Disclaimer: Neither of us own Harry Potter. If we did, we'd be writing Book 7 now wouldn't we?

A/N: This is the first joint fic of MuggleCastlover31and BlindingPinkObsession. It is dedicated to Mr. John Noe of PotterCast. 'Why?' you ask? Because it's about Dawlish, and he gave us the idea for it. Oh and we love reviews, but please no flames!

A/A/N: For the most part, we will be alternating chapters. This one came from the brilliant (and crazy) mind of MuggleCastlover31. And…here we go!

Chapter One: Mr. Patrick Dawlish

Five young boys could be seen playing a friendly, but competitive game of football in the park. Shouts of "Over here!" and "Pass the ball to me!" could be heard throughout the neighborhood. All five boys were sweating profusely in the warm summer sun. None of them wanted to be seen as the weakest so they didn't take a break- not one would admit defeat before the rest. But soon enough they all sat underneath the shade of the nearby trees. They were all panting heavily.

"What? Had enough?" a tall, black-haired boy taunted.

"Oh, shut up Kevin," a brown haired boy replied, rolling his eyes. "You're just as tired as we are."

"Yeah, Martin's right. Just sit down and stop trying to show off," another brown haired boy said, throwing a water bottle at Kevin.

Kevin just scoffed slightly and sat down.

"I reckon we'll get sunburnt if we keep playing out here..." a freckly blond haired boy said.

"Bert's probably right. He's always right," the brown haired boy said.

"No! That's not true at all Patrick! I'm not always right!" Bert said. For some reason he thought it was an insult. Bert was highly sensitive.

"For heaven's sake Bert, relax!" another blond haired boy exclaimed, rolling his eyes.

"I agree with Edward," Patrick said lazily.

Bert just pouted and turned away from the rest of them.

It was just a couple more weeks until the summer holidays would be over. Though none of them liked school very much, with the exception of Patrick, they weren't too worried about it. They would all be off to secondary school this year, and they all agreed that it would be very exciting. The only thing that worried them was not having classes together. However much the five of them fought or argued, Kevin Hughes, Martin Zerger, Bert Yeager, Edward Mercer, and Patrick Dawlish were the best of friends. Kevin, Edward and Patrick had been friends since the first day of primary school. Bert and Martin had come along the next year. They had moved to their school and didn't have any friends. Patrick and his friends were quick to befriend the two and after that, the five had been inseparable. During the summer, they would always spend the days together swimming, playing football, or just lazing around.

"It's getting dark. Mother is expecting me home for dinner tonight. I better leave," Edward said, standing up.

"We should all probably get home," Patrick said, though he had no desire to go home. Home for him wasn't exactly the happiest of places.

"Well then...What shall we do tomorrow?" Kevin said as the boys started to walk out of the park.

"Let's go swimming in the pool behind your house! We haven't gone swimming in awhile," Bert suggested.

"Sure, why not. I'm sure my parents wouldn't mind. How about the four of you come around at ten. We can have lunch at my place," Kevin replied.

One by one the boys waved goodbye to their friends and turned down small streets to go back home. At the end only Patrick was left as his house was the farthest from the park. He walked as slowly as he could, trying to take his time in getting home. Home always reminded him of all the bad things that had happened. Only time with his friends really took any of the bad memories away.

Patrick looked up and saw the door to his house much sooner than he had wanted to. With heavy steps he walked inside. Quietly he slipped off his shoes and went into the kitchen. While he had been playing he hadn't realized how hungry he was. But as he walked into the kitchen he saw his father sitting at the table with a stony look upon his face while looking at a letter. His tie hug loosely around his shoulders, his glasses were on his head, and his eyes were red.

"Patrick, we need to talk," his father said, gesturing to the chair across from him.

"Okay..." Patrick said. This was strange. His father and him barely ever talked. Ever since...well ever since that thing had happened, they barely ever spoke to each other in anything other than monosyllables.

"Patrick," his father started, then stopped and cleared his throat.

Patrick looked down at his hands. This was so wierd.

"You...you know how your mother...your mother was a witch, correct?" his father said, looking everywhere but at him

Mother? They hadn't spoken about his mother since she had died three years ago. What was going on?

"Of course I know," Patrick responded, trying to keep the shakiness out of his voice.

"Well, you know how she went to a special boarding school for magic? You've been accepted there as well," he said very fast, and handed him a letter.

It said:

Dear Mr. Dawlish,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.

Term begins on September 1.

Yours sincerely,

Agatha Fitzgerald,

Deputy Headmistress

Patrick just stared at the letter for a moment. This was too much. He hadn't thought about magic since his mother had passed away. He had started to think that magic was almost evil. His mother had worked on the Committee On Experimental Charms at the Ministry of Magic where one of her spells had backfired and had killed her. Before the accident he had always wished to be a wizard, but after the accident, he wasn't sure he wanted to anymore. After all, look at what it had done to his family. First it had killed his mother and then emotionally damaged his father to such as extent that he barely ever talked. And he would have to spend the whole year away from his friends! It was not as if he could even tell them where he was going. He may not have known much about magic and magical people, but he knew that they must live in secrecy. His friends were like his brothers...did he have the heart to leave? And yet, his curiosity was getting the better of him. What would it be like to learn magic? And he would get away from his mopey father. That would certainly be a welcome change.

When he looked up he saw that his father was looking at him expectantly.

"Are you going to go?"

"Yes," Patrick replied firmly.