It takes an hour and a half to drive to London. Henri says he knows where to get all of my stuff for school. It's Sunday. Henri is more alert than usual. After spending 2 hours fixing the computers and then going through all the articles the search pulled up, he went to bed. I think it's the longest he's slept in weeks. I scan through the list of items again. Students may also bring an owl OR a cat OR a toad.

"Can I take Hadley?" I ask hopefully. Since we don't know if he does have an owner and prefers to spend his time in our yard, I thought Henri would be hesitant. I'm surprised when he agrees happily.

"Someone needs to keep an eye on you," he explains. I return to my thoughts. What did witches and wizards do? What could they do, and how could I use so-called magic without any Legacies? Maybe the people of Earth had discovered a way to harness and express the energy and life within them, strengthened by Loric blood.

I try to turn my mind to other things. The Mogadorians, the invasion. I reach down to touch my scar, the only thing left of Number One. I try to picture what he or she looked like, and what their life was like. I wonder about the others. I can't remember many details from our year in space. I'm not sure if it's memory or imagination that shows me a slightly older raven haired girl, and a much older solitary girl. There's also a cheeky grin from a dark-haired boy with no other features. It's all fuzzy and probably fake.

"John. We're here," Henri says, pulling me out of my thoughts. He pulls the truck into a park and we get out.

"Henri, how do you know about all this?" I ask as he leads me towards an unimpressive pub. A sign hung over its door, naming it the Leaky Cauldron. I huff a bit of a chuckle. "It certainly looks a bit leaky," I murmur under my breath.

"Don't worry. I know it's a bit corny. We learnt a bit about our relations with other planets at the academy. Well, most of the mentor Cêpan did. Number Nine doesn't have a trained Cêpan." Henri sighed as though this was a long-standing annoyance. "We learnt about our descendants on Earth, and the 'magic' they wielded. I knew there was a concentration of such people around London, which is why we're here. I scouted around a bit when I came up here to withdraw some money from the bank accounts."

He ushers me inside and moves to the counter. I'm looking around at the people, listening to him ask the bartender to open the wall to Diagon Alley. It doesn't make much sense to me but I go with it. Henri knows what he's doing. The man behind the counter emerges and leads us to a small courtyard and taps a brick with a stick. The brick quivers and slowly an arch forms, the bricks folding into themselves. The other man leaves to return to his duties.

The arch opens onto a twisting cobbled lane, lined with unimaginable shops. My mouth is hanging open. Henri pushes my jaw up, almost snapping it shut on my tongue. I make a face at him.

"Was this what Lorien was like?" I ask Henri incredulously. He laughs and shakes his head.

"No, this is a new version of crazy," he answers. He seems just as awestruck as I am at the scene before us. "Well," he says, starting forward, "I've been told there's a bank here somewhere. Ready to explore, kiddo?" I nod with a huge grin on my face. This is the most amazing place I've ever seen.

We walk down the street, marvelling at the names and contents of the shops we pass. I shudder as we pass an apothecary. It smells horrid, and from what I can see in the window the retail is just as strange. There're broomsticks in some windows, robes on display in others. There is a menagerie of animals for sale down the lane. A white building overshadows the shops around it.

"Gringotts Wizard Bank," Henri reads as he walks up the stairs. His mouth is slightly open with awe. I get the urge to snap it shut the same way he had done to me earlier. A small person… creature bows us through the bronze doors. Two more of them stand beside a second, silver door with a warning inscribed. We enter a massive marble hall. I stand gawking while Henri heads to a counter to set up an account and transfer some of our money. It doesn't take long. I see him tuck a key into his pocket as he gets up.

"Okay John, we've got some magic money!" He says with flair. "Ready to spend it?" I agree eagerly and we re-emerge into Diagon Alley. "Do you want to start at the top of the list or with the first thing we find?"

"List. More of a chance to explore!" Henri laughs at my enthusiasm but agrees. Any scepticism I had about magic on the way here is blown away. I pull the list out. "Uniform." I make a face. I never had to wear uniform for school in America.

Henri points to a building toting a sign Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions. We go in. While I'm being fitted for the robes, Henri sorts through other items and selects a hat and gloves. When I'm finished, I choose a cloak, and we leave the shop with slightly lighter pockets and an even lighter, small package that Madam Malkin had bewitched, containing all my school attire.

"Books is the next thing," I say. We have to wander down the street a bit to find a store called Flourish and Blotts. The amount of books squeezed in is stunning. I think Henri is about to go crazy with the amount of knowledge stored in this one room, and the range of texts. There are some that are clearly ancient, and others written in languages I've never seen. While Henri looks, I search for my school books. They're not hard to find. I find Henri almost salivating over some ancient-looking books in another language.

"You know what these are John? They're written in Loric. Now, I'm a little rusty because I haven't read it in six years, but shit! This one's by Pittacus Lore, I think it's his diary of Earth or something." I grin at his inner nerd emerging. I gently pry the book out of his hand and add it to my already precarious pile. Henri eagerly grabs another couple of books in Loric and we pay. The shopkeeper gives us an odd look at the books Henri's selected, commenting on the language and the very few people able to read it.

"Ooh, a wand!" I quickly find a store, Ollivanders: makers of Fine Wands since 382 BC. A bell tinkles as we enter. It is sparse and the walls are stacked to the ceiling with boxes. A man appears from the stacks.

"Good day," he says softly, eerily. Henri smiles warmly at him. Large silvery eyes return the sentiment before turning to me.

"Hello," I say, "I'm wanting to buy a wand." It's a little awkward and I'm mentally face-palming. What else would I be in a wand shop for?

"Are you now? I might be able to help with that. Mr Ollivander. Now yours is a face I haven't seen before. You are?" he holds his hand out. I take it.

"John Smith."

"Unusual to hear an accent as American as yours here, Mr Smith. Let's see what I can find for you. Which is your wand arm?" I frown at Henri. He shrugs.

"Uh, I'm right handed?" I hazard. Mr Ollivander gives a small nod and indicates I hold my arm out. A tape measure hovers over from the counter of its own accord and starts taking measurements, some of them quite bizarre.

"Every Ollivander wand has a core of powerful magical substance, Mr Smith. We use unicorn hairs, phoenix tail feathers and the heartstrings of dragons. No two Ollivander wands are the same, just as no two unicorns, dragons or phoenixes are quite the same. And of course, you will never get such good results with another wizard's wand. The wand chooses the wizard, of course." It seemed like a run-down he was well-rehearsed in giving.

Mr Ollivander had accumulated a stack of boxes on the counter. He takes one out and hands it to me. "Here, try this one. Give it a bit of a wave. Yew and dragon heartstring. Nine and a half inches, nicely flexible." I look at Henri again, and again I get a shrug. I flick it, only to have it yanked out of my hand firmly and another put in its place. "Beech and phoenix feather. Eleven inches, strong and hardy." Again it is removed from my grasp quickly. I go through another six or seven repeats until sparks fly out the tip of one and Mr Ollivander seems satisfied. I feel a kind of connection to the stick of wood in my hand.

"Very good. Sturdy, cherry and unicorn hair. Ten and a half inches. A very rare wand wood. It has a certain strange power to it," he says, unashamedly ogling me with contemplation. Henri pays Mr Ollivander and we quickly leave the shop. I shiver on the way out.
"Was a bit intense, wasn't he?" Henri muses, noticing.

"Oh yeah," I huff, pulling out the list. "A pewter cauldron," I mutter. Looking up, it's not hard to find the store. There are large cauldrons in the windows and spilling out into the lane. Potage's Cauldron Shop reads above the door. Minutes later we have a pewter cauldron to add to the other equipment. Wizeacre's Wizarding Equipment is our next goal, and we emerge with a brass telescope, crystal phials and a set of silver scales.

Feeling the lightness of his pockets now, Henri says; "You'll work me into the ground at this rate," with an exaggerated sigh. I laugh because it is far from the truth. Henri doesn't work and never has, at least not on Earth. The precious gems we were given from Lorien have given us enough money to last at least ten lifetimes.

"One last stop, John," Henri says, moving over to the Owl Emporium.

"But didn't you say I could take Hadley? Why do we need to go in here?" I ask, confused.

"What, I'm not allowed to get anything for myself here in this wondrous wizarding world?" He cringes a bit at the alliteration. I just raise an eyebrow briefly and follow him, admiring the large birds in the safety of their cages. While Henri searches for whatever it is he's looking for, I wander the store. There's more that just owls in here; cats and toads are stacked around in cages. The little light in the shop glints of dozens of pairs of eyes, and there's a constant rustling of movement. There's another kid, probably about my age, with light hair and huge, thick glasses that look like they're about to slide off his face, inspecting a small barn owl.

An excited voice bubbles up from the front of store, speaking so fast I can barely understand the French that's come forth. Then I hear Henri's hesitant reply. The kid at the owl cage also looks up and sighs, then turns to face me.

"Is that your dad?" He asks. I nod. "You might want to go save him. That's my mum, and she won't stop talking now that she's finally found someone who speaks French. I'm Sam, by the way," he holds out his hand, using the other to push the glasses back up his nose.

"I'm John," I reply, taking the offered hand.

"Are you a muggle-born?" He asks as we both make our way to the front of the shop.

"A what?"

"Were your parents magic? I'm guessing not, if you don't know what a muggle-born is,"he clarifies.

"Oh. Um, Henri's not, but he knows about this stuff. I don't know about my mum. What about you?"

"Mum went to Beauxbatons - that's in France - but then she met Dad and she thought she'd left the magic stuff behind her. Until I got my letter, that is."

"Your dad was normal - I mean, not a wizard?"

"Yeah," he says sadly. I don't push.

"Henri! You ready to go?" I call out to him, interrupting the flow of French out of the mouth of a petite woman, who I assume to be Sam's mum. Henri looks at me with a bit of relief and hoists the owl cage he's holding a bit higher.

"Well come ooon," I moan, dragging him to the counter to pay for the ruffled owl. He sends a quick apologetic smile to the woman, who is now following Sam towards the owl from earlier, looking a little affronted. Once she's out of earshot I release my grip on Henri's sleeve and he sighs and blinks a couple of times.

"Very nice woman," he says sarcastically. "Thanks for the save," he adds sincerely.

"You're welcome," I grin. We leave pretty quickly in Henri's eagerness to avoid the woman again. On the way home I squeeze information from Henri about this new world. He doesn't know much, and I intend to spend the next month before term scanning through all the textbooks.


A/N: New chappie. Enjoy. Also - Sorry Sam seems OOC. But please let me explain myself - 1) Yes his dad disappeared 4 years ago and he still worships him, and he's into the whole alien thing. 2) He's not been a weird loner in high school yet, 3) he's very recently discovered the magic world and a) is very excited and awed by it, and b) it gives him hope that aliens might exist too, if this society exists that people consider fiction. He will be back to the Sam we know and love after he calms down a bit.