Hiya all! Been doing the Ballet of the Airports, in other words, traveling. I hope to continue updating stories now at the "usual" pace. I desided to venture into the Harry Potter world a couple of days ago, and after reading Harry Potter and the Founding Lords by (shout out) The Basilisk King (epic name by the way, it's quite...venomous :) puns...), I decided to try and write a fanfiction for it. Thus, here we are.
Note: I only watched the HP movies. Will read books soon. Therefore, any and all errors are due to bad-research.
AN: I, sadly, have never lived in the UK, therefore I do not own this lovely book series.
Wolf leaned against one of the brick columns that lined the platform. He had a book bag slung over his left shoulder. His brown bangs nearly covered his Oakley sunglass clad eyes. He scanned the platform, while at the same time twirling a five foot long staff. The staff was a Redwood branch that curled into a spiral at the end, with small leaves growing every few inches out of that end. Wolf wore a green short sleeved shirt, with a red life-guard jacket. A pair of black swim trunks with skull and crossbones checkered over it adorned his legs. He also wore a pair of Ocean Pacific flip flops, and a beach tan. All around him, kids milled about the platform, waiting for the train that would take them to a unique school in the Highlands of Scotland. Wolf drew many a curious glance from students and parents alike, and in turn noticed something strange. No one, not one single person besides him had a staff.
He was interrupted from his thoughts by a loud train whistle. An old fashioned steam engine that chugged slowly into the station, lugging behind it dozens of train cars, the golden stenciled words of, The Hogwarts Express, decorate the side of the midnight black engine. Wolf rose, and halted the fluid motion of his staff, and firmly planted it into the ground. He walked toward the nearest car; however the unstoppable mob of small kids swarmed past him, halting his progress. Wolf grinned. At Westwood Coast, the kids were nowhere near that exited on their first year. As one of the last kids on the train, most of the compartments were filled to the brim. He walked down the aisle until, finding a cabin not fully crammed with people, he knocked.
"Do you mind? This is the first compartment I've found not filled to the brim." Wolf asked, surveying said compartments occupants; two guys and a girl. One boy had red hair and freckles, the other had black messy hair and a pair of glasses. His bangs almost completely hid a lightning bolt shaped scar on his forehead. The one girl had brown hair pulled into a ponytail." I know what your thinkiiiing." A sing-song voice in his head teased. "Shut up." Wolf mentally shot back, grinning none the less.
"Sure." The black-haired boy said, motioning for Wolf to sit down. As Wolf slung his backpack and staff into the overhead storage area, the girl piped up.
"You're an American, aren't you?" She said it with no spite, more with a sense of curiosity, as if she had never met one before. Wolf sat down.
"Yup, born and raised in the US of A."
"So you're a transfer student? From which school?"
"Westwood Coast, it's in northern California, just north of San Francisco." He answered, leaning back in the seat. "Sorry, my name is Wolf, Wolf Stargem; forth year conjurer." Only the girl frowned at that, but said nothing.
"Well, I'm Harry Potter, this is Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger." The dark-haired boy hesitated slightly when he said his own name, as if expecting Wolf to say something, but the American seemed oblivious to the names connotation. "I'm curious. Do you actually use that staff?" Harry asked.
"Of course, what do you use?"
"We use wands." Harry replied, pulling out his. With a flick of his wrist, and a Wingardium Leviosa, Wolf's backpack rose a foot before dropping back down as Harry ended the spell. Wolf nodded impressed. As the train blew its whistle once more, the train began to chug its way toward Hogwarts. The four kids began to exchange questions about the opposite schools, mainly so Wolf would not be completely out of the loop at Hogwarts.
The jet landed in Heathrow at exactly 4:30PM on the first of September, 1994. As it rolled to a stop, its doors opened, the stairs extended, and a man wearing a black suit stepped out and onto the tarmac. To any who knew suits, he wore a Paisley- Jacquard Evening Jacket, valued at $1100. His shoes, Givenchy Richelieu metal buckle loafers, fetched $300 more than his suit. He set off at a brisk pace, followed quickly by something approximating two dozen men. Within five minutes he arrived at a helicopter pad, on which rested a Sikorsky CH-53 Sea Stallion, its rotors already spinning. The man and his men loaded up quickly.
"How long is this going to take?" The man asked his pilot, an Italian accent lacing every syllable.
"A little over three hours, sir." The pilot replied.
"Make it three, to the minute." He fired back, his glare cold enough to sate the sun. Upon receiving their go to take off, the CH-53 whirred north, heading deep into the rugged Highlands of Scotland. As the huge vehicle flew through the evening, the man walked into the cargo area of the plane where his twenty-four men sat, waiting for their commander to brief them. "We are traveling to a 2-5-2 zone known as Hogwarts. Despite the odd name, it is a prestigious school for young Wizards and Witches. Their headmaster is an old friend of mine named Albus Dumbledore, to whom I owe a Life debt." The assembled soldiers looked stunned. They had never known that their Commander owed someone a debt of such magnitude. "Furthermore, we have been called in to defend their school in light of the rise of an arch-lich of great power known as Voldemort. Hogwarts' recent security has been counterproductive, and as such, we are here to provide protection for the school and students; particularly several noteworthy ones who have been 'prophesized' to defeat this Dark Lord." Here the Commander gave a detailed biography of every single student, in a semi-sadistic 'most important to least important' order.
"Needless to say, failure will result in permanent expulsion, not just from Alpha Team, but from the entire Mountain, and furthermore from G.O.L.E.M." The men gasped. Expulsion from the Mountain, it was unheard of. Normally you just went down a team with every failure, but this mission was something else entirely. Something special. "Rellison, you and your unit are in charge of setting up the perimeter and security devices, be careful. Dedric. You take your unit and provide exterior security for the castle. Kaela and Melvis, your units will be in charge of security around the castle. Set up a vault and cameras." Now the fancily clad man turned to six people in the back, who sat apart from Alpha Team. "Ah, cacciatori mito, your job is simple. Eliminate all supernatural threats to the students, preferably before those threats enter the castle. If you do your jobs, Alpha team will not need to worry about pesky dragons, werewolves, and the like." He turned away and surveyed his team as a hole.
"Commander Nero, sir. We have a visual on the castle." The pilot chimed in over the coms system.
"Good." Nero said. "That sums it up. Alpha team, prepare for deployment."
I am good at many things, but chapters without conflict are not one of them. Please bear with my adverbial infested, sleep-inducing, chapters. If you find this interesting in the slightest, follow, favorite, or review. It takes very little time and makes me happier than a house elf at the prospect of freedom.
Ooh, by the way, cacciatori mito is Italian for myth hunters.
P.S. I like commas.
There's one! :D
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