Author's Notes: Well I got to rewriting this story so it's on the smoother and not so bad to look at. Today's date is April 27, 2007 btw, revision number 1. There may come a three or four one day when I'm having a bit of writers block and want to see where I'm actually going with this story.

He entered silently not even letting the old oak door that separated him from the hall and his father's study, let out its usual creak. Shutting the door behind him, he proceeded to move in a sluggish manner across the room towards the desk, where he slipped from his pocket, a small glass vial with its clear watery contents swishing inside. He set the glass vial down onto the desk with his eyes prying upon a thick letter addressed to one "Evan Gauntless, down to the very room in which he stood in now.

"How peculiar" he thought out loud, noting the oddity that the envelope was not addressed to his own room, but then again.. in the month since his father and his arrival to this new 'home' he has not even entered the room. He wondered if he could remember what door it was, but to do that he would have to remember which floor it was on to begin with.

Throwing away that stray thought, he picked up the letter, seeing that it was addressed to him, and proceeded to the nearest armchair which sat indirectly in front of the desk, next to a ceiling tall window with its curtains drawn. On the way there he bumped the edge of a random trunk that sat idly between them, twisting around just to fall into the armchair. With the slight wave of the hand, one side of the curtains gave way, letting in the early morning light of the sun, just as it peaked out from the horizon. In the light of the sun, he realized he still had his white death eather's mask on, to which he removed, glancing at the ivory white that glowed with a soft white when exposed to the light, and its narrow eye sockets, defined nose... very different from all other death eater's masks. He touched the long black scar on the mask, that resembled the cracks of color in a marble stone, vertically from the very top of the mask, directly across the left eye socket and then down past the bottom edges of the chin. This was a new addition to his mask, caused by the recent battle with a very old wizard and his powerful pet phoenix. He had encountered the in the ancient labyrinth of caves his father sent him to. to retrieve the vial. If he hadn't left when he had the chance, those two would of broken through his mask and found his face, something they seemed so anxious to do for some reason.

He rubbed the scar on the mask and then his own, just above his left brow in an afterthought before putting the mask into one of his many hidden robe pockets. When he looked up, he saw his father standing at the desk, examining the vial, swishing the contents inside. His father looked to him, and then backs to the vial in satisfaction. He took note of the letter in Evan's hand when he opened his mouth to speak.

"It came for you the day after your departure." He said, not choosing to comment on how Evan arrived three days later than the appointed day he was to return. Or even about the new addition to his mask if he happened to see it.

'He will probably bring it up later around dinner,' Evan thought pretending to be curious about the letter's arrival.

He opened the envelope, and the parchments inside. A train ticket fell to the ground as he looked to the first parchment, the acceptance into the prestigious the School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Hogwarts. Along with the letter, the remaining parchments were of supplies he would need for the year (and the five years prior to that year). There was also another signed letter requesting him to take a weeklong examination that would start the day after his arrival to the school with the other students.

He took note of the departure date and where he would have to go to catch the train, and gave a small laugh. "It seems that I won't make it in time," he said tossing the parchments to the side, seeing today is already September the first."

His father rubbed his chin, "so it seems, but the train is still there, seeing that you have still two hours time to catch the train. Plenty of time."

The parchments that had fallen to the wooden floor, flew up on a gust of invisible wind, right back into Evan's hand. In this father's hand, a wand in which he tossed over at Evan. Evan's mouth, which had dropped at the mention of him making the train there, closed once the wand whipped across the room, and into his other hand. He twirled the wand between his fingertips and stared at his father.

"HUH?"

"You'll need that"

The wand stopped its twirling to stand vertically at the tip of this middle finger, his hand lay on the arm of the chair, palm up. "Why?"

"All the students have one, and you'll be just like any ordinary student. In fact, it is best that you practice a little with the wand before you do some real damage, even thought it may be incidental." His father said with a small smirk, Evan believed he meant opposite of what he said just then. "Dumbledore has his suspicions about you and I, and it is your job to make sure they are quelled with your being the most average of students."

"Father, what exactly are you planning?"

"What I've always been planning. This will be like any task I ask of you, but a little less challenging. Think of it as the calm before the storm, a little vacation if you will, since all of your years of excellent service to me as my son. Go to the school, attend, and wait for a sign from me. There is another matter I have to deal with, but you are not needed for that." His father said stepping from behind his desk and to the runk Evan had bumped into. His eyes seemed distant, drawing more questions for Evan. A bad feeling came creeping at his spine, raising the hair in the back of his neck as it did so.

He attempted a yawn, trying to shrug off the feeling, but the yawn stifled as the feeling stayed. Evan closed his yes momentarily, thinking about what his father was not telling him. While he did, his father came up to him, barely touching the edges of his pitch-black locks. There was a slight burning smell that made him open his eyes and his father's hand pull away. They stared silently towards one another and Evan stood, reaching for the trunk he knew was meant for him. His father had probably planned it since he left for that vial a week prior.

"I've got a bad feeling about this" he said with a tired expression.

"You always do, but somehow you always manage."

Evan opened his mouth to say something , but decided not o, opting for manually opening the ttunk with his hands and chucking the parchments into it. He noticed everything he needed lay inside the trunk, down to the perfectly tailored school robes and potion ingredients. There as even a broom, making his eyebrows raise in curiosity. His father didn't seem to notice.

"If there are a few items in which you feel that you are missing, like an owl, you will find them at Diagon Alley inside muggle London. Also if you find that wand a bit unsuitable, in which I believe you will, you can trade it in at the wand shop there as well. " He said as he waived his hand and the single train ticket that had fallen earlier appeared in his hand.

There was also a piece of parchment with the map of the city inked on directing him from Diagonally to the muggle train station, King's Cross. He looked at both momentarily before grabbing his trunk and turning to leave.

Oddly, his father stopped him, putting his hand on Evan's shoulder with his back turned. Evan spun around, "You do know that you are still wearing that Death Eater's cloak?"

Evan grinned, for a second there he thought his father was going to be like other children's fathers, saying 'goodbye' and 'goodluck', but he knew better. He gave a short laugh before he pulled of the robes to reveal no weapons, tools, or even some light armor that would protect him from the tasks his father always sent him on. Instead, he wore just a simple black t-shirt with a pair of soft tan corduroys. He slipped the ticket and map into one pocket, and his wand into a back pocket while taking note of his father's puzzlement before he took the trunk, turning away as he popped into Diagon Alley.

His father merely went over to his desk, sat down, and let out a long troubled sigh. He could feel the bad feeling creeping up his spine too; there was just something about his time going away that would not be like all the other times. From the corner of his eyes, he caught Nagani coming from a hole beneath a shelf in a nearby bookcase, and slithering onto the warm spot on the armchair Evan had left for her.

"Nagani isssssurrrreee Massstersssire will comme baaack too himmmsss"

oOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

He appeared as if stepping out from Knockturn Alley and fumbled around Diagon Alley looking for either the animal emporium or the wand shop his father mentioned. It would be the wand shop he found first, or in his case, the wand shop owner who found him when an old man with glasses half the size fo his head bumped into him. The narrow wand boxes he had stacked up in his old wrinkled arms went out and about, in every which way on the alley floor. The old man scrambled for a wand, and Evan pulled and waived his new wand about in a half twirl, trying to recall verbal spells he now used instinctively.

The wands, which had gone out of their boxes, shot right back in like bullets, gling right through the actual boxes and leaving little holes behind, and then set themselves right in fron of the old man who had by then, retrieved a wand, which was now attached to a box.

Evan shrugged at the pile saying to himself, "eh…. Close enough."

He attempted to walk away after that, but the old man stopped him; grabbing his wand hand and taking his wand from him.

The old man then proceeded to examine the wand very carefully as he spoke to himself, "Hmm.. spruce, thirteen and a quarter inches, rather rigid, Sphinx feather. An interesting combination, but not quite a match."

Evan managed a, "Wha…t?", before the old man pointed to his set of wand boxes with Evan's wand.

"Could you?"

He shrugged, taking the boxes of wands stacked neatly in the pile he made and set them on his trunk, telling them to 'stay'. By the time he did turn back to the old man, the old man was already twenty paces away, excitedly rushing over to his wand shop. He rushed to catch up. He eventually came up to the wand shop "Ollivanders' – Makers of Fine Wands since 382 BC", and went inside to find the old man taking the store apart looking for whatever he was looking for. He set the boxed of wands onto what he suspected was the counter, half buried with boxed of wands. After that, he proceeded to sit on his trunk with his arms half crossed, staring towards the man's direction and seeing him with an armful of wands, none if which seemed to match is original wand.

Two, ten, and then twenty minutes passes before the man came up to him with the sets of wands for hm to try while building a small pile. They tried every one of them and none of them seemed to satisfy Evan nor (what Evan assumed now was) the wand maker. He wanted to just take his original wand and leave, but suspected his wand now lay at the very bottom of the pile, and sighed whenever the wand maker tossed another wand into the pile. Another twenty minutes passed and there was a second pile. None of those wands set in front of him seemed to have satisfied him and the wand maker in the slightest, again. Evan sighed again and again beginning to tap his feet, a habit his father often found infuriating when he was running out of patience. The old wand maker didn't seem to notice or hear, off in his own world apparently, and if he did happen to notice, paid no mind.

'He must be used to it, ' Evan thought to himself.

Out from the back of the store, the wandmaker was heard mumbling "Hmmm.. very curious, " in a distant voice.

"Curious? About what?" Evan said, feigning interest now; he was leaving this time, he was sure..

He made his nod to leave and went to grab for his wand, taking a guess that it laid somewhere in the first discarded pile of wands, "I'm sorry, but its getting late, and if I wait here any longer I will miss my train."

But the gentleman never came out from his searchings. Evan stood, stretched, and started to pick apart the pile of wands. He could feel all those days he stayed awake in those caves, waiting for the perfect time to take that vial,… catching up with him. He nearly fell back, a little dizzy, but stood again, and yet still staring at the piles of wands. He wondered if he had enough time to find himself an owl, but decided against it when he looked to his pocket watch. He would still have to find that train station alone, and in muggle London of all places. He shivered to himself, thinking about the muggles before he went to the door, grabbing the doorknob.

In that insignificant moment, the most insignificant of things happened. He saw a dusty old box being pushed out from the other side, presumably by the old wand maker, still searching for a wand for him. He could of just continued on his way, there were boxes spread all over the floor and one dropped box was rather pointless for him to pick up; but there was that slight inkling that he could not refuse as she stopped and went to pick it up. He left his belongings for a moment as he did so, seeing that it was just a few paces away. When he went to pick up that poor excuse for a box, he found the wand slipping out, and headed straight for the floor. His reflexes, quicker than a cat at times, grasped the wand, and set it back in its box, putting it back in its place without as much as a second thought. When he let go of the box, he did feel that lslight tingle as if he shouldn't of put it back, on how he should of slipped it into his pockets instead. He looked at the box for a moment before turning back around towards the door.

When he turned again, he found himself face to face with the old gent who only stred back at him gravely with those eerie moonlit eyes. In his hands there lay a crumpled old brown box to which he shakily and excitedly extracted a finely polished wand. "please, just one last wand."

Again, against his better judgment to just leave, he nodded taking the wand to his hand and twirled it about his fingers. Nothing seemed special about the particular wand and he shrugged as the old shopkeeper described the contents of the wand to him.

"Mahogany, twelve and three-quarter inches, sturdy, double twisted augurey tail feather" he said with a grin.

It would be another moment before the old man put his hands to his hips. "well?! Swish it!"

Evan feeling that this was just a waste of time, did a half swish of the wand, half pointing it towards the original pile of wands and calling out for the wand he had originally come with.

"Accio wand."

The pile of wands did not stir, but instead the wand he had put away earlier popped from its box and shot straight into his hand, knocking out the mahogany augurey wand from his hand. The mahogany augurey wand fell, joining the other wands in the second pile. He took a good look at this wand and again, twirled it about his fingers like all the other wands. He did not know why it was this particular wand that flew back into his hands over his other wand, but he didn't seem to mind so much, liking its feel and shape. Evan looked to the old man "since I don't know where my old wand went, I'll pay the difference for this one."

The old shopkeeper face seemed distant along with a faded look to his eyes before he noticed Evan had said anything. He took the wand in his hands examining it very carefully, remembering the fond times making it and an unknown disappointment that showed in his eyes. "Holly, eleven inches, supple with a single phoenix tail feather. Hmm.. who did you say you were again, young man?"

"I didn't. I am Evan Gauntless " Evan spoke with an even tone. " Did you not want to part with it? I'm in quite a hurry to leave now, but whatever the difference is, I'll pay it."

The old gentleman seem to shake himself from his thoughts and spoke as he gave the wand back to Evan, "I had expected to give this wand to one Stephan Potter, but alas, it is not the wizard who chooses the wand, but the wand who chooses the wizard." The old man said looking at Evan directly, "Be it terrible or wondrous, great things are expected from the wizard who holds this wand, Mr. Gauntless."

Evan could only give the wand seller an incredulous look as he said, "If great things are expected with this wand, then… "

But the old shopkeeper would not hear any of hit as he bowed Evan from the store. "That wand is a fair trade if I do say so myself. Good day Mr. Gauntless., and good luck on catching that train."

He could only open his mouth to close it, before taking his trunk and walking out with it. Great things, he thought as he looked to the wand. "How can he expect great things just by the wand he sells me?" he thought to himself, setting the wand into his back pocket, walking along the alley towards the Leaky Cauldron.

With the slight mumble of, "so much for that owl" he left Diagon Ally through the Leaky Cauldron, and wandered into Central London with only the rolled up parchment for a map.

The parchment seemed very old and ragged, with torn edges missing parts to the map. There were several buildings in the map that did not exist and vice versa, but if it was enough to get him from the Leaky Cauldron to Kings Cross Station, he didn't care. To make his travel quicker and easier, he magic-ed his trunk to float alongside behind him as if it were on soundless wheels, and opted to hop along the rooftops of buildings. Some muggle passerby's pointed every now and then but he would be gone before their fingers straightened for the point.

He did hop onto a bulky mechanical contraption in which muggles used to travel and carry large items on to hitch a ride, but ended up on the streets walking along with everyone else within a block or two of the station. A little muggle girl noticed his wheel-less trunk when he jumped down from the bulky mechanical contraption, but her silly muggle mother paid no mind like muggle parents often did when they hear something incredulous from the mouths of their young offspring.

He later unmagicked the trunk and began to drag it around on the muggle walkway to be a little less conspicuous. Sure it scrapped along the ground and Evan looked rather silly in the way he dragged it along with one arm and looking at his ticket with the other. When he arrived between platforms nine and ten, he could only scratch his head, wondering to ask a muggle worker if wizarding platforms lay anywhere else. Once or twice he was tempted to ask, but stopped himself knowing it would be useless just by looking at their faces. In the end he opted to sit down on his trunk by the column which separated the two muggle platforms, and wait for likely candidates who where headed to the same train he was.

None came and it worried him, he wondered if he was already too late, and the train could be leaving. In his worry he bent his head back to knock it against the column, but the hard surface of the column never came, making him fall backwards and onto the hard cement floor. Surprised, he stood and found himself between portals, where the column had been. He looked to where he fell and found Hogwarts Express, the train bellowing its black smoke, and students filling inside with their families on the outside waving to them.

He looked at his clock, and with alarm, quickly got his trunk and began to run over to the train. If it left on the dot as most usually trains do, he had not even a minute to spare before the train would start its move. With amazing skill and ease he managed to fish through the crowd of family right in time to catch the train moving away from him. In one of the last cabooses he spotted an open window, just big enough for his trunk. Since he had little to no choices left for him he mustered up the rest of his trunk and tossed it in, without thinking to who it may have been inside. The train picked up speed and he winged it, leaping from the edge of the platform and just grasping the edges of the window.

It was the hardest pull up of the day and was glad he wore no cloak to weigh him down, pulling in first his right arm, followed by his left as the train picked up speed. His arms straightened and he pulled forward, dropping into a roll, where he knocked into his trunk, got up and found himself a seat opposite of two very stunned Hogwarts students.

"Is this your first year too?"

Last notes: See something amiss? Errors, some really really bad grammer problems or just hate it/love it? Leave a comment. ;p