Thank you, hiccups-and-sighs, for your review. Hopefully you continue to like the path the story takes.
Summary: One wizard's mistake leads to changes over a decade later in inter-house dynamics at Hogwarts. Starting in 1989, prior to Harry Potter's introduction to the wizarding world.
The West Side of Hogwarts to the Dungeons Down Below
Chapter 2 - Euan Roddenberry.
"Sometimes the worst place you can be is in your own head."
It was the quote that Euan Roddenberry often heard his mother say to him… when she was sober…when she was around.
She first explained the quote to him when he was six, although he had heard her say it many times before that, but never really understood.
"Keep yourself busy, entertained, stimulated and occupied." She would say to Euan, "Be busy so you don't have time to think about your problems, your life, your ..."
Euan was ten-years-old, he shouldn't have that many problems. His biggest problem at the moment was that two of his colored stickers on his Rubix cube were starting to peel off. Compared to the problems of the adults around him, Euan felt that his problems were mild irritations in comparison. For example, unlike his mother, he had a good roof over his head thanks to his grandparents.
His grandparents, mostly his grandmother, were the ones who raised him in their home in West Brompton. He liked to think he made caring for him an easy task as possible, as his grandma had plenty of problems—most of them surrounding her family, just not Euan. Euan's mother had first dropped him off at his grandparents when he was three. He had heard his grandma tell his grandpa that his mom couldn't stay sober to care properly for Euan. Well, his mom couldn't stay sober for the last seven years, so the majority of his life he spent with his grandparents.
It was better this way for everyone.
He could help his grandma out… she sure needed it.
His grandma must have followed his mother's advice on staying busy… or perhaps it was the other way around.
Nonetheless, his grandma was constantly doing something, often staying busy due to Euan's grandpa— who was always getting himself into trouble. The most significant incident was when Euan was eight. His grandma had gone outside for five minutes to water the roses while his grandpa put a pizza slice wrapped in aluminum foil in the microwave oven.
He nearly burnt the house down—if it hadn't been for Euan's abilities, the family would have been homeless for sure.
When loud popping noises began to come from the microwave, Euan had been sitting with a book at the dining room table. He ran into the kitchen to see his grandpa standing in front of it, like a deer in the headlights. Euan felt immediately panicked when he saw the flames ejecting from the kitchen appliance.
Before his eyes and his grandfather's, the both the flames and the microwave were gone. The only evidence of the incident were the scorched markings on the tile of the countertop.
His grandfather didn't say anything, but went back to the refrigerator for a different snack—the pizza already forgotten. This was normal for him, Euan's grandpa was extremely forgetful. It was the Alzheimer's.
"What's that smell?!" His grandmother shrieked as she walked into the kitchen. "Is something burning!?"
West Brompton wasn't that far from the Westminster Bridge.
Which is where Euan stood with his family—sans his mother.
His grandfather stood near the pedestrian railing of the bridge looking out into the distance of the River Thames. Near his grandma, his aunt and her husband were fussing with their newborn daughter from within her stroller. The infant's cries were drowned out by the noise of the busy street they were standing on.
It was Easter Sunday, which meant Euan's family had just left the Easter service at church. Euan was dressed in his nicest suit and his hair had been combed into submission repeatedly prior to leaving for the service.
Euan stood next to his grandfather, seeing that he was the only one keeping an eye on him with his family having their hands full with the upset infant.
"It's a glorious sight," His grandfather spoke roughly regarding the city around them, "Eh, boy?"
Surprised to hear his grandfather speak, Euan responded simply, "Yes."
"Hmmf." He grunted gruffly before speaking again, "It sure has changed."
It had been the most he had heard his grandfather say in quite a while, he wanted to continue the conversation as long as possible.
"How so, papa?" He looked up at his grandfather's towering form.
His grandpa didn't answer back and Euan didn't really expect him to.
"Hurry along, you two." He heard his grandma calling for them as the rest of his family started to walk towards the clock tower.
"Grandpa, it's time to go."
Euan grabbed for his grandfather's weathered, worn hand and guided him towards West. There was no resistance from the older man as he let his descendant guide him towards the stairs descending to the Westminster tube station.
Euan paused at the top of the stairs.
A gentle breeze from the South ruffled his combed hair, whispering past his ears.
Euan would occasionally get these… feelings located in the pit of his stomach—which had been slowly growing in frequency since before he could remember. It seemed this particular feeling, was tugging him towards Soho, an area north of Westminster. The best he could describe it was like a hunger. How hunger guides one towards food. This feeling was guiding him somewhere in the city.
He itched to go north.
"Come on, you guys." His aunt's husband had retraced the family's steps to return up the stairs.
Euan obediently followed with his grandfather in tow.
Once seated on the underground train, Euan turned to his grandmother.
"Grandma." Euan spoke to get her attention, she looked down at him sitting beside her. She began to fuss with his windswept hair, "Can we come back here?"
"What?" She asked, even though she had heard him clearly—befuddled by the odd request.
"I just think it would be nice to take a look around at the city." Euan attempted to persuade his grandmother.
"Oh, alright." She smiled as she coaxed a stray hair into place on his head.
Euan smiled, imagining the tentative trip back. He would finally be able to investigate the source of this feeling… his hunger.
Months had passed since Easter Sunday, his hunger—the term he used to describe the feeling he had in the pit of his stomach— started to intensify at a faster rate. Festering into something he could no longer ignore. It couldn't have worsened at a more inopportune time.
His grandfather had started to act more withdrawn and weak, so his grandmother had taken him to the hospital. The doctors said he had to stay for a couple days because of a blood infection. Euan still needed to go to school each day, so his aunt was staying with them, she was off work anyway due to his one-month-old cousin's birth.
He hadn't seen his grandma in two days, as she was staying at the hospital.
It was Friday and Euan made it back to his grandparent's house. Anticipation fluttered within his throat as his aunt cooked dinner while his cousin was asleep.
"Aunt Mary?" Euan spoke tentatively, as his aunt stirred her concoction on the stove.
"Hmm?" She responded.
"Could we go for a walk, east of Kensington?" Euan asked, hopeful. He was so focused on his aunt's response that his intention unknowingly displayed throughout his body language—his hands clasped together, fingers interlaced in front of him.
"I was thinking we would go visit grandpa tomorrow." His aunt replied.
"How about after?" Euan's heart skipped at her negative response.
Euan could see the wheels turning in his aunt's head, "I don't…"
"It'll be m'birthday present." He stumbled over his words eagerly, interrupting her.
She laughed at this, shaking her head, but Euan could see she was cracking. "Fine!" She huffed playfully. "But we will find you a birthday present while we are out." She said before mumbling, "Going for a walk isn't a real present."
"Thank you!" He shouted excitedly.
"Shhh!" She hushed as her eyes darted over to the car seat where her first-born was still sleeping.
"Sorry." He whispered timidly.
That Saturday afternoon, the pair stood on the sidewalk of Charing Cross Road staring at the door between a bookshop and a record store. Aunt Mary was clutching onto the navy stroller.
Euan had barely obtained three hours of restless sleep that night due to the anticipation. Finally, Euan knew he was in the right place.
"I think it's closed." His aunt said.
Not a second later, a man dressed in bizarre clothing came out of the door. He didn't give them a second glance as he strode past.
"Let's go inside."
"But-"
His aunt started to say something, but Euan—atypical for his usually respectful demeanor—had ignored her and was already darting for the door.
His aunt followed him inside, it was poorly lit and shabby, with a bar and a number of tables in the shadows of the corners.
"Euan!" she hissed, following the boy as quickly as one can with a stroller.
Euan was already out the back door of the pub, while his aunt struggled to follow him through the cramped space. She apologized to the strangely dressed individuals drinking and eating as she maneuvered her stroller. She finally emerged through the door Ewan had just exited, the stroller directly behind her.
Euan stood motionless, staring at the brick wall in front of him.
She stood at the doorway, preparing to shout at him for leaving her behind, unaware of the anguish currently warring within his head.
The anticipation had been building for months with subsequent weeks of planning, to bring him to this moment. He was so close—only for it to hit a wall—literally a brick one.
He was surrounded by brick on all sides, unable to go forwards, only backwards. Euan unleashed his pent up frustration, throwing his arms towards the bricks in front of him. A directed blast of magic left his body and collided with the brick wall.
BOOM!
A cloud of dust enveloped Euan and Aunt Mary causing the latter to cough and sputter at the contaminated air. The former was lying unconscious– face down with a bloody, broken nose.
The various witches and wizards shopping within the alley stood uselessly, mouths agape. A thick cloud of dust obscured the scene, yet it also provided cover for a small girl, who was sneaking towards the prone form of Euan. The girl removed an oversized necklace from her dainty form and placed it around the unconscious boy's neck before sulking off back into the gathering crowd. No one noticed the girl slip back amongst them, as they attempted to see through the dust.
Most of the onlookers remained an adequate distance from the mouth of the alley, eyes bulging at what remained of the brick wall that separated the alley from The Leaky Cauldron. The thick cloud of dust began to dissipate and two middle-aged wizards cautiously emerged from the crowd. Both men had drawn their wands while they slowly stepped over the crumbled bits of brick.
All of these events happened in less than fifteen seconds after the blast, which was the time it took Mary to recover from the shock of the unexpected blast and quickly check on her infant son. Once she was assured that no harm had come to him, she turned back in order to squint through the dust.
Her ears ringing, her hands shaking, and her heart pounding in her chest—all from the adrenaline flooding her system. As the dust settled, she was able to make out the two men crouched over another. Her heart leapt in her throat.
Euan!
"Is he alright!?" she shouted as she scrambled towards Euan, who lay supine on the ground.
"Yeah, he's just unconscious." One man replied in a gruff voice as he waved his wand over Euan's bloodied face.
"Wh-what happened?" Mary stammered as she gripped the limp hand of her unconscious nephew.
"Just one serious case of accidental magic." The other man spoke, astonished that an underage boy could have achieved a wandless blasting curse.
"I'd say." The gruff man agreed with his companion.
"Wh-what?" Mary stuttered, confused.
The men stopped waving their wands over Euan to scrutinize the woman crouched beside them—her clothes and her bewilderment of the situation. It didn't take long for them to come to the conclusion that she was a muggle.
"Are you related to the boy?" The gruff man asked Mary.
"I'm his aunt." She replied.
"What's his name?" The other man questioned her.
"Euan." It was the last thing she said before the gruff man directed his wand between her eyes. She became unconscious faster than a Cleansweep 6.
"Call the A.M.R.S." The other man suggested as he pointed his wand at Euan, "Rennervate."
The boy's eyes fluttered open as he awoke.
"Euan?" The man asked as the boy's crystal-blue irises became visible.
"What happened?" He groaned.
"Y'fell flat on your face." The gruff man spoke as he expertly waved his wand in an intricate fashion.
A pair of crystal-blue eyes scrutinized the two oddly dressed men couching over him. The boy—still on his back—propped himself up on his elbows to look around. He surveyed the remnants of the brick wall, as well as the throngs of curious onlookers on the other side. His eyes popped as he noticed his unconscious aunt beside him.
"Is she alright?" He asked, alarmed.
"Yes," the gruff man replied with a huff.
Before the gruff man had the chance to elaborate, his companion asked, "What were you doing here with her?"
"I was looking…" Euan pondered over an appropriate response, his mind was sluggish as a result from the blow just minutes ago. "…for something."
"Yeah, well don't bring unknowing muggles here, boy." The gruff man patronized, "I know she's your aunt n'all, but sometimes blood isn't thicker than water and family will cross you quicker than strangers."
"What's he supposed to do, Caradoc," the other man argued, "Kids can't just wonder around muggle London by themselves, he'd just get picked up by the muggle authorities."
Caradoc grunted in response.
"The obliviators are coming." The other man told Euan.
Euan was beyond confused. What were these men talking about?
Caradoc must have noticed the baffled expression on the boy's face, "Ah shit, Arnie" he exclaimed, "This boy's got no idea."
Arnie assessed the young boy's facial expression. Caradoc was right. "How in Merlin's name—" Arnie began to say, but was interrupted as a group of men from the A.M.R.S. arrived at the scene.
"What's the situation?" The leader of the obiviator squad asked Caradoc. Caradoc and Arnie began to explain, but a woman in a long cloak offered her hand to Euan, effectively obstructing his view. Euan accepted her hand allowing the woman to pull him to his feet.
Once he was situated on his feet, Euan noticed that Aunt Mary was awake. She was hysterically speaking with two adults, both of whom were dressed in the same outfit as the witch that helped him to his feet.
"We got here through the tube." His aunt spoke exasperatedly to the two adults.
"Legilimens."
"Let me help you with that nose." Her musical voice stated as she pointed her wand towards the center of his face.
"Episky."
That's when several things happened at once…
A loud crunch came from Euan's nose, his eyes watered from the pain that followed. Euan's finger's gently probed his nose as tears gathered in his eyes. Through the tears, Euan could see the bricks and dust magically reforming and re-erecting themselves back into the wall.
"The boy is definitely not a muggle." Euan heard Caradoc say to the lead obliviator, "My diagnostic spells were as clear as day."
"Must be a muggleborn." The witch who fixed his nose stated.
A what?
"Someone floo the Deputy Headmistress at Hogwarts," the lead obliviator ordered, "See if he is in the book of names."
The alleyway had been repaired to its original state. Euan stood flabbergasted at the events happening around him. What could he do? He didn't even know what was going on?
Perhaps he was still unconscious.
Perhaps this was all in his head.
A warm hand enveloped Euan's. He glanced up at the woman holding his hand, who was smiling down at him.
"Hang on." She grinned.
Everything went black in an instant. He felt a squeezing pressure throughout his entire body making it impossible to breathe. His feet suddenly met solid ground– his mind registered that he never realized that his feet had even left the ground in the first place.
Euan stumbled—he immediately recognized the living space of his grandparents' home in West Brompton. The woman from the alley let go of his hand once Euan caught his bearings. Euan recognized two others—a man and a woman from the alleyway. The woman was situating the stroller near the couch, while the man guided his aunt—who was looking rather green—onto the couch.
How…?
"Obliviate." a man stated, standing before his aunt while pointing his wand at her forehead.
Euan's brain was overwhelmed. He had so many questions, he didn't know where to start.
"How about we sit down." Someone suggested as he was guided towards the comfortable couch next to his aunt, who had an absent look on her face.
Crack!
Euan nearly jumped from his skin as two people—a man and an elderly woman—appeared out of thin air in front of the television.
Euan's eyes were wide open, but he kept his mouth firmly closed shut—despite the thousands of questions forming in his mind.
Better to just let this play out, he thought. I must have hit my head. This isn't actually happening. It's impossible.
After brief greetings, the majority of the adults disappeared with a loud crack. Only two of the adults remained, the elderly woman and the woman who fixed his nose.
"Mr. Roddenberry." The elderly woman spoke firmly with an accent, "My name is Professor McGonagall. I am the Deputy Headmistress at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."
Witchcraft? ... Wizardry? ... What…like magic?
"He hasn't said much." The witch who fixed his nose informed the Professor.
"I see." Professor McGonagall stated before pursing her lips, "You aren't in any trouble, Mr. Roddenberry. That, I assure you. These things happen and no one was injured in Diagon Alley."
…
…
"Do you understand?" Professor McGonagall asked once she realized he wasn't going to say anything.
"I do." Euan lied simply.
"Where are your parents?" McGonagall asked.
"I don't know." Euan replied truthfully.
"Will they be back soon?" the Professor frowned.
"No. Not likely." Euan clenched his fists, it was a bit of sore topic for him. "I live with my grandparents."
This was all rather odd. Why was his brain playing out this scenario? Seemed a bit harsh, he thought irately.
"When will they return?" she asked.
Euan took a deep breath in attempt to quell his growing frustration at his own hallucination.
"I don't know that either. My grandfather is in the hospital." He replied.
"Is your aunt caring for you in the meantime?" Professor McGonagall questioned.
"Yes."
…
…
The Deputy Headmistress seemed to take a moment to assess the situation. Euan realized his brief answers weren't helping this bizarre situation, but he was at a disadvantage within his own made-up situation. His brief answers seemed to be the only control he had.
"Mr. Roddenberry," the professor began, "Has anything ever happened around you that you couldn't explain?"
…
"Of course." He blurted out, "Everything that has bloody happened within the past hour."
The younger woman chuckled while Aunt Mary stared off into the distance and Professor McGonagall pursed her lips in annoyance.
"Before today, Mr. Roddenberry." McGonagall spoke sternly.
Yes, of course. There was odd stuff happening around him all the time, since before he could remember.
"Well, sure." He spoke hesitantly.
"These things happen because you are a wizard, Mr. Roddenberry." The professor explained.
So it is like magic.
… and it finally dawned on him.
"Is this real?" He asked critically.
"What do you mean, Mr. Roddenberry?" the professor asked.
"I mean, is this really happening?" He clarified.
"Well, yes." McGonagall frowned with a look of concern on her face, "Why wouldn't it be, Mr. Roddenberry?" She asked rhetorically, "Magic is real. You've seen it with your own two eyes!"
Wasn't it all in my head?
McGonagall could sense his confusion, she turned to the younger witch beside her, "Didn't Martha apparate you and your family here?"
The young witch, Martha, nodded in response.
Euan didn't know what apparate meant, but he saw a lot of weird stuff happening around him today.
"I can do all of this stuff?" He questioned.
"Not yet, of course." McGonagall huffed, "You have to go to school first."
She took a slip of paper out of a pocket in her robes and offered it to Euan. He noticed that it was a letter and it was addressed to him. He opened the letter and pulled out the paper.
HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY
Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore
(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorcerer, Chief Warlock,
Supreme Mugwump, International Confederation of Wizards)
Dear Mr. Roddenberry,
We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.
Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July.
Yours sincerely,
Minerva McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress
The second page was indeed a list of books and materials—bizarre books and materials.
"Where can I even buy these things from?" he asked, perplexed.
Martha laughed, "Where we just came from—Diagon Alley—they'll have everything you need there."
"Over the summer, I will take you to get your supplies." McGonagall replied, ignoring the witch next to her. "I will let you know when I solidify the date, but now, I must go." She nodded her head towards the young boy, "Good-bye, Mr. Roddenberry. Martha."
"Good-bye, professor." Martha smiled brightly at the stern witch before turning back to Euan. "Now, your aunt won't remember anything that happened—"
With a crack, the professor vanished.
"It's too dangerous."
"How do I do that?" Euan asked Martha as he stared where Professor McGonagall disappeared.
"Oh, you'll learn to apparate in your sixth year at Hogwarts." Martha replied.
"Apparate?"
"Um, yeah." Martha frowned slightly, "It's the most convenient way to travel from one place to another."
"That how we got here, right?" He asked, curious.
"Yeah." Martha affirmed.
It was an unpleasant way to travel.
Aunt Mary snapped out of her stupor immediately after Martha apparated out of the house. Euan felt guilty throughout the rest of the afternoon as his aunt bustled around the kitchen.
"Where did the time go?!" she growled as she prepared dinner and Euan sat at the table pretending to read, yet his mind was miles away.
Not much later she asked, "Why are your clothes so dirty, Euan?"
Euan didn't have an appropriate response, as he wasn't the type to play outside, he much preferred reading.
"Go wash up for dinner!" she scolded him, "And change out of those clothes!"
Euan shut the bathroom door behind him, a change of clothes in hand. He absentmindedly placed the clean clothes on the counter top before pulling off his shirt and depositing the dirty cloth onto the floor. He grabbed the bar of soap just as he caught his reflection in the mirror above the sink. He noticed something that hadn't been there before.
A small milky-white crystal hung from a necklace, intricately encased by a band of copper-colored metal. He didn't know why he hadn't realized it before, as it felt heavy around his neck and warm against the skin of his chest. He reached up to touch it, but once his palm came into contact with the object he cried out in pain and released the crystal.
On the center of his palm, the skin was badly burnt and the pain seemed to radiate up his entire arm into his chest.
He turned the cold tap on with his un-burnt right hand, thankfully his dominant hand, which had held the soap not a minute ago. The only reason why he hadn't burnt it instead of his left. He gritted his teeth as the cold water ran over the wound.
And like that the pain was gone.
The next full moon is March 1st, that's the plan. Fingers crossed.
I am writing this story as I go, so I am open to suggestions. Please give feedback.