(A/N: Illiar and Ameur are characters from my own original story, and sometimes things might not be so clear as to their lives. I'll try my best to explain things when they need to be explained, some things you'll have to wait for until I explain them later, and sometimes I'll completely miss some thing, so tell me if I do. Now that that's out of the way, please r/r! But don't flame too much-I already admit this is not my best writing.)

Disclaimer: Hogwarts, all HP characters and anything else to do with HP are JK Rowling's; but Illiar, Ameur and Myria are mine and only mine *smiles proudly*

"You're a wizard, " the god spoke out in a booming voice to the teenager in front of him. He was a little tired of the conversation going on between them, explaining the same thing over and over it seemed. But to the boy's credit, for being picked up out of the forest into the sky and the god's temple he was containing himself fairly well.

"I'm a…wizard?"

"Yes, Illiar, and so you must learn magic," Ameur, the god, answered.

"This is too much. I was an orphan a few hours ago. And now you say I have a high destiny…"

"You will be sent into the future to learn, to a school of young witches and wizards. You'll be given a wand in order to fit in, along with all else you might need. No matter who you meet, you must not tell them who you are. Or where you come from, or anything resembling the truth."

"How far into the future? What school? How long?" Illiar asked.

"So far into the future that you won't recognize any land. You'll stay there seven years," as he said this, he saw the boy choke and turn pale. "I'll turn your age back, so you'll be eleven when you start, the same age as everyone else. And when you come back to this land, only two years will have passed compared to the seven you'll seemingly feel. The school is called Hogwarts, and you start now."

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Illiar walked on the platform, completely out of sorts. He stopped in his tracks, staring at the great machine in front of him. The scarlet Hogwarts Express stood, now dormant, in front of flocks of people all dressed in robes-wizards robes. Illiar looked down at himself- and was surprised to see black robes with some crest stamped on the front.

He reached in his pocket and produced a long, wooden (though elegant) stick. Must be a wand, he thought. Next to him sat a trunk, and figuring it was his he picked it up and started towards the train. Obviously, he was to take it. Why else would Ameur send him here? Around him children ran: some lugging trunks, some levitating them and some just standing and chatting.

Illiar stopped his thoughts immediately. Not children…remember; you're eleven again too now. He'd been sixteen two minutes ago…this was too much. His childhood was not something he wanted to relive. But now he had magic…oh, the possibilities. If any one began ragging on him now-watch out.

So in slightly higher spirits Illiar walked forward and onto the…machine. He really had no idea what it was. He had a friend that liked machinery and worked with things like that…but nothing was so great as this! Is it machinery, or magic? Illiar walked down a hallway, passing many compartments, still dragging his trunk. Mainly he was just walking in awe, his brain still too numb to think about what was happening. The future was a strange place. He was only snapped out of his senses when another boy crossed close in front of him and into a compartment.

Illiar walked ahead and looked into the compartment the boy had entered. It was empty except for him. Slowly, he continued in and the other boy turned his head. He had sleek black hair that fell into his gray eyes, and had a curious expression on his face.

"Can I join you?" Illiar asked.

"Sure," the boy grinned, still looking curious and somehow just a bit mischievous. He helped Illiar pull the trunk overhead and then they sat across from each other.

"I'm Illiar," he offered, and stuck out his hand.

"Sirius…Black…" he shook Illiar's hand. "First year too?"

Illiar hesitated, not too sure at first what he meant. Ah, of course! He was going to a school, was he not? "Yes, first year."

"You seem a bit nervous," the boy smiled again. "Are you muggle born?"

"Muggle?"

"Yes then, you are. Muggles are non-magical people."

Before Illiar could answer, a very nervous boy stepped in front of their door. He was skinny, with light brown hair and older looking robes. "Mind if I sit here?"

Illiar shook his head and saw Sirius do the same. The boy sat in between the window and Illiar then faced them. "I'm Remus Lupin."

Sirius and Illiar reintroduced themselves.

"So, Illiar, where are you from?" Sirius asked.

"Finland." Where did that come from?! He was most certainly not from Finland! Where is Finland?

"You don't have an accent," Remus observed.

"My family brought me up in London." Where's London? "I was born in Finland, raised in London, and I go to Finland over the summer to see all my family." Inwardly, Illiar was gaping at himself. Where did all this come from? Somehow, he felt Ameur had put this in his mind, and it had just come out. Oddly, he was thankful.

"Your parents Muggles?" Remus asked, unknowingly repeating Sirius' question.

"Non- magic? My dad was, I ne- my mom too," he quickly recovered himself. Tell nothing even resembling the truth.

"Ah, I'm pureblood- long line of wizards," Sirius explained for Illiar's benefit. "You, Lupin?"

"My dad's muggle born," he answered simply.

"How big is this school? That you need to ride- this to get there?" Illiar asked suddenly, wanting to get off the subject of the past.

"You really are from far out, aren't you? Hogwarts is a big castle, magically protected," said Sirius. "Do you know about the houses?"

Illiar shook his head.

"Four houses-Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, Gryffindor, and Slytherin," he said the last name with just a bit of disgust. "Ravenclaw takes brainy kids, Gryffindor the loyal and brave, Hufflepuff, hard workers, and Slytherin the…ambitious."

"Interesting." And it was, to Illiar. He'd never heard of any thing like it. He needed a house for lost souls, then he'd fit in. His father was killed by the Elves, for a reason he knew not, and he'd lived in an orphanage until a god had picked him up in the middle of the Dark Forest. Then he'd been informed that he was chosen, would be a wizard involved in the ways of a god, and be sent into the future to learn his powers! Even now to himself it sounded impossible. On top of it all, he was once again eleven, instead of his full sixteen. And by the time he got home, he'd be eighteen.

(A/N: ok, so this was short and maybe a little boring. Next chapter will be better!)