Disclaimer: JK Rowling owns the Leaky Cauldron (Tom just works there) and everyone else who sounds familiar. I also don't own Lucky Boys Confusion and the name "Walkman." The line about Kansas in Chapter 2 was also inspired directly by The Wizard of Oz. (I keep forgetting to cite all my sources! Sorry!)

I own Hex, Maeve and Peter, and I love them dearly. I also own Kasper's Kauldron Keep (but Kasper hasn't paid me my cut of the profits in ages…) and Norman, who really is a sweet kitty. His name was inspired by the movie Psycho and yes, I ripped Pinky Rafalski's name from the hockey player.

Part Two — Hex

Into the Magical World

Hex awoke the next day to a loud pounding on his door. "Hex!" Hagrid called from outside. "Wake up, son!"

He hustled out of bed and opened the door. "Hi, Hagrid," he said. "Good morning."

"It's almost sundown, boy," the huge man told him. He nodded at the T-shirt and boxers Hex had worn to bed. "Good, yer dressed. Come along now, we have to get yeh yer school things."

"Where are we going to get this stuff in London?" Hex asked as he followed Hagrid down the stairs into the Leaky Cauldron's dining area, looking dubiously at his list of requirements.

"Diagon Alley," Hagrid replied, taking them out into the inn's small backyard and tapping the brick wall with his flowery pink umbrella.

"Where's tha—" His question was cut short when the wall wavered and disappeared, turning into an archway through which he could see people milling around many tiny shops. He followed Hagrid through the arch and looked with interest at the many things that were for sale.

"Come along," Hagrid said, setting off in one direction. "Have ter get yer things 'afore the shops close."

"I'm sorry I slept so long," Hex apologized. "It must have been jet lag."

"Wha's…jet lag?"

"It's what happens when it's a different time of day in the place where you are from the place that you were," he explained. Hagrid scratched his head, shrugged and grunted in a manner that told Hex he hadn't really understood.

It was getting dark, making it hard for Hex to see everything. Still, he could peek in the lighted shops and saw that they sold a lot of strange things — broomsticks, owls, cauldrons, and barrels of twisted roots — stuff he supposed was ordinary in the magical world.

Hagrid stopped in front of Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions. "Go on, let's get yer uniform."

Inside the shop, a squat little witch was busy with the hem of a purple robe worn by an elegant older witch. "Looks expensive," Hex said. "Don't you guys have a secondhand shop or something?"

"The school is payin' fer yer things, Hex," Hagrid said. "There's no need ter worry."

"Yeah, but I don't want to cost them too much money. I'm going to have a hard time paying it all back if we get new stuff."

"Yeh don't need ter pay anything back!"

"Sure I do." Hex folded his arms. "I may not have money but I've got my pride." For a while they just stood there outside the shop, looking at each other, neither refusing to back down.

"We've got a lot o' other things ter do, boy," Hagrid said finally, looking like a very hairy thundercloud. "Get in there and don' worry about the money. Yeh can talk it over with Dumbledore when yeh get ter Hogwarts."

Hex could tell Hagrid was pissed, but to his credit he didn't lay a finger on Hex at all. He knew he should be grateful that everything was coming free, including his black Hogwarts robes and a set of deep blue dress robes, but it just all seemed too good to be true somehow. Perhaps the niggling feeling in his gut was the suspicious nature Hagrid said all Muggles had.

Hagrid helped him buy his schoolbooks at Flourish & Blotts, a shop crammed with books of all sizes. "Man, look at that!" Hex said, crouching down to examine a magazine on a nearby rack. "The picture's moving!"

"Wizard photos do," Hagrid said, amused at the boy's amazement. It was an expression he saw on the faces of all Muggles entering the magical world.

They bought a pewter cauldron at Kasper's Kauldron Keep, and potion ingredients at an apothecary shop full of strange things that Hex couldn't believe existed. "Is there really such a thing as a unicorn?"

"Yeh know about them, then?" Hagrid asked, pleased. "Yeh migh' want ter take my Care of Magical Creatures class so yeh could see one — but I'm righ' partial to dragons meself. Maybe I'll try ter bring one ter class this year."

The last shop they visited was Ollivanders ("Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C."). With its dark windows and dusty corners, it looked closed, but Hagrid pushed open the door. A little bell tinkled as they entered.

"Good evening, gentlemen," said a soft voice belonging to a man whom Hex guessed must be Mr. Ollivander. He did look like he'd been making wands since 382 B.C.

"'Evening, Mr. Ollivander," Hagrid said. "The boy needs a wand."

Mr. Ollivander turned his strange gaze to Hex. "Ah, yes. If you will stand still for a minute, young man…"

Hex stood as still as he could as a tape measure wrapped itself around him, measuring him in many strange places. He tried not to laugh as the tape measure dug into his ribs, apparently on purpose.

"That's enough now," Mr. Ollivander said as he returned with an armload of long, thin boxes. The tape measure stopped trying to stuff itself into Hex's ear and fell limply to the floor. "That tape measure…not as serious as the old one…they don't make them the way they used to…Now, young man, please try one." He gestured to the boxes he had stacked on a single rickety chair. "Take a wand and give it a wave."

Hex took one from the nearest box (ten-and-a-half inches, maple, with a unicorn tail hair in the center) and a strange warmth entered his fingers. He waved it as he was told. There was a flash of golden light, as if Hex had switched on a flashlight. "Whoa!"

Mr. Ollivander nodded and smiled. "It looks as if you found the right wand on the first try. Would you care to try some more?"

Hex nodded. He wanted to see how the other wands would work. He took another (twelve inches, maple, with a dragon heartstring) and waved it. This time a shower of blue sparks sprayed from the end. Hagrid gaped and Mr. Ollivander shook his head. "Extraordinary…most extraordinary…"

"Why?" Hex asked after he waved still another (eleven-and-a-quarter inches, willow, with another unicorn tail hair). It shot silvery ribbons from its end this time. He watched them hang still in the air for a moment before fading away. Another wand (nine inches, maple, with a hippogriff feather) emitted a cloud of smoke that smelled a lot like incense.

"Well, young man," Mr. Ollivander explained, "a wizard can use a wand other than his own to practice the magical arts, but he will not get results that are as good as he would if he had used his own. I can usually tell if the wand favors the wizard when he takes it into his hand and shows the same kinds of results as you have with four different wands. It's practically unheard-of, young man, but it appears that most wands favor you."

"You mean I can get good results with just about any wand?" Hex asked, and grinned when Mr. Ollivander nodded. "Cool."

He tried a few more before finally deciding on a wand (eleven inches, ebony, with a dragon's heartstring) that gave a loud bang and lit up at the end like a Fourth of July sparkler.

"Wow, that was off the hook," Hex said as they left Ollivanders with his wand. "I didn't know I had it in me to do things like that."

"All Muggle-born wizards never really realize it 'til they get their letters from Hogwarts," Hagrid said. "Now, we've got all yer school things, 'cept yer animal, if yeh want one. Yer letter said yeh were allowed an animal, didn't it?"

Hex nodded. "Well, do we have to buy one? Or — hey, will this guy do?"

Weaving around Hex's ankles was a scrawny, rusty orange cat. It looked up at him, squinted and gave a tinny meow. One of the cat's ears was missing. Hex picked it up and scratched its head. The cat mewed again and he chuckled. "He likes me."

Hagrid looked dubious. "Yeh sure yeh want 'im? Skinny little blighter, isn't he?"

The cat hissed and swatted a small paw at Hagrid. It was funny to see the huge man jump. "I think I'll call him Norman."

"Norman?"

"Yeah," Hex said as they walked back toward the Leaky Cauldron. "He looks like a psycho. Don't you, Norman?"

Norman squinted and rubbed his head on his new owner's arm.

"Ho! Hagrid!" someone called after they re-entered the Leaky Cauldron. A tall boy with bright red hair was standing and waving in the middle of the crowded dining room. He shared a table with a plump older woman, two stocky older boys, and a young girl, all with hair as red as his own.

"Ron Weasley! How are yeh?" Hagrid replied as he walked toward them with Hex in tow. "'Evening, Mrs. Weasley…Fred, George…young Ginny…"

"What are you doing in London?" Ron asked, shaking Hagrid's hand.

"Hogwarts business," Hagrid said, gesturing toward Hex and their packages. "Jus' took this lad shopping for school things."

"New at Hogwarts, dear?" Mrs. Weasley asked him kindly. She reminded him of Pinky Rafalski's mother back in Brooklyn, who baked cookies and cleaned her house every morning, except Mrs. Weasley wasn't looking at him as if he was about to set the house on fire. "Oh, dear, what happened to your—"

Both she and Hex flushed. "Um, I had a…skateboard accident on the way here," he replied, smiling bravely. "I guess I look pretty awful." He knew that she knew where he got them. So what did it matter what he said?

"He's new but he's enterin' as a fifth year," Hagrid went on into the pause that followed, "same as you, Ron. Hex, this is Ron Weasley; his mother, Mrs. Weasley; his brothers, Fred and George; and this here is young Miss Ginny Weasley. This is Hex Holmstrom."

"Hi," Hex said. The two older boys, identical twins, nodded briskly to him, mumbling greetings through mouthfuls of baked potato.

"Hex?" Ginny asked, smiling. "That's a funny name."

"Shush, Ginny," her mother admonished.

"Hex is from America," Hagrid said, as if that explained it all.

"Oh, you have a cat," Ginny said. "May I pet him?"

"His name's Norman—" Hex said, and frowned when Norman hissed and scrambled up his arm to get away from Ginny. "—and he needs to work on his people skills. I'm sorry, I don't think he's used to strangers yet."

"D'you know what house you're in yet?" Fred asked, having swallowed his food.

"House? Uh, no, I don't think so," Hex said.

"This entire pack of Weasleys are in Gryffindor House," Hagrid said. "Maybe you'll be there, too."

"It'll help to know some people at a new school," Mrs. Weasley said.

Hex nodded. It was a lesson he'd learned early in life, moving around as much as he had.

"Won't the two of you join us for dinner?" she asked then.

"No, thank yeh," Hagrid said. "We've already eaten and I really have ter be goin' back ter Hogwarts."

"And I'm really tired," Hex fibbed. "Jet lag, you know." He felt awkward about eating with people he didn't know. Then he noticed how little the Weasleys had eaten and how worn their robes were, and he was glad he followed Hagrid's lead and refused.

"That's righ' — and yeh know yeh young 'uns have ter be on the Hogwarts Express tomorrow mornin'," Hagrid said.

"Guess we'll see you then," George said in a friendly manner, but kept his eyes averted from Hex's battered face.

"Guess you will," Hex replied. "It was nice meeting all of you."

"It was our pleasure, dear," Mrs. Weasley told him. There was a mixture of pity and curiosity in her plump, open face and pained smile. "Good night."

The hectic shopping trip helped, but Hex still had a hard time falling asleep that night. Tom had to unlock the door the next morning, go inside and wake him up. After that Hex only had enough time to pull on his jeans and wolf down a few bites of breakfast before he was out the door and in a cab with Norman and his new school trunk, on his way to King's Cross to take the train to Hogwarts.

At the station, Hex took a trolley and pushed his trunk to Platform 9. Tom had explained the night before that all he had to do was run through the barrier between Platforms 9 and 10 to get onto Platform Nine and Three-quarters.

He wheeled his trolley to the barrier. "Looks real solid," Hex murmured, half-afraid he was going to run headlong into a wall. But what were a few more bumps and bruises? He broke into a run, watching as the barrier drew nearer and nearer. At the last minute — Muggle reflexes, he supposed — he squeezed his eyes shut, but never felt the crash of his trunk hitting the wall.

Hex ran a couple of steps more before finally opening his eyes, and found himself standing on Platform Nine and Three-quarters. "Well, I'll be damned," he said. "It worked!"

Platform Nine and Three-quarters looked just like the ordinary train platforms, with people in groups saying goodbye to their families and getting onto the waiting train. He tried to look for the Weasleys, but there were just too many people.

Hex hoisted his trunk onto the train, then dragged it down the aisle and into an empty compartment. With any luck, he'd have it all to himself for the whole trip.

He put Norman down on one seat and sprawled in another. Outside, he could hear people talking, laughing, and arguing over seats. Fathers were saying goodbye and mothers chased after their children with last-minute reminders, scoldings or sweaters. This was a strange, strange thing he had gotten himself into, Hex thought as he put some Lucky Boys Confusion on his Walkman. (A/N: GoF only covers Hogwarts!) He couldn't wait to see how it was going to turn out.

Just then, the door to his compartment opened and a small girl wandered in. She smiled vaguely at him as he helped her stow away her trunk, and curled up in a seat next to the window. Norman jumped promptly into her lap.

Hex watched her pet his cat and smile out the window. She wasn't very tall, but looked to be around his age, with very pale skin and long dark hair. She looked like she was part elf, or part mermaid — and Hex knew it was a possibility that she was either. (Maybe even both.)

His covert observations were interrupted when the compartment door slid open again. "Ah, Maeve," an oily voice said, with the slightest hint of a sneer. "There you are." Standing in the doorway was a slight boy with hair paler than Hex's own and two very large boys on either side of him like ugly bookends. "Naughty girl. Father told me not to let you out of my sight."

Maeve stared at the newcomers with golden-green eyes. She didn't look happy at being found.

"That mangy creature on your lap won't be able to give you the same things I can," the pale boy told her. Norman arched his back and hissed as if he understood what the boy had said.

"Come now, there's no need to give me the cold shoulder. You are practically my girlfriend," he went on. "Mother and Father promised your mother before she died that they would make sure you married well. And goodness knows your bloodline could do with some good, pure wizarding blood." He glared at Hex when he snickered. "Yes?"

"Nothing," Hex said, holding up his hands. "Just an interested spectator."

"I didn't ask for an audience. Why don't you run along while I finish my business with Maeve?"

"Run along? Buddy, I seem to recall getting here first." Hex got to his feet. The pale boy was skinnier and about half a foot shorter than he, but the bodyguards certainly made up for that. "Why don't you run along, boy? It's obvious that the lady is not interested, anyway."

The boy's face was now pink with anger. "Do you know who you're talking to?"

"The filling in an asshole sandwich?"

There was a giggle from the girl behind him, but the two gorillas didn't move. Hex supposed they didn't get the joke. "Dude, you picked on my cat and insulted her family, and you expect her to be your girlfriend? Why don't you try again after Mummy and Daddy have bought you a clue?"

The pale boy looked furious. "Crabbe! Goyle!"

At the sound of what Hex guessed was their names, the two big boys started toward him. Well, he thought again, what were a few more bumps and bruises? They didn't get very far, however, because something behind them was holding them back. When they finally realized they weren't moving, Crabbe and Goyle looked over their shoulders, saw whatever it was, and scrambled away. The pale boy glared at Hex. "I'm not through with you yet."

"Oh, I'm peeing in my pants," Hex drawled, receiving one final glare before the pale boy stalked away. He then found himself face to face with another boy as big as Crabbe and Goyle. "You want some of this too?" he demanded, still on the defensive.

The big boy looked at him blankly, then looked over Hex's shoulder at the girl in the compartment. "Was Malfoy bothering you again, Maeve?"

"He tried," Maeve said in a clear, musical voice, "but this boy stopped him."

The boy looked at Hex again, grunted to himself, and held out a hand. "Peter Brandegoris."

Finally realizing this one was friendly, Hex shook the offered hand. "Chr—Hex Holmstrom."

Peter entered the compartment carrying a school trunk like it was just a cardboard box. He put it away easily and sat down next to Maeve. "This is Maeve Moondaughter."

Maeve smiled mistily at Hex. "Hello. And thank you for coming to my rescue."

"Uh, it was nothing." Be cool, Holmstrom. If you try to hit on Peter's girlfriend, he'll hit you.

They all jumped when the door opened yet again and Ron, the tall, redheaded boy from the Leaky Cauldron dining room, stuck his head inside. "Hi. Mind if we kip in here with you? All the compartments are full. We couldn't get an empty one because someone just HAD to go to Diagon Alley at the last minute and buy extra schoolbooks—"

"I may need them for reference!" a bossy female voice behind him retorted.

Hex chuckled. "Hey. It's Ron, isn't it?"

Ron recognized him and grinned. "That's right. And you're Hex. Can we sit in here with you?"

"Go on ahead."

Hex and Peter helped Ron with his school trunk. A dark-haired boy with glasses then came in with his own trunk and a cage containing a large white owl. Last but not least was Ginny's trunk. She had a cage too, containing what looked like a feathery Mexican jumping bean that was hooting excitedly.

A girl with masses of bushy brown hair stayed in the aisle. "I suppose I'll go on to the front of the train," she said.

"No, stay with us," Ron said. "Ginny can sit on Harry's lap."

Ginny blushed as red as her hair and smacked her brother's arm. The other girl frowned. "Very funny, Ron. You know prefects have two compartments reserved. Why waste a perfectly good seat?"

Ron shrugged. "Beats me. Oh, before you go — meet Hex Holmstrom. He's new at Hogwarts. Hex, this is Hermione Granger. She's a prefect." Hex and Hermione nodded politely at each other. "So if you ever get into any trouble, she'll smooth things over for you."

"Ron!!!" Hermione said. "I can't abuse my position that way!"

"Only bluffing! OK, you've met him, you can clear off now."

Hermione sniffed in annoyance, shut the compartment door, and was gone. "I just love doing that," Ron chortled. He gestured toward his sister. "You remember Ginny, don't you…and last but definitely not least, this is Harry Potter."

The dark-haired boy nodded to Hex, his glasses nearly sliding off his nose. Harry didn't stare at his bruises too much. He seemed preoccupied with his own thoughts, but Hex wasn't about to complain.

"You guys know Maeve and Peter?" Hex asked as they took their seats.

Ginny giggled. "Yeah," Ron mumbled, turning pink and nodding in their direction. Maeve seemed to have that kind of effect on guys.

"So," Hex asked Peter, "who was that ferret-face guy bothering Maeve earlier?"

"Ferret-face guy?" Harry asked, confused.

"Draco Malfoy came by earlier," Peter explained, smiling as the others began to laugh. "I'd say ferret-face is a very fitting description for him, wouldn't you?"

"Professor Moody turned him into an amazing bouncing ferret last year for trying to attack Harry," Ron told Hex, still grinning. "It was the coolest thing I had ever seen."

"Guess he deserved it," Hex agreed, smiling. "So does he own the school or something?"

"He likes to think so."

Hex shook his head. "What a loser. He thinks he's so bad-ass…he's just an ass."