A/N: Thanks to everybody so much for reading the first chapter of this! Here is the second. Slightly longer but not as long as I'd like, so hopefully when the story continues I can keep on adding to the word count. Please enjoy and R&R :)

(Past, November 8th)

"Shouta! Shouta!"
A loud rapping on the wooden door to Aizawa Shouta's room woke up said boy. His scraggly black hair was tangled in random places, obscuring his vision. All Shouta could see was strands of his own hair passing in front of his eyes, the dark room with streams of sunlight managing to break past the heavy navy blue curtains, being the only element providing a semblance of light in his room at the moment. What was going on? Shouta tried to sort out his thoughts, remembering why his mother was knocking on his door, her voice filled with excitement. But why? Glancing over to the side table next to his bed, Shouta saw that his alarm clock read 7:00 A.M. in big, right red numbers. Sighing deeply, Shouta pushed the mop of hair out of his face and pushed his blankets off of his body, slowly and reluctantly. Not being a morning person, Aizawa's head was pounding from just waking up, his thoughts and body feeling hazy. Just as this feeling was passing, another round of loud knocks brought back the headache.

"Aizawa Shouta, wake up right now and come downstairs!" His mother called once more. Waiting a few more seconds, Shouta finally swung his feet over the side of his bed, resting them on the cool wooden floor, giving a shock to wake him up even more. Shouta was very tempted to wrap his blanket around himself and curl up into a ball on his bed to fall asleep once more. Anytime before eight in the morning was way too early to wake up. However, he didn't want his mother to pound on his door for the third time, so Shouta summoned all his strength to push his body off of his comfortable mattress, swaying slightly as he stood before gaining solidity to his stance. After putting on his slippers, Aizawa shuffled over to his closet, opening it to contemplate what to wear for the day. Why did his mother sound so excited? Pulling out a pair of black jeans and a plain black t-shirt, the young Aizawa quickly changed out of his pajamas and into his clothes. He then took his time, leisurely making his bed and throwing his pajamas into his laundry basket. Finally, he ran a comb through the thick mess of hair on his head, tugging roughly at certain knots and tangles that wouldn't let up. Pausing as he stared at himself in his mirror at his desk, Aizawa was still confused as to why his mother was so adamant to wake him up so early. He did have elementary school today, but usually, he didn't wake up until eight. As far as he knew, it was a normal Tuesday. Wait, Tuesday, in November…it was the 8th. The 8th of November. Before Shouta could continue with the horrifying revelation, he heard his mother's footsteps approaching his door once more, one foot after the other coming closer and closer, taking the stairs at an almost anxiety-inducing pace, as if she was tormenting him without even saying another word. Leaping out of his desk chair, at a very fast pace that most would never expect out of the nonchalant boy, Aizawa jumped and hopped over to the door, struggling to put his socks on. Once he reached the door, he yanked it open, meeting the irritated face of his mother, her dark eyebrows furrowed together in disappointment at her son and her hands rested at her hips.

"Aizawa Shouta, how many times have I had to come up here? Hurry up and get downstairs young man, I'm sure you know why." With that she turned on her heels, her black cloak flowing behind her. Of course, even on his day, she still had work. In the line of work that Shouta's mother dealt with, there was no day off. Stepping out of his room and closing his door behind him, Aizawa silently followed his mother, keeping his head level as he stared at her back, her long black hair tied into a bun on her head, but a few strands broke free, swishing left and right with her cloak with each step. The white walls of the upstairs were decorated immaculately, they could easily distract anyone who walked the halls with the supreme portraits and pieces that hung off the pristine walls. But for Shouta who witnessed this every day, morning, evening and night, simply ignored the movement in the pictures. His sight was fixated in front of him, the imagination of his mind taking him past his mother and down the stairs to the living room where what he assumed, presents, and more importantly letters, were on the table.

After making it down said stairs and to the expected room, Shouta was not surprised to see about five boxes of varying sizes on the table. But what caught his eye were three envelopes that were placed almost too perfectly front and center on the table. This was the reason for his mother's excitement this morning, forcing him to wake up at the ungodly hour of seven in the morning. Today was a day that Shouta was dreading. It was November 8th, 1985. Also known as Aizawa Shouta's 11th birthday. Today was the inevitable beginning of the rest of young Aizawa's life. Being the son of two pure-bloods, there was no doubt that Shouta was bound to inherit his parents' magical prowess. His mother, a strong witch who worked for the Ministry of Magic, and his father, an auror who made a name for himself in the early years of graduating, met and fell in love at their school of choice. Ironically (not really), said school's letter was the center of the three that resided on the table in front of Aizawa's eyes.
On the left was a letter from Koldovstoretz, a school in Russia, which Shouta knew that his parents placed just for the appearance that they "supported" any choice that he made. The letter on the right, from Mahoutokoro School of Magic, here in Japan, held the same message in Shouta's gaze. The true message lay in the center of this trifecta. Aizawa already knew the answer was predetermined for him. He could say he wanted to go to one of the other two choices, but with the letter of his parents' alma mater laying in the center, holding the same intensity that Shouta stared at it with, he knew that everything after today, every choice of his, was inevitable. The cursive script on the front addressed the letter to him, at the address of this house, his home, and finally to his room. Something that he always found particularly weird after hearing about it from other kids who attended the school. Reaching forward, Shouta grasped the letter, hearing his mother's sharp intake of air, her anxiety and excitement almost taking Shouta out of his thoughts for a moment, only a moment, before turning the enveloped parchment over, staring at the dark maroon wax, imprinted with the seal of the magic school in Scotland; Hogwarts. Breaking the seal, Aizawa turned to his mother, easing her stress as he took out the parchment, reading the finely written words addressed to him.

"Dear Mr. Aizawa Shouta,
We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a light of all necessary books and equipment. Term begins on September 1st, 1986. We await your owl no later than July 31st.
Yours sincerely, Headmaster Nezu."

Placing the letter on the table, Shouta looked at his mother, who returned the look with an expectancy of an answer. Resisting a sigh, Shouta simply nodded his head, hearing his mother clap his hands together, he gave a small smile, trying to support his mother's happiness for him. She then stood up, walked over to him and, being the short lady she was, wrapped her arms around her son, squeezing him.

"I'm so happy for you. Happy birthday, Shouta-kun," his mother said, kissing his forehead and smiling at him proudly, cupping his round face, gently and lovingly rubbing her thumb back and forth on her son's cheek.

"Thanks, okaa-san," Shouta replied, returning his mother's smile with the same amount of familial love. He wished his father was here as well, but he knew that his father's work, just like his mother's, required a great amount of time and energy. Shouta was most likely going to follow his father's footsteps and become an Auror, or perhaps even his mother's and work for the Ministry. Either way, he knew the next few steps required confirming his (no his parent's choice) of attending Hogwarts by sending an owl to Headmaster Nezu. Shouta's heard stories about the eccentric man, but he would have to see it to believe it. His thoughts were promptly cut off when his mother stood up, striding over to the entryway to put on her shoes and broom. She looked expectantly at her son, and he joined her after setting down the letter and grabbing the toast that was set out for him with his favorite toppings of grape jelly and salt. Strange, yes, but there are so many other parts of the world that are stranger, like naming a school Hogwarts of all names. Finishing the toast, Shouta slid his shoes on, looking at his mother as she began to speak.

"We'll continue to celebrate your birthday later tonight, okay? I'll make sure to send an owl when I get to work. I have to go now." With that and one last kiss on the forehead, Shouta's mother raced out of the house, her broomstick disappearing into the sky. Shouta would have joined her, however, his severe dry eye when he flies with his parents and his independent nature, assuring them that he can take care of himself by walking less than a block to school, restricts his need for flying. But now that he was going to attend Hogwarts in less than a year, Shouta was sure that he would learn how to fly a broom. Taking a key, he grabbed his school bag, petting his family black cat (his mother's pet), walked out of his house, locked the door and took his last steps of freedom down the pavement of the secure neighborhood that many other wizards and witches lived in, probably already aware that the young Aizawa child is going to follow in his parents footsteps. Or perhaps not. For all Shouta knew, it was a blank canvas already placed inside the frame. He just needed the colors to paint whatever he wanted.