"Gather your things. You won't be coming back here." the oily man said. Cyrus moved to obey, gathering his most prized possessions. The money he had saved up, a cool shiny rock he had found, and his favorite sweatshirt which had an upside down check mark symbol and text that said "Just Don't". With everything important to him gathered, the professor gave a lazy wave of his wand and his things zoomed into the battered trunk at the foot of his bed. With a prodding sort of motion the trunk shrunk down to toy size and they boy took it carefully with wide eyes and such casual use of magic.

"I'll be taking you to gather the materials necessary for your classes now." Snape said, holding out his arm. Cyrus looked at the man questioningly before he shrugged and grabbed hold of the offered limb. There was a feeling of extreme discomfort like he was being squeezed from every angle and it was difficult to breathe. The feeling went away after just a moment and as his senses recalibrated while he tried desperately to not throw up. Finally mastering himself, Cyrus looked around and saw the strangest of sights. They had appeared in a long, broad street with many smaller streets branching off the main road. The place was packed to the brim with what looked like shops, housing, and people most of whom were wearing what looked like weird dresses.

"This is Diagon Alley, come along we're short on time." Cyrus had to practically jog to keep up with the man's long strides and billowing robes. Before long they were standing in front of a large ivory building with gold letters engraved into it.

Gringotts Wizarding Bank.

"Sir? What are we doing at a bank? I don't exactly have any money." Cyrus said, confused. His questions went unanswered and the greasy- haired man continued inside. The boy had no choice but to let out a frustrated sigh and follow after the man. When Cyrus finally caught back up Snape was already speaking to a teller. Except the person working there was unlike any person the young boy had ever seen. The being was short and had long pointy ears with teeth to match. But it was the eyes that gave Cyrus an odd tingling sensation on the back of his neck. They were small and lacked compassion which wasn't all that unusual, it was the deep rooted anger and disgust that was there instead that made the boy uneasy.

" Cyrus, this is Bearan, a goblin. His family has served the LeStranges for many generations and he will quickly and safely escort you to your vault." Snape didn't look at Cyrus as he spoke too busy staring the goblin down.

"Isnt that right Bearan?" Cyrus didn't have a lot of life experience on account of only being eleven but even he knew a threat when he heard one. Bearan meanwhile only gave a grunt and walked off giving a 'follow me motion'.

"While you're with him I will be getting a headstart on gathering the rest of your things. Meet at Ollivander's shop, near the beginning of the street." With his orders given the older wizard gave a swish of his dark cloak and disappeared into thin air, like magic.

"Cool!" Cyrus exclaimed before he trotted off in the direction he had seen Bearan go. Going

deeper into the building he found the goblin he was looking for waiting by some sort of mining cart.

"Sure did take your time." Bearan said angrily, the sound of his voice sounding like metal grinding against asphalt.

"Sorry. Professor Snape wanted a word with me." Cyrus gave a lukewarm apology. For some reason Bearan's eyes glinted with amusement.

"Get in, and keep all limbs inside the vehicle while its in motion." Bearan said with the tone of someone that had repeated that phrase a hundred times over. Cyrus did as instructed and with the pull of a lever the pair were off. Wind rushed through his long hair as they descended into the cavernous depths, gaining more speed and going through all manners of twists and drops. Cyrus couldn't help but smile like a lunatic at the thrill of the speed as they went deeper still. His grin left his face as he heard the sound of what sounded like rushing water.

SPLASH!

Cyrus coughed as they passed through the waterfall, with some of it finding a way to get up his nose. He was only vaguely aware of Bearan laughing at him. "This guy is a dickhead." Cyrus thought unfavorably. They went deeper still and by now the excitement had worn off. Or at least it did until he heard an animal let out a roar that echoed throughout the cavern accompanied by an orange glow just outside of his peripheral vision.

"What was that!?" the boy asked somewhat fearfully. Bearan let loose a nasty grin."It's where we're going." Cyrus closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and tried to push his fear deep within his chest. It was a skill that he had developed naturally, being able to bury his feelings in exchange for heightened focus and concentration. The technique sort of worked, he was no longer afraid but now he was hyper-focused on the swirling patterns that could be found in wooden handles he had been gripping.

Finally the cart lurched to a stop.

"Get out and keep close." Bearan grunted. Cyrus blinked as his focus was broken and was replaced by a sense of mental tiredness, but did as told nonetheless. Bearan handed a strange clanking device and they continued this time on foot.

As they walked he discovered what had made the strange noise earlier.

"Thats a fucking dragon." Cyrus's voice was filled with equal parts awe and disbelief.

CLANK CLANK CLANK

"It'll roast you if you keep standing there like a simpleton! Move boy!" Cyrus started at the goblin's shout. Catching on rather quickly Cyrus shook his own device adding to the noise and made the gargantuan dragon recoil. They walked quickly and once Bearan had stopped his clanking his device Cyrus followed suit as they stood in front of a massive door.

The goblin tapped the door with his index finger and there was a series of clicks as the door unlocked and swung open.

"HOLY SHIT!" Cyrus's exclamation was well warranted because the vault was positively massive and even better was filled to the stalactites with gold.

"How much is it?" The boy asked, his voice small.

"Hundreds of millions in gold, jewelry, artwork, deeds to property, and magical artifacts." Bearan replied. The goblin had seemed to pick up on the boy's mood and with a rare burst of empathy for humans placed his hand on the boy's shoulder.

"Go, enjoy your birthright. I'll be waiting outside when you're ready." Bearan handed Cyrus a small cloth pouch and stepped back.

Cyrus stepped into the vault with conflicting emotions. On one hand he was overjoyed, he would never have to work a day in his life again. On the other hand however, there was a deep bitterness. If this treasure trove was here all this time, what was the point of his struggling?

Cyrus had worked hard everyday for years, each day hoping it was enough to earn him the right to eat that day, he saved his money and held on to it greedily desperately telling himself that as long as he had his savings it didn't matter it adults didn't want to adopt the kid with the weird purple eyes, that as long as he had money he could always take care of himself. Cyrus's fist clenched and unclenched as he tried to collect himself. Finally, he took a deep breath, pushed his anger and bitterness aside and regained his hyperfocus. His movements were mechanical as he wandered around and piled shiny gold coins into the bag Bearan had given him. The boy didn't know how or why but somehow he had found himself drawn to the back end of the vault. It was there he found several peculiar items.

There were several large books, an old wand, and they were all sitting on top of a black box that was as big as he was. Cyrus stared at the box, magically transfixed. He reached a hand out, running his fingers across the smooth stone like material, as he did so he could hear whispers echo in his mind, just faint enough for him to know that they were there, yet the voice remained undecipherable.

"Hey kid! Let's get moving." It was Bearan's voice that called out to him, breaking his concentration for the second time that day. Cyrus stumbled and clutched his head as a painful headache and exhaustion suddenly made themselves known. Foolishly he chanced a look back at the box grabbing for the items that rested atop it. The old wand gave off a weak white spark as he grabbed it and shoved it into his money pouch which was starting to seem bottomless. He grabbed the books next, all of which were bound together in twine. He glanced at the title of the foremost tome.

"Totum Rector Umbrae Magicae"

Cyrus didn't know what language that was but he shrugged and took them too. His task done he went back with Bearan and started the long ascent towards the surface.

Cyrus squinted as his eyes readjusted to sunlight. He walked rather quickly keeping an eye out for the shop that Professor Snape had mentioned. Between the harsh summer sunlight and noise of the crowd the boy's headache throbbed painfully and Cyrus was eager to get somewhere quiet and shaded. It didn't take long before the boy spotted who he was looking for. He came to a stop in front of the tall man who gave him a single nod and gestured for him to go inside.

There was a ding of a bell as they crossed the threshold.

"I'll be right there!" an old, wizened voice called out. They only had to wait for a moment before emerged from the back of the shop.

"Welcome. Here for your first are you? Of course you are, let's get you fitted then. Now which arm is your wand arm?"

Cyrus, feeling just a tad overwhelmed from the speed of which he was being spoken to let out a mumble.

"Sorry lad, I didn't quite catch that." Ollivander said. "I said I'm right handed." Cyrus replied. Ollivander nodded, pulled his wand and gave it a wave, and Cyrus was for lack of a better term assaulted by a tape measure.

"Why does it need to know the distance between my eyebrows?" Cyrus thought. Then abruptly the tape measure fell to the floor and Ollivander presented him with a wand.

"Sycamore and unicorn hair, 10 inches even, and rather unyielding. Go on give it a wave." Cyrus shrugged and grabbed the wand. He didn't make it to the waving step because it was immediately snatched back.

"Hey!" Cyrus exclaimed, a tad indignant.

"Not to worry, it's all a part of the process. Now try this one. Beech and dragon heartstring, 11 and a half inches, and rather swishy."

Cyrus took the wand and was actually allowed to wave it. A putrid yellow smoke emerged from the tip and it was quickly snatched back. His eye twitched ever so slightly. "If this old man snatches something from me again I swear I'll…" Cyrus didn't get to finish the increasingly violent thought as he was presented with a third wand.

"Try this one. Blackthorn and phoenix feather, 13 inches , extremely flexible." Cyrus took it and as he held it let out a soft gasp as power indescribable rushed through him, from the crown of his head down to the tips of his toes.

"Go on. Wave it." Ollivander spoke softly. Cyrus did just that and something strange happened.

The shop darkened supernaturally, blocking out even the sunlight from outside. Then suddenly there was a cascade of lights that glowed and shined brightly in the dark. Purple, gold, red, blue, green, and silver too, there was a whole bunch of colors and it was the most beautiful sight the young wizard had ever seen. Then the light was gone and so too was the darkness.

"My word! Ambient magic! At such a young age as well. How strange." Ollivander rambled.

Cyrus felt oddly content and at peace after bonding with his wand but something Ollivander had said had caught his attention.

Ambient Magic. An image of the strange box he found in the LeStrange family vault flashed through his mind. Cyrus was filled with a curiosity so strong it burned within him. Even as professor Snape paid the shopkeep and tried to maneuver him out he couldn't help but blurt out.

"What's Ambient Magic?" Cyrus all but demanded. Everything stopped and Ollivander looked at him very seriously.

" I would not dwell on it if I were you young man. I admit my excitement got ahead of my mouth but the topic of Ambient Magic is Unspeakable. They make people disappear when someone looks too deeply into it. So if you know what's good for you, forget that I said anything."

As the duo of teacher and student left the wand shop Ollivander's grave warning would go unheeded. "Ambient Magic" those words bounced around Cyrus's head constantly. He had never felt so strongly about something in his life. Even as he walked down the Alley there was an all consuming, ever present, pit of need that formed deep within his very soul.

What was Ambient Magic?

What was the deal with the Whispering Box?

Cyrus didn't need to be a wizard to know that the questions would haunt him until he had the answers.