Thunder boomed in the distance echoing throughout the darkened sky.
My eyes snapped open, and I jolted up. I rubbed by eyes and glanced around. I was in the middle of a cobblestoned alley. All around me there were buildings that I hardly recognised. Where was I? My head throbbed, my left leg couldn't move, and I had cuts all over my body varying in depth. My usual shaggy medium blonde hair was matted with blood, and my already darkish grey blue eyes seemed to be even more dark.
"Jakob!" My aunt yelled at me. "Get back here this instant!"
"You're not in charge of me. I'm old enough to make my own decisions," I snarled. I walked towards the front door, grabbing my backpack from the ground.
"You're sixteen young man. Barely old enough to take care of yourself," my aunt glared. I swung my backpack onto my back and turned towards my aunt.
"Since when have you ever cared about me? It's always about Michael. Look did you see what Michael did? Jakob, you should do more of that," I yelled. "I'm sick and tired of it!"
"Your mum wouldn't want you to do this," my aunt insisted. I glared at my aunt, a fire burning in my eyes. How dare she talk about what my mum wanted. My aunt didn't acknowledge my existence until I was fifteen and my mum died of cancer leaving me with a shrew of an aunt.
"Goodbye," I said. I then opened the door and stormed out into the cold London night. I walked to the side garage where my BMX bike was perched against the door. I mounted my bike and pedalled as fast as I could away from the house that only brought me pain.
In a panic, I quickly felt around me for my backpack. It was right next to me thank god. I zipped open the bigger pouch and emptied out its contents to see what I did have. I didn't bother getting off the floor because I could barely move my leg.
I slowly started placing the contents back into my backpack: a grey hooded t-shirt, a pair of jeans, flashlight, pictures with my mum and my dog before they both passed, four cans of mushroom soup (honestly I don't know), a water bottle, beanie, Swiss army knife, and plaid shirt. The wallet though I left out to see what all I had left in it. My eyebrows furrowed as I realised my phone wasn't anywhere to be found. I felt for the floor around me, but it was missing. What? I had it. I swear to God I had it.
Pushing that thought aside, I opened up my wallet. The picture of me and my dog was still there, but the wallet was oddly heavier. I zipped open the money pouch to find all my money gone, replaced with piles upon piles of coins. I reached into it to grab a coin out, but somehow my arm went further in, at least half a metre. I jumped back, dropping my wallet.
No this can't be happening. God please don't say its happening.
Cautiously, I reached down and took and coin and examined it. It was what I thought it was. A galleon.
Crap, I'm in Harry Potter. Which means, no.
I glanced up and squinted my eyes. Barely a few metres away from me was The Leaky Cauldron.
I pedalled as fast as my legs could go. I couldn't tell how many hours had passed since I left my aunt's house, but it felt like an eternity. I slowed down my pedalling and just cruised down the road. I reckoned it was about midnight since not that many cars were out. I was ready to die to be honest. There really wasn't any other place for me to go, and since I didn't finish high school, there wasn't any jobs I could get that would set me up.
I continued riding downtown near a pub when I heard yelling. I couldn't see what people on the side walk was yelling at until it was too late. I saw a car swerve awkwardly around a bend and started driving straight towards me. Panic flooded my sense as I tried to move out of the way. A car going at about 100 kilometres per hour rammed right into the tail of my bike as I tried to get out of the way. It sent me flying a couple metres in which I rolled onto the hard concrete floor and rolled off into a ditch. My world went black.
I grabbed my wallet and zipped it up and stuck it inside my backpack. I crawled over to one of the benches and pulled myself off the floor. My left leg just dangled limply. In pain, I stood up balancing on my right. I swung my backpack onto my back again and hobbled all the way over to The Leaky Cauldron. Leaning against the wall next to The Leaky Cauldron entrance, I knocked on the door.
I heard shuffling inside before the door was opened by a tall woman wearing emerald robes. Professor McGonagall, I thought to myself. I knew better than to say anything, so I just let her escort me inside.
The Leaky Cauldron was just as I expected. There was a bar to one side and tables filling the centre and a fire to the side. At one of the tables I saw none other than Albus Dumbledore and another man who I didn't recognise from the Harry Potter books. Maybe some characters just don't get shown a lot? The other man looked over at me and Professor McGonagall and quickly got up. The man took out his wand and aimed it at me.
"What are you doing?" Professor McGonagall cried out.
"That's the boy I was talking about. The boy who will aid Voldemort," the man said.
"Garret, that time has not come to pass," Albus said. "Lower your wand." Garret glared at me for a moment before putting his wand away.
"I'm telling you Albus, this boy can't be trusted. When he will turn we don't know," Garret began, but I interrupted him, "What are you talking about? I dunno what the hell is going on here!"
Garret looked at me confused. McGonagall looked at me with her infamous stern look I remembered reading about in the books. Dumbledore just looked at me with a twinkle in his eyes.
"Might I suggest Garret, we continue this matter another day?" Dumbledore suggested.
"Of course Albus, just send an owl to the ministry when you're ready to talk," Garret replied, bowing. With a pop, he then disapperated away.
"Please forgive Mr Garret, he has a tendency to run wild on his theories," Dumbledore apologised. "Please take a seat." I hobbled over to the table and sat down in the chair across from Dumbledore.
"Minerva, might I suggest you return to Hogwarts. Peeves is bound to scare the first years," Dumbledore suggested. With another pop, McGonagall was gone. The room became oddly silent as Dumbledore watched me. I took off my backpack and dropped it to the floor, wincing as it hit my broken leg. "Ah, let me fix that for you," Dumbledore offered. He leaned over and muttered something and my leg suddenly jolted back into place. I rolled my ankle in circles and it was as if I never broke my leg.
"Thank you, sir," I thanked. I didn't know whether or not I should've said Professor Dumbledore, but I thought best if I didn't. "Might I ask who are you?"
"I think we both know the answer to that question, don't we?" Dumbledore replied. I smiled sheepishly. "The more important question is who are you?"
"I'm Jakob Diego Klena," I said. Just as I said it, a loud boom shook The Leaky Cauldron.