They said I was going to London; London of all places. I knew that was the capital of the United Kingdom. My name is Robert Bruce Steinhart. Everyone just calls me Bobby though. I'm thirteen and a half years old, but I'll be fourteen in October. For most of my life, I lived with my father. I never knew my mother and until his death, my dad refused to tell me anything about her.

My dad was always kind and caring towards me, yet he seemed troubled by something. It usually had something to do with me. I guess you could say I am a, "lucky," kid. I'm also different from most of my peers. I don't really have any friends. Why? I'm, "on the Spectrum," as my dad used to call it.

You can tell when I talk, I usually speak with a robotic sounding voice. I almost never make eye contact with anyone when I do talk. I like to flap my hands as a way to stim. I'm not very social, so I never really made any friends at school back home in the states. You might be wondering at this point how I could be a, "lucky kid."

Well whenever there's been trouble in my life, something strange usually happens that works in my favor. Like last year in 7th grade, Billy Compton tried to shove me into my locker at school. The more he tried to push me into the locker, the smaller and smaller the inside of the locker became. Finally, he settled on trying to punch me out, but ended up with a couple broken metacarpals instead. I came out of this ordeal completely unharmed.

My luck seemed to run out though these last few months. Dad got very sick. He had end stage pancreatic cancer apparently. He had some kind of surgery that involved the removal of his pancreas. Shortly after that he got sicker, and the doctors sent him home to hospice. Dad died just a couple days ago. Shortly after the funeral, I was met by two government officials. One of them said they were from an agency called MCUSA, and the second one said he was from the MoM.

They said they were going to take me to relatives who would care for me. I thought I was going to be placed into foster care. Dad grew up in a broken home, and didn't have contact with his relatives. I wasn't sure who they meant. Could it be my mom's family?

All I remember was that I was asked to hold the hand of the man from MoM. He had a strange English accent. Suddenly, I felt myself being warped and twisted away from the church I had been standing in. Everything went by so quickly, finally when we emerged we were no longer in Kutztown, Pennsylvania but on a bustling street in a city somewhere, which I would later assume was London.

The man from the MoM was looking cheerfully at me, "All right, mate?"

"I think I'm going to be sick!" I exclaimed as I held my stomach with my hands.

"Don't get sick on me now, Bobby. We're about to meet your relatives."

The man took my hand again and led me into what at first looked like a broken old shop. Yet I suddenly saw a rusted iron cauldron hanging down from an elaborate metal sign. When we entered the building, it was clear to me that it was some kind of bar or pub as the English called it. Yet, it was unlike anything I had ever seen before. There were no electric lights, just candles and people who were dressed in clothing that made them look several centuries out of place.

"Welcome to the Leaky Cauldron, Bobby!" the man exclaimed.

"I feel like I'm going to puke," my stomach was churning from whatever that wizard did to me that got us to London.

"Er… Hannah, can we get something for the boy here? He's about to be throwing up any bloody moment now."

"Oh Miles, it's good to see you again. Certainly, what the boy needs is some chocolate."

The lady who had been talking to Miles brought me a bowl full of chocolate from behind the bar. Miles took a rather large piece from the bowl and broke it into two, "Here eat all of this, Bobby, and take a seat."

Hannah pulled out a chair from an empty table and offered it to me. I took the chocolate reluctantly and sat down. At first I just nibbled on it, but when Miles gave me a concerned look, I took a large bite of it. I saw Hannah go over to Miles, and whisper something, but I couldn't hear what.

"So I take it your mission was a success?"

"Oh yes quite so. We found him alright," Miles looked at me for several seconds, "His father had taken him back to the United States and raised him as a muggle. His dad only died a few day ago. MCUSA knew the dad was a squib, and sent an auror to check if his son was magical, and he sure is. They started looking for magical relatives to rehome him with. Well all his relatives are here, in Britain, on his mother's side."

I was feeling slightly better as I finished my first piece of chocolate. I was starting on the second piece when I saw an owl fly into the pub. I thought, an owl inside a building? During the day?

Miles was looking at me suddenly when the owl dropped a letter in front of me and took off flying again. I was flapping my hand again now that I felt better. It was pretty overwhelming for me to be here, yet there was something strange, and familiar about this place. I picked up the letter on the table. It had a red wax seal on it. When I turned it over I saw something that made my eyes bulge: Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

"Miles, you told him right? About who he really is?"

"Well not exactly. I was going to wait for…"

I was so stunned that I repeatedly slammed my hand on the table and stuttered, "I'm a wiz-ard!?"

The pub stopped and became dead quiet. Miles face went white and he rasped, "I should have told him! Bloody hell."

My hands were flapping, stimming was the only thing that was keeping me from having a meltdown.

"What's wrong with him," some of the wizards called out?

Miles quickly shooed them away from me with a warning, "This is Ministry business here, move along now."

Hannah asked, "Miles, the boy. Don't you think he's a little... Well, eccentric?"

"Oh that. It's something muggles call aut-ism," Miles paused in the middle of the word as he was having trouble pronouncing it.

"Aut-ism?"

"I can't say it right, apparently though, it's some kind of social condition. More common in muggles than wizards. Apparently though magical folk born from two squibs can get it, it's why he has it. His mum, and dad were both squibs."

"Ah, Miles!"

I had somewhat calmed down a little and the pub had returned to its usual chatter. Miles was talking to a man who had just walked through the door "Niall, all right? How is Northern Ireland treating you?"

"I'm doing well! At the moment I am actually in Croydon. Listen, the family has talked at length about who will be Bobby's guardian. They've asked me to do it. As you know, his mother passed away some time ago, and being his half brother they've asked me to take him in. I'm the closest living relative he has."

"It's done then. Stop by the ministry office in Diagon Alley and get the paperwork signed. He got his letter today for Hogwarts, a little surprised he is. And um there's the business…"

"Yes I know he's autistic. My Uncle who's a squib has it. It seems to run in the family, just like the squib condition does."

"Well come on mate, let me introduce you to him."

I saw both Miles and the man who I heard was named Niall approaching my table. I quickly stood up clutching my now opened letter, "Bobby, this is Niall. He would be your half brother. When you're not at school, you'll stay with him. He's your guardian now."

"You know right?"

I didn't look right at Niall in the eyes but I quietly replied, "Yes. It seems I'm a wizard."

"Yes you're a wizard Bobby. I realize this must be quite a transition for you, mate, seeing how your dad just died. School starts in less than a week though. We need to get your supplies found in your letter."

Niall pointed me towards the back of the shop as Miles waved goodbye. Everything was happening so quickly, yet I felt a little excited knowing I had magical abilities that I hadn't known about before. Could that be why I was lucky growing up?

I missed my dad a little, but we had such a complicated relationship that I wasn't in deep mourning. It seems cold to say that, but he hid my mother from me and an entire side of the family. If I was going to this Hogwarts place for sure, I would have to adjust as best I could.