Chapter 1: In the house of eccentricity

It felt cold all around him, like being in a house with an open door in winter, a slight warmer breeze from somewhere to the left, and a bright light directly in front of his tightly shut eyes. Feeling like wakening up from a long and painful dream. The young adult, lying on a bed in front of an open window in a sterile room, a white sheet up to his waist with the visible part clad in a modern grey shirt. Slowly opened his eyes to the bright world.

"Ah ..." The man mumbled to no one while taking in the surprising environment he now is waking up to. Is this a hospital room? He thought while looking around the room, and the room – as the newly woken resident of it described – is like most hospital rooms, even though it seems a little old. It has four beds with clean white sheets, partitioned by sliding curtains of a beige colour. The floor is of an octagonal pattern of white ceramic tiles and white walls are surrounding the whole room.

A lone open window is to his right since he rests in the right bed closest to it, seen from the entrance to this room positioned directly opposite of the opened window. The three hospital beds, because that is what they are – as seen from his view – are of an old variant and all but empty. Although one of them seems to have been used, the sheets are rattled and pushed to one side of it. A bedside table is placed to his left with some items on it, including, from his perspective; a pair of black rectangular framed glasses; a glass of a transparent liquid, probably water; a towel that is almost falling off the table; and last, a magazine that rests against the wall.

The late adolescent male retrieves the pair of glasses from the bedside table while trying to jolt his memory to work, struggling to find out how he ended up in an old hospital room. "Augh! I can't even remember what I did for this –"

The closed-door to the room opens, interrupting the tirade of the young adult, letting in an older man in long, light-blue robes with shoulder-length hair tied in an upright braid. Probably some kind of sleepwear. The young man thinks while looking at the older man's clothes.

The man looked at the newly awakened one at the far bed. "Huh …" He said while taking in the sight of the revived form of the man he has seen in his domain for some time now.

"You are awake, young man." The old one properly stated while moving to the bed with the dishevelled white sheet. "I am Sir Nicholas, the fine Prince of this kingdom of White Sheets!" He continued in a virtuous and clear tone.

The late adolescent male on the bed to the right, closest to the window, awkwardly replied. "Hi … my name is Alve Bokgren." Now known as Alve, the young adult said uncertainly to the older man with a distinct Swedish accent.

The aged man sits down on the unkempt bed, facing the younger man while reaching for a mug of tea on his side table that seemed quite cold. "You are not from the Empire of Great Britain, are you, my friend?" He asked with the same clear and noble tone as before.

Alve, now even more confused, answered the obvious crazy old man. "No … Sir. I am from the Kingdom of Sweden." He answered, thinking that it would be best to play along with the confusing resident of the hospital.

"I see, you have travelled over the great shaft of the seaborn and landed on my domain." The screwball nodded along, totally understanding what had happened while drinking his tea.

A few silent seconds passed, the younger man still looking oddly at the creature before him, who he starts to think are playing a prank on him. While the other one slowly and carefully drinks his tea – that is now steaming from the top – and oddly enough sits with a completely straight back. Uncommonly of such an old man.

"Aha, you are awake. How are you feeling." A gentle voice was heard from the open door – that the older man did not close.

Turning his head, Alve sees a young woman walking in, also oddly enough in a robe, but this one lime green, and with a crest of a crossed straight branch and bone on the upper right chest.

The woman with long flowing blond hair walks up to the young adult on the far bed while taking out a wooden stick of about twenty-five centimetres. When she has deemed to be close enough to the male on the bed, she waves the stick around and speaks out a weird word.

"Eh, excuse me. But what are you doing?" The even more confused Alve asks the woman that now seemed to be satisfied with her wavering.

"Ah, a Muggle," She muttered while tilting her head a little down to look at her stick. Is it supposed to be a wand? Alve wondered in his mind. While the woman nodded to her wooden stick.

"I am checking if your fever has gone down. You were really out of it, you know? Shaking and coiling around the bed." The woman looked up and smiled at the young adult.

Coiling around the bed? Alve thought it was a bit weird word to use in this context.

Screwball stopped drinking his tea, and with perfectly articulate words, he said. "You are a Muggle? I always thought you were a little odd." He bobbed his head and continued to finish his still warm tea. Now that I think about it, how can the tea be warm? It was already cold in the room when I woke up! The new resident of the right bed by the window thought, totally missing the odd word: Muggle.

The woman suddenly asked the tea drinker with a gentle tone. "Mr Uqinn, have you taken your daily potion for the day yet?"

"Oh … you are right, Miss Sophia. Excuse me for leaving my bedded throne; I ought to consume my daily red wine." While carefully articulating his words, the screwball finally got up from the bed and left the room to give it some normalcy.

The woman shakes her head from side to side, looking a little amused while doing so.

"Well then, you seem to have gotten better at least." She smiled at Alve and went to grab the towel that was almost falling off the table.

Alve abruptly thought that this was his chance to ask some questions – now that the old oddball is gone. Therefore, he spoke to the woman with clear eye contact to get her undivided attention. "Yes, although I do not know why I am even here. Would you be so kind as to tell me why I seem to be in another country?"

The woman that had always answered his questions before, at least the only one he had asked, suddenly got motionless and quiet. Still bending a little to reach for the towel but not falling. Her eyes were staring directly into his own.

He honestly got a little worried; she just stood there, stock-still, and soundless. Like time itself had stopped for her, and her alone.

"Are you alright?" Alve asked tentatively.

Seconds passed in silence and she did not even move a muscle.

Just as he planned to go out of his bed and shake her. The door opened, and the screwball came back. "Miss Sophia, I saw quite the peculiar thing. A man in the room down the hall has a weird liquid trailing after him." He said while walking between the two empty beds to the way to his own.

The old man suddenly stopped when he was a few paces before the motionless nurse.

"Miss Sophia?" He tentatively asked, but no response was given.

The screwball that now seemed to take this very seriously abruptly yelled to the world. "Guards! Miss Sophia has been attacked by the invading Muggle from the Kingdom of Sweden!"

And fled the room while commanding loudly to the world for the guards to save the poor woman.

In all this mess, Alve just stared openly at the scene he has somehow gotten to witness. A man, claiming to be the Prince of the Kingdom of White Sheets, running out the door and trying to command his non-existing guards to stop the invader. While the nurse, Miss Sophia, was motionless and still in a position of taking the towel that had under the commotion fallen to the floor.

Alve took a long, deep breath and wondered where everything went wrong. Here he is, sitting in a strange bed in an old, equally strange hospital room, and before him stands a motionless and unresponsive woman. Whom for just a moment ago seemed to be completely healthy, with no visual problems and abnormalities.

He again took a deep breath to calm himself, taking stock of the woman before him. She seemed to not even be breathing, wholly and utterly still. Even the breeze from the open window did not move her hair.

A commotion could now be heard under the screaming of the old man in the hall outside the door. The sound of loud yelling, then someone screaming for justice – probably the delusional old man – and abruptly a bright flash of light, with loud, overlapping cracking sound, ending with silence.

The commotion seemed to have ceased to be because Alve now only heard rapidly approaching footsteps coming closer to the domain of the Prince of the Kingdom of White Sheets.

"Mr Bokgren!" Someone outside the open door, but away from his field of view, called out.

Alve, as confused as when he first awoke in this so-called hospital, yelled back. "Yes! That is me!"

There was a little muttering heard from a few people outside the room, also, oddly enough, outside his field of view. Then the same male voice from before shouted back. "Are the Healer before you petrified?!"

"Yes!" The confused young man answered back.

More muttering and ruckus ensured. While Alve himself was a little frightened by the strange events unfolding outside his field of vision. Not even bother to notice the odd word, Healer, used in a hospital. Although he started to think that this is probably not a hospital, at least if events like this happened often.

After a minute or so, the commotion died down, and Alve hears again the same voice ask a question. "Mr Bokgren! Can you be so kind to shut your eyes and not move from your position!"

Wanting to go back to some normalcy as soon as possible, he did not even question the request, just confirmed and firmly shut his eyes.

*Tap-tap-tap*

"Ho! it really is like they said, Professor." A younger male voice was heard, now from the room with the four beds. "Who would have thought that this was possible, maybe so –"

The same voice that yelled before interrupted the younger one. "Ganon! Move the young Trainee to another room and let the Healers deal with her."

Some shuffling sounded, and the younger voice muttered two words before footsteps could again be heard in the room, but now only from one person.

"Mr Bokgren, it seems another unexpected thing has happened to you." The professor could be heard handling something before the younger man on the bed.

"Change your glasses to this pair instead." He continued with a steady voice, not at all like the screaming prince in the hall. "This pair is not adjusted to your sight, so do not fret about it, and be very careful of them; they are a unique and delicate pair of glasses."

Alve reached out with his hands, and a new pair of glasses were felt before them. A little bulkier than what he was used to, but it would suffice for now. So, someone could explain the weird situation he appears to have gotten himself in.

When Alve had changed glasses, the professor let him open his eyes again. Before him, as was usual on this day, stands a middle-aged man with a robe – this one black. He has a strict face with greying hair and a long nose. Standing beside his bed where the young woman was just a moment ago.

"Mr Bokgren, let me introduce myself. I am Professor Saul Croaker, working as an Unspeakable in the Department of Mysteries." The professor stated like it was an obvious fact of nature while reaching out a hand.

Alve, a little uncertain, shook his hand while saying, "A pleasure to meet you, Professor. I am Alve Bokgren, from the Kingdom of Sweden."

"Huh …"

Maybe he is not a King then. Alve thought while slowly taking back his hand from the now awkward man.

The professor seemed to have a sudden epiphany involving the panicking prince in the hall outside – because he took back his hand and retrieved the magazine against the wall on the bedside table. Opening it up to a random page and showing the moving images to the younger man.

"You are now in St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, specifically on the third floor, where poison victims are treated." He took one hand behind his back to retrieve a wooden stick and a phone wallet made of black leather. "You have ingested a potion containing the blood of an extremely venomous creature and has been treated in this hospital for more than a week.

"Because of your serious condition concerning said potion, you have been given permission to live in Britain's Wizarding areas. Granted to you by the head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement herself."

Professor Croaker took a deep breath before flicking his stick and levitating the phone wallet to the younger man. The wallet opened to present all the things he remembered to have in his own wallet; his Samsung Galaxy A3, credit card, and ID card. Is that not my wallet? Alve thought while still trying to process the information he has been given. Although there was one new thing in his wallet – a small, folded piece of parchment. That, with the help of a flick of Mr Croaker's stick, began to unfold to show an official-looking document that reads:

Mr Bokgren,

I, Head Auror Amelia Susan Bones, officially authorize your citizenship in Britain's Magical community. By the words in this document, you have full access to all services provided as if a born citizen of this country, and herby declared exempt from tax, whilst you continue to work for the Department of Mysteries, as a subject for temporal and spatial study.

Mr Bokgren, you are considered an adult by law. However, a guardian has been assigned to you following your particular and unique situation. Calvert Dwight Parkinson, the head of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, placed this decision upon you. Your assigned guardian will be Unspeakable Saul Croaker, for he witnessed your change and was the most senior member of the Ministry of Magic there to see the whole process.

Thanks for your understanding, and welcome to the World of Magic.
- Signed Amelia Susan Bones and
Calvert Dwight Parkinson.

Alve stared straight at the parchment containing citizenship approval to Britain's Wizarding World while wondering when the elaborate prank would end.

"Any questions?" Mr Croaker asked the confused and dear I say it, frustrated young man.

The younger of the two stopped his intense staring of the parchment and looked up at the hopeful mastermind of this whole intricate prank and asked. "Are we being filmed? Is this for a YouTube video?"

The professor flicked his hand, resulting in the parchment folding back and the wallet closing around it. Then it levitated to the bedside table at his side, where it was gently placed beside his previous pair of rectangular framed glasses.

"Mr Bokgren, this might sound a little odd, but you have travelled back in time to Sunday the 24th of July 1994 and has been in an unplanned experiment that has resulted in some changes to your person." He stated while staring directly into Alve's eyes, behind the new bulkier pair of glasses.

Alve, still thinking this whole thing is a prank, said a little firmly. "Yeah, yeah. And I am the Emperor of the Sheeps of the Green Plains, I get it." – while waving his hand before him – "Just tell me how I got in an old hospital and, as far as I understand, Britain."

"Mr Bokgren," Croaker said with a more strongly tone, looking a little irritably to have to explain further. "You are in Britain, specifically in London, and I can assure you, what you have seen and heard here is all but the truth." He got a thoughtful expression on his face then added. "Although, everything the old man who is calling himself a Prince said is false."

"You think I will believe that?" Alve said while taking his phone wallet on the table beside him.

"This is not a place of beliefs; just look at the observed facts." The professor stated firmly.

Alve, who was examining the contents of his wallet, responded while checking his wallet. "Is that so? Then show me something that will allow me to think this all is real and not an elaborate prank for some laughs."

He looked up at the older man and explained himself. "As I see things, I have been kidnapped from my home, placed in an old hospital room with a crazy old man and an actor who pretended to have been petrified. And then shown some magic tricks by a stranger who had stolen my wallet!"

Alve drew a deep breath from his hurriedly summary of the recent events in his life. Then continued in a lower voice, almost shaking from the intense emotions he is now feeling. "Just show me the way out." He rose from his position on the bed and planned to take out his leg from under the white sheet. But what came out from under the cover was the end of a dark green, almost black, scaled snake.

"Ahaa!" Alve fearfully shouted and hurriedly tried to get away from the serpent under his bedding while throwing away the cover in the process.

"Ge-get it away from meee!" He stumbled out of the bed but fell, for the end of the snake was stuck to himself. In fact, it seemed to have replaced his lower body.

Alve trashed and crawled on the floor beside the bed. Meanwhile, the end of the green snake erratically waved around and somehow got the towel on the floor on the tip of its tail.

Mr Croaker, who had been silently watching the spectacle unfolding before him, flickered his grey wooden wand once again while saying calmly. "Incarcerous" Resulting in the panicking young man being bound by ropes conjured from thin air. Even the snake's tail stuck to his lower torso was bound tightly, still with the towel at its tip.

The panicking man stared in absolute surprise at the ropes that have bound him where he lay on the floor.

"As I stated earlier," Unspeakable Saul Croaker voiced calmly. "Because of your special condition, you have been granted citizenship in our world. Therefore, there is no need to Obliviate you, Mr Bokgren."

Croaker slowly lowered his wand, resulting in the ropes dissipating from the now silent young man on the floor.

Alve gawked at the professor whilst the Unspeakable continued in an official tone.

"Mr Alve Erik Bokgren, welcome to Britain's Wizarding World."

End of Chapter 1