Disclaimer: Anyone would think the fact that this is on a fan fic site would be enough to tell you all that I own nothing JK Rowling and the Warner Bros trolls own. That being said, I am also riffing off a story called The Power of the Press, whose author would know what is his.

Rating: I'm a little confused by this system. I suspect PG:13 would be best for anything I write, though

Notes: Don't expect regular postings, sadly. I write in fits and starts.

Chapter Two: Arrival

When he got out of the shop, it looked as though the area was in full beach party mode, a happy coincidence, considering the numbers of people coming out of that one shop with him. Considering that he'd already missed dinner, Henry was tempted to buy something to eat from a vendor with the measly amount of money he'd saved up from shopping for his relatives (not even enough to be worth converting) but as it was, he had to chase down the last bus heading back to their neighborhood. That night, as he lay on his cot and stroked his miniaturized trunk, Henry decided that the day was definitely worth the hunger and bruises for the late return. He was a wizard, as his eucalyptus wand clearly demonstrated every time he gave it a little wave. The rainbow sparkles that poured out the end shed little light in his cupboard, but they were the brightest and best thing that had happened to him in what passed for his life.

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As Henry Carpenter, boy wizard, drifted off to sleep with a smile on his thin face, far away in a winter-dark forest, a dark shade moved restlessly from one hibernating snake to another, hissing empty threats. Someday soon it would find something bigger and better, return to claim all the magical world and crush the filth beneath its feet. Revenge would be as sweet as the visions of field mice dancing through the minds of its scaley hosts. Yes, it would swallow that insolent brat whole, and the meddling old man's horrible bird as well.

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The weeks leading up to Christmas were as torturous as usual for Henry, as his relatives kept him slaving in the garden through the hottest hours of the day, while they went to the many patio parties and cookouts hosted by his Uncle's business contacts. The only break the boy got was when they held one of their own, and chased him out of the house for the day, despite their desire to skimp on catering by forcing Henry to cook. On those days, he wandered the neighborhood, and brooded in the local playpark, hungry but happy. When nobody was watching, he even attempted a few of the easiest-looking spells in the books, all of which he read at any opportunity, such as being locked in his cupboard for some imaginary offence.

On Christmas day, after receiving the usual packet of outgrown and damaged clothes his Aunt saved up from his cousin's wardrobe, Henry informed his relatives of his altered educational plans. Despite his expectations of an explosion, the conversation had gone fairly well, thanks to the school's second letter, in response to his acceptance letter with its queries about break housing and the location of the mentioned travel hub. The school was already on a year-round schedule, giving it at most three week breaks in-between quarters, and nearly half the students stayed on any given break.

If Henry would leave them and never return at the tender age of nine, they would be happy to take him to the travel terminus on the required day, even if it was in the next town. They actually ended up dropping him off in the early evening on New Years Eve on their way to a party. Henry was left sitting on the edge of an old fountain with all of his worldly possessions in his backpack, with no idea of where or how he would pass the night. He had just started to doze off where he lay on the stone ledge, when the sound of small wheels clattering over sidewalk cracks broke his reverie. The small family passing by would have been nothing out of the ordinary if not for the large trunk being pulled by an exuberant young boy. The boy's free hand waved about as he said something about finally being able to go to school, a comment which his parents fiercely hushed with a statement about having to wait till morning.

Henry got up and moved to intercept them as they made their way towards the grand old hotel bordering the square. When they were nearly upon him, he stopped, unable to think of a single thing to say. What if he mentioned magic only to discover that he was wrong in thinking that the other boy was headed to the same school as him? And then they were upon him, and the question was taken out of his hands. The father halted, and spoke to him with just a touch of gruffness, "what do you want, boy? Be quick or get out of the way."

Before Henry could collect himself, the boy burst out, " I say, are you a tramp? Why're your clothes so huge? Do you want money?" His parents sighed.

Henry swallowed. These, at least were questions he could answer. "No, but I am an orphan. I share clothes with my cousin, and he's loads fatter. I just want to know when the travel terminus opens up. My Aunt and Uncle dropped me off already, cuz they thought I could stay in a waiting room for a few hours till the New Year starts, but they left before I noticed the place is closed. I guess I'm supposed to leave first thing in the morning, then…"

"So you've got no place to go and are assaulting all passersby trying to get them to take you in, boy?" the father said, harshly.

"Honestly, dear, he's younger than Phil," the boy's mother hissed. "I'm sure he was only coming to us because we're parents."

Henry nodded miserably. "I'm sorry, I was just fine waiting by the fountain, I'll leave you all alone."

"Wait, are you going to school, too?" the boy gushed, "how come you aren't more excited, what's it like being an orphan? Wanna come play 'sploding cards with me while we wait up for New Year's in the hotel?"

Henry was lucky, it seemed, as the boy's parents could deny their son nothing, for all that they tried to be strict. He had hoped that he would be treated to a magical game, but it seemed that exploding cards was Phil's version of the card game of war, in which he would randomly shout "kaboom" and throw all his cards in the air. Mercifully, the boy's parents slipped him something to knock him out in his New Year's toast, and both boys fell asleep in their clothes in a nest of disordered blankets and cards on the large bed. Henry awoke shortly after dawn, as usual, and slipped out of the room to see if the travel office was open and ready for business. Upon seeing that half an hour still remained, he slunk off to the one bakery that had already opened and bought the cheapest doughnut on the menu, which he ate while sitting on the fountain and staring intently at the door in question.

At seven sharp, an ordinary looking woman in a skirt suit made her way towards the door, opened it, and reversed the sign that said closed before heading inside. Henry waited for several minutes before getting up to follow her in. He made his way nervously up the stairs to what appeared to be a smallish upstairs office. Approaching her desk at the far end of the small waiting room, he said, "Is this the south-west office of the Provincial travel terminus?"

She nodded, then blinked, "aren't you a bit young to be traveling by yourself, young man?"

"The letter never said anything about parents, just that I should present myself at this office first thing in the morning on the first day of the year," he replied, hoping she wouldn't make him leave. "Actually, I came here with the Emersons," he added, mentioning the family he'd stayed with, "but I just couldn't wait any longer to get to school."

At this, the woman smiled, an expression that almost made her look pretty. "That's just how I felt. Now I'll need to see your letter to activate the portal seal, if you please."

"What's a port-seal?" he asked, confused, "and which letter—I got so many in my packet."

"A portal seal is one of the magical methods of travel. Your school is authorized to charge their seal, which is on the first, and most official letter, and it takes you there when activated at the proper time by this or another such office," she recited, and plucked the necessary paper from his bundle.

"How," he burst out, "is it like getting beamed up? Did I come at the wrong time? I can wait…"

The woman shushed him, softly, "Nonsense, as long as you don't go a the same time as another seal, you'll be fine. Most people all show up at eight and I have to make them wait, even though it is nearly instantaneous—you don't turn into a pillar of light like on that ridiculous show. Now are the Emersons, was it, going to wonder where you've gotten to, Henry?"

"No ma'am," he said softly. "I don't think so, but I think they'll be coming through here later, so if they do, you could tell them I went already. I just got a ride from them into town," he lied.

"Now Henry," she said, "do you have all of your luggage ready for school on your person?" and when he nodded, she continued, "Hold out your hand, and put your finger on the seal. You can put away the rest of the papers first."

She tapped the seal with a wand, and Henry felt the world disappear under his feet, and a strong sensation of being dragged, spinning, by the finger that was now stuck to the school crest. As soon as the feeling started, it was over, and he crashed to the ground, which was unfortunately quite hard, being a mosaic representation of the seal in his hand. He groaned and got up, quickly staggering away from the spot, in case someone else was about to arrive there on top of him. Only then did the young wizard begin to look around him. He was near the center of a courtyard in an elegant colonial building which had, as far as he could see, two story porches and large windows on three sides of the square. The fourth was an elaborate wrought iron gate that was currently open to a gravel drive through a very lush rainforest.

"Welcome to Papua New Guinea," Henry whispered to himself, though there were a number of other children milling about the courtyard, some still arriving on other copies of the seal. An older boy bumped into him, giving Henry a perfect opportunity for questioning. There were so many things he wanted to know, but all he really got out was, "Hey, do you know where new students are supposed to go? I don't see any welcoming committee."

"No idea, heck, I'm new here too. You'd think the letter would mention something, right? The only open door is that big one in the center, though," the larger boy replied, good-naturedly, "wanna try going there together? That way neither of us will look stupid alone."

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Far away on another island's main magical school, the dozen or so students who had stayed for the Christmas and New Years holidays were having an epic snowball war. All of them, that is, except for the youngest, a skinny redheaded boy in glasses, who was watching from a window. He was there to do homework, not to play around. What he was trying to avoid was the thought that this would be his last year before the younger brothers whose presence at home made school desirable would invade the sacred halls of academia. It would be years before he could have another peaceful holiday, given the kind of rampant pandemonium that they produced so regularly. Everyone else thought they were so special, even the few friends who had forced him to invite them home.

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Henry had gone with the other boy, and they found a number of students sitting around on their trunks in what appeared to be some kind of vestibule or entrance hallway. Pretty much everybody ended up trickling in, and he was surprised to discover that he was nearly the youngest there, and definitely the smallest. It seemed as though going hungry in his relatives house had dome more damage than he thought. Otherwise, there was no way he could naturally be smaller than the chattering eight-year-old girl from New South Whales. It was nearly noon by the time a squeaky voice announced that all the beginning students had both arrived and made it into the atrium. It was actually quite cramped in there by then, and Henry had to jump up on another boy's trunk to see that the squeaky voice belonged to a very small man.

"I am Professor Frederick Filson, and I am the staff expert on wanded magic. Currently we are in the main entrance to this fine institute, which is naturally located in the central wing," he said in a very pompous manner. "Now if you would please line up in alphabetical order, we may proceed into the school proper."

As the name Carpenter made our hero only fifth in line, he could hear the little man muttering about the unfairness of losing some competition for the charms position back in Britain against his own brother. Henry smiled, hoping that sometime he would have a chance to ask for some information about the country in which he too had been born. By then the line had formed, and the professor led them down a hallway. It soon became apparent that they were not headed for any particular destination, but in fact on a tour, when he started mentioning the purposes of each room they passed. Henry could hear the kids who had been dragging unshrunken trunks complaining behind them. They had just reached an area the professor said was where all the teachers had their offices, when a jovial-looking man dashed out of a room towards them.

"Oh, Fred, thanks for filling in there for me, ol' boy," he boomed, "never have gotten used to all those pesky details that come with being in charge of this place." He then had everyone leave there luggage right there in the hall—apparently it should have stayed in the atrium, as the staff would take it to their assigned rooms. Mr. Brown, as their headmaster preferred to be called, was actually short for Brownleigh, as Henry recalled. He seemed to be very excited about both sports and the large number of new students that year. The boy was just able to slip in a query about their ages.

"Oh drat," the headmaster replied, "I knew I'd forgotten something in those letters. We send them out to any student who's had an incident of accidental magic with enough output to set off our sensors. Your abilities grow with you, of course, and all of you have magical cores big enough that you need to learn to control the output, or else all of our careful attempts at secrecy would be undone."

He then returned to his ardent soliloquy of their dual quadpot and quidditch stadium, which was also capable of a few simple modifications to allow for an intramural aerial murderball league to also play games there. "…Of course, we also have five different practice fields, all of which can be booked for individual team practices…" he droned on at his continual half-shout. Henry sighed. So far they had only gotten a glimpse of a few classrooms, on of which resembled a dojo, and another that looked like a chemistry lab. Fortunately, the tour ended in the cafeteria, which was in another, less formal-looking courtyard, and had "extensive weather-repelling wards" that allowed it to be used during the rainy season.

Henry was just happy to see that among the scattered round tables there were numerous elevated garden boxes with small trees. Even if he didn't have a friend group to eat with here, like at his old school, he'd at least be able to perch on the broad retaining walls of the boxes and still eat in the cafeteria. No more hiding or sitting at an unusually empty table or whatever. But this was not the case today, as all of the nervous students ended up in a cluster at the end of the cafeteria nearest to the serving line. They chatted about many things, like where they were from, or what each had done to get the invitation letter, after some half-hearted introductions.

"Neither of my parents knew about magic," said a boy who had introduced himself as James Worthington. "They were pretty glad about the letter coming, though, especially since it came so soon after the garden burst into flames when I was supposed to weed it."

"Man, I wish I'd thought of trying to do that," Henry interjected, "I swear that our garden was almost more loved by my aunt than her own son, as spoiled as he is, and I had to do all of the freaking work."

"You should be glad that's the worst you have to deal with," said one of the oldest boys there, "my father is one of the top witch doctors at Ayers Rock and has been trying to get me to do magic since I was three. He was rowing with the other teachers about getting me in despite their age limit and my lack of magic when I apparated myself here. Even he couldn't deny it as a sign I should stay here."

"Yeah, well, my mother's real heavy into Wicca, and she wanted me to disguise myself as a boy and try to get into that Satanic Spanish place," said a girl named Angelina Wu. "I only qualified for this place because my dad was posted in Hawaii with his division last year."

There were also quite a few speculations about housing arrangements, which hadn't been mentioned in their letters or even shown on the tour. After their late lunch was over, a lumpy looking individual standing on one of the low walls addressed them. "I am Garuda, chief of staff at this institute, golem of golems. I am in charge of day-to-day operations and all other golems that are working here to keep everything running smoothly. Any destruction of property, including all of the golems, will be reported to me, as I have the authority to punish and fine you students." At this point he was interrupted by some query or comment Henry couldn't hear. "Only I have been given the gift of life, and as I have the master rune, all golems follow my instructions only. Do not attempt to give them orders yourselves. Now come, and I will show you the student residential wing."

When they got to the student wing, the creature stopped them in one of the various common areas and explained that all rooms were doubles, and that all returning students had their pick of roommates. "Avery, Howard-come forward-Jones, Belinda and Lutz, Daniel—you were all requested as roommates by your older siblings, while the rest of you will be on the fourth floor, in rooms assigned by alphabetical order. Obviously, you are also sorted by gender," he said with a pointed look at some giggling children before briefly consulting some official-looking document. "Transfers from one room to another must be approved by all parties involved and take place no later than the first two weeks of class." He continued on for a while, going over what appeared to be basic rules of conduct.

At this point, Henry was not surprised to hear mutinous mutterings from nearly everyone. Legalese aside, they already knew by now that four floors was the maximum for any building on this campus. They had been given the most inconvenient rooms possible. At this point the golem cleared his throat. "Pay attention now. All rooms are labeled with occupant's names, at least temporarily. Simply place your hand, one of you at a time, on the glowing oval in the center of the door and state your full name, including any middle names, prefixes, titles or numbers legally included. These spots function a bit like mundane palm locks, except that you will be keying them into your magical signature. A simple touch should open them in the future. Now find your rooms, I've got better things to do than baby-sit your lot." With that the golem left the cluster of students in the middle of the hallway.

Henry shrugged and led the way up to the fourth floor, having spotted the stairs while listening to the golem drone on about conduct. Upon spotting the one with his name on it, he swallowed and put his hand on the door, worried momentarily that the magic wouldn't work, especially if he was in fact not going by his real name, as he was beginning to suspect. "Henry Evan Carpenter," he said very clearly. The door clicked open just before the most hyper boy in their group practically rammed him, as he was coming at a dead run.

"Oh hey, aren't we supposed to do that together, Carpenter," the boy half-shouted.

"No, they want individual magical signatures. Look, I'll close it so you can have your turn," Henry replied quickly, irritated by the boy's inability to pay attention.

"Oh, right. Evil full names. Lawrence Adrian Blake the fourth. And don't you dare call me anything but Blake, hear!" He said, and pushed his way into the room. "Damn, I was hoping for a corner room. Maybe next year, right mate?"

He kept up a nearly constant stream of chatter, without waiting for any answer to any of his questions, leaving Henry to thing that they must be either rhetorical or just a quirk of his new roommate's tone of voice. As a result, Henry was the one who noticed the schedules for this quarter sitting on the desk in their room. Apparently, the whole group of beginners would be taking the same classes, just in two groups, with roommates having opposite schedules. It was a block schedule, with classes in a regular classroom setting on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, while practical classes were on Tuesday and Thursday. They had Saturday and Sunday off, and he remembered that most athletic events would happen on Saturdays.

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M/W/F

7—Serving begins for Breakfast

9—Basic Arithmancy, Laurel Enger

10—Intro to History of Magic, Wayne Omagachi

11—Lunch

12—Writing and Runes, Reynard Lowell

1—Afternoon Break

5—Serving begins for Dinner

7—Cafeteria closes

8—Astronomy, Aranda Watkins

T/T—Wear workout clothes for all classes

7—Serving begins for Breakfast

9—Physical Education/Defense, Coach Richard Carter

11—Lunch

12—Herbology/Potions, Marion Liberachi

2—Afternoon Break

5—Serving begins for Dinner

7—Cafeteria closes

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Henry knew he would end up being the first boy in the showers every morning, a lingering habit from his early years of having to get up and make huge breakfasts for the lard balls who called themselves his relatives. At least he could use this extra time most every morning to read ahead in his textbooks, and especially the extra one on magic theory. He also noticed a note saying that as tomorrow was Sunday, all students were invited to attend services at the nearby Lutz family mission if they so desired. All of them, however, were required to report to the hospital wing sometime between lunch and dinner for the required annual physicals.

Henry decided to try and find the hospital wing ahead of time, since he had no intention of going to church and wanted to avoid having to waste any time after lunch looking for his destination. He found it behind a pair of cool frosted glass doors and was just looking glancing around the waiting room when a nurse bustled up. "Run along now, dear," she said, "you know professors kids aren't supposed to be here without parents."

Sighing at the ongoing problems with his size, and asked, "What about students, dear," in a teasing tone, "or should I just run off till after lunch when I'm supposed to be here?"

"Lord preserve me," she said, "you get smaller every year. Why do they never listen when we suggest a nice set age for first years, like every other school? Honestly, we only said after lunch because nobody thought any of you'd be up. You might as well come in now for your check-up."

She had him fill out a form with his name on it, which had a lot of unfortunate questions about the kind of health care he'd gotten previously, which honesty demanded he mark as none whatsoever for all of the categories. When she frowned while reading over the form, he could guess pretty well it was the reason. Then he was whisked back into a small room which was full of strange instruments that he couldn't stop looking at, and Henry wondered which ones were magical, never having been to a real doctor's office before. She had him lay down on a weird bed thing that was covered with a piece of paper before pulling out a large clear crystal, which she passed up and down his body while chanting something under her breath, a procedure that he was sure had strictly magical origins.

As she did so, it took on a number of different colors for each part of him covered, which appeared to be quite alarming to her, given the way her eyebrows rose higher and higher. "You poor boy," she breathed, before collecting herself, "I must say it was a good thing you came here early, Mr. Carpenter, given the kind of things that have happened to you in your short childhood. I'm going to go get some specialists, so don't go anywhere."

At this, Henry pressed his hands over his eyes, no longer interested in the objects in the room. He could already tell that it flashed a different color for broken bones than the scars he'd gotten from cuts and scrapes, and shuddered to think about the other things that had probably been indicated by her detector. If there was anything that could be done for him magically, he knew he'd be in for a long day of medical procedures. It was not long before she returned at the head of a small procession of people, including a man with a monocle, both a man and a woman wearing the same weird dress as her, and a woman dragging an enormous briefcase full of strange glass bottles. They assembled themselves in a semi-circle around his bed before the first woman spoke.

"Now Henry," she said in a very familiar way, "as I've just been telling these fine people, initial diagnosis has indicated at least a dozen broken bones healed naturally, severe bouts of malnutrition every year but your first, undiagnosed nearsightedness, two different bindings on your magical core, and something evil attached to your forehead. We're also going to need you to undress completely so that we can assess your impressive collection of scars."

"Are you going to be able to fix any of it?" he said in a suspicious tone, as he began to take of his shirt, "because otherwise I don't really care for everybody to know how bad it is."

"I think we should be able to address most of your problems, since you seem to be naturally healthy boy, as indicated by the fact that you've managed to have no cavities, despite never going to a dentist," said his original healer, "though I can make no promises about the dark magic on you. That is a specialty of Mr. Bones." She indicated the man in the monocle.

After that, they stopped directing any comments to him, and after swallowing a few vile concoctions, he found his world dissolving into unconsciousness. The next thing he knew, the fading colors of sunset were shining through a window he hadn't noticed before, and his roommate Blake was demanding something from the nurse blocking the doorway. He groaned as he tried to sit up, and this brought her right over, with Blake trailing at her heels.

"Awake already? How do you feel? Mr. Blake here wants to take you down to dinner with him," she said, rather unnecessarily, given what he'd overheard the other boy yammering on about.

"My mouth tastes horrible," he groaned, not mentioning the accompanying headache, "if food helps, I'm all for it."

"Very well then," she said, grabbing a small black case and opening it to reveal a number of test tubes. "These are nutrient potions that you must take with every meal. You're also to report in for a check up and refill of these once a week until I tell you otherwise, young man. Do you understand?"

"Of course," he said, "but what about my eyes, you mentioned something about them, do I need glasses or something?"

"No," she said, "we were hoping that they would improve as you recover nutrients. Mr. Bones is still working on your last problem, but your bindings have been removed. I suggest that you exercise great caution in using your magic outside of supervision until you are comfortable with the higher levels of power you may feel."

"Now can we go?" Blake finally burst out, "I'm starving and everyone wants to know what's wrong with Carpenter here." With that, he proceeded to drag an unresisting Henry out of the room and towards the cafeteria.

At dinner, much to his roommates displeasure, he refused to go into more detail than needing to have his body repaired from malnutrition, an explanation that was definitely required, both by his case of potions and his having gained at least two inches in height already. In fact, he would end up putting on at least an inch a week for most of his first year at the school, to his endless delight, until he was the tallest boy his age in attendance. But for this night, mostly all he noticed was that he had never been so hungry before in his life. Apparently doctor's visits take a lot more energy out of you that anyone would think. He was not the only one going to bed early, however, as the next day was the start of classes.