The next day, Izuku wakes at his normal early time, and runs and showers before Mrs. Weasley is even starting breakfast.

"You're up early, dear," she says, when Izuku, freshly showered, wanders into the kitchen.

"Yeah," he agrees. "I accidentally slept in yesterday."

"Another early riser, then," Percy says, sweeping downstairs and accepting a couple hardboiled eggs from Mrs. Weasley. "There's not many in this household."

"Yeah, I guess," Izuku agrees.

Percy is, once again, off early, and Izuku eats breakfast with the rest of the family.

"Oh, Midoriya, Albus wrote me. He'll be here by ten to pick you up and get your waiver taken care of," Mrs. Weasley says towards the end, when everyone's finishing up eating. Izuku nods, while Ron frowns at him.

"Waiver? What kind of waiver?" he asks.

"He's getting an underage magic waiver so he can practice over the summer," Mrs. Weasley replies. "It will take him a lot of work to get caught up to where he's supposed to be with his schooling."

"Oh, lucky bloke," Fred groans, leaning dramatically on George's shoulder. "Imagine what we could do if—"

"No." Mrs. Weasley shakes her finger at him. "No, no, no, I do not want to imagine. The two of you already get yourselves into more than enough trouble as is."

Ron sighs around his mouthful of eggs and looks up dreamily towards the ceiling. "Sure would be nice to have an underage magic waiver."

"What, so you can make yourself puke slugs at home, too?" Ginny asks with a raised eyebrow.

Ron turns and glares at her. "That was only because my wand was broken!"

"Yeah." She presses her lips together and nods. "Right. Sure."

Izuku looks back and forth between the two of them. Horror grows in his gut. "Puke … slugs?"

"Mhm." Ginny nods. "In his second year, he tried to hex someone, and it backfired, making him puke slugs for hours. It was hilarious, honestly."

She says her entire explanation while fending off Ron's attempts to cover her mouth with his hand.

"Teaches him right, too," Mrs. Weasley adds, nodding. "Honestly. Trying to hex people over schoolyard disagreements?" She shakes her head.

"Mum—"

"I don't want to hear it, Ron," she cuts him off.

Ron, disgruntled, crosses his arms and leans back in his seat. He glares down at his half-finished breakfast.

"Oh, cheer up, Ronniekins," Fred begins.

George adds, "We think that your attempt to hex Malfoy was great!"

"You two, hush." Mrs. Weasley points her fork at the twins, who both give her identical shit-eating grins.

When everyone has finished breakfast, Izuku leaves the dining room with Ron, following a few steps behind him as the taller boy ascends the stairs. "Why did you try to hex the … Malfoy kid?" Hopefully he remembered the name correctly.

Ron frowns. "He's a prat. Just a right arse. He called Hermione—er, my friend—he called her …." Ron trails off with a grimace. "It's not a nice word, and don't tell my mum I said it, but he called her a mudblood."

"I don't know what that means." Izuku blinks and tilts his head.

"So, she's a muggleborn, right, which means that she's a witch who was born to non-magical parents. And …. That word …. Is about her blood, basically calling it impure. Muddy."

"And blood is … important?"

"It's not, not really." Ron shakes his head. "But some people think it is. See, there's some witches and wizards who think that having all magical family makes you better than everyone else. They're the ones who care. Reasonable blokes don't."

"Okay." Izuku nods. So, it's like quirked versus quirkless, almost. Except that, in this situation, the quirkless … still have a quirk.

Kind of like him.

In the part of his mind where the vestiges rest, one of them draws closer to the surface, listening in on the conversation. Shinomori is more apt to listen without speaking, observing Izuku's actions without comment.

It was strange, at first. Now, after months of learning how to co-exist with the ghosts in his head, it's a comfort. Especially here, in this land of magic and strangers.

Izuku pulls out of his musings when he notices Ron has paused outside his bedroom door. The other boy squints down at him, a puzzled expression on his face.

"You really don't know much about Wizarding Britain, do you?"

"Next to nothing," Izuku agrees, nodding.

"Do you … want me to explain a bit more?" Ron jerks his thumb over his shoulder, pointing towards his bedroom door.

Izuku blinks several times in rapid succession. Something warm settles into his chest.

"Sure," he agrees, following Ron into his room.

Ron's room is an explosion of eye-searing orange. More posters filled with moving images plaster the walls, each one declaring loyalty to a quidditch team called the Chudley Cannons. The bed is decked out in a single blanket, with a pile of them balled up at the foot of it for use when it isn't summer.

"So." Ron flops onto his bed. "What do you want to know?"

Izuku doesn't know exactly what he wants to know yet, so he lets Ron pick and choose. Conversation meanders through a variety of topics Ron finds important. Considering he's a fourteen-year-old boy, these topics aren't exactly what Izuku, sixteen-year-old hero student, finds necessary to know. They do provide him with a clearer picture of the world he's ended up in, though.

"Yeah, and they probably won't like you much," Ron says at one point. "Your eyes are odd, mate, they'll definitely think you have some kind of creature blood …. Do you have creature blood?"

Izuku raises an eyebrow, before lowering it and shrugging. "I don't know."

He does not, unless you count quirks as 'creature blood'. In that case …. Technically, he still does not.

Izuku can't spend as long talking to Ron as he maybe would have liked to. As it draws closer to ten in the morning, Mrs. Weasley hollers up the stairs to remind him about his meeting with Dumbledore.

"I should go get ready for that, now," he says to Ron, giving the other boy a sheepish grin. "Thank you for telling me about Britain. I appreciate it."

"Yeah, sure, anytime, mate."

Izuku walks downstairs. He is stopped by Mrs. Weasley as soon as she catches sight of him.

"Go get changed!" She shoos him back towards the room he's staying in. "You can't wear that to the Ministry!"

What's he supposed to get changed into? All he has are casual hand-me-downs, unless she wants him to change into his gym uniform, which he doubts she does.

Still, he does as he's asked, spending a few minutes digging around in the drawers until he finds a white button-up shirt and a nicer pair of jeans. Shinomori politely fades away in the back of Izuku's mind, giving him privacy to change, before returning. He is still just as silent as he was before.

When he walks back into the living room, she isn't anywhere to be found in there or the kitchen, so he sticks his head outside to see her working in the garden. He steps outside (it is so weird, how everyone just … wears their shoes in the house) and walks over to her, hands in his pockets.

She looks up as he approaches and raises her eyebrows, mouth a little "o" of surprise. "I think that shirt used to be Charlie's. Never saw him wear it."

"Ah." Izuku nods. "Uh, if you're still doing work in the garden when I get back from the Ministry, I could help."

"Oh, that's sweet of you to offer, but it really isn't necessary," she replies, smiling.

"I want to."

Before Mrs. Weasley has a chance to reply to that, a chime sounds from inside the house. Both of them startle, turning towards it.

"Oh, that must be Albus!" Mrs. Weasley rushes towards the kitchen door, setting her rake next to it as she shoulders it open.

Izuku follows, slower, but not dragging his feet about it. When he enters the kitchen, both Dumbledore and Mrs. Weasley are chatting merrily with each other.

"Ah, there you are, Mr. Midoriya," Dumbledore says, turning towards Izuku with a smile. "Are you ready for your trip to the Ministry?"

"Yes, sir," Izuku nods.

"That's good to hear. We'll be traveling by Floo again: the address is 'the Ministry of Magic'. You first, and I'll follow." Dumbledore gestures towards the fireplace which, unlike when Izuku walked by it to go to the garden, now has a fire crackling merrily within it.

Izuku nods and walks up to the grate. He takes a pinch of the white powder from the pot on top of the mantle and tosses it in. The fire turns green, he states his destination, then steps in, ignoring the discomfort in his chest at the thought of stepping into a fire.

Danger Sense doesn't go off, which is, at least, a plus. It makes it slightly easier for him to ignore his hard-earned self-preservation.

You spend enough time training with Todoroki, eventually, you learn that fire is hot.

Izuku has a healthy respect for fire now.

After all the spinning, he stumbles out of a fireplace while holding back the urge to vomit. And he thought Float was bad ….

He looks up, eyes bugging out of his head as he takes in the room around him.

Now, he's seen impressive sights before. He's fought alongside All Might, seen UA and floated high above Tokyo at night and climbed mountains.

This room is easily among them as one of the most awe-inspiring sights he's seen. A dark ceiling soars above him, curved and formed from sleek green-black bricks. The long hallway leads towards an open room with a huge golden fountain in it.

A whoosh behind him and a slight twinge from Danger Sense tell Izuku to move out of the way as Dumbledore steps out of the fireplace. The man has a slight smile on his face as he takes in Izuku's expression.

"Impressive, isn't it?"

"It's big," Izuku replies, turning back to look at the fountain.

Dumbledore hums. "It is. The Ministry is the largest employer of magical peoples in the UK. It's one of the hubs of our world. Come now. Our business is with the Department of Magical Law Enforcement."

Dumbledore sweeps off across the floor, robes billowing around his legs. Izuku follows, used to walking fast to keep up with taller people.

As they walk, he glances around, taking in the hall around them. The bricks shimmer with a dark shine that halfway reminds him of Blackwhip's oil-slick appearance.

The shapes of the golden fountain become clearer as they approach. Four beings circle around a central figure: a woman, two smaller humanoid shapes, and a centaur, all orbiting (presumably via magic) around a man with a wand held aloft.

It leaves a bad taste in Izuku's mouth, so he looks away.

Dumbledore leads him to an elevator in the same room as the fountain. The doors automatically open as they approach, letting a few people in purple robes off.

"Ah! Professor Dumbledore. I didn't know you had business in the ministry today," one of the purple-robed people, a dark-skinned man with a bald head, says. "What brings you by?"

"Good morning, Auror Shacklebolt," Dumbledore replies, smiling. "I'm escorting in Mr. Midoriya here for an underage magic waiver. Due to unfortunate circumstances I'm not at liberty to share, he will be needing to do some self-study this summer so he can begin Hogwarts with a group of students closer to his age group than the first years."

Shacklebolt nods. "Ah. I see." He turns to Izuku, dark eyes looking him up and down. "Welcome to Britain. I wish better circumstances had brought you."

"Thank you," Izuku replies.

"Now, if you'll excuse me, it appears I must catch back up with the rest of my squad. Good-bye, Professor, and best of luck with your own catch-up, Midoriya."

Shacklebolt strides off, moving quick to catch the other purple-robed people who had started heading off without him.

"Auror Shacklebolt has a noble spirit few men can match," Dumbledore muses, watching him for a few moments before turning towards the elevator.

Izuku follows him into the elevator. Dumbledore presses the button for the second floor, and the elevator begins descending. Blinking, Izuku takes a moment to process that before deciding the Ministry must be underground.

The ride is short and the doors open after a piercing ding. Dumbledore leads Izuku down a hallway. They pass doors leading to offices, meeting rooms, storage rooms, file rooms, break rooms, getting stopped occasionally by people who know Dumbledore. Every time someone hails him, he pauses to exchange a few words with them before continuing.

Dumbledore stops outside a door that looks just like every other door they've passed already.

"Here we are," he says, putting his hand on the doorknob. "The Improper Use of Magic office."

He opens the door and steps over the threshold. Izuku follows, glancing around at the office they enter. Several desks are arranged around the room, each one occupied by someone bent over parchment with quill scribbling furiously. Pieces of thick paper, all folded into different shapes, flit around in and out of the room and from desk to desk, unfolding when they reach their destination with nary a crease in them.

"Professor Dumbledore!" A woman sitting near the door calls out. "That's right, you have an appointment with the Head today, right?"

"I do." Dumbledore nods. "Is she busy currently?"

The woman stands up from her desk. "Not that I'm aware of, no." Briskly, she walks towards a door on the other side of the room and peers through the glass. "She does not appear to have any guest at the moment—shall I announce your arrival?"

"Please, thank you, Miss Hopkirk."

"You're welcome." Miss Hopkirk knocks on the door.

The voice that calls out from inside pitches itself high, almost obnoxiously so. "Yes, Miss Hopkirk?"

She opens the door. "Professor Dumbledore is here to see you. He had an appointment with you?"

"Ah, yes, send him in."

Miss Hopkirk steps aside and gestures for them to enter. She shoots Izuku a sympathetic look as he walks past her. "Best of luck," she whispers.

"Thank you." He doesn't know what she's wishing him luck for, although he does appreciate it.

An explosion of pink fills his sight as he enters the office. Frilly floral wallpaper covers the walls and the shelves are filled with kitten-covered china.

"What can I do for you, Professor?"

The women behind the desk smiles up at Dumbledore, ignoring Izuku's presence entirely.

"I believe I owled you about this young man," Dumbledore replies, gesturing to Izuku. "Including a request for an underage magic allowance for him."

"Mm, yes, what's the story here, again?" Her smile widens, wrinkling the corners of her eyes.

Izuku does not feel safe in front of this smile, but Danger Sense has yet to go off, so he takes a deep breath and holds it. After a moment, he lets it go, breathing out slowly.

"Wasn't it …." She taps her fingers, adorned with gaudy rings, on the desk. Long nails, painted pink to match her pink shawl and pink walls, clack against the wood. "You found him, neglected by his muggle family and denied his magical education, during your travels in Japan this summer? So, I'm curious, why aren't the Japanese handling his case?"

"A good question. Unfortunately, there are legal reasons for why he's under my care that I cannot share with you. You understand, of course, as the Head of this office." Dumbledore smiles, on the surface benign and genial.

The Head nods. "I do understand." She pulls a fresh sheet of parchment out and dips her quill in the inkwell. "His name?"

Dumbledore glances at Izuku, raising an eyebrow. Nice to know he hasn't actually been forgotten.

"Mi—uh, Izuku Midoriya." He stumbles over the name order, kicking himself internally. He was better in Present Mic's class than this!

"Izuku Midoriya," the Head repeats, coming up with the worst mispronunciation of his name he's heard from an English-speaker yet. "Age?"

"Sixteen."

"The reason you're requesting an underage magic allowance?"

"Study-at-home to catch up to my age group at Hogwarts."

"Residence?"

Dumbledore steps in here. "He's staying with Molly and Arthur Weasley at the Burrow this summer."

The Head presses her lips together and scribbles that down. "Wand specifications?"

She asks this, and the sinking feeling that perhaps Izuku should have actually considered bringing that with him today sits heavy in his gut. He struggles to think back to what it was—there's a slip in the box with the specifications written down on it, what were they …. Right. "Cypress and dragon heartstring, eleven and a half inches."

"From Ollivander's?"

"Yes," he nods.

She purses her lips and nods as she writes this down. "Good, good. Ollivander's, high quality wands. You can't find the same quality anywhere else in the world."

Izuku remains silent, unwilling to comment.

"Now, may I see it?"

He cringes, looking down and wringing his hands together. "I, ah … forgot it?"

"You … forgot it."

Her voice implies that she thinks he is incredibly stupid.

He does his best not to slip into mumbling, making sure to speak each word clearly. "I am still not used to magic. I apologize."

"I will take responsibility for this," Dumbledore says, placing a hand on Izuku's shoulder. "As his temporary guardian, and the one who removed him from his unfortunate situation, I should have considered the fact he's not used to having a wand to carry with him and should have reminded him. You can still issue the allowance, of course?"

The Head hums, and Izuku chances a glance up to check her expression. She's staring down at her sheet of parchment, a wrinkle in her brow. "I …. Yes, I can."

She picks her quill up and scribbles one more thing on her parchment before picking up her wand and waving it over the parchment. Izuku watches as it folds itself up and flutters off, slipping through the crack underneath the door.

"I will send you an owl with your allowance information on it as soon as the request goes through." She smiles. It is not a nice smile.

"If it's all the same to you, we'll wait out in the main office for it to return. It shouldn't take very long, should it?" Dumbledore keeps his tone light and amiable.

The Head's smile twists, such a small amount that Izuku barely sees it. "You're a very busy man, Professor—"

"Not so busy that I can't assure my charge receives his paperwork."

"Very well." Her smile is now stretched over her face like a hide on a frame to tan. She looks towards Izuku, and for the first time since he entered her office, she looks him in the eye.

He does not miss the expression of disgust which flits across her face, nor the twinge of Danger Sense in his temple.

Dumbledore, his hand still on Izuku's shoulder, leads him out of the Head's office. They spend the next half-hour in the main office, where Dumbledore chats with the workers there while Izuku tries not to melt out of mortification or over-think the whole meeting with the Head.

Miss Hopkirk is the one who hands Izuku a thick paper card. It's nothing special, just his name, age, and residence, along with a number.

"If you happen to get any warnings for underage magic, just send a return owl with a letter addressed to me. Make sure you include that number on your card so we can double check. Okay?"

Izuku nods, slipping the card into his pocket. "Thank you very much."

"You're very welcome."

He follows Dumbledore back out into the hallway and to the elevator. The moment the doors close, Izuku devolves into a mess of spoken-too-fast apologies.

"I am so sorry, I didn't even think about needing my wand, it won't happen again—"

"Relax, Mr. Midoriya." Dumbledore holds up a hand, cutting Izuku off. "There's no harm done. Truthfully, it's not even necessary for her to have your wand specifications to issue the allowance. Madame Umbridge is, alas, simply difficult to work with on the best of days."

That must be the Head's name: Umbridge. He hadn't seen it on her door, or on any placards on her desk.

Strange.

"Regardless, I trust that you'll likely not be caught without it again, especially now that you can really begin learning magic."

"Of course." Izuku nods. "Thank you for—everything."

The elevator dings and the doors open, releasing them back into the cavernous top floor.

"You're very welcome."

Together, they walk past the fountain and to the nearest fireplace. The return trip to the Burrow is just as speedy as the away trip, first Izuku and then Dumbledore popping out of the Weasleys' fireplace.

"Oh, there you are!" Mrs. Weasley bustles over, appearing from the hallway. "Everything went smoothly, I hope?"

"It did indeed," Dumbledore replies, nodding. "I'll be off, now. We have a lot to prepare for the upcoming term. I'll be in contact about scheduling Mr. Midoriya's placement exams and sorting."

"I'll be looking for your owl!" Mrs. Weasley calls to Dumbledore as he leaves the house. A moment later, a loud crack echoes through the valley as he apparates away.

Izuku stares at the door before turning to Mrs. Weasley. "Why owls?"

"Oh!" She startles and turns toward him. "We train owls to send our mail."

What.

Odd, Shinomori speaks up for the first time since he had come to the front.

Definitely odd, Izuku agrees. Outwardly, he nods. "Do you have an owl?"

"Our family has two," Mrs. Weasley replies. "Our family owl, Errol, is currently out delivering a letter. Percy has his own owl, Hermes."

"Ah," Izuku nods. "I'm going to—go change."

"Of course." Mrs. Weasley nods and smiles. Izuku does his best to smile back at her before turning and leaving down the hallway leading to the room he's staying in.

This world is very odd. Shinomori's voice is contemplative.

"Yeah," Izuku whispers as he shuts the door behind himself. He switches to Japanese to continue, but still speaks softly, so no one will hear him talking to himself. "Their Ministry felt weird. It was uncomfortable."

Their Ministry was very uncomfortable, Shinomori agrees. You saw that fountain, right? The way every other … being orbited the man?

Izuku nods. He had.

Shinomori says nothing more. All Izuku gets from him is a feeling of thoughtfulness.

That fountain had been odd, but that wasn't the only thing off: the way everyone treated the Head of the Improper Use of Magic office ….

Yeah, she was a complete bitch, wasn't she?

"Hello, Banjou."

Danger Sense had spiked when she looked at him. Hopefully, he'll never have to meet her again.