DUMBER'S BLUNDER
By Myrtle the Tyrtle
Chapter One
65 years ago, one war was being fought on all faces of the Earth. It had begun when a German wizard, Grindelwald, decided he would invade a neighbouring country, Poland. From there, the struggle and conflict spread, until all the major magical countries had joined the war. Britain and its allies were fighting the German threat, while the Americans fought blindly at the Japanese after the Asians had performed a mass killing curse operation at Pearl Harbour. The Italians were in the war as well, fighting anyone they could get their hands on.
In the spring of 1945, the great wizard Albus Dumbledore, a teacher at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and the strongest wizard in the British forces, destroyed Grindelwald in single combat. It is still, to this day, unknown what spell Dumbledore used, but every witch and wizard, young and old, know what it did.
It was a spell so terrible and great, it ended up destroying most of Europe, and earned Dumbledore the nickname, "The Biggest Fool to Walk the Earth". Fortunately for him, he never had to hear it, as the blast killed him, as well as most of the wizarding population.
The remainder laid low for a while, but eventually came back out into the light, a diminished race. The magical schools did not flourish as they once had, and education became a self-taught or home-schooled thing, and the magical communities became separated from each other.
Until, one day, when a man stepped down from a mountain in snowy Tibet. He walked the entire face of the Earth three times, and gathered all the wizard families. He took them to a small corner of the planet, down in the South Pacific; a chain of three islands off the coast of the world's most populated Muggle country, Australia, he had purchased from the government years before.
Legend has it, that he stood on a hill bearing but one tree, and crowned himself the King of Wizards.
The King set up a number of magical facilities on the islands, including Brutus' Hospital, the provincial Quidditch and Duelling competitions and, of course, the Crown School of Magical Studies.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
November 15, 2005.
It was rush hour at the Sydney Central Youth Hostel. Bags were flying everywhere as the receptionists were checking backpackers in and backpackers out. To make matters worse, a school group had also turned up.
"We're gonna play in the Opera House," a bespectacled girl with a large instrument case shared with a departing guest, as she waited for the teacher to distribute the keys for their rooms.
"Just dandy," muttered the young man, and went back to forcing his way through the crowd.
Yes, the rush hour was always a hectic time of day at the SCYH. So busy, in fact, that nobody noticed three students break away from the rest of their group and make their way up to the top floor.
Nobody noticed them playing dangerously close to the edge.
Nobody noticed them at all… until one happened to trip and fall over the barrier.
He screamed, so loud it could be heard over the din in the lobby, and everybody's heads whipped around fast. Some stampeded out the door to see what was happening, and once they had, they wished they hadn't.
Several of the women fainted – but not the girl with the glasses. Her green eyes flashed silver, and the falling boy slowed down, and landed safely on his feet.
Later that night, he returned safe from a nearby hospital, with a form to say he was extraordinarily fine. One student, however, who was not at the hostel that night, was a small girl with glasses.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
December 4, 2005.
„Drei Wochen bis Weihnacten!" The loudspeakers in the Berlin mall announced, atop the loud din of the shoppers.
One such shopper was a boy who looked to be between nine and ten years of age. He carried no bags and wore such thin, ragged clothing that the other shoppers took pity on him, offering food and money to the poor boy.
„Der Strauβ", they called him. "The Orphan" was a good name for the boy – he had no other – and it was true, yes, his mother had died in childbirth, and he had never known his father. In any other country he would have been sent to an institution – but in the wake of the 1945 War, Neo Germany had a rapidly failing government, and there were now over one million homeless citizens.
The Orphan stared into a shop window filled with things he would never be able to afford. Suddenly, he caught a reflection of a tall Christmas tree – a Weihnactsbaum – falling towards an elderly couple counting their coins. But then, at the last second, the tree miraculously changed paths and stood tall again.
Most people continued with their shopping, but a few clambered through to the old man and his wife.
And one person took the Orphan by the shoulder, and led him out of the mall.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
December 17, 2005.
"As you requested, Professor," a young man in his late twenties or early thirties said out loud as he wrote it down, "all the Muggle-borns within the requested age bracket have been tracked down and given the information required to find the school come February 6th. Until then, John."
He folded the letter up, and tied it to the leg of a waiting owl. "Take it to Professor Helliwell, girl," he said, and watched the owl soar off towards the isles of New Avalon.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
February 6, 2006.
They were an odd assortment. Seventeen children, all aged nine to eleven, all waiting outside the airport at Aklin City, the capital of New Avalon.
"What are we actually doing here?" asked a girl with bushy red hair and glasses.
"Well, according to the letter I am holding in my hand and re-reading for the two hundred and fourteenth time, we are waiting for a train outside Aklin City Airport," answered a boy with an unbelievably thick nerd accent.
"Well, I know that, but why?" she questioned.
The rest of the group was lost for words. None of them knew why they were there.
"And how can we be waiting for a train when there are no tracks?" she continued.
The crowd behind her mumbled to their neighbours. Some comments of "she's got a point," and "maybe it's a hoax," were heard.
Just then, with a flash of light, a large red steam train appeared out of nowhere, and stopped in front of the children.
The driver stepped out. "Hello, and welcome aboard, this is the…" he checked his watch. "… nine fifty-eight train to the Crown School of Magical Studies. Please step aboard now; do not rush; do not trip; and do not talk to the driver while the vehicle is in motion." He tipped his hat, and stepped back into the engine. The rest of the doors slid open, and the children had no choice but to do as he said.
"I wonder why nobody else can see the train?" asked the girl, as she climbed up. It was true – none of the other people waiting at the airport seemed to notice the large train that was right in front of their noses.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
February 6, 2006.
It had been dark for some time when the train finally reached its destination. Most of the children aboard were now asleep, and missed the second crossing onto an island, but were jolted awake when the train stopped outside a large green field.
The driver's voice echoed down the train. "We have now arrived at the Crown School of Magical Studies. Please exit the vehicle in a safe and careful manner, taking all baggage and belongings with you. Thank you for travelling with Crown Railways; we hope you enjoy the rest of your day."
The overhead lights blared on, and the children, blinded by the sudden brightness groped around for their bags.
They stumbled out into the darkness to meet six adults wearing long cloaks that swished gently around their ankles in the breeze.
Once they were all assembled, the one standing in the middle with a bright blue cloak said, "Please follow us to the main hall of the school," and led them over the field to a cluster of buildings.
It was warm inside the hall they entered; there were several fireplaces on the walls, and a round table in the middle.
"Please choose a seat, and sit down," instructed the man in the blue. The children did as they were bid. The adults joined them in the remaining seats.
"If you don't mind me asking," asked the girl with the glasses and red hair, "what are we doing here?"
"Miss Hawke, isn't it?" asked the man in the blue robe. He continued after she nodded 'yes', "this is a school. At schools in your old home countries, you would have learned things. This school is no different… other than the fact that you are all witches and wizards and we are going to teach you magic."
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------
A/N: If this story was being televised, this would be the time when the ads roll across the screen and you get up to make a cup of tea. However, it is actually a fanfiction, so I will leave you with the following desperate plea:
Please Review! It is my first original fic (not one that makes fun of events in Harry Potter) and I am a bit dubious about its continuation. Let me know what you think!
Myrtle