The boy and his father sat down in their room in the Leaky Cauldron, organising the things they bought from the wizarding town at Diagon Alley. They had bought plain black robes, a series of books that the boy would need for school, an actual cauldron; made of pewter; a dodgy cooking material at best and finally a proper; wizarding wand. The man who sold it to him, Ollivander, said that it was made of Oak, with a core of a Dragon's heartstring and thirteen inches. It disturbed both the boy and his father that the heart of an endangered magical beast would be harvested for use in a small block of wood but it is an effective form of channelling magic through a medium.

'Father, have you ever used a… wand before?' asked the boy, curiously palming the thirteen inches of oak in his hand.

'Yes, yes. I have. They are easy to use but they supress your magical power. They direct the flow of magic and focus it onto a single beam or point. Yet it makes your magic less powerful, at least that's how it works for us, for these wizards' – a patron of the Leaky Cauldron was walking past as he spoke – 'for these wizards, it maximises their magical potential tenfold.'

The boy went to give his wand a proper try and went to cast a simple levitation spell. He pointed his wand at a candlestick and started to say the incantation for the spell. His father saw what he was doing and grabbed the boy's hand before he could cast the spell.

'Son, I'm sorry but I can't let you do that.' He said calmly, noting the confusion on his son's face. 'It's against the law for wizards under the age of seventeen to use magic outside of their education. So you've got to go to school to be able to use your magic. Remember, Albus will take over your Maxia training.'

The boy lowered his wand and grumbled. 'They're so strict here, what's the harm in letting children use magic?'

'Wizards don't start teaching their children to control their magic until they turn eleven, unless they're home-schooled. So you're going to have to adjust to alot of things about Wizarding society. So am I. Oh yes, I've just remembered. Your train ticket.'

'My what?'

'Sorry.' HIs father laughed at his son's confusion. 'I should have given you a little more time to process the other stuff. You're getting to school by train. There is a magical platform hidden at Kings Cross Station, that's going to be how you'll get to and from Hogwarts.'

The boy just looked blankly at his father trying to get his head around the idea of not being able to use magic whenever he likes and the idea of catching a train to a boarding school in the middle of the Scottish countryside. He wanted to say something profound but all that came out was: 'I'm tired, I think I'll go to bed.'

'Alright. Don't sleep for too long though. I've got something I want to show you.'

The boy smiled and walked into his bedroom. 'Alright father. Wake me soon.'