Welcome to the Eris server for Muggleborns of the upcoming Hogwarts class! We at Hogwarts recognize this is a particularly daunting transition and are committed to making the adjustment as smooth as possible. As people with feet in both worlds, you play an invaluable role in building a bridge between Muggles and mages, one that our society will treasure. I'm Charity Burbage, your friendly neighborhood Muggle Studies professor and newly appointed official Muggleborn counselor. I encourage you to seek me out if you have any issues when you get to Hogwarts. This is a forum for you to discuss any issues you might have so they can be handled appropriately. This discussion is moderated by yours truly, so please refrain from any foul language!

Presently in the chat:

Hermione Granger

Justin Flynn-Fletchley

Kellah DiMarco

Roger Malone

Kellah Ooh, I'm so excited about starting Hogwarts! My parents always thought there was something special about me. Course my Aunt Patricia always thought I was possessed by the Devil, but, hey, what the heck does she know?

Roger I don't know. I'm a little concerned about what I've been hearing about how Muggleborns are treated. Is it really worth it?

Justin Are you daft? It's magic. How can it not be worth it?

Hermione There's nothing we can't accomplish with grit and ingenuity. If people have reservations about us, then we just need to prove to them we're better than they are.

Kellah *rolls eyes* Sure, Hermione. Sure. Glad to see everything is sunshine and roses for you. Some of us know it's always an uphill climb.

Roger All right, all right, let's not fight about this. Change of subject: Am I the only person who's reading Harry Potter's blog? He's hilarious! Though I am a bit concerned about his home life. Are we quite sure it's safe there?

Hermione I had my parents make an official complaint to child services. I'm sure something will be done. My parents don't give up easily.

Justin I think it's hilarious how everyone has all these high expectations for Harry and all he wants out of life is to run a fish and chips shop.

Kellah Ten to one, he's going to absolutely freak when he learns how famous he is.

Roger I still don't understand how anything he's been writing is in any way legal. Isn't the Statute of Secrecy a thing? Surely he can't be above the law just because he's famous, not a law like this. We all know that if the government learns about us, we'll be experimented on. I'd quite like to avoid that.

Kellah Roger, you are a dead man walking if you turn in Harry Potter. I don't know what's going on behind the scenes, but I'm telling you right now: no one is to say a word about his blog to anyone not in the know. Or I'll come after you. I'm not going to let some goody two shoes ruin things.

Hermione I don't know why I had the distinct feeling everyone was looking at me. We're doing this over text! But, well, as loathe as I am to countenance illegal behavior, I do enjoy his blog entries. Anyway, I'm sure this matter is being handled at the highest levels. I'd prefer to stay uninvolved.

Justin That's probably the best we're going to get. Did you hear the potions teacher and head of Slytherin got sacked? Apparently, he's been extremely unprofessional in the classroom. They brought in some Irish guy to replace him as potions teacher. O'Neill, I think. The astronomy teacher, Professor Sinistra, is going to be the new head of Slytherin.

Kellah With a name like that, you've got to wonder what she's hiding. A little on the nose, don't you think?

Roger Well, her first name is Aurora, so I'd say that's a lot more on the nose.

Hermione I'm sure Professor Sinistra is going to be a fine head of Slytherin.

Kellah *makes cough that sounds like teacher's pet*

Hermione I'm sorry, but I know what it's like to have people look at you weird because your name! I don't like it!

Kellah Oh. Right, sorry. Good point.

Justin Anyone else heard the rumor the Philosopher's Stone is being kept at Hogwarts?

Hermione Don't be silly, Justin; that's completely daft.

Everything you thought you knew was wrong. Well, not everything. The Earth's still round, to the best of my knowledge. But I've got revelations aplenty for you all. It has been one heck of a day and I am super eager to tell you, my wonderful readers, all about it.

First of all, I want to start out by saying I have absolutely no idea how Hagrid got to the island, and figuring it out is driving me batty. Apparently, he flew, according to him. Yet he doesn't have a broomstick, there's no pegasus or other flying creature there he could have flown on, and he refused to fly back. Instead, we went back on the same boat we arrived on. My best guess is that he actually swam to the island and dried himself off magically. But for the life of me, if this is so, I can't imagine why he claimed he flew. Was he just trying to impress me?

Well, if that was the case, then, honestly, mission accomplished. On our way back to the mainland, Hagrid regaled me with all sorts of cool stories about traveling to exotic locales. He wrangled wild creatures and kissed a lot of men and women. And sometimes vice versa. To which I say, totally cool, dude. You be you. I mean, at the moment, I'm not sure what my thing even is, but I'm sure it's not going to be nonhumans. However, I've always believed in tolerance. To be technical, I actually believe in doing the opposite of what the Dursleys do.

Hagrid spent a lot of time complaining about the Ministry of Magic. Apparently, the Ministry is an autonomous government handling the affairs of the mages of Britain. It wasn't clear to me whether or not they actually are a part of the Muggle government, but one thing Hagrid made clear was that magical politicians are just as bad as the Muggle kind. Maybe worse, which is saying something. I've never much liked Prime Minister Islington-Lennox, since the Dursleys think he's the best prime minister Britain ever had. Besides, how can you trust a man whose initials are FAIL?

But I'm not really the type of person to be interested in politics. Most politicians are idiots. But then again, most people are idiots. That's why it's called representative democracy.

Hagrid tried his best to blend in with the crowd as we went on the train back to London, but given how gigantic he is, that was sort of an exercise in futility. I asked him question after question about the magical world. I found it absolutely fascinating how there could be a world under our nose that we didn't even notice. He told me a lot of interesting things. First of all, my parents were actually quite well off, not drunken crack whores. They kept their money in a vault in a bank called Gringotts.

And get this. Gringotts is run by goblins. And its gold is guarded by DRAGONS. REAL ACTUAL DRAGONS. Dragons are real. I asked Hagrid if it was possible to ride a dragon. His only response was to laugh and tell me that I would have gotten along real well with someone named Charlie Weasley.

Our journey finally led us into London, where we went to a dingy pub named the Leaky Cauldron, near London Bridge. But get this: there was some sort of spell making it so no Muggles could see it! I couldn't even snap a picture of the exterior without the app breaking down. I did get a picture of the interior, for what it's worth. But, you know, it's not especially magical. Or clean. Now that I think of it, should 11 year olds really be going in a pub?

[Image description: The Leaky Cauldron, a dark, dank, dingy establishment. It would not surprise me in the least if the title turned out to be literal somewhere. I do not want to use this place's toilets.]

But enough complaining, because something very strange and maybe just a little disturbing started happening. People started crowding around me and wanting to get a piece of me like I was the king or something. It turns out I am world famous in the magical world for surviving the Killing Curse and apparently killing Voldemort. (Which, I might add, I still find to be extremely suspect. I was a baby.) I'm of two minds about this fame. On the one hand, it's going to a huge asset if I want to start my shop in the magical world. On the other hand, it's…really quite disturbing to be treated as a celebrity for an event that involved my parents' deaths.

I met this guy named Professor Quirrell too, who's supposed to be my Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. And, look, I try not to be judgmental, but this guy doesn't look like he can defend himself against a gentle breeze. He seems to be on the verge of a nervous breakdown. He's also got a gigantic stutter, but that's sort of neither here nor there, right? He seems like he needs loads and loads of therapy. But then again, so do I, so who am I to judge? On the bright side, if he's under so much stress, surely he wouldn't give himself more by assigning tons of homework. I hope.

But all of this paled in comparison to the true attraction of the day: Diagon Alley itself. Hagrid opened up a secret entrance in the wall and we were in a huge street, somehow in the middle of London. It did not seem to make sense and I wonder if it was located in a pocket dimension of some sort. But then again, I think stuff not making sense is going to be a running theme of my magical education.

What's more relevant is that Diagon Alley is awesome! Here, let me show you a photograph.

[Image description: A cobbled street filled with people in stereotypical wizard and witch outfits, with buildings that leaned haphazardly, selling things such as cauldrons, owls, and eels' eyes.]

All these years, and I never suspected in the slightest there was a secret world right under my nose. It's beautiful. As I walked down the street, I realized instinctively that I belong here. I felt a sense of belonging unlike anything I've ever felt before. Granted, anything is better next to Privet Drive, but still, I feel it in my bones. I'm meant to be here.

I'm glad all of you get to see this too for the first time. I was kind of worried I was breaking some sort of rule, because, well, it makes sense the magical world would be secret. There should be some sort of Statute of Secrecy, right? But Hagrid says I have nothing to worry about and that my blog is doing extremely important work. He says the Muggles have to understand. He was very keen on emphasizing that, which is weird, but whatever. I'm sure Hagrid wouldn't lead me astray!

We quickly arrived at Gringotts. And sure enough, there are goblins here! It's so awesome! I never, ever thought I'd ever get a chance to meet a member of another sentient species, but here they are. More photographs!

[Image descriptions: Image one is Gringotts Bank, a edifice of white marble towering over the buildings in the rest of Diagon Alley. Image two is me taking a selfie with the goblin guarding the door, who looks like he has absolutely no idea what's happening. Then he shoved me to the ground and told me never, ever to do something like that again. But, hey, YOLO, mates.]

After the encounter with the guard, I decided maybe it was a bad idea to tempt their wrath further by taking more pictures, so I just strode right in. At that point, it turned out that Hagrid somehow had the key to my vault. I decided right then and there to use the utmost in subtlety to trick Hagrid into telling me just why he had my key.

"Hagrid, why do you have my key?" I asked craftily.

"Oh, well…" He looked embarrassed. "Professor Dumbledore gave it to me."

Professor Dumbledore, I should say now, is the headmaster of Hogwarts. And the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, which I am given to understand is like the Speaker of the House of Commons. And he's the Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards, which seems to maybe be the same type of job? The point is, he's got three very powerful positions and I don't understand how he manages to keep up with all of them without going insane. Maybe he uses some sort of time machine to be in several places at once? No, even by the standards of the magical world, that's just silly.

From what I've heard about him, he's basically Gandalf. He was the commander of the forces against Voldemort. My parents directly served under his command. He's got more magical power in his pinkie than most people can dream of. And he's apparently obsessed with lemon drops for some reason. Some people say he's going a bit senile these days, but others think he's still sharp as a tack and just pretending to get people underestimating him.

None of this, you might note, explains why he has the key to the vault containing my money.

"Look, Harry, would you rather the headmaster had it or Petunia Dursley?" Hagrid asked when I pointed this out to him. I could not deny this was a very good point. They'd have drained the vault instantly. Yet it was still not an answer to my question. Hagrid sighed. "Your parents appointed Dumbledore as executor of their estate."

I froze. Dumbledore was in charge of following my parents' wishes. Like which guardian I would be placed with. Still, this didn't mean at all he knew about how bad the Dursleys were. It was perfectly logical to place me with my mother's sister. I was probably safer hiding in the Muggle world, objectively. But still…this didn't sit right with me. "Can I have it now?"

Hagrid tilted his head. "Sure, if you want. But you won't be able to use it till you've turned 17 and you're an adult, just so you know, without getting Dumbledore's approval. Or your guardians, I suppose, but I think we both know how that'll go."

Oh, yeah. I'd be doomed if Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon got their hands on that key. They'd probably decide to take all the money and move to the Caribbean, leaving me in the lurch. "You know what, Hagrid, you keep the key. I trust you."

Hagrid took me down to the vaults in a mining cart along with a goblin named Griphook. I think I might have seen the flame of a dragon, but maybe it was from some other source. We were going too fast for me to be sure. I tried my best to get a selfie with Griphook, but he screamed in terror the moment he saw my mobile and even after I explained what it was, he refused on the grounds of security concerns. I also had to delete my pictures from inside the bank, which, you know, does make sense now that I think about it.

I am not going to tell you how much money is in my vault or even hint at it, but I'll just say that while my parents were Potters, they were not paupers. See what I did there? Sometimes, I amaze even myself.

We stopped by to pick up a very mysterious package in another one of the vaults on my way out. Hagrid only described it as "the stuff dreams are made of." I had no idea mages watched film noir movies, but it just cemented in my mind the fact that Hagrid is the coolest guy ever. I'm not going to talk about it any more, and honestly, I should not have mentioned it at all.

Hagrid left me in the uniform shop while he went to get a drink, apparently to settle his stomach after the admittedly very wild cart ride. Which, you know, seems wildly irresponsible to me. But then again, my stomach's doing loop-de-loops too. Anyway, Hagrid's the adult here and he wasn't gone for too long and it all worked out.

I wish I could say I enjoyed the trip to the uniform shop as much as I enjoyed the bank, but I didn't, and it was all because of this utter ponce. He was blond and had a very pointy chin and acted like he was utter royalty. He had total Hitler Youth vibes even before he opened his mouth and started talking about "our kind" and insulted Hagrid. And, look, I cannot let that stand.

"What's your name?" I asked the boy.

He puffed up his chest and introduced himself as Draco Malfoy. "My family have been known as mages since the Roman conquest. We're powerful. My father is an advisor to the minister and Malfoys have been ministers three times in the last few years."

"And have you ever been out in the Muggle world, Draco Malfoy?" I asked softly.

Draco sneered at me. "Of course not. I don't debase myself by mingling with filth and savages. Disgusting animals, scrambling in the muck."

I gave a crazed smile. "What if I could show you otherwise?"

He scoffed. "Oh, please, like that's likely. Why should I go anywhere with a total stranger, anyway?"

"Quite right, Draco," I said smugly. "I haven't introduced myself yet. Harry Potter's the name." I brushed the hair away from my scar. I wasn't one to flout my fame, but if it was in the name of putting this bigot in his place, then I'd gladly do it. Maybe he would learn something.

Draco seemed to be hesitating for a very long time. "I suppose it can't hurt if it'll just take a few minutes…"

I went back to the Leaky Cauldron and asked Hagrid with big pleading eyes to let me show Draco something. Hagrid did not like the idea. Near as I can tell, the Malfoys are politically opposed to Dumbledore and may even have supported Voldemort. Given Draco's…Draconic-ness, that did not surprise me in the least. But ultimately, Hagrid decided to allow the three of us to go together. We stepped out of the pub into the Muggle street.

Draco was freaking out even at the site of the mundane, day to day life of the definitely not filthy animals around us, but that was nothing compared to what awaited him three blocks later: the Shard. The biggest skyscraper in London and actually in all of the UK. 309.6 meters [1016 feet] high. 72 floors. A testament to the power of what Muggles could accomplish all on their own without magic.

"It's not possible," Draco whispered. "No. They couldn't have – how? They must have hired mages…or they worked on it in secret. It's not possible without magic."

"There are more things in heaven and earth, Draco, than are dreamt of in your philosophy," I said with a maniacal grin. "Remember this every time you doubt Muggles, Draco. Remember that it was Muggles who built that."

Draco looked at me with heartbreak and…maybe just a slight hint of longing on his face, though it could have been wistful thinking. "It's a trick," he said, clearly not meaning a single word of it. "You're tricking me somehow."

"But what if I'm not?"

Draco just let out a snarl and walked straight back into the Leaky Cauldron, into his own limited world, without another word. I hoped I'd talk some sense into him. You had to get to these people young. Some people wouldn't have wasted any time with Draco, but I see my motivations as purely pragmatic. The fewer people following the philosophies of the person who wanted me dead – and thus might still want me dead themselves – the better.

We didn't run into Draco again. Hagrid took me to a bookstore to buy my school supplies. Unfortunately, he refused to let me buy a book filled with curses to use on Dudley. Why he bothered when he himself had turned Dudley into a pig, I have no idea. Maybe his actions hadn't been as legal as he had said. We went to buy a bunch more school supplies – I'll spare you the details; they're not for the faint of heart – and then get this. I went to the pet shop and it turns out I really can talk to snakes.

Apparently, there's a lot of prejudice against those who can talk to snakes. They're called Parselmouths and Voldemort was one. I think that's ridiculous and I refuse to keep it to myself. Proud Parselmouth here! I need to make stickers. Note to self: research sticker spells.

The snake I bought is named Ishtaran. Don't ask me what it means; Ishtaran told me it was his name and who am I to say it's not? Ishtaran is just the cutest snake in existence and I refuse to listen to anyone who says he may be evil. I especially refuse to listen to anyone who'll tell me I'm evil for having a snake. Ishtaran and I are going to be BFFs for life! Which, technically, is redundant, but still, you know what I mean. Here, have a picture of the snek!

[Image description: A smooth snake (that's a kind of snake, not a description, about 30 centimeters [12 inches] long and is both majestic and awesome.]

Ishtaran says he loves you all! Actually, he said he'd be totally fine if you paid tribute to him, but for him, that's basically the equivalent. He's very haughty at times.

And last on the agenda…my wand. Here is where things got very strange and creepy. First of all, there's the wandmaker Olivander, who is filled with mysterious wisdom and high dignity.

[Image description: Olivander dabbing for the camera.]

And then there's my wand itself, which is made of holly and phoenix feather, eleven inches long. And get this: It turns out that the phoenix in question (also, phoenixes are real, which is awesome!) contributed only one other feather to a wand in the past. And guess whose it was?

Voldemort.

I'm holding a wand made of the same material that killed my parents. It's freaky. But you know what? I kind of feel better when I hold it. My wand chose me and I choose a path of magic. It's not going to be easy. But I'm going to do it anyway, because this is the right path for me. Also, given that the Dursleys are, well, the Dursleys, I don't really have another choice.

Can't wait to start Hogwarts, people! The going is getting good.

COMMENTS

rainforestfan2: Please stop using generative AI. I know it sounds tempting, but you're basically just stealing stuff from other artists. Surely you can tell this very engrossing story without it.

Wow, thanks for just assuming I'm using AI instead of, I don't know, believing the evidence of your own eyes. Really nice of you, thanks.

instrahnity1: Ishtaran is the best snake who ever lived and I, for one, welcome our new serpentine overlords!

Ishtaran says you're not half-bad for a human!

josh_the_alien: Why do I get the feeling this package of Hagrid's is going to be important for later in the plot?

chemtrailsarereal: You should have asked the goblins for an inheritance test! You could be the the heir to NUMEROUS NOBLE HOUSES! Or the DESCENDANT OF MERLIN!

Dude, just stop.

Woodpecker,

I have picked up the Philosopher's Stone and I require further instructions.

Echidna

Echidna,

You are to take the Philosopher's Stone and deliver it to Dumbledore. I should note I personally object to this plan. The Philosopher's Stone is an object of incredible power. If we can duplicate it, we can give all Britons immortality and our country economic supremacy. But my superior says if it disappears now, you'll be the prime suspect and your cover blown. I feel that'd be worth it, but what do I know? For now, just keep on staying in your role. Good work with Potter. We have him right where we want him.

Woodpecker