Chapter One

Many adventures begin with a sudden world changing event. For some it happened with thunder and storms, some with the tragic loss of life, some at the direction of someone else, and for others because of their own choosing. For me it was a combination of the two last ones. It happened on a quite normal day in late august, the last day of the month, the 31st, around midday. I did like any other kid did on a sunny and way to warm day; I sat reclined on my computer chair watching YouTube in my room when I heard a sharp series of knocks from my window.

'What the hell?' I remembered thinking as I paused the video and slid my earphones off my head. It had sounded as if someone had thrown rocks at my window. I quickly jumped to my feet and hurried over in the hopes of catching whatever or rather whoever dared to throw rocks at my house, what if they cracked the glass?!

Reaching the window I peered outside at any and all angles I could manage to find the culprit, but found nothing. Had I imagined it? I was sure I did not. Curious and to make sure I did not miss anything that was in a dead angle I opened the window and stuck my head out. Now I do not know about you but I was not prepared for what happened next. No sooner had I opened the window wide and stuck my head out when I saw a flicker of movement amongst the trees outside. I barely had time to look a brown feathered owl straight in its yellow eyes before it swooped in over my head, and scared the crap out of me.

I fell backwards in my subsequent attempt to dodge the bird with a yelp. It gave out a squawk as it noisily flapped around the tight space that was my room before it managed to realign and swoop at me again. All I had the time to do was clench my eyes shut and flinch as I brought my arms up to protect my face, I was sure it was going to claw me bloody, but none of it happened. All I felt was something land in my lap sounding very much like paper. The owl made another squawk and then silence. The owl was gone.

Feeling incredibly confused at just what the hell had just happened I peered up over my arms, fearing the bird was just waiting for me to drop my guard so it could get a sneaky claw in. Nothing of its presence was left except for a single feather perched upon the floor mat, and a large envelope made from thick and slightly yellow paper with a big blood red and highly ornate wax seal on it. Dumbfounded I picked up the envelope. Studying the wax seal closer.

The seal depicted an ornate coat of arms depicting a lion, a snake, a badger, and a crow. One animal each occupied their own corner of the shield. To say that I was mystified was understating it a tad bit. I did not know what to think, really, here I was holding a letter that for all the world looked like a Hogwarts letter.

Turning it over to look at the letter's front only hammered it home more. Written in purple ink the words:

To Emrik Oscarsson

Little Lake 67, second bedroom on the right

Well, that was… oddly specific. I scratched my head and stood to my feet. This was one elaborate prank… how did they get an owl to do this, I wondered and closed my window. I sat myself down on my computer chair.

My heart was still not calm from my encounter with the bird.

I turned the letter over, brushing the coarse paper with my thumb; hesitating only a moment before I broke the seal, and pulled out two pages of the same thick paper as the envelope, as I expected to find. A postcard slipped out from the folded letters.

The picture on the postcard was that of the Leaky Cauldron's pub-front. If the golden letters above the bay window was anything to go by. On the backside only two clock numbers was written;

12:45pm

10:30am

Raising a confused brow I dropped the card to my desk and shifted my attention to the letters in my hands and started to read:

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. Oscarsson,

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 the 1st of September.

Yours sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall

Deputy Headmistress

'Could this be real?' I asked myself in disbelief. I knew of course it couldn't be, but it did not stop my more playful part to entertain the thought. Even if it was true I spotted the most glaring flaw. It was 2016, Hogwarts did not reopen until the year 2017, and McGonagall was the Headmistress not the deputy. It simply wasn't possible considering those two points, I was also well past my eleventh birthday too… by a good handful of years. It did not however stop me from reading through the second letter, it was a simple list, the one I vaguely remembered from the first book, detailing all the school items I supposedly would need if it were all true.

Tomorrow was the first of September. If this was true then this time tomorrow I would have been sitting on the train towards Hogwarts.

I sighed dreamly, what I wouldn't give to make it all come true.

My eyes idly looked at my computer clock. 12:43. Why was there times written on the postcard? I picked up the unassuming piece of paperboard. Could it be… no it couldn't… could it?

12:44. I looked up at the clock again to notice that I had less than a minute, if I was right. My mind went blank as my heart jumped in my chest. Money, I needed money!

Scrambling to my feet, sending my chair crashing to the floor, I threw myself out of my room and into the hallway. My wallet was in my jacket.

My hands barely fisted a grip on my jacket when the world around me made a loop de loop.

I felt my breakfast make a break for it as I was pulled haphazardly through what felt like a far too small hole. I felt how my body twisted as my legs were thrown up and over my head. Then to my surprise my feet struck ground. Unprepared for it and still feeling like I was hanging upside down, I fell, no, more like, I was thrown. My butt made painful contact with hard stone.

A moment after I heard whispers around me. Looking around I noticed I was sitting on the sidewalk of a busy street. The pedestrians around me must have seen me as some had stopped to look at me.

"Are you alright, young man?" an elderly lady asked, leaning down.

"Uh," I intellectually began, "yes, yes I'm alright."

The lady's wrinkled face wrinkled even more as she smiled down at me. Her eyes fell down to my hand and her eyes widened.

"Ah, shopping for school, I see." the lady's lips split the wrinkled face into a toothy smile, "A little late, don't you think?"

She gave a chuckle as she ambled past a very confused me, and into, to my slight surprise, the Leaky Cauldron. The pub's front an exact copy of the postcard in my hand. It was only afterwards, after thinking a bit, that I took note of the woman's clothes, it was not your standard run of the mill dress, nope. But a good to honest robe, not a bathrobe robe, but a wizard's robe… or witch's…

I scrambled up onto my feet, dusting off the bit of dirt that had managed to cling to my trousers. I did not notice anything wrong until I picked up my jacket, happy to see it made it through with me. What was wrong? What was wrong was when I noticed how big my jacket had suddenly become. It was easily twice, if not even thrice the size I remember it being.

I noticed my own reflection in the bar window, what I saw made my heart skip a beat. It was me, me from twelve years ago. I could not have looked much more than eleven years old.

What an adventure this would be! I could not help but grin at my own reflection. If this was all a dream, then I hoped I would never wake up and realize my cruel fate.

I threw my jacket on, it was little better than an oversized cloak on my shoulders. And stopping only long enough to make sure my wallet was still with me I nearly skipped my way into the pub.

And as soon the door shut behind me everything went deathly quiet. The few head there were turned to study me. Wrinkled and wizened faces peered from their seats. One really old gnarly and bald man stood behind the beaten bar, cleaning a glass, looking at me with a suspicious glare. Tom, I guessed.

Frozen I stood there and took in the dark and weathered looking bar, only a few candles and gas lamps gave off light, bathing the hall in a gloomy light. Swallowing the lump in my throat and steeling myself I weaved my way through the tables towards the bar.

"I… where do I go, to get to Diagon Alley?" I asked Tom.

The old man stared down at me before grinning a toothless grin down at me.

"That door over there, it leads to the back," he pointed a thick and scarred finger towards a heavy wooden door, just off to the side of the bar table. It was so out of the way it blended with the rest of the room.

"Ah, thanks." I gave the man a nod, but I stopped myself mid step. I how was I supposed to get through the gate… I don't have a wand, nor do I know what bricks to tap…

"Um, excuse me, but," I looked down a bit, it was hard to look the man in the eyes, "can I get help to… you know, the password."

In no time I stood in the tightly packed alley, its winding, twisting and turning road packed to the brim with wares from the shops, the people and signs.

I said goodbye to the gnarly old barkeep, who just smiled and went back inside. I had been mesmerized when the bricks in the wall shifted and folded into themselves to create the portal between the muggle world from its wizarding kin.

I stood there stunned, just barely taking note how the wall reformed behind me. The stuff in front of me was beyond description, because if I would try I would be here for hours. I saw cauldrons, baskets and buckets of what I could only guess was potion ingredients, flowers, books, clothes. Cages with a myriad of animals, birds and cats mostly. I saw a rustic looking ice cream shop just as the alley bent out of sight.

Hundreds of different trinkets laid splayed on mats, was stacked in shop windows, and out of the corner of my eye I spotted brooms. A neat, sleek and polished shaft of mahogany was displayed inside the shops window.

Where should I start? There was positively an infinite options to choose from. I wanted to see it all, touch and pet the animals, inspect the potion shop, peruse the literary library of books in the bookshop. Sample the food I could see, and ask one and a million questions to the different vendors down the streets about all the gizmos they were selling.

Taking a deep breath I calmed myself down. 'Focus boy!' I had a whole shopping list to get through first… so yeah! The letter…

I felt my spine run cold as I patted my jacket down, trying to find the Hogwarts letter. It was not on me…

'Great, just great!' I cursed as I remembered forgetting to grab the shopping list. But it shouldn't be that hard to remember would it?

But first I needed to exchange money into galleons. So I had to head for Gringotts, wherever that was…

Taking note off the shops I started noting down different shops I believed I had to visit, like Potage's Cauldrons, I knew I needed a cauldron for potions. Madam Malkin's Robes For All Occasions, school robes… including some for winter wear, and Flourish and Blotts. I kept my eyes out for Ollivanders wand shop but only found a second hand shop that had old and worn wands on display… I did not intend to have my first wand be a second-hand, I would simply not stand for it.

Rounding the bend, circling past a street peddlers stand I came to see Gringotts, its huge marble architecture stood out like a sore thumb in the alley, not only being the centre focus in a fork in the road it was also the only… white building in the entire alley so far. Its burnished bronze doors practically shining, was polished into a mirror like state.

Two short guards flanked the door. Goblins; Long pointed ears, squat brows and an equally long and almost sharp looking noses, stood out like the sun. They wore thick cloaks over their clothes, suits that would have made its home back in the late nineteenth century. On their heads they wore broad brimmed hats. They were quite the curious sight, and I could not help but stare as I ascended the stairs up to the Gringotts bank.

The guard I looked at glared back with sharp and beady eyes, and sneered as the Goblin pulled the brim of his hat down a bit, adjusting it so the sun did not get onto his face as much.

One of the guards snapped his fingers and the door opened for me. Revealing a set of silver doors inside, polished to the same gleam as the outer doors. Engraved a message I was expecting:

Enter, stranger, but take heed

Of what awaits the sin of greed

To those who take, but do not earn,

Must pay most dearly in return.

So if you seek beneath of floors

A treasure that was never yours,

Thief, you have been warned, beware

Of finding more than treasure there.

It gave me shivers as I knew just what awaited those brave, or foolish enough to try. Goblins were anything but friendly when you offended them.

I pushed the doors open, they closed quietly behind me.

Inside was what I expected of an ancient bank. A vast marble hall, counters stretching the entire length of the room. Hundreds of gnarly, fair skinned, goblins manning them. Despite thinking the bank saw little traffic during the normal days I was wrong. The floor was almost covered in robed and suited witches and wizards. There was no rhyme or reason to the chaos as I saw the mages run to and fro, some standing in long twisting lines to get to the tellers, while others just sipped up to empty ones and some going completely ignored.

Goblins counted massive piles of coins, others inspected items from wands to fridges, others sat in silent boredom while others looked two steps from a heart attack by the frantic traffic of wizards.

The room was drowning in a cacophony of voices, from small talks about the weather, to business ventures, to politics.

I stood there taking it all in for a while, a bit overwhelmed at the sight.

Shaking my head, I made a beeline for the closest empty stall and asked with trepidation and a lot of nervousness, at who I had to talk to to exchange muggle coinage. While the bored looking goblin looked up with anticipation, he pointed a long pointy finger down the rows and spoke in a snivelled voice,

"Down the row, four stalls, behind the pillar."

I thanked the goblin and left to press myself through the throng of people, getting bumped back and forth and even got an angry shout after me as I cut past one of the waiting lines until I managed to tackle my way to the small voided stall.

The goblin behind the counter studied a set of muggle bills, euro's I think they were. The goblin had a crown of greying hair, framing an shiny bald top. It's nose splayed and almost curling back towards his forehead. A thin mouth hiding a row of sharp thin teeth. I was unsure if brown and grey was normal teeth colour for the goblins.

The teller set down his object of interest to look down at me from his elevated position.

"Yes?" came the short and nasal inquiry.

Unsure of what to say I emptied my wallet onto the counter. I saw the Goblins eyes light up in enthused interest as it spied the no small amount of cash I had dumped before him.

"Swedish Crowns," the goblin slowly breathed. Its small squint eyes locked onto me. The Goblin swept his eyes over me before he again asked: "Well?"

"I'm here to exchange everything into wizarding coin."

At my words the Goblins thin mouth twisted into a horrible mockery of a toothy smile, as his predatory eyes looked to have sharpened. It used one of its kinds long, almost claw like fingers, and sifted through my money.

"Hn, three-thousand, five-hundred, and eighty-seven crowns…" It looked up at me as if asking for confirmation. The goblin swept the entire pile off, behind the counter, and into a drawer with a magic hand wave. He picked out from another drawer a sizable knobbly poach that clinked enticingly as it was set onto the counter. "Sixty-four galleons, four sickles and eight knuts. Is that all?"

I took the bag and nodded.

"The door is that way." The Goblin said dismissively and pointed back out towards the entrance doors. I could not help but chuckle at the pure rudeness and gall of the creature. No wonder why Wizards did not like goblins much.

I went to walk away but was brought to a halt. Galleons were made of gold weren't they…? I had read theories about it being worth more than what you had to pay for them. I could not help but ask the teller how they tackled that.

I turned around and asked: "Um, what stops me from going back out to the muggles and exchanging this," I jingled the bag, "for more money?"

The Goblin looked up from one of my, now his, five hundred bills. That goblin likes his muggle cash.

"You could try," the goblin sneered, his face twisted into a confident mockery of a grin. His tone spoke all. You should never try and swindle a goblin, noted.

I quickly stuffed the heavy poach into my oversized jacket, afraid that the goblin might just take it back, and pushed my way out into clear and less stuffy air outside the bank.

It took me close to twenty minutes to find Ollivander's wand shop. For being one of the best wand makers the shop was awfully deftly hidden, stuffed behind a corner of a dead end, the name "Ollivander's" marked in swirling golden letters above the inset door. I had to ask a wizard who confusedly pointed me in the right direction, he sounded almost as if he was trying to figure out if I was playing him for a joke or not… at least until he looked at my clothes more closely.

I strode inside, a small doorbell jingled as I entered. The store was… larger than the outside would have suggested, the room had just a small greeting spot at the front, a small spindly chair sat in an empty corner by the shops window. Rows upon rows of shelves, stacked to the roof with thin but long boxes of all shapes, colour, and sizes, occupied the rest of the room, only leaving enough space for a small door leading into the back of the shop, probably where the old wand maker lived or made his wands… maybe both, who knew?

The small door creaked open for a frazzled haired old man, pointed chin and squinting eyes, with a small set of reading glasses riding low on his nose, to step through.

"Ah, welcome, welcome," the man I could only assume to be Ollivaner himself spoke softly. "A new wand, for a new Hogwarts student I presume?"

"Yes," I said, but caught myself from being rude and added, "sir."

"A bit on the last second too, hmm?"

I could only nod to the man.

"Wand arm," the man immediately asked and produced as expected a measuring tape. I extended my right arm, which got ceased and measured from, curiously all fingers, my underarm, upper arm, and even the width of my hand. And with a whispered "I see," from Ollivander he flitted away down one of the aisles. The tape continued on its own, as it fluttered around, measuring the circumference of my hand, and each finger, for each joint too.

Ollivander pulled out boxes, replaced some before even opening them, but most was inspected thoroughly before being put back.

The tape had seeming become bored with measuring my hand and snaked its way around my waist, and chest before slithering down to measure my legs.

"Try this one," the old wand maker said suddenly beside me and thrust a wand into my still extended hand, "fir, and Kneazle whisker, eight inches."

It was a thick and squat looking wand, smooth and tapered towards the tip. I looked at it for a mere second, waiting for something to happen when it got ripped out of my hand by Ollivander who mumbled something dismissively.

I kicked at the measuring tape when it tried to wander up my trousers; it learned quickly and stopped and settled on snaking its ways around my ankles instead.

"Maybe this one then," I got a dark looking wand, longer and with a bit more knobbly branch rings. It was taken away before I even got to take a closer look.

Before I could even blink yet another wand was set in my hand. But this time it was different. From the moment the wand got placed in my fingers I could feel how it had judged me, and found my ownership acceptable. It was almost a warm feeling spreading at the touch, its smooth and polished wood burrowing into the palm of my hand. This wand had a round ended, straight-backed and an almost pear-shaped handle, it curved into a hooked finger guard. The wand's shaft as thick as his finger but tapered towards a fine rounded point.

"Cedar wood, and a core of dragon heartstring, nine and a half inches," Ollivander spoke softly, reverently. "A wand of character, you'd do well to care for it. That will be seven galleons."

I studied the polished wand, it almost shined in the poor light of the shop. So, this was a wand… I could understand why so many considered them semi-sentient. So I decided to ask a few questions of off the wand maker about caring for wands.

After exchanging a few more words, I left the shop seven galleons lighter. That left me with fifty seven galleons and a handful of sickles and knuts. Ollivander had been a bit surprised when I asked about caring for the wand, at least he looked surprised. It was not that difficult, just had to rub it with oil and wax it now and again to avoid splinters and unnecessary damages. The oil to keep it moist and flexible, the wax to help keep smooth and, protected from wear and tear.

Now my wand rested safe and secure in one of my jacket's inside pockets.

Next on my list was school books, so I backtracked my way towards Flourish and Blotts book store.

It was a squat little not much larger than Ollivander's wand shop. Every available place stacked high with books, in a dishevelled chaos. There seemed to be no rhyme or reason to the organisation of books as titles like, Margarhet's cooking, lied on top of a pile of very old dusty tomes reading: Harrington's adventure's book one, two, five, and sixteen. Only a small thin walkway was cleared for customers to brush their way past. A broad counter table sat stuffed in front, almost between, two overflowing bookcases.

An old dark robed wizard in a broad brimmed, and pointy, hat sat with a cup of steaming… something in his hands, behind the counter.

He looked up, surprise playing on his face as I entered.

"Are you not a bit young to be wandering about alone, day before school start?" He asked.

"Nope, I'm here to get the Hogwarts school books."

The older man sighed, and gestured to the shelves

"You can find them around, just put the books back in their place please." He sounded nearly defeated as he said it.

"Um… I lost my book list, I was hoping you could help me." I winched as I said it, the shopkeeper sent me a death glare.

The shopkeeper rose to his feet grumbling none too happily to have to spend the energy.

Thirteen galleons less and, I now had my arms full of heavy tomes. And damn they were heavy. It did not help they were in the way of my face, obscuring my sight.

That reminded me, I'd need a school trunk, and I knew I would be needing, not only for my books but, the cauldron, papers and pen, ink too. School robes and other wizardry clothes, a long sleeved t-shirt and a pair of jeans did not fit in with wizarding kind.

I had to part with another five galleon, and fourteen sickles, for a plain Hogwarts standard trunk.

Now I had only thirty-four galleons, seven sickles and eight as of yet untouched knuts. The only things I saw costing knuts were free weight items, like potion ingredients and certain foods… I could only guess what they really were used for. For all I knew those writhing bug likes things and stuff was candy.

Books, wand, and a trunk to stuff it all in. that was just the surface of what I needed, and I weren't even sure I knew or remembered everything I needed to buy. Looking up at a clock, in a clock shops window, tracking down the one machine who's hands coincided with most of the rest, I still had an hour or so left until four o'clock.

Robes was probably a good start, I don't know how long it took to fit robes, even less so an entire wardrobe and protective gloves. Shoes would also be something to invest in… I only hoped I had the coin left for the cauldron, and whatever other potion equipment I could manage to dredge from memory.

The answer to how long it took to fit robes? Almost none at all; It all took twenty minutes on the spot for the experienced manager and her assistant to measure, charm and transfigure my new robes. I had now as large a wardrobe my trunk allowed… which was more than the first glance would have you believe. I had a pair of fancy looking dragon-hide gloves, riding far up the arms to boot. Three pairs of working robes, Hogwarts black. Winter cloak with silver fastenings. A nice scarf for cold windy weather. Three brimless and pointy hats. Beside the grey and orange runners I wore I now had some sturdy boots for winter and outdoor work, a pair of office looking shoes and seven different socks with a lot of curious patterns and prints on them.

Beside that I also had a few more casual under robes, shirts and pants. Two woollen vests got thrown in there too for the coming colder weather.

It stung to hand over most of my remaining money.

I now had only fourteen galleons to my name. I really hoped the school standard potion stuffs did not break my economy…

I eventually found myself sitting in the leaky cauldron, dinner eaten and now simply waiting for the last few hours to pass before bed. There I sat, spinning my last golden goblin coin. My cheek resting against the worn table, a slight hint of spilt beer could be smelt. The table was clean, but it was obvious the smell sat in the wood and not on it. Wonders of scouring charms.

My feet hurt, my legs ached and my arms felt like lead after conking around on my damn trunk all day, an object that had grown all the more heavy as the last few hours of light waned. I did not even have the time to taste that ice cream I had set my eyes on earlier. Not that I had the will for it as my funds all but vanished before my eyes, putting me in a right mood that made it hard to summon any more enthusiasm.

Beside the pewter cauldron, a set of brass scales, and a few phials. At the last second by chance I remembered to by a telescope. Caught myself on my way towards the Leaky Cauldron, and as I passed the astronomy shop's window, and saw one of the telescopes it hit me like a rock that I had forgotten about them.

But afterwards I was sure I had gotten everything I needed... it would be embarrassing to arrive at Hogwarts missing the materials needed. I don't know how I managed to get the acceptance letter, much less understand why, and it would not stand to insult whoever did this by squandering the opportunity, and underperform.

I tore my eyes from the gleaming coin and peered through the dim light of the pub.

Nine-thirty said the old clock on the wall. I retrieved the small post card and read it.

12:45PM

10:30AM

Less than thirteen hours left… then it was off to Hogwarts.

I could not help the small smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. Some dreams did seem to come true after all… unless I would wake up tomorrow back home, in my own bed as if nothing had happened at all…

And there went my smile. I did not like the idea that my dream would end up just as a cosmic joke.