Interrupta Vitae

Chapter One: Trading Spaces

"Damn it, boy! You had best not be up to any unnaturalness!"

Son Gohan stared at the floor in a daze, only peripherally aware of the sound of heavy footsteps approaching him. The last thing he remembered was lying in his bed, missing his father. A bright flash of light...something that sounded like lightning...it was all so fuzzy, after that.

Vernon Dursley approached the prone child, his face purpled in rage. He'd been having a nice sleep when that boy had decided to start a ruckus that sounded like a stick of dynamite exploding in the sitting room of the shack he and his family had been forced into after those letters from that freak school wouldn't stop coming. Ignoring the boy's obvious change in clothing, build, and hairstyle, chalking the changes up to his being an unnatural freak, the large man swung his foot at the boy's stomach. That, alas, proved to be a mistake. Instead of soft, pliant tissue, Vernon Dursley's foot met with what felt like a brick wall. Wincing in pain, a vein standing prominently in his forehead, pulsating as his foot throbbed, Vernon was caught completely unawares when a loud, resounding bang came from the front door.

Gohan, ignoring the man who'd apparently broken several toes against his side, looked up at the rickety-looking door, his mind still reeling. His heart hammered in his head as several more loud bangs sent dust and splinters flying until, with a loud crash, the door had been forced off its hinges. Staring blankly at the now vacant door frame, Gohan made out the silhouette of an enormous man. At first, he thought it might have been Yajirobe, for whatever reason, but this man was at least three times the monk's height, and didn't appear to be carrying a katana.

"Harry?" the giant of a man asked, looking at Gohan. "My goodness! Yeh...yeh're built like an ox!"

"Huh-?" was all Gohan could get out before the giant man scooped him up in a large hug.

"Its so good to see ye, though!" he cried. "Seems Dursley here couldn't keep yeh from growin like..."

At that point, the giant man slowly put Gohan down, looking at his eyes and forehead, making the young man extremely uncomfortable in the process.

"Wait a second..." he said, peering closer at Gohan's face. "Where's yer scar? An' what happened to yer eyes?" Before Gohan could answer, the giant man turned toward Vernon, who was standing awkwardly on his sore foot. "Dursley, what 'ave you done ter Harry?" The words came out like icy boulders, and Gohan knew that this man meant business.

"W-w-what," Vernon began, trying his best to seem imposing to a man who was head and shoulders taller than he was. "That isn't Harry! Where did that damn boy get off to?!"

"Where," the giant took a large step toward Vernon, glowering angrily at the man. "Is Harry?"

"I don't know!" Vernon cried. "That boy did something unnatural, and now he's gone! Good riddance, I say!"

"If I find out you did something to hurt Harry," the giant said, pinning Vernon against the wall with a single, meaty hand. "Yeh had better pray Dumbledore gets to ye afore I do."

With that, the giant let Vernon down and turned toward Gohan, his features changed from rage to a more neutral look, causing Gohan to relax his muscles. Whatever this guy was, he didn't seem to mean him any harm...at least, not yet. Remembering Mr. Piccolo's lessons, he kept his guard up, ready to defend himself if things got hairy.

"Mah name's Hagrid," the giant said kindly. "Who might ye be?"

"Son..." Gohan began, knocked a bit off balance by the man's gentle tone. "Son Gohan, sir."

"Son Gohan," Hagrid said in a somewhat sombre tone. "I need to take yeh to Albus Dumbledore. Summat fishy is goin on here, and I think yeh might be caught up in it. Dumbledore's the smartest wizard around. Don' worry," Hagrid continued, placing a hand on Gohan's shoulder. "We're not gonna hurt yeh. I don' think yer responsible for this. Will ye come with me?"

"I," Gohan began, weighing his options. "I guess so."

"Thank ye," Hagrid said, patting Gohan on the head. "There's a good lad. Dursley, if I find out yeh had summat to do with this..."

Gohan saw Hagrid bare his teeth just a little at the frightened man. He didn't like the implications of what the giant man was saying, but Gohan felt he could handle him if he decided to hurt or kill this Dursley guy. Walking outside the small shack, Gohan winced and rubbed his eyes as the salt air stung them.

"Son Gohan," Hagrid said, walking toward a large motorbike. "I hope yeh don't mind if'n we fly ter Hogwarts."

"Fly?" Gohan asked, a tad confused. "You can fly?"

"Me?" Hagrid replied, laughing a little. "Oh no, but this ol' girl here can. A lot more comfy than a broom, if'n ya ask me."

"Would you mind if I flew beside you?" Gohan asked, a tad rattled. "I just...I need to stretch out a bit."

"Yeh can fly?" Hagrid asked, astonished. "By all means, m'boy! Just don' wander off, okay? Can't have ye getting lost, now can we?"

Gohan shook his head. It was a flimsy excuse, but Gohan just wasn't comfortable being that close to a strange man he'd just met, his mother would kill him if she found out. As Hagrid took off, Gohan let his ki lift him up, just how he'd learned, and was soon flying beside Hagrid in his bike. The man occasionally stole awed expressions at Gohan, which occasionally led to him nearly crashing into the 11 year-old boy as they flew high in the clouds to, in Hagrid's words, "keep from bein' seen by muggles." Gohan had no idea what a "muggle" was, but he didn't want to run the risk of getting on the giant's bad side, especially if he was, as he said, friend to a powerful wizard. Ki could only do so much when pitted against magic, something Mr. Piccolo had drilled into him during the time they spent training for Vegeta and Nappa's assault on Earth.

A while later, Hagrid dipped his motorbike lower, heading beneath the clouds, and Gohan followed suit. A sudden, strange tingling sensation washed over Gohan's body, as if he'd been hit by a small jolt of electricity and, a moment later, a large, imposing castle materialized in front of them. Hagrid landed his flying motorcycle next to a large hut on the outskirts of the castle, and Gohan was right behind him.

"Alrigh', Son Gohan," Hagrid said, tapping his vehicle with his umbrella, which caused it to shimmer for a second. "Let's go an' meet Dumbledore."

"Mr. Hagrid," Gohan said as they walked up the cobblestone path to a side entrance to the castle. "You can call me Gohan, if you wish."

"Preferred to be called by yer last name, eh?" Hagrid asked.

"Last name?" Gohan asked, quirking his head to the side as they walked down a torch-lit, stone corridor before he recalled that some places put given names before family names. "Oh! Gohan's my given name."

"Aah," Hagrid said, nodding. "So, yer name's done Asian style, eh?"

Gohan merely raised a confused eyebrow at this question. He'd never heard of "Asia" before...he'd openly admit to not being that keen on geography, but Gohan was fairly certain that there was nowhere on Earth called Asia. Then again, the areas the flew over, what little he could see through the clouds, didn't look like any city he'd seen before. The young man had even more questions when Hagrid started talking to a statue.

"Tell Professor Dumbledore that I need to see him," Hagrid said directly. "Quick-like, s'important."

Gohan was about to ask what was going on when the gargoyle statue moved out of the way, revealing a spiral staircase leading up. Questions floating in his mind, Gohan followed Hagrid up to a large set of ornate, wooden doors. Before the large man had even had a chance to knock, a voice came from within the room, telling them to come in.

"What is it, Hagrid?" the older gentleman asked as they entered the room, eyeing Gohan with a mixture of curiosity and worry.

"Professor Dumbledore, sir," Hagrid said, bowing his head a little, motioning toward Gohan. "This here's Gohan. I wen' to where Harry was, like yeh said, an' instead of finding him, I foun' this one. Dursley said he didn' know what'd happened, so I figured I'd bring Gohan here to ya and see what ya make of it all."

"Hmm," Dumbledore said, peering through his moon-shaped spectacles at the young half-Saiyan. "Tell me, Gohan, what kind of magic do you possess?"

"Magic?" Gohan asked, confused. "I...I've never used any magic, that I know of."

"Yet, I can feel it in you," Dumbledore said, getting up from his seat. "Do not worry," he said, seeing Gohan's tension and defensive posture. "I'm not going to hurt you, but I must know what happened. I'm going to use a few charms to see if I can't unravel this latest mystery, is that okay?"

Gohan, not sensing any malice in the older man, nodded. Dumbledore pulled a long piece of strange-looking wood from his sleeve, a wand no doubt, and muttered a few strange words as Gohan felt an odd power washing over him. Dumbledore's face took on a grave look as the last of the charms faded.

"I see," he said, stroking his long, white beard. "It would seem that young Gohan here was the victim of a most peculiar accident. If I had to venture a guess, I'd guess that he and young Harry have swapped places."

"I'm sorry to interrupt, sir," Gohan said, unable to restrain his curiosity, and worry, any longer. "But...where, exactly, am I?"

"You're in Hogwarts, my boy," Dumbledore said genially. "A school dedicated to the study of magic and the tutelage of young witches and wizards."

"What I meant to say was," Gohan began, nervous. "What planet?"

"Earth, dear boy."

"Earth?" Gohan choked out. "But...that's not right. This place isn't anything like Earth. The cities are all wrong, and Hagrid mentioned a place called 'Asia,' which as far as I know, doesn't exist."

"I believe I understand," Dumbledore said, his eyes widening with realization. "You came here from a different Earth, a parallel. This is...unfortunate."

"If what you're saying is true," Gohan began. "Then this Harry person is probably in my bed on my world. Mr. Dumbledore, sir...how do I get back home?"

"I'm sorry, Gohan," Dumbledore said sadly, gripping the boy's shoulder. "I do not know. This is beyond mere apparition, beyond what we know of the magic of teleportation."

"Mom," Gohan began, tearing up. "You mean I'm stuck here? I...I won't see my family again?"

"I don't know, my boy," Dumbledore responded in a comforting tone. "However, whatever accident caused you to be swapped with young Harry may be able to be repeated. Rest assured, I will do everything in my power to see that you are safely returned to your family."

"Thank you, sir," Gohan said weakly. "What...what do I need to do?"

"You seem to have the gift of magic," Dumbledore replied. "Otherwise, you wouldn't have been able to get past the wards. One of the charms I cast informed me that you're the right age. It is up to you, Gohan, but Hogwarts has a place for you, here, until we can find a way to send you home."

"Gift of magic?" Gohan repeated back, astounded. "I...I guess that would be good. Maybe while I'm here, I can find something useful."

"Well, then, my boy," Dumbledore said, drawing himself up, offering Gohan a hand, which the young man gladly shook. "Welcome to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."


"Ugh," Harry said, rubbing his head, which ached abominably. "What happened?"

"Gohan?" a female voice asked before opening the door.

"Wha-?" was all Harry managed to get out before the panicked woman stood before him, glowering angrily.

"Where's my Gohan?" she yelled frantically. "What did you do to him?!"

"What?" Harry asked, confused and frightened.

"Who are you?" the woman demanded. "And what have you done with Gohan?"

"Harry Potter!" he replied quickly, cowering. "I don't know who Gohan is, ma'am, honest!"

"Wh-" the woman began, before she noticed the frightened look on the boy's face.

It took Chi Chi all her self-control not to vomit when she realized what must be going on in that boy's head. She'd watched enough on the news and read enough to know an abused child when she saw one...it didn't help that she could make out faint bruises and scars on the young man's hands. He was so emaciated, so thin that any anger Chi Chi felt evaporated instantly in a wave of pity. Whoever his Harry Potter boy was, he was just a frightened, abused kid.

"I'm sorry," Chi Chi said, offering a hand slowly, a proverbial olive branch to a young man she'd inadvertently terrorized. "My name's Chi Chi, and Gohan is my son. I heard what sounded like a bomb going off in his room..."

Harry, his heart still hammering wildly in his chest, took the woman's trembling hand.

"You-" Chi Chi began gently before the window on the far side of the room opened, revealing a green-skinned man wearing a long, white cape and a turban, his face set in a scowl. Harry backed away from the man...he looked like Vernon did when he was about to start beating him for cooking his bacon a little too long.

"Where is Gohan?" the man asked. "And who's this kid?"

"His name is Harry Potter," Chi Chi said, narrowing her eyes at the green man. "And as for Gohan, I...I really don't know."

"I felt Gohan's ki signature disappear," the green man said, eyeing Harry suspiciously. "I was worried someone had gotten him. Did you do anything with him?"

"I swear, I didn't!" Harry plead, his eyes wide with fear.

Piccolo's eyes went wide, and his stomach lurched. He could sense that this boy was telling the truth, and that he was unbelievably frightened of him, well beyond what most Earthlings felt when they saw him for the first time. It was then that Piccolo felt something strange.

"Wait," he said, climbing into the room, inspecting the area above the bed. "Something feels weird here. Its like Gohan's ki, but its all twisted and...wrong." Piccolo turned to see the thin boy looking at him, his pupils wide with panic. "I'm sorry," he said carefully. "I didn't mean to frighten you. Gohan's...a friend. I can't feel him anywhere on the planet, anymore, and I'm worried."

Harry visibly relaxed, but his nerves were still badly frayed. He jumped when he felt a soft hand on his shoulder. For the second time in as many minutes, Chi Chi felt physically ill; the boy she was trying to comfort had flinched at her touch, afraid that she was going to hit him.

"Harry," Chi Chi said gently. "We're not going to hurt you, but-"

At that moment, Harry had the strangest sensation, a tingling inside his head.

"Hello?" an unfamiliar voice said, though Harry couldn't tell from where. "Chi Chi? Piccolo? Is everybody alright up there?"

"Goku?" Chi Chi said, a tear forming in her eye. "Is that you?"

"Yeah," Goku replied in their heads. "King Kai said he felt something weird happening on Earth near my house, something about the fabric of reality warping..."

"Goku," Piccolo began. "Gohan has disappeared. I can't feel him anywhere on the planet, and I didn't feel him leave or die, either. Its like he just...vanished."

"Oh no," Goku said, alarmed. "That's not good!"

"There's a boy here," Chi Chi interjected. "He says his name's Harry Potter. I heard what sounded like a bomb going off in Gohan's room and, next thing I know, he's sitting in Gohan's bed."

"Is that the other person I'm sensing with you guys?" Goku asked.

"It is," Piccolo replied simply. "He doesn't seem to know anything about what happened."

"Harry?" Goku asked in the boy's mind. "Could you tell me what you remember from before you wound up here?"

"Uhm," Harry began, unsure how to respond to someone speaking in his head. "I was in a shack with my aunt and uncle and my cousin, Dudley. They were asleep, and I remember a really bright flash of light, but it gets all fuzzy between that and when I arrived here, I'm sorry."

"That's okay," Goku said gently. "Maybe Shenron can help! Get you back to your family, and get Gohan back, too."

"Please," Harry began, unable to stop himself. "Don't send me back!"

"Why not?" Chi Chi asked.

"Because..." Harry started, shifting nervously. "Because...they make me miserable. They force me to live in a cupboard under the stairs. I don't have any of my own clothes, only Dudley's hand-me-downs. I'm forced to do all the cooking, cleaning, and yard work and they barely feed me. If I mess anything up, they beat me. Please," Harry added, plaintively. "Please please please, don't send me back."

Chi Chi could no longer help it, she pulled the timid young boy into her arms, tears streaming down her face. How anyone could treat a child so badly, abuse them so thoroughly...it was difficult to comprehend, it made her chest ache. If she ever got a hold of Harry's worthless excuse for a family, it'd take Goku himself to keep her from beating them to within an inch of their lives.

"Its okay, Harry," Chi Chi said with a sniffle. "We won't send you back if you don't want to go. Isn't that right, Goku?"

"That's right," Goku said firmly. "I'm sorry for bringing something that painful up, Harry, I...I didn't know. Still, perhaps Shenron might be able to get Gohan back from wherever he wound up."

"I'll ask Dende," Piccolo said in a sombre tone. "If anyone will know what Shenron can do, it'll be him."

"And I'll call Bulma," Chi Chi said, patting Harry on the head. "Then, Harry, would you like something to eat? I know its late, but if you're hungry, I don't mind."

"I don't want to put you out," Harry said quickly.

"Its not a problem," Chi Chi replied, hugging the boy once more. "What do you like?"

"I...I don't know," Harry said honestly.

"I'll make some sandwiches, then," Chi Chi said kindly. "Something quick and easy."

"That sounds nice," Harry said, nodding with a smile.

"You can stay here as long as you want," Chi Chi said, opening the door to the room. "Maybe I can show you what a real family is like."

With that, Piccolo took his leave, exiting from the window he'd used to enter the room and flying away. Harry could scarcely believe his eyes: the green man had simply flown off as if it was the most normal thing in the world. A few minutes later, Chi Chi brought Harry into the living room for a tray of sandwiches (of which Harry only ate two) and a large glass of fruit juice. All things considered, it had been the nicest meal Harry had had in his entire life. Not to mention...there were adults that seemed to like him. For the first time Harry could remember, he felt the faint stirrings of happiness.


Though he'd been awake for the past two hours, Son Gohan was still quite tired as he and Hagrid made their way into an odd bar. The large man informed him that he was taking him to a place called "Diagon Alley," one of the most painful and obvious puns he'd ever heard. Professor Dumbledore himself had granted Gohan with a stipend consisting of a few dozen small, gold coins he'd called "galleons," that he'd use to purchase school supplies for when Hogwarts was in session.

"Hagrid," Gohan began, rolling one of the strange coins between his thumb and forefinger. "Why'd Professor Dumbledore give me a bunch of gold coins to get school supplies?"

"Well," Hagrid began as they walked to the back of the bar. "Where ye come from, yeh might use different money, but the wizarding world uses a couple o' different coins. The ones ya got there are galleons. The next step down are silver sickles, and the last one below that are knuts made a' bronze. Ten knuts make a sickle, and ten sickles make a galleon."

"I see," Gohan said as they entered a back room with an out-of-place brick wall on the far end. "What are we doing here?"

"This is how yeh get into Diagon Alley o'course!" Hagrid said happily before prodding several bricks with his umbrella.

The wall shifted brick by brick until a large archway was revealed. Gohan's eyes popped open: hidden behind a nondescript bar was a bustling alley full of shops of all kinds. He followed Hagrid down the road, his head swinging about rapidly, absorbing everything he could.

"We need ter make a stop at Gringott's first," Hagrid said, pointing toward a large, marble building at the far end of the road. "Official Hogwarts business. Yeh don't mind comin with, do ye?"

"No," Gohan said, unable to keep a hint of awe from escaping into his voice. "Not at all."

"Good lad," Hagrid said, patting Gohan on the shoulder. It was a bit hard, and were he a normal boy, he'd have had a difficult time standing upright. However, the son of Son Goku was far tougher than a normal kid his age.

As they walked into the bank, Gohan spied several small, hook-nosed people scuttling about. Hagrid explained that they were goblins and that, though they were "right nasty blokes when crossed," they were an alright lot. Gohan merely nodded in assent; from where he was standing, they seemed quite brusque.

"Name?" the teller asked Hagrid as he stepped up to the counter.

"Rubeus Hagrid," he replied, handing over a small, golden key. "Here on official Hogwarts business, need ter get you-know-what from vault you-know-which."

"Aah," the goblin replied, peering at the key. "Is your charge coming with you?"

"Aye," Hagrid said, nodding. "Gohan here's gonna be goin ter Hogwarts!"

"This way, then," the goblin said brusquely.

Gohan had been on many amusement park rides before, including rollercoasters. However, none of them prepared him for the ride in what looked to be an old mining cart through a vast cave system with numerous, glittering, gold-adorned vault doors. Upon reaching their destination, the goblin handed Hagrid the key and the large man stuck it into a keyhole in the left side of the large, circular door. A few moments later, Hagrid appeared from the vault, patting a parcel in his coat. Their business concluded, Gohan was taken on another exciting ride back up to the main lobby.

"Now then," Hagrid said as they walked back out into Diagon Alley proper. "Let's see...I think our firs' stop is gon' be Ollivander's, since yeh need a wand if you want ter do any magic."

"Okay," Gohan replied, quirking an eyebrow. Mr. Piccolo didn't need a wand to do the magic he did, nor did Dende when he made the Dragon Balls. Maybe their magic just works differently, Gohan thought as they walked up to a rather plain-looking shop with a large sign that read "Ollivander's, Makers of Fine Wants since 382 B.C."

"Hello, Hagrid," the gentleman behind the counter said. "Got a Hogwarts student, have we?"

"That we do, Ollivander," Hagrid said jovially. "Gohan here's gon' ter be starting his firs' year next week, so we need ter get him a wand."

"Very well, then," Ollivander replied, moving toward Gohan. Something about the man's gaze made Gohan distinctly uncomfortable. Even less comfortable than that was the animated tape measure the man had unrolled, which was now taking several measurements of his body. "Let's see, here," Ollivander said to himself, heading back to the shelves of small, thin boxes. "How about...holly, 11 inches, nice and supple, phoenix feather core."

"What do I do with it?" Gohan asked the wandmaker, gingerly taking the wand from his hand.

"Just give it a wave, my boy! We'll see if you're a good match easily enough."

Gohan did so, and a single pop came from the wand. Judging by Ollivander's expression, a disappointed frown, he had a feeling that wasn't what he was looking for. Handing the wand back, Ollivander looked the boy over again, paying attention to his forearms, which were well-toned from his training. A spark seemed to alight in the old man's eyes.

"Aah!" he said, walking over to his shelves, peering at his wands before gently slipping another, slightly longer box out. "Blackthorn, 11 and a half inches, dragon heartstring. Strong and flexible."

Gohan took the wand from the man's hand and waved it, a gout of mulicoloured sparks issuing forth.

"It would seem we have a match!" Ollivander said happily. "It makes sense, I suppose, seeing how...strong you look. Blackthorn wands almost always choose warriors, and it seems that you've got the warrior's spirit in spades, my boy."

A tear fell from Gohan's eye as he looked at the slender length of wood in his hand. Paying the man automatically, and accepting his change, Gohan continued to look at the wand...a warrior's wand. Just like dad.

"Are yeh okay, Gohan?" Hagrid asked as they left the shop. "Yeh look a bit sad about summat."

"A warrior," Gohan choked out. "He said this wand was for a warrior. It just...it makes me think about dad. He always said I'd grow up to be a powerful warrior, like him. And now I'll never..."

Hagrid pulled the boy close, too choked up to talk, himself. He knew what the boy was trying to say. Hagrid missed his father, too. There were days when he'd give anything to hear his father's voice one last time, tell him that he was proud of him like he did so often.

"I'm sure yer dad would be real proud of ya, Gohan," Hagrid said wistfully as they walked to Flourish and Blotts. "Jus' lookin at ya, I can tell yer stronger than a grass-fed ox, and yeh have a good heart, ta boot, I can tell."

Gohan simply looked up at the large man, seeing the recognition in his eyes. The rest of their shopping trip went by uneventfully; some of the potion ingredients Gohan got looked rather...strange and unsavoury, but he didn't ask any questions. It wasn't until they were at a place called Madam Malkin's, for which Hagrid opted to wait outside while Gohan got fitted for a set of school robes, that the somewhat pleasant atmosphere was interrupted.

"I can't believe they even let your kind in here," a voice drawled. "I guess father was right, standards at Hogwarts really have plummeted."

"Excuse me?" Gohan asked the source, a boy with short, platinum blonde hair.

"My name, mudblood," the boy said haughtily. "Is Draco Malfoy, never forget it. I'll be the greatest wizard of our generation!"

"Okay..." Gohan said, raising an eyebrow at the boy. He honestly didn't know what to make of this Draco Malfoy, other than he could sense a good deal of arrogance coming from him.

"Hmph," Draco said, moving closer toward Gohan. "What? You think you're better than me? Worthless muggle parents probably got lost, didn't they? Bet your father is out there, somewhere, staring all slack-jawed at a goblin, like a moron."

Gohan narrowed his eyes and his ki flared. "My father," he ground out. "Was the greatest warrior the world had ever seen, the strongest man alive. My mother is a good woman. They didn't lose me, I lost them."

"I'd be willing to be-"

"Draco!" a woman's voice called out from the counter. "Stop antagonizing that boy, this instant!"

"You don't order the scion of Malfoy, woman!" Draco barked at the shopkeeper.

"No, but I do," a man's voice said, walking behind Gohan. "I told you to keep a civil tongue, Draco. I am very disappointed in you."

"Father!" Draco choked out in embarrassment.

"Come, Draco," his father said simply. "We have places to be."

"Yes, father," Draco groused, following the man out of the store.

"Please," the shopkeeper said, walking up to Gohan, whose ki was returning to normal. "Forgive me for not stopping that boy, sooner. I'm Madam Malkin, and you're here for your Hogwarts robes, I take it?"

"I am," Gohan said, bowing slightly.

"So polite!" Madam Malkin cooed. "What's your name, young man? I need it for my records."

"Gohan, ma'am," Gohan replied.

"Do you have a last name, Gohan?"

"Oh, sorry," Gohan responded, bowing again. "My family name is Son."

"Family name?" Madam Malkin asked, looking confused for a second before a look of recognition hit her. "Aah! I see! Very well, then, Gohan Son, if you'll follow me, we'll get you fitted!"

"My!" Madam Malkin marveled as she measured the boy. "I don't think I've ever seen a young boy as well-muscled as you! I'm glad you and Draco didn't come to blows, you look like you could lift half of Hogwarts!"

Gohan merely blushed at the praise everyone seemed to heap on him for his physique. Even the normal people on his world were used to well-built fighters like Mr. Satan. Here, though, it was as if everyone expected him to look like some wiry child. As Madam Malkin made the necessary adjustments to his robe with her wand, Gohan couldn't help but enjoy how awed everyone felt at how strong he looked. During those moments, he felt like his father was there, telling him he could be anything: a great scholar, a Super Saiyan, perhaps even both. Thinking on it, he turned to Madam Malkin as she recorded his final measurements.

"Madam Malkin," he began a bit sheepishly.

"Yes, dear?"

"Can you make any other outfits?" Gohan asked hesitantly.

"I can make most anything!" Madam Malkin said with no small amount of pride. "Did you have something in mind, my boy?"

"Well," Gohan said, shuffling his feet. "I wanted a gi, like my dad used to wear."

"Aah," Madam Malkin said gently. "I believe I can help you out, there. As an apology for the...unpleasantness you dealt with in Draco, I'll do it for you pro bono."

"I can't really describe it," Gohan replied, his face more than a little red. "Other than its orange and bears the Turtle School insignia on the back..."

"I have something here," Madam Malkin said, producing a blank sheaf of parchment. "That ought to help. Just place the tip of your wand on this paper and think of the outfit you want me to make. I keep this old thing around for custom orders."

Gohan nodded and pulled out his wand, feeling slightly odd as he placed the tip on the centre of the parchment. He thought about his father, about the brilliant, orange gi that he wore almost all the time. As the details filled in, a front and back view of the gi appeared on the parchment. Gohan teared up a little, he could swear that he saw the faint outline of his father's face in the picture.

"I see," Madam Malkin said, looking at the parchment. "I believe I can make you something like that, just give me a few minutes, dear. Do you mind if I take this?"

Gohan shook his head, not trusting his words at the moment. As Madam Malkin worked, Gohan thought on what life would be like if either Dumbledore or Shenron, whom the people back home would likely use once they realized he was missing, when he got back home. He'd still never see his father again...but, at least he'd have his mother. There were times that Gohan felt that she needed him as much as he needed her. It was so unfair! The people back home needed him! His mother needed him, and he was stuck here, in this strange world!

"A metamorphmagus?" Gohan heard Madam Malkin whisper in astonishment, shaking him out of his thoughts. Without realizing it, Gohan had inadvertently transformed into a Super Saiyan.

"Sorry!" Gohan said, reverting back to normal. "What's a...metamorphmagus?"

"You don't know?" Madam Malkin asked, placing the familiar orange gi on the counter next to his robes. "They're wizards who can change their appearance at will. Just now, your hair was standing on end, and it was golden blonde!"

"I don't think I'm one of those," Gohan admitted. "Its just something...I can do, with my hair and eyes changing colour. My...my dad taught me how."

Madam Malkin merely smiled at him. She didn't want to question the polite boy's assessment...she didn't admit it as she rang him up, but she saw his skin get a bit more red and his already muscular body looked like it'd grown new muscles. She'd met another metamorphmagus several years ago for her first Hogwarts robe fitting, one Nymphadora Tonks, who seemed to despise her first name, insisting on simply being called "Dora" or "Tonks." She'd turned herself blonde during her fitting, when her hand accidentally slipped off the collar of her robes. Madam Malkin didn't know if metamorphmagi could make themselves more muscular like this boy did, but with that strange kind of magic, she supposed anything was possible.

Gohan walked out of the store more than a little embarrassed. He hadn't intended to transform except in private, when he was training. He greeted Hagrid a tad automatically and, their shopping complete, stepped through the brick archway back into the Leaky Cauldron. Flooing back to Hogwarts was as unsettling an experience the second time as it was when they came here. Gohan didn't really get why they needed to hide from these muggles, but he figured that the wizarding world had their reasons. Wizards in his world might work out in the open, but then again, his people were more used to magic, or at least more accepting of it.

"Hagrid," Gohan began as they placed his bags in his private room in the castle. "Is there any place around here where I could...train?"

"Train?" Hagrid repeated, scratching his chin. "I spose abou' anywhere would do. There's lots o' land around, so yeh can make use of it as you want. Just don' be going in the Forbidden Forest; its forbidden for a reason."

"I'll be sure to avoid it, then," Gohan replied, bowing slightly.

"Oh!" Hagrid said before making his way out of the room. "Yer gonna need to go to Platform 9 and three-quarters tomorrow for yer ride ter Hogwarts! That's what Dumbledore says, anyway."

"Why?" Gohan asked, confused. "I'm already here."

"Aye," Hagrid admitted with a shrug. "Said it was a right o' passage, whatever that means."

"I see," Gohan said, still a little confused. "How do I get there?"

"Dumbledore said he'd have Professor McGonagall take ye to the Platform in London," Hagrid explained. "After that, though, he says that she's got ter return on business."

"Alright, then," Gohan replied. "Erm, who's Professor McGonagall?"

"That would be me," Gohan heard an older woman say in a clipped voice. The woman that stood before him didn't look as old as Fortuneteller Baba or Master Roshi, but she was, by Gohan's own estimation, beyond middle age. Her face, though not unkind, looked formal and like it brooked no nonsense. In a way, she reminded him a bit of Mr. Piccolo.

"Oh!" Gohan said, bowing again. "Hello, Professor McGonagall!"

"And hello to you, too," Professor McGonagall said, nodding and smiling slightly at the boy's manners. "I hope you do not mind the little...excursion we'll be undertaking tomorrow. The headmaster insisted that it was important that you socialize with people your own age while you're here."

"I...guess that makes sense," Gohan replied somewhat lamely.

"Now," Professor McGonagall began. "What's this I hear about you wanting to train?"

"Oh, erm," Gohan started, somewhat embarrassed at being caught out. "Its just...my dad was a martial artist, and I don't want to let him down by slacking off in my training."

"A martial artist?" McGonagall repeated back, a tad shocked. "I...see. I suppose that would account for your physique. So long as you do not hurt yourself or go out of bounds, I believe that should fine."

"Thank you, Professor McGonagall," Gohan said, bowing once more.

With that, Hagrid and Professor McGonagall took their leave of the young half-Saiyan who, moments later, made his way out of the castle. Stretching his muscles, Gohan took off into the air, practicing his forms just as his father had taught him. It wasn't like working in the high gravity of the Hyperbolic Time Chamber, but at least he could maintain his current power, if he kept up with his training.

A day later, Gohan and Professor McGonagall flooed to Platform Nine and Three Quarters. The hustle and bustle made Gohan a little nervous, but McGonagall assured him that he was safe before she took her leave, informing him that she needed to help in preparing the ceremonies for the beginning of the term.

As he walked through the crowd to the glaringly crimson train, Gohan, easily schlepping his bags, felt more than a little anxious. It wasn't that he didn't like people, he just wasn't very comfortable in crowds, especially ones this large and...well, loud. Gohan got aboard the train, ten minutes shy of 11am according to the large clock on the far wall of the platform. He took an empty compartment in the rear of the train, one that was blissfully empty. Placing his bags in the overhead compartment, Gohan sat down and let out a heavy sigh, willing his tense muscles to relax. His quiet repose didn't last long, alas, as the door opened and a wiry, red-haired boy peered into the compartment.

"Hey," he said awkwardly. "Would you mind if I sat with you? The rest of the compartments on this side are full."

"I don't mind," Gohan said in a friendly tone.

"I'm Ron Weasley," he said, sitting down after hefting his bags into the compartment with great effort. "What's your name?"

"My name's Gohan," Gohan replied, feeling a little awkward.

"What house are you hoping to get sorted into, Gohan?" Ron asked. "I hope I get into Gryffindor, myself."

"House?" Gohan responded, more than a little confused. "What do you mean?"

"Come on," Ron said with a flippant gesture. "Everybody knows about Hogwarts' Four Houses. Gryffindor is where all the bravest ones get sorted. Ravenclaw's full of bookworms, Hufflepuff is where all the 'team players' go, and the less said about Slytherin, the better."

"I don't know," Gohan admitted with a shrug. "This is all...really new to me."

"Your parents must be muggles," Ron said easily. "S'ok, nothing wrong with that. My dad works in the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office for the Ministry, and he says muggles are basically the same as us, just without magic."

At that moment, the compartment door opened again. This time, a bushy-haired girl looked in at the two boys.

"Have either of you seen a toad?" she asked. "A boy named Neville has lost his."

"I haven't seen one," Ron replied.

"Hmm," Gohan said, stalling for time while he felt his surroundings. Sure enough, he felt the life of a toad at the end of his part of the train. "I think he's at the end of this part of the train."

"Thank you so much!" the girl said, rushing off. A moment later, Gohan spied her walking back through the hallway, toad in hand.

"How did you know that?" Ron asked in wonder.

"Huh?" Gohan replied, sensing life energy had been something he could do since his training with Mr. Piccolo. "A friend of mine taught me how to feel the energy of other living things. Your magic doesn't let you do that?"

"I've never heard of anything like that," Ron replied, shaking his head slowly. "Was he the same guy that gave you that weird getup?"

Gohan looked at his gi and replied, "Oh, no. My father used to wear a gi like this, he got it from Master Roshi when he trained with him as a kid. I had Madam Malkin make me one to...to remember him by."

"Sorry, mate," Ron said, looking more than a little uncomfortable. "I didn't mean to pry."

"Its okay," Gohan responded, waving a hand. "I know you didn't mean anything by it."

"So," Ron began, trying to move past the awkward moment. "You said your dad trained with a master? Like a master wizard?"

"No," Gohan replied, shaking his head. "Master Roshi was my father's martial arts master."

"What's 'martial arts?'" Ron asked a little lamely.

"I know what that is!" the bushy-haired girl from before said, popping in from the compartment door she forgot to shut all the way. "He trained him to fight! Like those monks in China!"

"Do you two mind if we ride with you?" another boy, appearing behind the girl, asked in a timid voice.

"Not at all," Gohan and Ron replied almost simultaneously.

"I'm Hermione Granger," the girl said as she sat down. "And this boy's Neville Longbottom."

"Pleased to meet you," Gohan said with a slight bow.

"I thought it was a little odd," Hermione began as the train lurched into action. "When we first met, erm...I completely forgot to ask your names! I'm sorry!"

"That's alright," Gohan said politely. "My name is Gohan."

"And I'm Ron," Ron added. "Ron Weasley."

"Charmed," Hermione replied, looking Ron's way.

"You look really strong, Gohan," Neville said quietly. "Did that master guy teach you, too?"

"Nah," Gohan replied, becoming more comfortable with the company in which he found himself. "Mr. Piccolo trained me when I was a kid, and my dad taught me after that."

"Wow," Neville said, his eyes wide. "They must have been good, to get you that strong."

A knock rapped on the door to the compartment. Not wishing to be rude, Gohan got up and opened the door, only to see the face of the boy he met in Diagon Alley, Draco Malfoy, flanked by two boys that, while large, didn't look that bright.

"Hmph," Malfoy said with a sneer. "Its you again, the little mudblood orphan from before. I figured you'd have run like your dull-eyed, slack-jawed father would from one such as me."

Gohan gritted his teeth. Something about this boy angered him beyond reason, then it hit him: he acted just like Frieza. His pompous, sneering manner. His love of taunting people he thought were weaker than him. A cold-hearted, sadistic bully.

"Snarling?" Malfoy said, laughing. "Merlin, you truly do act like an untrained savage."

"You know," Gohan said in a chill tone. "I've met people like you before, Draco Malfoy. They never end up amounting to much."

"Oh REALLY?" Malfoy replied angrily. "How dare you disrespect me! Crabbe, Goyle, what do you say we teach this little mudblood a lesson in respect?"

Gohan let his ki flare. As the two large boys moved towards him, he simply held up a hand and used a kiai to push them hard into the opposite wall. Malfoy, for his part, looked on in a mixture of fear and anger, drawing his wand to hex the mudblood with the freaky magic. Then, faster than he could see, Gohan was standing right in front of him, grabbing his wand arm at the wrist and wrenching it up.

"Leave," Gohan said simply. "And never bother me again."

"You..." Malfoy snarled. "Fine. Don't think this is over, you mudblood scum!"

"For your sake," Gohan said, letting the boy go. "You'd better hope that it is."

The two other boys got up, groaning, and followed their leader as he beat a hasty retreat. Gohan closed the door quietly and sat back down, trying his best to ignore the awed looks his compatriots were now giving him.

"Gohan," Neville said in a strange voice. "Did you just do wandless magic?"

Gohan sighed, the cat was well and truly out of the bag, now. "I didn't," he said simply. "I used my ki to...encourage them to leave me alone."

"Ki?" Hermione asked. "Like chi? The supposed mystical force that binds every living thing together?"

"More or less," Gohan admitted. "Mr. Piccolo taught me how to use it so I could...feel other living things and do things like the kiai I pushed Crabbe and Goyle away with. I can't...sense it in large amounts in any of you, but I can feel your life force, as well as some other strange power in you, I'm guessing that's your magic. That's how I knew where your toad was, Neville."

"You're amazing!" Ron gushed.

"Wait," Hermione said, shaking her head. "You mean to tell me that not only do you have access to a mystical force that's, going by what you said, totally different from magic, but that you can feel our magic?"

"That's the long and short of it, yeah," Gohan replied evenly. "Please, don't tell anybody about this. I don't...don't want to stick out more than I already do."

"Your secret's safe with us, mate," Ron said, slapping Gohan on the back. "My dad told me about the Malfoys. Said they only stayed out of Azkaban during the last war because they had a lot of money. According to him, you can't find many families darker than them. Going by what I saw today, I'd have to say he was spot on."

"Last war?" Gohan asked, something about it sounded...ominous, to him.

"Yeah," Ron began. "There was a big war that ended shortly before I was born. According to dad, a lot of people died because of You-Know-Who and his minions when they tried to take over the country."

"You-Know-Who?" Gohan asked, feeling a tad bad about asking so many questions.

"We don't say his name," Neville said quietly. "His followers called him the Dark Lord. He was really evil, and if it weren't for Harry Potter killing him when he was only a year old, he might have won the war."

Harry Potter? Gohan thought to himself. The boy with whom I switched places? How did he defeat a wizard when he was only a baby?

"Does anyone know how he did it?" Gohan asked, well and truly curious.

"Nobody knows," Hermione said in a slightly disappointed tone. "Just that, one day, he attacked the Potters and, the next, the Aurors got an anonymous tip that someone attacked the Potter residence and it was there that they found his body, baby Harry had already been taken into custody by Dumbledore."

"I wonder why he's not here," Neville said. "On the train, I mean. You'd figure people would've made a big fuss about it. From what I read, he'd be old enough now to attend Hogwarts."

"Maybe his parents decided to put him in one of the smaller magical schools," Hermione stated. "I read that there's a lot of smaller schools around Britain. They don't have the top-flight reputation of Hogwarts, but he'd probably get a lot more personal instruction."

"Makes sense, I guess," Neville offered. "I don't think I'd mind going to a school with fewer people, but my gran insisted when I got my acceptance letter."

"Oh!" Hermione said, getting up as the train slowed. "We need to get into our robes before the train stops!"

With that, everyone slipped their robes over their normal clothes. For Gohan, who was more used to wearing a gi, they felt more than a little strange. At least they weren't as...confining as the dress clothes his mother had bought him; at least in these, he could still move his arms. Gohan stretched while the train slowly decelerated, all this sitting had left him a bit stiff. One advantage Gohan noted about his robes was that the sleeves covered his arms, making his physique less obvious to a casual observer. While the compliments felt good, it was still awkward having people gawk at him. As the train stopped, Neville struggled, attempting to wrest his heavy bag from the overhead compartment.

"Hey, Neville," Gohan said kindly. "Want me to lend you a hand?"

"Sure," Neville replied, embarrassed. "This stuff's really heavy."

"I know what you mean, mate," Ron said with a light chuckle as Gohan easily plucked the bag from its resting place. "Surprised they didn't ask us to buy an anvil, too."

"Thanks, Gohan," Neville said gratefully as he was handed his bag. "Wish I were as strong as you..."

"You can be," Gohan said, not really knowing why. "I know a lot of people where I come from that are really strong. My dad's best friend, Krillin, is almost half your height, and I've seen him lift ten tonnes, before."

"Imperial or metric?" Hermione asked conversationally.

"Huh?" Gohan asked, once again confused. "Metric, I guess...we use meters, so maybe?"

"That would be metric, then," Hermione stated simply.

"How much is a metric tonne?" Neville asked.

"They don't use the metric system in the wizarding world?"

"No," Neville stated, a bit mystified. "I don't think I've even heard of it before now."

"A metric tonne and imperial tonne are roughly the same," Hermione began in a tone Gohan knew all too well, thanks to his mother: lecture mode. "Metric is a bit lighter. Ten metric tonnes would be like lifting nearly five average-sized elephants."

Neville's eyes widened in shock. "You think...I could do that?" he asked, awed.

"Maybe," Gohan replied. "I'm...not entirely sure. You have a little ki, so you could use it to augment your strength, but even normal physical training can make you really strong, if you do it right."

Neville looked a bit encouraged by that. Gohan didn't really know what the limits on magic were, if in fact there were any, but a strength-boosting spell certainly seemed possible, if Professor Dumbledore could detect that he came from a parallel world. Gohan, Hermione, Ron, and Neville moved through the train after it'd stopped. Stepping off, Gohan noticed the large form of Hagrid, standing on the edge of the lake, a multitude of boats behind him.

"Firs' years!" Hagrid called loudly. "Over here! The rest o' yeh, go ter the carriages!"

"Hey, Hagrid," Gohan said as they got closer. "What's all this?"

"Oh, Gohan!" Hagrid said happily, scooping the embarrassed boy into a bear hug that would've broken a normal person's spine. "Its good ter see yeh! I'm takin the firs' years across the lake, its Hogwarts tradition! After that, yeh get sorted into yer houses an' then there's a huge feast!"

"Feast?" Ron asked, excited. "All right!"

"That sounds good, Hagrid," Gohan said as the giant man put him down. "Let's get moving, then!"

"How do you know him?" Hermione asked as the four of them took their places in the nearest boat.

"He came to get me," Gohan said, choosing his words carefully. "I guess you could say he, uh, found me, said I'd been accepted to Hogwarts."

"That's strange," Hermione said, narrowing her eyes. "I read in Hogwarts, A History that they send acceptance letters to all new students."

"Mine must have been sent to the wrong place," Gohan offered.

Hermione seemed to accept this, but Gohan could still feel a small piece of disbelief in her. Not that he blamed her, his excuse had been, admittedly, a bit weak. He honestly didn't know how much to reveal to people, but he knew Mr. Piccolo would want him to play it safe until he was sure he knew with what, and whom, he was dealing. While he'd spent a fair amount of time in and around the castle before the term started, Gohan appreciated the grandeur the castle presented at night time, especially from the perspective the boats offered. From here, Hogwarts looked large, awe-inspiring, and no doubt more than a little imposing. The many windows dotting the castle's stone structure gleamed with a warm, orange light, giving the place a distinctly mystical feel.

As they disembarked from the boats, Hagrid led the group of gawking kids up to the main stairs leading into the castle. There, Professor McGonagall waited, nodding fractionally to Gohan before calling the first years to fall in and follow her, which they did readily, no doubt understanding that this was a woman who brooked no nonsense. Up a few more flights of stairs, Gohan found himself in the Great Hall of Hogwarts, one of the places he hadn't been. It was an impressive room: high, vaulted ceilings magically reflected the sky above them. There were four large, long wooden tables each with a banner above them, symbols of their associated house. At the far end of the room, a long table sat above the others; at the centre sat Professor Dumbledore, flanked by numerous teachers. A multitude of candles hovered around the room, bathing it in soft light.

"When I call your names," Professor McGonagall called from a single wooden stool with an odd, pointed, patchwork hat atop it. "You will step forth and place the Sorting Hat on your head. When it calls out your house, you will go to your assigned table."

After that, Professor McGonagall started calling names. Hermione sat on the stool for what felt like ages, shifting uncomfortably at the people gazing at her before the hat called out "Gryffindor." The hat also spent more than a few moments on Neville's head before it called out "Gryffindor" in a tone that sounded like it wasn't entirely sure of its decision.

"Gohan, Son," Professor McGonagall called out. Not missing a beat, Gohan stepped forward and sat on the stool. An odd feeling washed over his head as the Sorting Hat was placed upon it.

"Hmm," the hat said in his mind. "Most interesting...I see things. Impossible things. Impressive things. You're no mere eleven year-old are you, my boy?"

Gohan's eyes widened in alarm, this thing was reading his mind!

"Indeed, I am," the hat said evenly. "Worry not, I will not reveal anything I find in here, you have my confidence," noting Gohan's more relaxed composure, it continued. "There are a lot of conflicting feelings in here, aren't there? You want to be a warrior like your father, but you don't enjoy fighting like he does. You enjoy your schoolwork with your mother, even if it can be boring. I sense the deep love you feel for her and the rest of your friends, a loyalty that burns fiercely within you. But, more than that, I can see...a desire to prove yourself. A very strong desire to become more powerful. You don't seem to think you are, despite the fact that you've saved your world and attained great power. Where to put you...?"

I'm not really sure I can help, Gohan thought to the hat. I honestly don't know that much about the houses, myself.

"Indeed," the hat agreed. "I see that you don't know much about our world. You'd do well in any of the houses. However, the greatest thing I feel in you, your greatest strength is your bravery. When the situation requires it, you rise to the call and give it everything you have. You...are the bravest person I've known since Godric Gryffindor himself, even if you don't think you are. With that said, I shall send you on to your new life as a GRYFFINDOR!"


Harry really didn't know what to think about this strange place, except that it was nice. Mrs. Chi Chi was a nice, if sad, woman; she never seemed to ask him for help with the housework, though he often volunteered. It was strange: cleaning was a sullen, solitary duty that Harry had no choice to perform when he was with the Dursleys. Here, while he didn't always enjoy the work, it felt good to help the woman that had basically taken him in. A few days into his stay, Harry was jarred by a loud knock on the door.

"Wonder who that is..." Chi Chi wondered quietly to herself as she opened the door. "Yamcha? What brings you here?"

"Just stopping by," Yamcha said as he walked in before he stopped, giving Harry an odd look. "This is the kid, huh?"

"His name's Harry Potter," Chi Chi responded, slightly rankled. "He's a guest here, so be nice."

"I'm always nice!" Yamcha cried in a wounded voice before turning to Harry. "How's it goin, Harry? What do you think of Earth, so far?"

"Its...taking a lot of getting used to," Harry replied sheepishly. "Mrs. Chi Chi has been really nice."

"That's our Chi Chi," Yamcha said affably, patting the smiling housewife on the back lightly. "She might have a temper, but she's good people. Ya know," Yamcha continued with a wistful sigh. "You kinda remind me of myself at your age, Harry."

"I do?"

"Mhm," Yamcha affirmed, nodding his head. "Shy, careful...more than a little scared of new people. But," Yamcha added, seeing Harry's quizzical face. "You're a good guy, I can feel it in ya."

"Feel it in me?" Harry asked. "What do you mean by that?"

"I can read your ki," Yamcha responded. "I can't read your every thought, but I can sense your feelings, and I can tell when people are lying to me."

"Really?" Harry said, hardly believing what he was hearing.

"Yeah," Chi Chi began fondly. "It was really nice when Gohan was a baby. Goku could take one look, and tell me if Gohan was hungry or needed changing."

"Ya know," Yamcha said, looking at Harry. "I could teach ya how to do it. Its not really hard, and its really useful. Could even teach you how to fly. I might not be able to bench press a continent like Vegeta, but I'm still strong!"

Harry could hardly believe what he was hearing. This guy, he looked really strong, like some of the bodybuilders he'd seen on the telly when the Dursleys would allow him to watch. His body looked like it'd been chiseled out of granite, and he'd just implied there were people even stronger than he was! And he was willing to teach him something! Harry couldn't help but blush a little and shuffle his feet. Everyone here was so...so kind. Mrs. Chi Chi was sad, but in the short time he'd been in her home, he'd felt more loved than he ever had being Vernon and Dudley's punching bag. Thinking about the times his cousin, brutish thug he was, would beat up on him, anger welled up in Harry's heart. It was hard to feel anything but numb acceptance, back there, but here...part of him was beginning to recognize just how wrong the Dursleys were, and it hurt. That strangers loved him more than his own family, that he'd been tormented by his own flesh and blood, it lit a fire in the pit of his stomach, and Harry had his answer.

"Please," Harry said, a hint of anger in his voice. "Teach me."

Author's Notes

This one has been a very long time coming. I really just couldn't stop for a while, there, shit just kept coming. This will easily be the longest chapter of anything I've ever written and its an intro! I think, for this, I'll keep that as something of a running theme. Unfortunately, that will mean slower updates. Since I have two perspectives (and not just one, as with the others) going on, I'll have more to put into a single chapter, so that'll help. This idea came to me quite a while ago and I thought it'd make an interesting write. Turns out I was correct! I really enjoyed showing Hagrid well and truly furious. Especially at Vernon, one of the most massive pricks in fiction, if you ask me.

That's about it for now...at least, that's all I can think of, currently. I'll catch you guys later for Chapter Two of Interrupta Vitae, First Classes and Eternal Dragons! Take care!