Prologue I: A Beginning.

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore (Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)

Dear Mr S. Warren,

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. We await your owl by no later than July 31.

Yours sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall

Deputy Headmistress

"Try this one." Sihir Warren, a young wizard soon to be heading to Hogwarts for the first time, was handed another wand, his fourth. Sihir barely waved it at all before it was snatched from him. "No, no, no, maybe not that one… how about this?" After a bit of searching, Sihir was given a fifth wand. Another quarter of a wave, and it was taken away. "No, no… hmm…" He turned and walked into the back of the shop, muttering to himself.

"Mr. Ollivander, sir?" Sihir called. "How long does this usually take?" Wands were not a simple purchase, it seemed.

"Oh, as long as it takes," he called back. He returned with more boxes. "The wand must be right for the witch or wizard that wields it, and the wizard or witch must be right for the wand!" The two went through another round of wands, of varying combinations. The twenty-first was given to Sihir. He felt a warmth from the wood, and gave it a wave. Golden sparks flew from the end, showering the wand-maker's shop in light.

Ollivander smiled jovially, and turned to straighten out some of the boxes they'd been pulling from the shelves. "Aha! You see? The perfect wand, no? Willow, eight inches, and a dragon heartstring. Quite short, as far as most wands go…" He paused, looking down at the boy. "Many healers are given willow wands, did you know?"

Sihir shook his head. "My mother is a healer. Her wand is willow, but I didn't know it was common to healers."

Ollivander smiled. "Who knows, young man, you might just follow in her footsteps! So, that'll be seven galleons for the wand…"

"Nervous for tomorrow?" Sihir and his mother, Naima, were eating dinner, the night before he would leave for Hogwarts, a day he'd been both looking forward to and dreading.

Sihir shrugged, a somewhat blank expression on his face. "I don't know."

She smiled. "I was nervous, when I first stepped onto that platform all those years ago. As soon as I found a compartment and sat down, I was fine. I made new friends, and we were so excited! You'll know our friends from Tinworth, so not everyone will be a complete stranger. I mean, Marcus is a few years above you, but…" She frowned, noticing her son's expression hadn't changed. "Not eating?"

Sihir shrugged again. "I guess I am a bit scared." He moved some greens around his plate. "D'you… D'you think anyone will know?"

Naima sighed. She knew what was bothering him. After a long and painful conversation they had a few years prior, Sihir knew all about the crimes his father committed as a member of the Death Eaters.

"No, I don't think so. You have my name, anyway, not… his." She squeezed his hand reassuringly. "You have nothing to worry about. He's in Azkaban. He's not going anywhere. He can't hurt anyone ever again."

Sihir's mother was right. The nervousness Sihir experienced was vanishing by the time Sihir sat down in an empty compartment. Marcus Campbell, his friend from Tinworth, had already found a compartment with his Third Year friends, but it was good to see a familiar face.

"Expecting anybody?" Sihir looked up. A stout boy his age with dirty-blonde stood in the door. Students were milling about, meeting with their friends, loading their trunks and baggage.

"No, please sit!" He said, motioning to the bench. "I'm Sihir. Sihir Warren."

"Ernest! Ernest Macmillan, very pleased to meet you!" He sat down, and shook Sihir's hand vigorously. Sihir recognised the name, a fairly upstanding pureblood family. "Call me Ernie! Do you know what house you're hoping for?"

"I mean, I hope I get Ravenclaw, but you never know."

"Ravenclaw! A fine choice, I hope you get in! Most of my family, the Macmillans, have been in Hufflepuff for generations." He puffed up his chest proudly. "I can trace it back about nine generations of wizards and witches, you know!"

Sihir grinned. "My family tree isn't quite as interesting." Well, for the half you count, at least.

"Are there any seats taken?" A voice interrupted. Ernie and Sihir looked to the door. A curly-haired boy stood in the hall, peeking inside sheepishly. "The compartments are filling up."

"Have a seat," Ernie replied. "Plenty of room."

The newcomer sat next to Sihir, extending a hand. "Justin, Finch-Fletchley. Pleased to meet you."

Sihir smiled, and met Justin's hand. "Sihir Warren. Wasson?"

Ernie introduced himself as well. "What house are you hoping for?"

Justin looked confused. "House? I'm not sure, sorry. I only just found out a few months ago that I'm a wizard."

"Ah, a muggle-born, then?" Ernie smiled when Justin nodded. "It's fascinating to think, you had no idea about magic being real until quite recently."

Justin smiled. "I know, it's all still very strange. They had to send a witch to tell my family in person, I think a professor from Hogwarts... McGonagall?"

Sihir nodded, remembering her name from his own letter. "My friend Marcus is in his Third Year, he says she teaches Transfiguration."

"We thought she was insane, but turned our teapot into a chicken. It was quite a shock for us."

Sihir chuckled. "I'm sure."

A horn sounded, and the three felt the gears of the train start chugging.

"Here we go!" Ernie and Sihir looked out the window, seeing the station zip past, and the countryside approaching.

Justin remained seated. "This isn't some weird, long dream then? We're actually going to learn magic?

Ernie looked back at him, grinning. "That we are, friend, that we are!"

A.N: 4/6/19 More updates, I suppose I'm never satisfied. Chapters 1-3 are still the prologue set in Year 1, and the main story will still be Year 2 and on, starting on Chapter 4.