A/N: Thanks for taking a look at my story!
I hope you like it and I'll try and update as soon as possible.
Please R&R!
ANDREW
I was in search of a pub. It was that simple, but still complex. I had been sitting down watching The Simpsons at six. Suddenly, there had been some loud knocks and bumps in the parallel hallway. I had jumped up off the floor where I sat, and briskly walked through the low doorway, and looked down the corridor. There I had seen my partner quickly moving through the door, hauling her suitcases behind her. After that my memory disintegrates. I was still in shock, after all, Deb and me had been living together for almost a year, as soon as she had gotten out of school. What changed her mind, I have no idea.
The loud, happy conversations of the people around me were beginning to really piss me off. The London streets were always rowdy, but I knew my way around, and managed to find a secluded little alleyway behind the shops to search through my shattered head.
"Of course…" I muttered to myself, remembering the time when I had walked past a dark and dreary pub with
Deb, but we had to go and look at bridesmaid dresses and tux's (for my sisters wedding), and so I had to just walk straight past it. I've always wanted to try it out, but have never got around to it. Picking up my step, I strode purposely towards where I remembered it to be. Reaching my destination, I glanced around, getting last minute nerves before I walked through the black, dirty door.
Inside, everyone was dressed in funny cloaks, though some in normal clothes. I had no idea what was going on, but I still walked towards the bar.
"King Red," I said, not making eye contact as I ruffled around in my pockets in order to find some change. As I pulled out the coins and placed them on the counter I saw that the bartender (stupid git) still hadn't moved. I placed my elbows on the counter and looked straight into his eyes, noticing his gruff beard, and that he too was wearing one of those odd cloaks. "I said…" I whispered, increasing the intensity of the stare, "gimmie a King Red!" I shouted the last word for effect, and the pub around me silenced, all looking at me strangely.
"Have you been here before?" asked the bartender suspiciously looking at me through his old, brown eyes. I pulled back suddenly.
"What is this," I laugh out loud, "a pop quiz or something!" After an awkward silence, I mutter an answer.
"No." The bartender furrowed his eyebrows, pulled a stick out of his pocket and handed me its handle (or what I thought was the handle). My hand found it's way to it, and I curled my fingers around, until I was holding it so tight that my hand started hurting. I relaxed slightly, and looked up at bartender as if asking, what next? The bartender didn't speak but waved his hand around slightly, indicating for me to repeat what he did. Grudgingly, I accepted. Feeling like an idiot, I waved my arm around, not knowing what would happen. Surprisingly, I small burst of light came out of the end of the stick and went on to smash a small pile of glasses that were evenly piled into a tower. Jumping slightly, I quickly placed the stick back onto the bar, and widely stepped away. A hush of whispers spread through the room, as I was pushed up into one of this pub's private rooms.
"Holy Shit!" I exclaimed to Mr Fudge, who had just told me about anything and everything about the wizarding world. At first I hadn't believed him, and thought I was on one on those crazy kids TV shows, 'Punk'd,' or something, but after a little display by these so-called 'wands,' I was grinning from ear to ear and couldn't wait to hear more. I just couldn't believe that there was this whole other world that no one normal knew about. I was so involved with my thoughts that I didn't notice another man enter the room. When I finally looked up, I saw an old man, dressed in purple robes that was plastered with silver moons and stars. He had a long grey beard that extended to just above his waist, and covering his eyes were half moon glasses. I began giggling to myself, probably pumped with adrenalin, but managed to conceal it and introduced myself.
"Hi," I said, extending my hand, "I'm Andrew Adams, and apparently I'm a wizard." This old fellow looked at my hand, broke into a smile and took it gingerly.
"I'm Albus Dumbledore," he replied, in a formal fashion, "Headmaster of Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry. I'm here to offer you a spot at our school." I felt my mouth drop open (which isn't a good look), before closing it as not to change this Dimblydore's mind.
"Course I'll come," I said, swinging backwards and forwards on the balls of my feet as I placed my hands in my pockets. "So what year will I be put in?" I continued, "as I'm 19 probably the second or third highest?" Dambledum just stood there, as his smile turned upside down.
"I'm afraid that going to a wizard school isn't anything like going to a muggle (a word which I later found out to mean a non-magical person) school." He scolded, and continued after thinking for a moment, "you will have to learn very complex spells, and therefore you will be placed among the first years, who are eleven years old." Once again my mouth fell open, but this time I had no will power to conceal it shut, instead I sat down, and took it all in.
I was sitting by myself in an empty compartment, facing out the window. I could see out onto the train platform, with happy magical parents saying good-bye to their magical sons and daughters, becoming all teary because they wouldn't see each other for half a term. This made me think of Deb. I hadn't speaken to her for almost a week now, because I needed to transfer most of my British dollars into knuts, sickles and galleons, and I stayed at the Leaky Cauldron (the dark, dreary pub's name) so I could go to Diagon Alley (a wizarding shopping area) to get all my school supplies and my wand. I felt stupid and quite embarrassed at having to be sitting in classes with little kids, that I was 8 years older than, and feeling quite upset that I knew nothing of the wizarding world. A rustling noise interrupted my thoughts as the compartments door slid open. A small, roundish face peeped in.
"Who are you?" asked the face, as it and its owner walked into the room. My eyes scanned the body, and took notice of her vibrant red hair, and her young, immature way of speech. "Are you a new teacher?" I laughed to myself.
"Quite the opposite," I murmur, pulling my eyes away and keep looking out of the window, "I'm kind of a…" I paused and looked back at the redhead. "1st year…" I held my hand up to my head and joked around, acting as though I had a fever. I saw a hint of a smile play at her lips, but I stopped and solemnly held out my hand.
"Andrew Adams," I said, getting a bit nervous with my hand still out in front of me. "I'm officially the oldest 1st year student at any of the wizarding schools." This redhead finally took my hand and introduced herself.
"Ginny Weasley, 5th year," she replied, wiping my sweat she had obtained by grabbing my hand off onto her sweat pants. "Why are you in 1st year?" I sighed and sat back down, realising that I had in fact stood up as I held out my hand.
"Apparently I was meant to be sent a letter or something on my eleventh birthday, but I got overlooked, or no one knew I was even a wizard." I paused and looked back up at Ginny from my hands, "and so I have to start school all over again." Ginny smiled a bit and sat down opposite me.
"I'm sure you'll be fine," she said, "What a sec, I'll just go get Harry and Ron." At that, she jumped up and sprinted out of the compartment, leaving me alone with my thoughts, which are a bit personal and worrying for me to speak about. From three to five minutes later, Ginny burst back in, hauling behind her someone I assumed to be her brother, from his bright red hair, and someone else. Someone with brown hair, and an unusual line, or scar on his fore head. I shrugged the odd feeling off, and just accepted that these two guys were Ron and Harry. The brown haired one caught my eyes wandering his body. I quickly averted them back to out the window, and saw that we had left London and were now wandering through countryside. I didn't want any of the students to know about my bisexual status, as that could lower my rank in the school. I heard a sharp intake of breath after Ginny had finished telling her brother or brothers about what had happened and how I had been missed.
"I'm Harry Potter," said the one with brown hair, "and this is Ron." He paused for a moment and then told me about how all of them knew each other, but halfway through he was interrupted by the compartment door opening again.
A/N: There you go, my first chapter of this story. Hoped you like it.
Pleas give me feedback so I can know what to improve on!