The Next Morning

"Pipe down, ya bloody 'lil mongrel!" Hagrid barks back at my parents defiant dog relentlessly yipping at him.

I lead the magical giant through my living room, keeping note to avoid all chandeliers hanging overhead. It was in my best interest to avoid my guest's beard getting tied up in one of them.

My shoulders tense as something large shatters behind me. I slowly turn to find Hagrid's index finger in place of where my mother's antique glass vase used to stand.

"Hagrid!" His more than usual rosy cheeks and guilty smile shine through his beard. "Don't touch anything."

"'Er, sorry 'bout that," he says bashfully wringing his enormous hands together.

I ascend the stairs noticing that the expected prominent heavy footsteps behind me were non-existent. Instead, I hear the clanking of a few bottles from my father's liquor cabinet echoing down the hall.

"Hagrid!" I call after him again. The thud of his weighty leather boots slowly make their way toward the stairway as he appears in the hallway holding a handle of Fireball whiskey.

"Do 'yer mind?" he asks unscrewing the cap.

"Well, actually I-"

The beastly man guzzles a quarter of the way through the bottle before I have the chance to respond. He half chokes removing the brim from his lips with an astonished expression.

He holds the label up close to his face smacking his lips together.

"Cinnamon whiskey. Now 'yer on to something, muggles," he says with delight before taking another hefty gulp.


I manage to get Hagrid in my room and immediately lock the door behind him. Hopefully the locked door half his size will keep him from venturing off to find another glass trinket or alcoholic beverage of my parents to violate.. or turn my obnoxious dog into a hamster.

I grab the large suitcase from beneath my bed spreading it open on the floor.

I hear the slosh of the whiskey against the surface as he places the handle on the dresser behind me. "Ay! Who be this?"

Crash.

"Oops." Hagrid bends over picking up the broken frame knocked from my night stand. "Err, I think I know a spell to fix 'er right up." He clears his throat removing the umbrella from his jacket.

"No," I use myself as a human shield between myself and the shattered picture beneath me. "No magic in my house. I think- I think we've done enough damage. Can you please not touch anything?"

As expected, my words fall upon deaf ears as he kneels before me picking up the picture. He lightly brushes the shards of glass from the photograph with close observation.

"Is this 'yer, uh.. 'yer.."

"My parents."

There's a tense silence in the room as the picture intently holds his attention. "Would you like 'teh see 'yer real parents, Hunter?" he asks with a newfound solemn severity in his tone.

My eyes dart from side to side with an uneasy sensation in my stomach. He hadn't brought up the fact I was 'adopted' since he briefly mentioned it at the bar. I was a bit distracted from the trivial topic after witnessing himturn a whole group of douche bags from my school into a pack of wild dogs before my eyes.

"Those are my parents," I insist referencing the picture. "I'm barely even a year old in this."

His hand searches the unlimited amount of hidden departments in his jacket. A wallet sized ripped up photograph hangs between two fingers as he offers it to me.

"That's 'cuz 'yeh were only 5 months old when 'yer parents.. when they, uh.."

My thumb traces the tiny picture in hand. A woman with strawberry blonde hair and bright hazel eyes stands next to a man with long dark hair well kept across his forehead.

I clutch the picture nearing it closer to my face. The woman's head in the photo suddenly appears to turn toward the man, and he looks over to her, as the photograph comes to life.

I aggressively flick it from my hand as if it had just burnt my finger. I look back at Hagrid, stunned. "That picture- it was.. why was it moving?"

"Well uh course it was movin'!" He lets out a hearty chuckle before picking the mini photograph from the floor. "Lily and James Walker, that is," he states introducing the two from the picture.

He offers it back, but I stand in place with my arms protectively folded over myself. He plops on my bed as the other end lifts from the floor struggling to support his weight. "'Yer parents were some of the finest witches and wizards that Hogwarts University had ever seen. And 'yer next, it's in 'yer blood. Dumbledore's 'sher of it-"

"They were the finest?" I question his usage of past tense. "Well, where are they now then? No offense, but if they were such great wizards, why aren't they in my bedroom instead of sending you?"

"'Er.." Another object miraculously emerges from Hagrid's coat as he peers down at the stop watch in hand. "We best get goin' now. 'Yer gonna need 'yerself a wand."


30 Minutes Later

Dog food spills across the floor as it overflows the tiny bowl. I balance my cell phone between my shoulder and head as I hastily empty the rest of its content. My parents would be home in a couple of days, and this would surely hold the little pup over until then.

I multitask, finishing up a bogus voicemail to my mother. I informed them that I would be leaving for USC early. Lacrosse related. This would at least give me enough time to make it to the University.

"So that's what 'yer tellin' your 'rents, eh?" Hagrid questions with a judgmental brow raised. I shove my cell back in my pocket while trying to keep up with his pace toward the front door, hauling the 40-50 lb luggage behind me.

"I don't know Hagrid," I respond in annoyance breaking out in a light sweat. "Do you think the best route what have been: 'Hi Mom and Dad! So, let me re-cap for you. I summoned a poisonous snake to attack my team mate, got my scholarship revoked, met an 8 ft man who does magic, oh.. and he informed me that I was adopted. So, I'm off to go learn more about, and hopefully meet, my real parents who also in fact, do magic. Okay bye now, have a good trip!"

Hagrid stops in place scratching his beard as his eyes scan the ceiling in deep thought. ".. Well, 'er, yes."

Clearly the gentle giant wasn't too keen on sarcasm.

I roll my eyes, passing him out the front door on my way toward the two-person motorcycle parked out front.

"Pit stop!" Hagrid hollers over the loud engine of his bizarre scooter. He pulls over at one of the local dive bars.

What a surprise. After all, it had already been 45 minutes since his last drink.

I yank the helmet and silly goggles from my head before shaking my messy hair in place. Stumbling out of his funky motorcycle, I follow Hagrid inside the dimly lit joint. We pass the bartender and wait staff as we make our way back toward the kitchen.

"Hagrid?" I inquire tapping him on the shoulder. "We passed the bartender," I state the obvious pointing my thumb the other direction.

We reach a dead end. His massive fingers pull a billowy dark purple curtain to the side. His eyes scan the bland cobblestone wall curiously hidden behind it. With three taps of the tip of his umbrella against the surface, the bricks begin to part like the Red Sea. Each brick is invisibly shoved to the side, perfectly stacking into each other like legos.

My mouth hangs agape in amazement.

"Come on," Hagrid casually instructs stepping through the other side of the wall. I make sure to watch my step, closely observing my rapidly changing surroundings.

Apparently the cobblestone wall was some sort of portal used to teleports us into a completely different area. A different town.

A different world.

The endless alley is filled with a swarm of people dressed in similar attire as my tall friend. Draping robes, coats, witches hats.

A numerous amount of tiny shops line each side, each uniquely shaped and designed perfectly in place. A trail of kids run past us giggling, their hands chock full of different colored candies.

The warmth of the bright sun graces my skin. I lightly shiver as goose bumps swarm my arms and legs.

It was the first time in my life that I felt truly euphoric. The first time I felt at home.

The first time I felt that I belonged.

I choose to withhold the roster of questions lined up in my brain as I'd quickly come to learn that Hagrid wasn't the best with his words. It was best to just sit back and enjoy the crazy, magical ride he had generously lead me on.

And I had the innate, ecstatic, feeling that this was only the beginning.

"Diagon Alley." He finally answers the unspoken question turning to me. "Beautiful, ain't it?"

I nod my head frivolously. The grin plastered across my face and untamed eyesight gives me the appearance of a kid in a candy store. A majestic, brilliant, magical candy store.

"I'll meet 'yeh here. This is where 'yeh get 'yer wand." He points to the gift shop on his left that has the outward appearance of a quaint library.

"Where are you going?" I ask with a sudden wave of jitters.

"Gringott's Bank. I have 'teh pick somethin' up fer.." I watch the wheels visibly turn in his head. The uncomfortable pause doesn't help my anxiety. ".. Fer Dumbledore," he slowly speaks while nodding his head, visually pleased with his own answer.

From the little bit I had gathered, Dumbledore is the headmaster at Hogwarts University. The wizard of all wizards. One of the wisest and most powerful to ever roam the Earth.

Basically, someone I never wanted to run into trouble with.

And surely, Hagrid was hiding something.. But if it involved Dumbledore, it quite frankly was none of my business to question.

After we agree on a time to meet, I obey Hagrid's orders making my way into the tiny shop. A bell above the door jingles upon my entry. I'm faced with an older man, probably in his mid 60's, with disheveled white hair and light stubble. His eyes widen once they lock on me. The crazed look in his eye reminds me of that of a mad scientist.

I smirk with an intimidated nod while slowly backing away.

"Well I'll be damned," the elderly man speaks placing both palms on the counter leaning forward. "Mr. Walker."

My eyebrows raise in curiosity instinctively looking behind both shoulders. It takes a few seconds to register that the man was in fact speaking to me, as it was just the two of us. I still hadn't gotten used to the whole 'Walker' thing yet.

"Hello." I awkwardly reply, halting the backward progression of my feet. The front door hits the back of my sneakers.

"Please, please, come in!" His friendly smile lures me deeper into the shop. I inch closer, enthralled by what appears to be millions of thin shoe boxes perfectly aligned behind him. Not a single box out of place. "I've been waiting a long time for this day, you know."

I patiently wait as I watch the man excitedly spin on his heels. He mutters under his breath hoisting himself on a mobile ladder that slides between the aisles of mystery boxes. "Here we are!" One comes flying my way as he tosses it to the surface before me. The ladder clanks as it slides to his next destination. "And another one!" he joyfully adds, launching another one toward me.

I nervously crack my knuckles, unsure of what to do with my hands. So I shove them in my pockets.

"Well, don't just stand there, my boy. Try it on for a size!" he encourages with a thick British accent.

My hand acts quicker than my brain, ferociously pulling itself from my pocket. My fingers tenderly explore the top of the velvety black box. I lift the lid to find an approximately 10 inch, intricately and uniquely crafted, stunning wand.

After receiving another encouraging nod from the man, I gently pick it up between my index and thumb. The dumb smile on my face is impossible to detain.

Following what I had seen in the movies, I point the wand at my destination before assertively flicking my wrist.

The targeted ladder before me viciously slams to one side throwing the elderly man to the ground. I drop the wand as it clinks against the floor.

"Well, don't point it at me!" he scolds.

"S-Sorry." Both of my hands sky rocket above my shoulders as I make my way behind the counter. I help him to his feet, grimacing at the flustered expression directed back at me. "Sorry," I repeat. His lack of response cues me into the fact that I had already successfully pissed off my first wizard. Great.

Perhaps I was reading his expression wrong, however, as I notice his wild eyes are distracted following something along the floor. My attention now joins his, curious as to what was making the rattling noise beneath us.

The wand that I had almost just accidentally assaulted the old man with jolts against a stray dusty box in the corner. It's lively and spastic, similar to my parents dog when it was trying to tell us something. The tail end of the wand impatiently taps against the box over and over before lifelessly collapsing to the floor.

"It can't be." The shopkeeper creeps his way to the pointed out corner. He kneels down picking up the juvenile, now motionless, wand placing it in his pocket. Still crouched next to the neglected box, he peers up at me with a fascinated, almost intimidated expression.

After pursing his lips sending several specks of dust my way, he wordlessly hands over the box. I accept his offer, this time much more cautiously.

There's a warm sensation emanating from within the box that rushes up my right arm. For a brief moment I become light headed followed by an intense adrenaline rush. My fingers delicately trace the uniquely embroidered snake across the velvet exterior.

I do a quick double take between he and the content in my hand, hoping for one more reassuring head nod.

Some indication that I was headed in the right direction for once.

But I never receive it.

He remains stubbornly silent. His previous boisterous and kooky attitude had turned to pensive and inquisitive. But I come to realize that if I stayed around analyzing the old wizard much longer, I'd keep a decreasingly drunken Hagrid waiting outside for hours.

So, in the best interest of Hagrid, I finally gain the gumption to open the box.

Some sort of invisible lazer beam ejects from within piercing through my left eyeball. I yell out in pain cupping my hand over my face. As the box drops to the floor, the wand from inside eagerly levitates into my other hand.

"Curious," the shopkeeper speaks slowly standing to his feet. "The brother wand to this one was once owned by.."

I place my hands on both knees, still holding the wand, as I try to catch my breath. The pain had substantially dissipated. Unfortunately, my eye sight had too.

I wince, gaining focus on the now warped, infrared man before me. The stunned look on his face prompts me to cover my ugly, bum eye.

"Owned by who?" I ask in an attempt to divert the attention from my freakish eyeball.

He leans forward before whispering, "He who must not be named."

"Hunter, what's holdin' 'yeh up?" Hagrid's deep voice startles us. I turn with my palm still flat against the left side of my face.

"I was.." I glance at the wand lightly vibrating in hand. ".. I was just-"

"He was just finishing up," the storekeeper interjects. "Good to see you Hagrid." His previous, joyful persona had returned. He places a hand on my shoulder directing my body toward his. "We've found your wand, Mr. Walker."

"Are you sure?" I ask in the hopes that I could look into the several thousand other options surrounding us. "I'm not sure I like this one." Lowering my hand at a snail's pace, I'm delighted to find that my vision had returned to normal. Everything was back in color with perfect definition.

Everything except..

A bright neon green light glows around the erratic wand held between my fingers.

"We do not choose the wand. The wand chooses us," the elder man informs with a friendly nod. "It was a pleasure in meeting you, Mr. Walker."

"You as well."

Hagrid emerges from the doorway holding a steel ovular bird cage. A beautiful, white as snow owl is perched on the inside examining me as closely as I am it. "Happy Birthday Hunter!"

"Wow! Thanks Hagrid!" I grin accepting the cage from his hand following him on the way out the door.

"Mr. Walker?" The shopkeeper calls after me. I look over my shoulder stopping in place. He stares back at me with a disturbed expression that would burn into my memory forever.

"Do be careful."