Disclaimer: Not J.K Rowling. Not the Yogscast. Not anyone with any claims to anything you recognise.

A.N: Here is the prologue to a co authored ( hence italics and normal) fic we're doing our best to write, but it is going to take about a million and two years (possibly more) so please be nice about that. This prologue is basically just a taste of what's going on and we've put it up to see what interest there is in it (we'll write it anyway) and to see if any of you lot have any ideas that you'd like us to include.

I'm leidineht and I'm CatherineKat so depending where you're reading this, it's on one or other of our accounts. Hope you enjoy! Please review , let us know your thoughts etc.

Hope we put something up soonish,

CatherineKat and leidineht

YOGWARTS AND THE PHILOSOPHER'S STONE

Prologue

Both the post and Hannah arrived downstairs early that morning. She'd woken long before Duncan, as she was prone to do, and had run down to put the letters on the table as usual. Oddly enough, there were two identical envelopes addressed to herself and to her brother. Their names and absurdly accurate addresses were stated in green ink. Hannah tore her's open and out fell a letter, a couple of lists and a train ticket. Skimming the letter as she dashed up the stairs, she burst into Duncan's room and hit the sleeping boy, none too gently, on the arm.

"Meuurrrggghhh…" Duncan groaned into his pillow. "Fuck off, I'm trying to sleep."

"Watch your mouth, Duncan Rutherford-Jones! Anyway, you should really be up - the postman has already been and gone."

Duncan groaned louder and buried his head further into the pillow.

"Wake up, you idiot! There are important letters for us and no, they really can't wait."

"What are they…?" Duncan was beginning to come round and his curiosity has been mildly piqued. He outstretched an arm for his letter, rolled over in bed and read it (squinting all the while as he couldn't be bothered to retrieve his glasses from their place on his desk). When he had finished, he looked over at Hannah, "Guess we have something we'd better tell Mum and Dad then…"

On the other side of Europe, a large tawny owl flew through an open window, narrowly missing the large purple drapes, into the eleven year old boy's bedroom. The boy looked up and smiled a little at the bird as he took the letter from its talons, "Thanks, Teep." He opened it slowly, fingers trembling slightly, as he wasn't sure whether Hogwarts would accept him, him being only half British and living in Sweden. But he was also sure that he could never attend Durmstrang with its reputation for Dark Magic. The letter yielded what he had wished for, though, and the usually sombre boy had a smile at the edge of his lips as he padded swiftly down the winding basalt stairs to tell his parents the good news.

It was an excited scream that woke Zoey's parents on July 31st. Only, of course, they didn't know it was an excited scream and rushed down the stairs to find their daughter, still clad in her mushroom pyjamas, rocking backward and forwards in front of the door, a slightly crumpled letter clutched tightly in her hands. Once they'd read the letter, her parents glanced at each other over Zoey's head. Finally, all the odd "occurrences" made sense. The children who always treated her differently, the way she could always reach presents kept safely out of reach and sight, and the way furniture shook when she was particularly upset. Their minds were made up in that instant that she should go.

"Waaaaaayyyy!" The boy grabbed his purple hoody from the hook on the door and ran to meet the family owl at the end of the drive, pulling his fingers through his gelled hair as he went. He reached her and she settled down on his shoulder. A shout came from the house, "Mark, you know that you don't have to run to meet her - she's perfectly capable of arriving by herself..."

"Yes yes yes, I know, but she has a letter for me!" Mark took the envelope from the owl and beamed as he read the green inked address. He ripped the letter open and grinned wolfishly as he yelled, "I'm going to Hogwarts!" as he sped back up the drive.

"Lewis! The post is here!"

"Coming, Mum!"

The scrawny, bespectacled boy put his book down and walked downstairs, stretching a little. His mum was smiling at him as he reached the kitchen table so he wasn't particularly surprised to see the parchment envelope sitting next to his breakfast plate.

He opened it: 'We are pleased to inform you that you have a place at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

He grinned and began to open his mouth but was interrupted by his mother - "Yes, you can ring Simon. But be quick! Your toast is nearly done, oh, and there's a new pot of honey in the cupboard."

Simon grabbed the phone and punched in his best friend's number. As Lewis answered, Simon yelled into the receiver, "CONGRATULAAAAAAAAAATIONS!" He chuckled as he heard his friend wince.

"I was just about to call you, friend. You got yours then?"

"No, I'm a squib. Of course I've got it, Lewis."

"Excited?"

"What do you think? Lewis, we're going to Hogwarts! Magic and fun and adventure. You won't need to always add 'citation needed' whenever you come out with a dubiously accurate magical trivia anymore! You might actually know things for a fact!"

"Thanks… Friend. Well, when do you want to go to Diagon Alley to get all our school stuff?"

The two boys discussed their plans for the remainder of the summer and Simon rang off, feeling very excited about September.

Kim's letter arrived during breakfast and, as if to give truth to its contents, upon reading it, she made every single one of the full blue and white china bowls rise a full foot into the air and then gracefully flip, spilling the cereal onto the neat patterned table cloth. Her parents read it several times trying to make sense of it, but it made perfect sense ot her. There were other people like her! People to whom her "powers" didn't make her "odd" (mum), "freaky" (most other kids) or possessed by demons (her much loved but slightly eccentric grandmother). This was a place she'd fit in.

"Oi, mam! I'm goin' tah Hogwarts!"

"What's Hogwarts?"

"It's a scheul!"

"Yer goin' tah the one down the road, aren't yeh?"

"No! This is a scheul fer magic. I'm magic, mam!"

"Liam, what are yer on aboot?"

"Come an' have a leuk at this letter!"

"What letter?"

"The one that I got this morning telling me that I've been accepted tah Hogwarts!"

"Liam, I've got no time fer yer nonsense today."

"But mam! Leuk!"

Naturally, his letter didn't come as a surprise (to anyone but himself). As a member of one of the oldest and proudest wizarding families in Britain, frankly it would have been far more noticeable and embarrassing had he not received an envelope addressed in green ink at the end of his eleventh summer. His mother would have been horrified and so, it was with a great sigh of relief that the dungaree-clad boy laid his parchment envelope beside the other post next to his father's place at the table. He'd done as was to be expected; he would not be a disappointment this time.

And so the new first years of Hogwarts received their letters and were accepted into the magical community as students of Witchcraft and Wizardry...