him because they ran out of gold.
"Ten turkeys? Well... he certainly isn't a normal child," Scrimgeour muttered, nodding instinctively. A turkey was several times larger than a chicken; he could barely finish half of one.
In the wizarding world, this wasn't unheard of. Scrimgeour knew of several half-bloods. Rubeus Hagrid, the gamekeeper at Hogwarts, and Olympe Maxime, the Headmistress of Beauxbatons, were both half-giants. They possessed immense physical durability alongside their magic.
'Is this Son Goku a half-giant?' Scrimgeour wondered. 'He's a bit short for that. Maybe he hasn't hit his growth spurt? Or maybe it's some other creature's blood?'
"It doesn't matter for now," Scrimgeour said, shaking off the distractions.
The priority was the capture of Alek Neil. This was a massive win for the Ministry. Not only was a dangerous predator off the streets, but they could use this to build diplomatic bridges with the German Ministry of Magic.
"Go to the Department of International Magical Cooperation," Scrimgeour ordered, patting the two Aurors on their shoulders. "Find Director Crouch and tell him we have Alek. Have him coordinate with the Germans for extradition. You two did excellent work. I'm putting you down for a commendation and a promotion to Senior Aurors!"
"Yes, Director!" The two stood at attention, faces beaming with pride.
As they turned to leave, one of them paused. "Umm... Director? Can we expense the turkeys? Ten birds is... a lot of Galleons."
"Yes, fine!" Scrimgeour waved them off impatiently. Once they were gone, he turned his attention back to the boy, who was looking around the office with wide, curious eyes.
"Son, where do you live?"
He needed to get the boy home. While his bravery was commendable and deserving of a reward, Knockturn Alley was no place for a child. He wanted to have a serious word with the boy's parents.
"I live on Mount Paozu," Goku answered honestly, watching two paper birds—interdepartmental memos—fly into the room and land on the desk.
Through his conversations with the "kind police-wizard brothers," Goku had figured out the basics. This world was full of people called "wizards." Like martial artists, they were strong and had weird, cool moves.
"Mount Paozu? Where is that?" Scrimgeour frowned. He'd never heard of the place. "What are your parents' names? Where are they?"
It didn't matter if he knew where the mountain was; an owl could find it as long as he had a name. Even if it was overseas, he'd just send for them to come collect their son.
"I don't have parents," Goku replied. "I was left in the mountains when I was a baby. My Grandpa found me and raised me."
"Oh... poor child," Scrimgeour murmured, a rare flash of sympathy crossing his face. "And your Grandfather? What is his name and where is he?"
"My Grandpa is Son Gohan! He lives in the Other World now."
Goku's voice was bright and innocent, but Scrimgeour's hand froze. He understood immediately. The boy was an orphan with no living relatives.
"How did you end up in Knockturn Alley, then?"
"I pushed open a door, and then I was there," Goku said, sticking to the truth.
"Ah... a Portkey." Scrimgeour nodded. It made sense. The boy must have accidentally touched a door-shaped Portkey that transported him straight to the dark market.
***
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