The next four and a half years practically flew by. The older Harry got, the more he resembled a younger version of James, thought Roger and Sirius. In addition to her brilliant emerald-green eyes, Harry also inherited Lily's sharp mind and stubbornness. He was able to achieve top marks in his classes without exerting too much effort, and despite his rather slight build, he was the starting right wing on the local junior ice hockey team. Coach Butler rarely gushed over any of his players, but Harry's slapshot was special. He attacked the puck like a madman, and his shot found the net more often than not.

Roger, Rhonda, and Sirius went to all of Harry's games and cheered him on without fail. Sirius and Roger couldn't help but compare Harry's skill on the ice to how well James handled a broom on the quidditch pitch. Thanks to Harry's natural skill with a stick, the Kodiaks had won two straight Junior League championships and Harry was chomping at the bit to make it three.

However, in early July 1991, Harry's life would change forever, when a strange letter arrived by owl at the Woodwards' townhome, addressed to a Mister H. Potter at 57 Skylark Drive in Surrey:

"Dear Mr. Potter:

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Ilvermorny School of Witchcraft and Wizardry in Massachusetts, U.S.A.

Students shall be required to report to the Chamber of Reception upon arrival, the dates for which shall be duly advised.

Please ensure that the utmost attention be made to the list of requirements attached herewith.

We very much look forward to receiving you as part of the new generation of Ilvermorny heritage.

Yours sincerely,

Professor Emaline Goode

Deputy Headmistress"

Harry did a double-take after reading the letter in the living room. "What does this all mean?" he asked, the confusion apparent in his voice.

Roger sighed, and revealed the truth to Harry. "It means you have the capability of learning magic, Harry. I'm sure you've noticed that strange things happen on occasion when you get hurt, or scared… it's not a coincidence."

"Your Uncle Roger and I are both wizards," chimed in Sirius. "As were your parents."

Harry then looked at Rhonda. "What about you, Aunt Rhonda? Do you know magic?"

Rhonda could only shake her head sadly. "I'm afraid not, dear. I don't have your gift… but while I do have my personal reservations, this is your calling, Harry. You need to go to Ilvermorny and learn magic, because from what your Uncle Roger has told me before, if you don't properly harness your faculties, you could be a danger to yourself and others."

Sirius shrugged. "You could also follow in your parents' footsteps and go to Hogwarts in Scotland, if you'd like. Normally it's for British students only, but as you're a legacy they'll have no choice but to accept you."

"No, for his safety, he needs to stay in North America," replied Roger gently yet firmly. "James and Lily would agree, I'd wager."

Sirius smirked. "I suppose an education is an education… while Ilvermorny isn't as tradition-steeped as Hogwarts, I guarantee it's a quality institution nonetheless." His smirk grew into a full smile. "And as your eleventh birthday is right around the corner, I'll cover any and all expenses for your first term at Ilvermorny. I'll even get you an owl, if you'd like."

"But I thought you were disinherited," replied Roger, slack-jawed. "How can you even afford that?"

Sirius chuckled. "Hahahaha. The goblins at Gringotts didn't know that. They're too busy counting gold coins to care about wizarding family affairs… If you can believe it, I still have access to the Black family vault – in fact, not long after I came to Canada, I transferred a sizable sum to a private account in North America that nobody in Britain can touch without my explicit permission! I reckon it'll tide me over for a good, long while."

Roger couldn't help but laugh. "That's a pretty Slytherin move there, Padfoot."

Sirius could only shrug in response. "Well Pup, I suppose we should take a look at that supply list and get you ready for your first year at Ilvermorny…" He looked at Roger. "Say, Rog, where is the nearest wizarding district from here?"

"There's Nessel Rode in Boston, which is a stone's throw from Ilvermorny. That's the only wizarding community I've ever spent time in, at least in North America," replied Roger. "To my knowledge, there are other wizarding communities in the continent, but I guarantee Nessel Rode will have everything Harry needs, and then some."

On Harry's eleventh birthday – July the 31st – Harry, Sirius, and the Woodwards traveled to Boston to shop for supplies for Harry's upcoming first term at Ilvermorny. They booked a Muggle flight from Vancouver to Boston, and took a taxi to a rather run-down looking pub called The Cracked Phial.

"A rather poor imitation of The Leaky Cauldron," mused Sirius as he entered the establishment. A middle-aged gentleman with bushy flame-red hair, and equally bushy mutton chops greeted the group from behind the counter. "Roger Woodward! It's been a while since I've seen you around these parts," the bartender exclaimed with a strong Northeastern accent. "Never thought I'd see you again."

"It has been a while, Jasper," replied Roger. "I'm afraid I'm just here on official business today. You see, young Harry here has his first term to look forward to, and I want to make sure he's fully-prepared."

"Well, hello young Harry," Jasper added with a chuckle. "I think you'll like Ilvermorny. It's not as fancy as Hogwarts, but the faculty here are a little bit less full of themselves." He pointed the group toward the back of the pub. "I'm guessing you'll want to get to Nessel Rode to do some shopping. If you'll follow me…" He led them to an ostensibly solid brick wall, with no decorations or other markings indicating that a doorway existed, then produced a long black wand from thin air, and traced the outline of a doorway. One by one, the bricks began to disappear, forming an archway.

"All right, Hare, what does your list say as far as books go?" asked Roger as they traversed the long, winding cobbled pathway. "Scryer's is the bookstore around here, and it's just over there, if memory serves," he added, pointing at an eleven o'clock direction.

Harry dug into his pocket and unfolded a parchment. "Hmm," he said, glossing over the list:

"The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 1 by Miranda Goshawk

A History of Magic by Bathilda Bagshot

Magical Theory by Adalbert Waffling

A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration by Emeric Switch

One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi by Phyllida Spore

Magical Drafts and Potions by Arsenius Jigger

Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them by Newt Scamander

The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection by Quentin Trimble"

"Like I said, Harry, your tuition and supplies are on me," Sirius said with a silly grin. "Let's go inside this Scryer's shop and get you all the reading material you need." He followed Harry and the Woodwards inside. Harry was about to look for the first book on his list – "The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 1" – but he lost his focus for a split second, and boof! He bumped into another child, roughly his age he figured, and several books came spilling out of her arms.

"Oh goodness, I'm so terribly sorry," Harry said as he quickly gathered all the books that scattered on the floor. "I guess I got distracted for a moment." He fully expected the girl to turn around but give him what what-for, but instead, she smiled at him and giggled. The girl was quite cute, Harry thought. She was petite… maybe an inch or so taller than Harry and about as slim, and had long, slightly wavy russet brown hair that went past her shoulders, and her eyes were a distinct yellowish-greenish hazel. She had faded freckles on either side of her button-like nose, and her smile… well, it was exceptionally lovely to say the least.

"Did you just say sore-y?" she said with a giggle. "You must be Canadian." She smiled again as she placed her books in a bag, then thrust her right hand out to Harry. "Anyhoo, I'm Ana Harrison from South Bend, Indiana. It's short for Anastasia. It's Greek for resurrection – did you know?"

Harry suddenly felt giddy. None of the girls back in Surrey ever gave him the time of day, but this Ana girl… she was very friendly, to say the least. "Yeah, I'm from Canada all right. And I'm Harry. Harry Potter from Surrey. It's by Vancouver," replied Harry with a bit of a nervous stutter as he shook her hand. "I'm a first-year student… this is so new to me, so I don't really know what to expect."

"Oh, so you're no-maj born then too?" asked Ana. "I'm about to be a second-year student… a Horned Serpent, actually. To put it in layman's terms, it's where the smart students usually end up. Maybe we could be housemates – friends, even!"

Harry smiled – he certainly liked the sound of that. A friend at his new school, right off the bat! "Yeah, that sounds terrific! So tell me, how did you end up as a Horned Serpent? What other, erm, options are there?"

Ana covered her mouth with one hand to stifle another round of giggles. "Oh goodness Harry, you're just going to have to find that out for yourself! As far as the other houses – there's Wampus, Pukwudgie, and the Thunderbirds… they're all good houses, really." She cocked her head. "And you didn't answer my question – are you no-maj born?"

Harry shook his head 'no'. "My parents were both magical, but they were killed in Great Britain just about ten years ago. I was raised by my Aunt Rhonda, who isn't magical, and my Uncle Roger and to a lesser extent, my godfather Sirius, both of whom are magical. Neither of them showed me much magic, I'm afraid, so I might as well be no-maj born."

"I'm sure there's a good reason they didn't tell you much about magic," surmised Ana. She once again flashed that beautiful smile of hers. "Don't worry too much about it, Harry. I can show you the ropes once we get to the castle on September 1st. I don't mean to toot my own horn, but I did finish top of my year last year…"

"I'm no slouch in the classroom either," Harry said. "I'm sure that the classes at Ilvermorny are very different than my non-magical classes, but I think I'll be up for the challenge."

"A lot of no-maj born kids say that, Harry," warned Ana. "I'm sure you're plenty bright, but don't get too cocky… you're going to have to study your butt off if you're going to even sniff the top five because I guarantee you won't be the only smart one in your house, let alone your whole year! I can't even begin to tell you how many hours I've spent in the library last year…"

"If you want to study with me, I won't turn down a study partner," said Harry tactfully. "From what I can tell, you seem to be a nice girl, and you also seem to know what you're doing. You never know when I could use the help."

Ana flashed that hundred-watt smile of hers again. "Good. Even if you end up in another house, I'll be happy to be your study-buddy. You do seem to be a sweet boy, even if you are a teensy bit clumsy." She again tried to stifle a giggle.

"I'm not that clumsy," grumbled Harry indignantly. "I'm the leading scorer on my local ice hockey team, thank-you-very-much."

Ana gave Harry a small, playful shove. "Oh chill, Harry. I'm just playin' with you."

Suddenly, a woman that Harry surmised to be Ana's mother called out for her. "Hey, I gotta go, Harry. It was really nice meeting you! I'll see you at the castle in about a month, mmkay?"

"It was really nice meeting you too, Ana," Harry replied as he waved good-bye to his new friend. "I can't wait to see you again!"