I didn't ask to be born. I didn't ask to be black. I didn't ask to be a wizard. I didn't ask to be all the troubling things, and yet I was. And yet, no one was taking responsibility for these prohibitions.

I, Jackson A. Martin, was being forced to attend Hogwarts School If Wizarding and Witchcraft.

When I first asked my mother why she was sending me to a fake wizarding school, she was very aggressive.

"Don't ask such stupid questions. You will board the plane to Britain, you will go to Diagon Alley, you will get a wand, you will get on the scarlet train, and you will most definitely attend Hogwarts. Questions?"

I just put my head down. "No."

It wasn't like I had any attachments in Morrisonville, but still, I would like to be in a place for more than a year. I was told that I would come back during the summer, but during all of the school year, I would spend my years at Hogwarts.

And the fact was, I was thirteen. Meaning that I was the only new person in my grade. At least, as far as I knew.

Who else except for my rancid mother would put them in a school for 'wizards?'

True enough, the test had came back positive, and a chair did float when I shouted, "Wingardium Leviosa." But I am convinced it is still a trick. Maybe I was too slow to catch a joke?

But no, here I was, packing all my bags into some weird ass trunk, getting reading to be a...wizard.

And I had to get caught up to the end of second year work?

WORST, SUMMER, EVER.

"Sleep...I need sleep..." "Don't care. Get on this damn train, and you'd better not miss it." I closed my cell phone, and walked through the train station. "King's Cross? The hell is Nine and Three Quarters? I walked past Platforms Nine and Ten.

"Confused, eh?" I looked back to see a girl. She was 5'5, a solid teenage girl height. I was 5'8, so the height difference was there. It wasn't as bad since I was slouching.

"Yes, I am. I'm looking for Platform Nine-"

"And Three Quarters, am I correct?"

I didn't like her tone. It made me sound a little dumb. I was almost top of my class back in America.

"Yes." I walked behind the girl, hefting my school trunk full of cauldrons, papers, and the like.

She walked back and ran towards the wall. Before I could yell, the girl disappeared. I felt my warning swallow in my throat. I just trusted her and ran through.

I didn't burst my cranium, but I did fall on my ass on the other side.

The girl laughed as sat there. I wiped my hands, looking up at her stupidly. "What?" Even though my hands were scratched, I didn't care about them. The girl had caught my eye. She looked very intelligent, which was a turn on for me. She had bigger teeth than usual girls, but that was also endearing. Her brown eyes and frizzy dirty blonde hair also enhanced her appearance.

I got up and looked at the girl.

"I would offer my hand, but..."

The girl took my hand and turned it over. She pointed her wand and whispered. "Episkey." All my cuts and wounds on my hands quickly went away. The girl looked proudly at my clean hands and wonder eyes.

Before she could speak, a piercing voice cut into the air. "The mudblood is back at it again! Trying to woo another half-blood, Granger? You should really watch yourself. Not that anyone would want a disgusting half-blood like this."

Stupidly, I figured he was talking about race. So, I did the rational thing and stood up for ourselves. "And just who are you?" "I'm Draco Malfoy, don't forget it, pig!" "You look like a pale hamster. In fact, a ugly, blonde, pale hamster."

There were some snickers from Malfoy's group, but they quickly silenced themselves. Malfoy irritatedly looked at me while getting on the bus. "Like I said, watch yourself, you two. You might just disappear before half-blood Potter gets you killed."

With that, he slid onto the scarlet train, his lackeys shuffling behind.

The girl (Granger?) had her fists balled up. She huffed out, and got into the bus. Not knowing anyone, I got on with her. I figured she didn't have many friends, so I'd be fine.

Like I thought, she walked past the booths crowded with females and to an empty one.

"May I sit with you...Granger?"

"It's not my first name, you imbecile!" It took me a while to get the meaning of the word. "What did I do to you?" "I'm sorry. My name is Hermione, it's just...damn... DAMNIT! Malfoy makes me so mad. He's always giving Harry a hard time, and Ron is making things no better with his hormones..."

I just stood there, listening to her ramble. Then, she transitioned our conversation to the seats of an empty compartment. She told me about her friend Ron, who was an attention seeker, and always tried to impress Harry. But, he had good things too, he was brave and adventurous.

She told me about some Harry guy, who was super famous or whatever. I had zero interest in him, so I told her so. She frowned as the Scarlet Train began to move.

"Why-" The door slid open, and a red headed boy came in. He was an inch taller than me. He had a clean looking wand and a weary trunk. Behind him was a black haired boy. He was 5'7. He looked slightly red, like they were just running. The red headed boy was out of breath.

"Hey, Hermione." The second boy said. "Hey, Mione." The first boy sounded rude and tried to act tough.

"Who is this guy?" The red headed boy said. "Ron, that's Jackson Martin. He's an American transfer student from Florida." "Oh, your the guy that had to get caught up on all that work. Too bad." Ron was then scolded by Hermione. The second boy, whom I assumed was Harry, looked deep into my eyes.

I looked back tenfold.

Something about Harry Potter unsettled me, like pins pricking my skin. He made me something deeper than nervous...maybe cautious?

I don't know. But he was strong, and he needed to be watched.

I leaned over on my bunk and got out my robes for school. I was about to put them on before Hermione screamed at me. "Blimey! What are you doing?"

I paused. "Aren't we only allowed to wear robes? I can't change?"

"You can, just... I'm a girl."

I huffed and took of my shirt. I had a little bit of definition from working out in my mother's farmhouse, but other than that, I was lanky. Harry was skinny, and Ron...had a little chub. But that was alright.

I put on my robe and my shoes. Then, I leaned over on the trunk. "Make sure to wake me up." Before I could hear anything they said, I was snoring, drool spitting out.

...

"Jackson, wake up!" Hermione sounded aggravated, so I jolted me head up and grabbed my truck. Seconds later, the train came to a full halt. I hopped out of my seat, prepared for anything. We groggily walked off the bus. I noticed that Harry lagged a bit behind.

Then, the same annoying voice pierced out ears from the train station. "Potter, you filthy half blood! I would've thought that you would have sagged off the weirdo friends, but you keep piling them on!" Harry's eyes got sharp all of a sudden. His right arm flashed towards his inner robes, but a look from Hermione cut him off.

Harry ignored the jab from Malfoy and kept the pace towards the carriages. We were led by skeleton horses. Harry flashed a look, but Ron and Hermione didn't seem the least bit fazed. I went into the carriage, perplexed. "You guys are used to skeleton horses?" "What?" Was the response of Ron.

Harry sighed. "Don't waste your time. They haven't seen death." Harry was giving me a look, the same one I suspected I was giving him. It said, 'What had he seen that made him able to see death horses?'

I didn't feel like engaging in that conversation.

We rode the carriages to the school, which was huge and beautiful. A true work of beautiful architecture. I had a friend, Annabeth, who would had loved this.

Sadly, she had moved to San Francisco some years ago. We still kept in touch, though.

I got out the ride quickly. The horses made me nervous.

We walked up to the school. It was indeed beautiful. "Come this way." We were herded into the main hall, where 4 long tables were laid out. I felt a strong hand grab my arm. I turned to see an older woman, in her fifties, standing at me.

"You would be parse to come to Dumbledore's office after the Sorting." "Excuse me, where is that?"

The lady gave me an exasperated look. "I will guide you." "That would be nice." I walked behind her into the grandiose dining hall with the other fourth years. I felt my stomach gurgle at a faint smell in the air. I saw no food, but that only made me worried.

Where was the food smell coming from, and where was the food?

I disregarded that for now and ducked down into a chair. There was a line of first years hustling into the hall. They kept their heads down and backs slouched as the drearily walked. They must've been afraid of the attention they were receiving. Everyone looked on as the Sorting was about to get underway.

I looked up as I felt a slight drizzle on my left shoulder.

The sky was dark with a couple of clouds, resembling the same night that was outside. But how was that possible. Everyone else noticed the rain, and I realized I had a lot to learn.

Just as the first kid (Alton) was getting called up to the hat, I was stuck in thought. I was thirteen. Why hadn't my magic began when I was eleven? Why did I have to be weird at the wrong age?

All these questions and more grazed through my noggin.

I just declined to answer then myself, since I didn't know. I looked up back at the Sorting. They were in the F's now, with Franken and Fuller. I didn't care about the Sorting now, with my mood ruined.

That was soon to be changed. A slight tap on my shoulder bought my attention.

"H-h-h-hey...I've never seen you before...and plus, for you to just plop at our table..."

I sat listening as the boy drooled on, stammering over his words. Hermione intervened quickly, not wanting the situation to over-boil.

"It's ok, Neville, he's a new student. His magical power came late, is all." I did not appreciate that, but I let her go on. "McGonagall let him sit here. He's going to be sorted after the feast."

"Really? You mustn't be so good if your magical power just came, but the more the merrier. I hope you come to Gryffindor!"

With that, the boy disregarded me and looked to Dumbledore speaking at the huge stand. He went through a whole speech which seemed rehearsed from year to year. It's the same speech that principals gave instead of addressing the students from year to year.

I had heard this tens of times, since before K-4.

Dumbledore wrapped up his long, blimey tiresome speech with the greatest words I had heard all day. "Now, let's eat!"

Amazingly, a long row of food appeared on the Gryffindor table and on the other tables. I was amazing by the sheer amount, not to mention the fact of how it got there. No one else seemed worried about it, and dug into the food. I grabbed a chicken leg about as thick as a wrestler's arm and dug in.

The tenderness hit me first, then the flavor. I shockingly put down the chicken. "This is the best food I've ever had!"

Hermione smirked. "Nothing beats Hogwarts. The only place that can best the homesickness out of someone." "I'll never be homesick." "Why is that?" Hermione asked me while divulging in a pudding cup.

"I've never had a real home." I've lived in a couple of countries, tens of states in the U.S. and then county hopping. It was a sad case of my mom running from her past and dragging me with her. I wonder where she would end up while I'm over here."

I took out my phone to text my mother. I had two bars, just enough to make a quick message. "School is great. Made friends. Having fun. Love you."

It was really unlikely she'd reply to that last sentence, since my mother wasn't a touchy feeling type of person. I turned my phone off and put it in my pocket, just for later.

I picked up my spoon, about to dig in for real this time, when a slender and frail hand touched my backside. "Please come with me, will you?" McGonagall's tight voice made me nearly sit up straight.

"Yes ma'am."

I quickly jumped out of my chair. I could feel the weird looks pinning my backside, but other than that I was looking at the food. McGonagall spoke to me without looking back as we walked out of the dining hall.

"You'll eat when you get back to your common room."

"What's a...common room?"

McGonagall patiently sighed. There are four houses, Gryffindor,(a little pride leaked out of her voice), Ravenclaw, Slytherin, and Hufflepuff. These houses each have different characteristics that you will soon come to know and learn of. You get sorted into one of these houses depending on what the Sorting Hat find in your soul, mind and body. Braveness, Slyness, Intelligence, or Kindness, whatever they sense, that determines your house and most likely the trajectory of your Hogwarts life and future career."

"You can have a career?" "Yes, in wizarding, there are these things called OWLS, you'll take them in your fifth year. They are important because they'll determine what you are good at and what you like to do. Also, they shall determine the classes you'll be put in from them on until the end of your Hogwarts days. And then, there are NEWTS, tests for seventh years that help them get a head start into their field. You enter a NEWT for a certain field, say, Apothecary. You would take the Apothecary NEWT, and if you manage to pass or even do amazing, then you'll be highly recruited in that field.

"Understand?" Despite being ADD and ADHD, I understood her completely. It was interesting and I liked it, so I hung onto her every word. You could have a cool career if you became a good enough wizard?"

I smiled. "So what did the greatest wizard become?"

McGonagall frowned as the mood suddenly dampened.

"Well, arguably, he went mad with power and tried to kill a baby to stay invincible, then was killed by that said baby, or he's the headmaster of Hogwarts. Some even say that the baby who killed the first man is the most strongest."

I became silent. The second man was Dumbledore, but I couldn't find the identity of the two others.

"We're here."

I looked up at the door in front of me. A gargoyle sat on the knocker.

McGonagall reached up and knocked it. "It's open." It wasn't, but the door opened by itself and let us in. I entered the place, which was first donned by a huge staircase leading up. I saw a case of clear liquid on the table, but I walked up on the staircase. There was also a lot of cool things on bookshelves and things.

I saw the Sorting Hat on the table in front of the Headmaster. "How did you get here before us?" Dumbledore smiled wryly. "I always like to get here before my guest arrives. Call it a common courtesy."

I disregarded that excuse and sat on the chair facing McGonagall. I had my back to Dumbledore, who put the hat on my head.

The first thing I heard was a sharp voice which drugged into my ear.

"I know exactly where to put you..."