《A Wizard Reborn - A Harry Potter Fanfic》 Chapter 1: The Beginning Pain. My world was one of pain. Red liquid painted my back as I lied on the asphalt. I tasted it in my mouth. Blood. My blood. Darkness was overtaking me. Damn it all. My breathing has stopped. I can¡¯t feel the ground anymore and I¡¯ve lost vision in both eyes. I can barely even hear the sirens, it was as if they were a world away. My senses were fading, I was fading. Slowly, ever so slowly, my heart stopped and my soul was whisked away, leaving nothing but an empty corpse behind.. ¡®So this is death, huh?¡¯ If you haven¡¯t figured it out yet, my name was Orion Wright, and I died. ---------------- At least I think I did. The exact memories of my death are a little shaky, but from what I can grasp, there was a truck involved. I was hit, thrown tens of feet in the air before landing. The pain was indescribable. Afterwards, there was the feeling of being pulled away from my body, a feeling of wrongness that couldn¡¯t be explained. Then, there was the Void. At least, that¡¯s what I called it for lack of a better name.Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon. No matter where you are on the mortal plane, there¡¯s something. Whether it be physical or not, it doesn¡¯t matter. Even in the vacuum of space, there¡¯s concepts. The concept of space, of time, of simple existence. In the Void there was none of that. It was worse than mere sensory deprivation. It took concepts themselves and had them undone. It didn¡¯t take away your sense of time, as much as it took away time itself. It didn¡¯t take your touch, but took away the concept of feeling. I honestly couldn¡¯t say how long I was in that horrible place, as there was no time to be kept. The only thing that kept my sanity intact was the hope of somehow escaping that horrible prison. Whether it be an eternity or a second, eventually I was saved. A light at the end of the tunnel you might say. The light was shining in the distance, not too far away from my current position. How it was possible for distance to exist without Space itself existing, I don¡¯t know. What I do know is that I had to leave. Even Hell with it¡¯s eternal torture would be better than this place. At least I would exist. I pushed my will, my entire being to the light, harder than I had ever pushed before. It got bigger and bigger, and I pushed and pushed. I ignored everything else, the only thing there was in my mind was light. Light, light, light. I pushed and shoved, and in one last, monumental effort, I made it to the light with a small *pop*. Chapter 2: A Training Montage My eyes slowly creaked open, cringing at the sudden influx of light. I was confused for only a moment before the memories came back to me. ¡®Holy shit, did I actually die? Where the hell am I?¡¯ Looking around my room, I discovered it wasn¡¯t exactly what you¡¯d call luxury. The bedframe I was sitting on was squeaky and looked like it was about to fall apart. The gray-ish wallpaper was peeling in some areas and the windows were cracked. It was a small room, barely big enough to house even a child. Besides the bed, there was only a worn down desk and dresser which looked like they¡¯d fall apart at any moment. Overall, it wasn¡¯t a very good start. There was a mirror in the corner, and what I saw shocked me to no end. What looked back at me from the mirror was¡­ me. Not a new me but the old me. From before I died. Of course not the adult me but a younger version from when I was a kid. It was all the same, the messy black hair, blue eyes, the whole package. The only difference was that I seemed to be slightly more handsome. The idea that I had time-traveled crossed my mind, but I knew I had never been in this room before. I have always had an amazing memory, near perfect actually, and I definitely don¡¯t remember this place. I fell back onto my bed in shock. To stop myself from hyperventilating I fell into a deep meditation. Before I had died (God I actually died I can¡¯t believe it), meditation always helped to calm me down and bring me back to a state of peace. I must¡¯ve sat there for hours, just meditating. The longer I meditated, the more different I felt. At first, it was nothing. Just a tiny feeling in my solar plexus. A small heat that could barely be felt. Yet it was there. The longer I spent focusing on that small irregularity, the more it could be felt. The small heat turned into a small sun in my mind''s eye, a blue star at the center of my being. I immediately knew that was me. It was like how you could feel where your hand was even with your eyes closed. You could always feel it, perceive it. It was me and I was it. It was the most beautiful thing I had ever felt. I tried to poke or prod it with my will and the core barely reacted. Yet it still moved. I slowly focused all my effort on the core, willing a small tendril of power out of it like a solar flare. As I moved it around my body, a sudden shout disrupted my focus, ruining my efforts. ¡°Orion Wright, get out here right this instant! It¡¯s breakfast!¡± I was so startled by the sudden noise that I fell off the bed, hitting my face flat on the ground. Now that my focus had been broken I lost the feeling of power I had. I would almost believe it to be a dream if not for the slight awareness I still had of it. I instinctively knew that I could access it again at any time with only a sliver of will, now that I knew where to look. ¡°Coming!¡± I called out. Even though I have no idea where or when I am, if someone knows my name they must know me, or at least how my body acted before I inhabited it. I have to try to not arouse any suspicion. The only thing I can really do right now is play along. Breakfast was a weird experience for me. I was still getting used to the fact that I¡¯d just reincarnated, and my body felt weird as well. It was fine if I didn¡¯t think about it much, muscle memory and all that, but when I started thinking about what I was doing it got weird. I pretty much just shrunk by a whole meter, not to mention the other thing that shrunk. Not. Fun. After breakfast, I cleaned the dishes like the matron asked and headed back upstairs. I felt surprisingly calm throughout the entire meal. Even though I had just died and been reborn, there wasn¡¯t much to live for back in my old life. I won¡¯t go into details but between a cheating wife and getting laid off at my job, getting hit by that truck wasn¡¯t the worst thing that could have happened. I decided to live this life to the fullest. Whether that small blue star from earlier was superpowers, magic, the force or nothing, I would live my life the way I wanted. I wouldn¡¯t throw this chance away. Back in my room, I closed my eyes and got into my meditative pose again. This time it took less than a minute as opposed to the hours it took me before. This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere. Then, I felt it. That spark. It gave off a warmth that was indescribable. Just focusing on it was enough to invigorate me and convince me this was all real. I tried grasping it, but it was like trying to grab water with open hands. Everytime I pulled on it with my mind, I got a little reaction before it went back to inactivity. Resigning myself to hours, if not days of failure, I tried again. Thus began my daily routine. Every morning I would wake up, practice controlling what I dubbed as my magical core, eat breakfast, do chores, practice some more, eat lunch, practice more, eat dinner, do chores, and finally, practice more until I fell asleep. My days were consumed by magic. I hadn¡¯t even started attempting to project my will onto the world, yet I was already in love. The core was me and I was the core. I didn¡¯t own it, I was it. And in turn, it was me. I practiced like this for weeks on end until I had an adequate grasp on my core. It took less control and more convincing. I had to convince not only the magic, but myself that it would work without a doubt. After a little over a month, I was adept at manipulating the energy inside of me to such a degree that I felt comfortable attempting to attempt real magic. Ever so slowly, I coaxed my magic out from my core, down my arm and into my open palm where a feather rested. I slowly pushed the energy out of my hand and onto the feather, willing it to float. I pushed all I had into that single spell, emptying my reserves. I tried harder on this than anything since escaping the Void. I wanted this, no, I needed this to work. I needed proof my labor was not for nothing. Slowly, almost so slow I couldn¡¯t see it, the feather floated away from my hand. Up it went, five centimeters, ten centimeters, fifty centimeters into the air. Feeling my reserves were about to bottom out, I cut off the spell. I must¡¯ve stood there for at least ten minutes, just reveling in the fact of what I had just done. I, Orion, age nine, had just performed Magic. ------------------- From that point on I trained harder than ever. I trained at least twelve hours a day, every day. I still spent at least four hours a day meditating, but the rest was done practicing. Every time I practiced a spell it got easier. What took me thirty minutes before now took me five. I had to meditate after every couple spells as I just didn¡¯t have the reserves to continue, but it only took about half an hour to fully refill. Apparently by focusing your whole being into regenerating magic, you could recover at least five times quicker. That helped me rekindle the star that was my core and practice more magic. After a few months, I was able to levitate multiple objects at once. I started using marbles as they were heavier and denser than a feather so they took more effort. I could also light small things on fire and freeze water and other simple stuff like that. No matter how hard I trained though, I never burned out. Magic was just too much fun. Every time I tried a spell, successful or not, my entire being shook from happiness. I didn¡¯t think I would ever get over this. After around six months, I was able to spin up to ten marbles around my right hand at once, while simultaneously conjuring fire in my left. On July thirteenth my tenth birthday passed with little fanfare. The rest of the kids sang to me and we had cake. None of them cared much for the party itself as I was such a recluse. By now my core had more than doubled in size and intensity. My passive regeneration was enough to indefinitely levitate a few objects or keep a flame lit, but not more than that. At around nine months I started getting bored with small pebbles and marbles and moved onto medium sized objects such as books or rocks. I was able to lift a few books at a time, but any more than that quickly tired me out. Even still, I pushed myself every day, intoxicated with the feeling actual magic gave me. Every day I improved, getting stronger and better. By now I had some suspicions on where I was reincarnated into. It was 1990, I was in the outskirts of England, and I had magic powers. It seemed pretty clear. Still, I wouldn¡¯t know for sure until my eleventh birthday, so until then I would just keep practicing magic. It has now been a year since I was reincarnated into this world. By now I¡¯ve pushed the kids and caretakers away. I only came down for meals, and they left me alone in turn. All they knew was that I would spend hours alone in my room and sometimes leave into the forest for hours on end. I was getting quite lonely, but it¡¯s too late to fix anything. I¡¯d have to wait until I leave the orphanage to make any friends. By now I was pretty sure I had reincarnated into the world of Harry Potter. Every now and then I saw a strange owl fly by or a man in odd robes walking the street. Without knowledge of the books these would mean nothing, but when put together it painted a broader picture. I tried to experiment with other spells, such as hexes and jinxes, transfiguration, and enchantments, but it looked like I¡¯d need a wand for that. I did manage some minor transfigurations, but they were all fueled with heavy emotions such as my frustration for not being able to cast any higher level spells. I didn¡¯t believe it was a lack of wand, but rather a lack of knowledge. I was going about it wrong somehow, and Hogwarts was the only solution. It seemed that until then I could only practice and refine my technique, waiting for that day to come. Unless I feel how the magic in real spells works, I would have to recklessly experiment and possibly blow something up. I still remembered how Luna¡¯s mother died from experimenting, and I didn¡¯t want to follow suit. By my first year and a half in this world my magic had grown by leaps and bounds. I continued to progress well but seemed to hit a wall with my knowledge. Without a wand or formal training there was only so much I could do. I was excited to get my wand and my letter to Hogwarts, it seemed the more the days went by the more I longed to pursue my magical education. Even though I had hit a minor wall with knowledge in relation to spells, my power and control never stopped growing. I was now able to conjure ice, water, earth and fire. I could generate small bolts of lightning, not large enough to do any damage but powerful nonetheless. I was able to levitate almost everything in my room with some struggle and my core was at least five times more powerful than when I first transmigrated here. Whether that was from me growing up, my constant training, or a mix of both was unknown. On the day of my eleventh birthday, I had the first visitor of my new life. Professor McGonagall had arrived. Chapter 3: Meeting McGonagall HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY Headmaster: ALBUS DUMBLEDORE (Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards) Dear Mr. Orion Wright, We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment. Term begins 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July. Yours sincerely, Minerva McGonagall Minerva McGonagall Deputy Headmistress --------------- I read the letter, front to back, three times before my brain caught up to my eyes. Before me stood an old woman in green robes, her face marred with frown lines and a stern look. She did not seem like the type of lady to cross. Long before this encounter, once I started to show more interest in my world and not just magic, I had to ask myself a question. How much talent should I show? I knew for a fact I didn¡¯t want to show everything. I¡¯d be labeled a monster for sure. A kid my age doing what I can with a wand would be impressive, let alone without one. However, that begs the question, how much should I show? I didn¡¯t want to go the unassuming and doubtful child route, my acting skills were far too bad for that. Living in what was basically solitary confinement for the past year and a half hasn¡¯t helped all that much with my social skills. In the end, after a long deliberation with myself, I decided it didn¡¯t really matter. I truly didn¡¯t believe I was anything special. So long as someone puts in the effort I had they should be able to achieve the same things. Little did I know how far off I was in that assumption. Putting on an excited face that wasn¡¯t entirely faked, I lifted my head towards my soon to be new professor. ¡°Oh my god, I¡¯m a wizard? I¡¯ve been doing magic all this time? I thought it was The Force or something!¡± I shouted excitedly. McGonagill didn¡¯t even look fazed from my sudden increase in volume. Every kid probably does the same thing. Although, she did have a spark of curiosity that I could barely see. ¡°Can you elaborate on your second sentence please, Mr. Wright? Accidental magic doesn¡¯t usually happen ¡®all the time¡¯.¡± ¡°Accidental? What do you mean by ¡®accidental¡¯? I can do it whenever I want.¡± I said in a pouty voice, pretending to be offended. ¡°You''re telling me you can control your gifts? Forgive me, but I find that hard to believe.¡± She said in a condescending voice, almost like she was talking to a chil- oh. She is. Nevermind. ¡°Yeah, of course I can control it. I can make things float whenever I want and I can even make fire! I can make things spark or change shape or freeze too!¡± I said, lowering my volume slightly so as to not alert the rest of the orphanage to our conversation. ¡°Would you mind doing a demonstration? It¡¯s not that I don¡¯t believe you, but this is a highly improbable talent you¡¯re claiming.¡± ¡°Sure thing! One second, though, I have to get my marbles and rocks that I use to train from my room.¡± Right when I said ¡®feather¡¯, McGonagall pulled out her want and conjured a small rock and a marble. She handed them over to me with an eyebrow raised in challenge. When she saw I didn¡¯t even blink at that display of magic, some of her disbelief melted away. I plucked them out of the air where they were levitating and held them in my palm. Using a small amount of willpower was enough to make the marble and rock rotate around each other, slowly approaching each other like dual stars locked in each other''s orbits. As they finally touched, I willed them to fuse before lighting them on fire and melting them down to slag. Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit. ¡°That¡¯s a neat trick I made a little bit ago with the fusing. Are you saying there are other people that can do things like me?¡± ¡°Oh dear,¡± McGonagall gasped lightly in shock. The shock didn¡¯t seem to last long however, as her stern facade fell back into place, nothing more than a slightly raised brow to betray her feelings. ¡°Well, I guess we have a hidden gem. I do hope you¡¯ll be sorted into my house. And no, most people can¡¯t do what you did without a wand. Now, come along. As stated in the letter, we have to get your school supplies.¡± She finished by turning around and walking out of the room. Hurrying to catch up with her, I asked the question, ¡°But professor, I haven¡¯t got any money. How will I buy supplies?¡± Of course, I knew logically there had to be some sort of muggle-born trustfund, but getting confirmation was always better than speculation. ¡°Don¡¯t worry too much about that, Mr. Wright. The Ministry of Magic pays for all muggle-born students. You are expected to pay it back by the five year anniversary of your graduation, but until then it¡¯s interest free. After that, it acts the same as a loan. As for what the Ministry of Magic is, think of it as the magical form of your muggle government.¡± She recited more than said, presumably because of the hundreds of muggle-borns she had been tasked to get over the years having the same questions. ¡°Now, if you have any more questions, please save them until we get to Diagon Alley. I¡¯m sure you will have many more questions.¡± Before I could pretend to ask what Diagon Alley was, she held out a small rope, only half a meter long. ¡°Please hold onto this and hold tight. This might be a little unpleasant.¡± Realizing what the rope must be, I held it as tight as my little hands would allow. With a check of her watch and a whispered ¡°Right on time,¡± we were off. I felt something attach me to the rope at the navel, swinging me around at incredible speeds. Shutting my eyes closed, I did everything I could to keep the puke down. I eventually lost the battle with my own stomach as McGonagall touched down lightly, leaving me to hit my ass on the pavement. ¡°Oh, I apologize Mr. Wright, I¡¯ll clean that right up for you.¡± She whipped out her wand, casting a cleaning charm and vanishing the old breakfast that stained my clothes. ¡°I¡¯m sorry for not warning you sooner, but we were a little off schedule. That was something called a portkey, a magical item that allows instantaneous travel to a certain, pre-designated point.¡± ¡°It''s fine, professor, but I would like to be warned beforehand next time.¡± Outside I was grumbling and nonplussed, but inside I was freaking out. ¡®Holy shit I just fucking teleported! Oh my god that¡¯s amazing! Across the continent in an instant! I have to learn how to make one.¡¯ ¡°Of course, now let¡¯s be off. We still have to get your supplies after all.¡± After that, McGonagall took a hold of my shoulder and led me towards our first destination, Flourish and Blotts Bookseller. On the way, I passed hundreds of witches and wizards, all going about their daily lives. The stores were stocked with an assortment of enchanted items, ranging from cauldrons, to quills that never ran out, all the way to what looked like a brick with wings. It was truly a magical place, in atmosphere and actual magic. Flourish and Blotts was located around the middle of the Alley, squished between a shop that looked to have writing supplies, and a shop that sold second-hand cloaks, robes and other clothes. The inside was even more magnificent than the outside, filled floor to roof with books of all kinds. Biographies, spell books, story books, and even books about obscure magics such as occlumency and legilimency. I made a note to buy some of those once I had the money. McGonagall seemed to know where she was going, so I decided to just follow her. She took me straight to the counter where a middle-aged man was nearly invisible behind all of the books. ¡°One basic Hogwarts order, first year.¡± She said in a clipped tone. The man looked up from his book, pointed to his left and buried himself right back into it. Personally I thought it was a bit rude, but I wouldn¡¯t know the first thing about the culture here outside of the books or movies so I held my mouth. Judging by McGonagall¡¯s expression, she thought it was rude as well. Ignoring the rude display, we walked towards the direction we were pointed. A couple meters later we encountered a large table filled to the brim with what looked to be miniature books, eight to a bundle. McGonagall picked one up with little fanfare and headed back to the man at the desk. ¡°Just one today, put it on the Hogwarts muggle-born fund.¡± When the man heard the words ¡°muggle-born¡¯ he scrunched up his face by a nearly unnoticeable amount. If it weren¡¯t for the fact I was so close and looking directly at him I would have never even noticed. ¡®It seems the discrimination against muggle-borns exists even all the way out here. At least they¡¯re not open about it.¡¯ I thought with a hint of anger. How they could think of simple children as dirty just because of their parents was beyond me. It astounded me that they were that blinded by tradition and old stories. Voldemort must have played quite a large role in amplifying that anger against muggles and muggle-borns on both sides of the war. Voldemort¡¯s side for obvious reasons, and Dumbledore/The Ministries side because, somewhere deep down, the Light side might have placed the blame of their suffering onto the muggle-borns. This was all just speculation of course. I couldn¡¯t be entirely sure if I was right, but I wouldn¡¯t discount the idea. The war, from what I could gather from my memories of the books and movies, was a horrible era of fear and terror. When humans are placed in such positions, they¡¯re prone to lash out or be quick to blame. The clerk took the money anyway, and shoved his face right back into a book. McGonagall gave a quick tsk at the man and moved on, nearly stomping out of the store. Based on her attitude, it seemed she recognized the bias as well. The next couple hours were spent walking in and out of stores, buying everything I needed for the upcoming school year. I walked in a daze, too enraptured by all of the sights around me. Diagon Alley was easily the most amazing place I have ever been, past life included. Even though I only got to see Gringotts from afar, I could tell it was a perfect blend of gorgeous and menacing, taking up a huge amount of space. Finally, after hours of walking around, buying up everything needed on the supply list and wishing for more, we reached an old, worn building with a sign that read: ¡®Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands Since 382 B.C.¡¯ It was finally time for me to get the single most important tool of any wizard. It was time for me to get my wand. Chapter 4: Wandworks Walking into the store, I was greeted by quite a peculiar sight. Boxes stacked floor to roof, much like the books in Flourish and Blotts but in a messier fashion. Silence hung in the room like a physical thing, weighing down on me and instantly setting an atmosphere of mystery and intrigue. It was then I noticed McGonagall was nowhere to be seen, most likely waiting outside. In my pocket I found seven galleons, the exact price of a wand. Walking towards the counter, I looked around some more. Knowing each and every one of these boxes held an object of such power astounded me. Knowing only one person made them astounded me even more. There must have been thousands, if not tens of thousands of wands in here. I was barely able to contain myself, knowing that in just a few minutes I would have access to magic previously out of my grasp. I wanted to know how a wand works and interacts with its wizard partner so bad I almost bolted off to grab a box. Only my respect for Ollivander and his craft held me back. Suddenly a voice sounded out from my left, in a previously hidden alcove. ¡°Ah, a customer, how delightful. One wand I suppose? Yes I guess it is that time of year again isn¡¯t it.¡± Jumping, I spun around quicker than you could say ¡®wand¡¯. I was looking all over the shop, all the while listening intently for Ollivander, yet I still didn¡¯t notice him until he showed himself. Whether it was magic or pure skill, I couldn¡¯t tell, but either way it was quite potent. ¡°Ollivander, I presume? Do you enjoy nearly giving your customers heart attacks?¡± I asked rhetorically. To both questions he nodded in the affirmative. What a strange old man. He seemed slightly off his rocker. ¡°I¡¯ll admit, it gets quite boring here. Not many wizards come in for wands besides their first time. A good sign I suppose, but not very good for making friends or business.¡± Scratch that, he¡¯s so far off his rocker he couldn¡¯t get back on even if he tried. ¡°Ahem.. yes, I am here for my wand.¡± I responded, awkwardly scratching my head. This man was quite hard to deal with. The old wand maker nodded his head enthusiastically, disappearing amongst his creations once more. As he was gone, a tape measure that I assumed had been enchanted flew up, getting all sorts of strange measurements such as the length of my nose and distance from middle finger to belly button. Why he needed such measurements, or if they were even necessary or not I would probably never know. Ollivander returned after some time with a large pile of boxes in his arms. Setting them on the counter lightly, he picked up a single box. Inside the box was a magnificent piece of craftsmanship, nearly a foot long and slightly curved. It was clear that Ollivander must¡¯ve put an incredible amount of effort into this wand. And most likely not even just his one. Every wand in the entire store was most likely made with just as much if not more effort. Say what you want about him, but he was a genius and an artist when it came to wandcraft. ¡°Eleven inches, willow and unicorn horn, swishy and good at charms.¡± He said, handing me the wand. Instantly I felt a warmth penetrate my hand and arm, reaching beyond my physical body all the way to my core. It was almost perfect for me. Almost. ¡°No, no, not that one.¡± He said, snatching it back. He placed it back in the box, setting it in a separate pile. ¡°Here, try this one. Ten inches, English oak with a dragon heartstring core. Quite the potent wand I must say.¡± He said as he handed me another box. Again, I felt a strong connection with this one, but it was just slightly off. Sure, I could do spellwork with it, many times better than I did with just my hands, but it didn¡¯t feel like mine. It felt more like a tool in my hands than a part of me. It just wasn¡¯t right. ¡°Hmm, that¡¯s not right either. You seem to be closer attuned with a dragon heartstring core¡­ Try this one. Twelve inches, blackthorn and dragon heartstring, firm and steady. An excellent wand for both a duelist and warrior.¡± Grabbing the wand, an incredible feeling shot through my arm, straight into my core. It was so amazing I barely even registered the flickering candlelight or cracks of lightning dancing around my fingertips. Perhaps it was because I was from another world without magic, or maybe because of my relentless practicing, but the feeling was so clear. It was so close. But because I was so adept at sensing my own magic, I could tell something was wrong. It was so close to perfect, but it wasn¡¯t my wand. Regretfully, I put it down, surprising Ollivander. ¡°I¡¯m sorry sir, that one was so close, but just didn¡¯t feel perfect.¡± I said sadly. That was the last wand of the pile, meaning I didn¡¯t connect with any of them. I would have to do with the blackthorn wand. I guess nearly perfect was good enough.If you spot this tale on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. Fishing the coins out of my pocket, I picked the blackthorn wand back up again, only to be interrupted by Ollivander. ¡°Now wait a second, in all my years of making wands, I have never left a customer unsatisfied. The search goes on!¡± He declared, storming into the back of the store with a grin on his face at the thought of a challenge. I was left there alone with my thoughts for the time being. ¡®Will he really find a better wand? I¡¯ve never even felt something come close to that wand, it was near perfect. I guess I can only hope for the best.¡¯ A couple minutes later, the old man came back with a box so old it seemed to be made of dust. Despite the deplorable state of the box, the wand inside was still in pristine condition. My respect for wandmakers again jumped a-hundred fold, seeing such a piece of art. It was so beautiful I barely even heard the next words that left his mouth. ¡°Twelve and a half inches, cherry wood and dragon heartstring. A wand that had lethal power, with limitless potential. A unique wand made by my great-grandfather, one of the most talented wandmakers to ever walk the earth. A cherry wood and dragon heartstring wand was thought to be impossible before he created this masterpiece due to the strong personalities and power of the core and wood clashing. Of course, there are plenty floating around today, but none match this level of perfection. I dare say it is one of the finest works of art I¡¯ve ever seen, surpassing even my own creations which, in my humble opinion, are some of the best of the era. A user that owns such a wand has to have exemplary self control due to the powerful magics that are bound to be created. It is sublime at charms, curses, and enchantments but takes a powerful wizard to control it. Give it a go.¡± Despite not even touching it, I already knew this one was mine. It was me and I was it, much like my core. It seems Ollivander knew as well, due to the lengthy speech. Tentatively, I reached my hand out to the wand, grasping its handle. Power. There was a deep thrumming within my very essence, filling my body with power untold. Instinctively, deep in my bones, I could feel this wand was not like the others. Those were mere tools, instruments for wizards to string together magic. This wand was an extension of myself. Magic felt so¡­ easy. Everytime I cast a wandless spell, I knew my magic was leaking. There was a certain inefficiency to wandless magic that I haven¡¯t been able to overcome yet. This wand, though, had no leaks whatsoever. It even seemed to amplify my own magical power by a fair margin too. The feeling was indescribable. Lights flickered, a glow enveloped me and lightning cracked. There was a hum that permitted the room, and everything got slightly warmer. Power suffused the room and a whirlwind enveloped me and my new wand, my new partner. Eventually, I got down from my high and looked at Ollivander with wonder on my face. Amusement in his eyes, he said, ¡°My, my, I don¡¯t think I have ever seen such a reaction in all my years in the craft. Such a perfect match is only known through rumors of old. You shall do great things, young Orion, this I¡¯m sure of.¡± Apprehensively, I asked Ollivander about the wand I was just handed. ¡°Sir, you spoke of this wand as if it were important to you. Are you sure I can take it..?¡± I asked more out of politeness than anything. He would have to pry this wand out of my cold, dead hands before I gave it to him willingly. ¡°Of course you can¡¯t take it.¡± My stomach dropped, fear creeping up my spine. I was ready to just bolt with the wand before: ¡°You owe me seven galleons, the standard price for a wand.¡± He said cheerfully with mirth dancing in his pale eyes. The fear instantly dissipated into nothing, leaving only annoyance at the old man. ¡°I take back everything good I thought about you, Mr. Ollivander. You are completely crazy.¡± The old man, crazy as he was, only laughed in response. Dropping the coins into his outstretched hand, I turned heel and walked out of the shop. Still entranced with my new wand I completely ignored Mr. Ollivander, which for some reason made him even happier. Crazy old man. McGonagall was waiting for me outside as I thought, deep in a conversation with a stranger with a green hat similar to her own. I was fine with this, of course, as it allowed me to probe my wand more. I sent out strands of magical power into the wand, marveling at the ease at which it drew out my power. It was truly incredible. How wizards could hold such an amazing piece of magic and decide not to go on some sort of quest for knowledge astounded me. How could you wield the power to control the forces of the universe at your fingertips, yet squander away the potential by working somewhere behind the desk in the Ministry of owning a store? Even with this world being more logical and realistic than the original books, one fact remained the same. Wizards were idiots. ----------- The way back to the orphanage was a blur to me. I vaguely remember McGonagall looking at me with amusement before the world spun once more, but only vaguely. Shutting the door to my room closed, which I only now realized I was in, I set my mind in motion. How can I get around the trace? I assumed it was either some sort of widespread ward covering the whole of England, which was extremely unlikely due to the sheer power required for such a feat, or some sort of charm. If it was a charm, it had to be placed on the individual. It could be placed on the wand itself that the trace was placed on, theoretically, but then why would it pick up Dobby¡¯s magic? No, it was much more likely it originated on the individual and spread out over a small diameter to pick out spells like the Levitation Charm which didn¡¯t have a starting point or end point, but were simply placed instantaneously from afar. If that were the case, there had to be something that placed the charm. It couldn¡¯t have been McGonagall, because the trace affected everybody. People like Malfoy and Ron Weasley didn¡¯t go to Diagon Alley with a teacher, but their parents. There¡¯s no way the ministry has the parents apply all of the charms, that would be too irresponsible, even for the Ministry. So far, I know that it had to be placed on every single magical child in Britain that went to Hogwarts. That means there has to be an event where every single child is in one place, and be easily charmed. Now, if only there were some sort of an ancient artifact that interacts with every single eleven year old wizard-in-training after the kid gets to Hogwarts. That¡¯s right. I believed that the Sorting Hat not only sorts the children into houses, but also placed the Trace on each and every one of them. That¡¯s not even mentioning that in the books, Hermione said she practiced multiple spells before even boarding the Hogwarts Express, and never mentioned any trouble coming from it. This means the trace doesn¡¯t get applied before the Hogwarts Express, but is applied before the end of the year. The sorting hat fits the criteria perfectly. The Hogwarts Express could also be where it was placed, but it was a recent creation from only a few decades ago, and it was so large it would take an astounding amount of magic to enchant the entire thing with the trace. Slowly, a maniacal grin spread across my face. If the trace is only applied during the Sorting Ceremony, then I am currently Trace free. You know what that means¡­ TRAINING MONTAGE TIME! Chapter 5: Hogwarts Castle Wands were truly incredible pieces of magic. Whoever made the first wand deserves a fucking metal. How I was ever content with wandless magic is a mystery to me now. I still practiced wandless magic daily, but it just couldn¡¯t compare. By the end of August I had already practiced every spell in all of my new books. I tried to get some of my spells down silently or without proper wand movements, but it was ridiculously hard. I shudder to even think of how much practice people had to go through to get to the point of silent casting all of their spells. Sure, I was only really training for two months, and I wasn¡¯t focussing on any spells in particular either, but come on. On the bright side, I¡¯d used the Levitation, Summoning and Banishing charms so much that I could do those silently without any wand movements. I decided to forego attempting to summon a fireball or lightning bolt with my wand yet, as it was still a little hard to control the power output. The wand didn¡¯t just make my spells flawless, not letting any magic power escape the spell, but also amplified the power by a fair margin with its own innate abilities. This was also the reason there was now a small, book sized hole in my ceiling. It was the first object I had decided to test my wand on, using the Levitation spell with the same power output as if I was casting wandlessly. In all of my excitement however, I forgot how much more powerful wands would make the spells, causing the book to shoot up faster than my eyes could track it, blasting through the ceiling before I could stop the spell. My caretakers weren¡¯t exactly happy about it. Apparently, ¡®accidently jumping too high and hitting my head on the roof¡¯ wasn¡¯t a good excuse, who would have thought. I had now read the entire book ¡®The standard book of spells¡¯ and had most of the spells memorized. I say most because there¡¯s really no reason to memorize a dishwashing charm when I¡¯ll only be able to practice magic at Hogwarts where I don¡¯t need to do the dishes. This wasn¡¯t the same as having every spell in my arsenal and at the ready at all times though, as it still took time to concentrate on each spell. Only practice would increase my casting speed, no matter how much I read. I had also tried to memorize all of the other books I had gotten, which was sure to give me an advantage in my studies. Less time studying mundane things such as how to pot a Sizzling Snapdragon meant more time for studying truly interesting magic. Even though I had the book theory down, there was still much I didn¡¯t understand or have the preliminary knowledge to comprehend it properly. These books were meant to be read alongside being taught a certain curriculum, so I still needed my teachers. The lessons were where I would really begin to understand how magic works. Not being able to cast silently bugged me quite a bit. It makes sense that I couldn¡¯t do it quite yet, it was a sixth year level concept after all, but I still wanted to. I was sure that by Christmas break I would be able to cast every useful first year spell silently. The real problem with silent casting didn¡¯t lie in power, which was one reason I couldn¡¯t do it quite yet. Sure, all of my practice and magical growth had helped immensely, I mean, I doubt even Dumbledore or Tom Riddle were able to cast three spells silently before the first year. The real problem came with mental discipline. As loath as I am to admit it, I¡¯m not very disciplined at all. The strict training regime did little to enforce a good work ethic, as it was more fun than work for me. I didn¡¯t do it because of the upcoming war, or because I wanted to better myself or anything. I simply loved magic. The feeling I got when I successfully performed a spell for the first time, or when I figured out some trick to make me faster, was amazing. It let me feel pride in something that was truly mine, something I had worked hard to achieve. The mental discipline required for silent casting was immense, requiring an insane level of focus and willpower. It was no wonder they only introduced it in sixth year, when the students were stronger and more sure of themselves mentally. The years of mental and magical training before that helped loads too, I was sure. My true mental age helped almost as much as my magical talent, but still not enough to allow me to mentally cast yet. I wasn¡¯t exactly a grand wizard or anything in my past life, just an average guy with average determination and willpower, which is to say, not a lot. Over these two months, I had learned more than all my previous years here combined, truly making leaps and bounds. It was now finally time to go to the best magical academy in the world, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. The date was September 1st and I was ready to go. My books were all packed back into my trunk, my wand up my sleeve for easy access. *knock knock knock* This story has been unlawfully obtained without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. ¡°Orion! It¡¯s time to go, or else you¡¯ll be late for your train. How you ever got accepted into a private school, I¡¯ll never know.¡± The matron screeched in her shrill, bird-like voice. Over the years, our relationship had gotten worse and worse the more I blew off chores and socializing to practice magic in secret, getting to the point she downright disrespected me, seeing me as nothing more than a burden. Not that I cared much, as I felt the same way. ¡°Coming, coming, just wait a second, will you? We still have plenty of time!¡± I yelled back through the door. It was only eight in the morning, while the train left at eleven. It took about two hours to get there, leaving me an entire hour to get situated. Even so, we ended up hopping in the car only ten minutes later. The car ride was uneventful and boring, the most interesting thing on the way being a cow stuck on a fence. We rode in silence, mutually agreeing that peace and quiet was better than loud and obnoxious. Finally after a little under two hours we had made it to Kings Cross station, home of the Hogwarts Express. Bidding the old woman adieu, I marched onto the muggle platforms, looking for signs pointing to platform nine and ten. After a couple minutes of searching, I came across a strange sight. A strangely dressed family ran through a solid looking wall, while the nearby muggles seemed to do anything in their power to look away from the event. ¡®Must be some sort of notice-me-not charm or something,¡¯ I mused to myself. I didn¡¯t recognise the family itself, the youngest of the two siblings at least in fourth year. Deciding to follow their example, I ran head forward into the brick wall, only hesitating slightly. Screwing my eyes shut involuntarily, I ran through what felt like a cool breeze before the sound of a loud whistle broke me out of my stupor. Hogwarts Express stood tall, shining red and black and billowing steam out of its chimney. Families stood around, mingling. With over half an hour before the train departed, it wasn¡¯t yet time to say the tearful goodbyes, creating a peaceful and happy atmosphere in the station. Realizing I was standing in front of an active portal people tended to run through, I quickly moved out of the way towards the train. Climbing on board, I saw the interior was nearly as ornate as the exterior, filled with pristine carpets and shining walls. I began my walk, peeping into any compartments I came across, looking for an empty one to practice some more magic away from prying eyes. Eventually I came across one near the back of the train that was completely empty and secluded enough that I wouldn¡¯t be bothered. With a little trouble, I shoved my trunk up above me. I sat down and grabbed my wand from my sleeve, preparing to practice some more. It only took me a couple minutes to go through every useful spell I knew. Right when I was about to go through them all again, the door swung open, revealing a boy about my age with blonde hair and a goofy grin on his face. ¡°Hey there, mind if I join you? I haven¡¯t been able to find any other compartments with first years that aren¡¯t filled to the brim.¡± He said amicably. A little shocked from his sudden intrusion, I simply nodded my head mutely. He sat down across from me and immediately began talking again. ¡°My name¡¯s Anthony, Anthony Goldstein, nice to meetcha. What¡¯s yours?¡± ¡°Uh¡­ Orion, nice to meet you too.¡± I mumbled. I still wasn¡¯t very good at the whole social thing yet. The mixture of my isolation and having such an older mental age made things quite awkward. ¡°So, are you excited? To learn some magic I mean. My dad¡¯s a wizard, so I already knew some stuff about it, but actual magic is so cool!¡± He exclaimed, undeterred by my standoffish behavior. Glad to be on a topic I enjoyed, I spoke with a little more energy. ¡°Yeah, magic¡¯s the best. I¡¯ve been able to get some spells down already, but I want to learn them all. They¡¯re just all so wonderful! I¡¯m a muggleborn so I didn¡¯t even know about magic until a few months ago.¡± ¡°Haha, I guess you¡¯ll be a ravenclaw then. My dad said the same thing about me with how much I want to learn about magic. Since we¡¯ll probably be going to the same house, let¡¯s be friends.¡± He said, outstretching his hand for a shake. I returned the gesture, a little confused by how fast this kid seemed to go. He seems like the type to be in the center of attention, always surrounded by people. I didn¡¯t know if we would actually be friends or not, but I decided it¡¯d be rude not to reciprocate the handshake. ¡°You said you already learned some spells? That¡¯s awesome! You have got to show me! Maybe you can teach me a thing or two as well, I haven¡¯t been allowed to use my wand since I got it.¡± The train ride continued like that for hours, turning from afternoon to evening. I continued to show off a little bit to Anthony, only showing some basic cantrips that anyone could learn such as levitation or the wand lighting charm. Even so, he was enamored. The compartment door was only opened once more, and it was just the trolly lady. We were never joined by Hermione looking for Neville¡¯s toad, so I felt it was safe to assume she met Harry and Ron with no complications. About half way through our trip, Anthony, or Tony as he insisted I called him, fell asleep. I took advantage of the fact to practice some more magic, quietly of course. I only woke him up a couple hours later, when the conductor''s voice announced we only had a couple minutes before arrival. After changing into our robes, we headed out towards an absolute beast of a man bellowing ¡°Firs¡¯ years!¡± who I assumed was Hagrid. The movies truly didn¡¯t do his size justice. He was at least ten feet tall and wider than my height. He took us away from where the rest of the students were walking, down towards the lake. On the way, I managed to get a glimpse of Harry Potter, and let me tell you, he wasn¡¯t much. It seems like the Dursleys had managed to crush his spirit a bit, as he seemed very meek. Eventually, we reached the boats, where I sat with Tony, a girl who introduced herself as Sue Li, and Susan Bones. The boats set off at once, turning a corner and showing me a view that would be burned into my mind till the day I died. Hogwarts castle stood tall and proud before me, shining as a beacon of knowledge and power. Lights glittered like stars in every window, and the tranquil lake reflected the scene. The moon hung overhead, giving the castle an almost ethereal look. I had finally made it. Chapter 6: The Sorting Ceremony The site before me brought silence to everyone in the boats, Hagrid included. I understood the feeling. Nothing in either lives could have prepared me for such a sight. Hogwarts, standing tall above the lake, lights shining all over it. Ignorant of our awe, the boats kept the same pace, and soon we had made it to the castle walls. Passing underneath some vines that obscured a hidden cave, we were brought to a long and narrow staircase leading to a wooden door. One by one, the student¡¯s dismounted the boats onto the landing. Once each and every student was accounted for and on the landing, Hagrid led the way up the stairs. By the time we made it to the top, most student¡¯s were panting, myself included. I had been putting off physical activities in favor of magic since I got here, but seeing Anthon- Tony, I corrected myself, not even break a sweat, I decided to exercise more often. Hagrid brought a fist to the wooden door and made a loud, booming knock, powerful enough for me to feel the vibrations multiple meters away from him. The door must¡¯ve been charmed to withstand such a brutal knock from the half-giant. Not long after he knocked, McGonagall opened the door, looking as stern and regal ever in her green robes and hat. ¡°The firs¡¯ years, Professor McGonagall.¡± He rumbled. Hagrid was truly an enormous man, far bigger than I had thought from the books. If I didn¡¯t know how much of a sweetheart he was I¡¯d be scared out of my wits. ¡°Thank you Hagrid, I will take them from here¡± She said, turning heel and walking into what I presumed was the entrance hall. It was enormous, easily big enough to fit the orphanage I had spent my formative years in. Candles and torches adorned the walls, burning merrily, while portraits were placed in between, talking amicably to each other about the ¡®new batch¡¯ as they called us first years. Not faltering or breaking her stride, McGonagall didn¡¯t let the students gawk for long, leading them into a small antechamber. The students crowded together, shoulder to shoulder as McGonagall cleared her throat and began a speech she must have performed dozens of times. ¡°Welcome to Hogwarts, the start-of-term feast will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the great hall, you will be sorted into your houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your house will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory, and spend free time in your house common room. "The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Each house has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your house points, while any rulebreaking will lose house points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the house cup, a great honor. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours. "The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting." Her eyes scanned the crowd like a fine toothed comb, picking out every imperfection. No matter how much I told myself I didn¡¯t care about such a simple encounter, I still found myself hurriedly attempting to make myself look more presentable. ¡°I shall return when we are ready for you. Please wait quietly.¡± She said as she spun around, marching out of the room. ¡°How exactly do they sort us into houses?¡± A voice from the right asked hesitantly. Harry Potter was looking at a ginger, who I assumed to be Ron, anxiously. Ron didn¡¯t look much better himself, paling slightly and making his freckles more pronounced. Nearly spurting out the answer, I barely caught myself in time. It wouldn¡¯t do to mess up the timeline this early in my journey. While I wasn¡¯t all too concerned at messing up the plot, the butterfly effect was already doing a fine job so I didn¡¯t really want to try to mess it up. I had already resigned myself to a year of training, little adventure to be had. The only event I planned on interfering with was the troll attack. It was simply too dangerous to allow the original plot to play out, especially with my butterfly effect in play. Speaking of trolls, Ron responded, ¡°My brothers said we had to fight a troll, I¡¯m still not sure if he was joking or not.¡± A near visible wave of terror crossed the room at Ron¡¯s words. Nobody expected to be tested the very first day. Of course, some of the purebloods and I knew what the real ¡®test¡¯ was, but none of us said anything. Perhaps one of them might, if it weren¡¯t for the stampede of ghosts that chose that exact moment to wander into our little room. Several people screamed, and many more jumped. Even some of the purebloods got frightened. Even if ghosts were well known, especially at Hogwarts, they were still a rare sight. Not many people outside of Hogwarts students get to see even a single ghost in their lifetime. Because of that, nobody was prepared for the sudden entrance of more than twenty ghosts. ¡°Forgive and forget, I say, we ought to give him a second chance--¡± the short fat one said.This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience. ¡°My dear Friar, haven¡¯t we given Peeves all the chances he deserves? He gives us all a bad name and you know, he¡¯s not even really even a ghost- I say, what are you all doing here?¡± A ghost that I could make out as Nearly-Headless Nick finally noticed us, causing a chain reaction in the other ghosts, all giving introductions and talking about their own houses and the sorting. ¡°Move along now,¡± McGonagall¡¯s sharp voice cut through the chatter like it was butter, causing the students to turn towards her. ¡°The Sorting Ceremony is about to start.¡± Slowly, the ghosts filed away into the separate wall. ¡°Now, form a line and follow me.¡± The first years listened to McGonagall, filing into a single filed line, walking through the Entrance Hall and through a massive pair of beautiful wooden doors into the Great Hall. Immediately I looked up, away from the students and head table towards the ceiling, or sky if my eyes didn¡¯t deceive me. It was even better than I remembered from the movies, a great dark blue expanse covering the entire ceiling, appearing as if the ceiling wasn¡¯t even there in the first place. Wispy clouds dotted around it, with a large, crescent moon hanging in the middle. It was only after Hermione gave her signature explanation that I turned my head down, ignoring the masses of students to instead study the teachers at the Head Table. There were more than a dozen teachers in total in all sorts of robes and hats. I recognized McGonagall and Hagrid, of course, but also recognized Flitwick for his small stature, Snape for his emo-ness, Quirrell for his turban, and of course Dumbledore, who sat at the head of the table with a gentle smile on his face. Seeing him here, it was hard to think of him as the most powerful wizard of the modern age, defeater of Grindelwald and capable of standing toe-to-toe with Voldemort in his prime at such an old age. From here, he simply looked like a happy and friendly old man, looking forward to another year filled with watching over his school. Even so, I made sure I never looked into his eyes, even once. Neither did I look into Snape¡¯s or Quirrell¡¯s eyes. While I at least trusted Dumbledore and, to some extent, Snape to fight the good fight and be the hero, that didn¡¯t mean I wanted them rifling through my head. Legilimancy was a real concern for me, but there wasn¡¯t any way I knew how to learn Occlumency, and the chances of getting caught in the restricted section looking for books on the subject was just too risky. Even if I had the money, I couldn¡¯t go to Diagon Alley to grab some books during the school year. Until the end of the year, I simply resigned myself to not looking them in the eyes, which were key factors in wandless legilimency from what I understood. By the time I got done with scoping out the High Table, we had made it to the front of the Hall, pooling into a blob around an elevated platform with a stool on it, and a hat on top of the stool. The Hall grew quiet as the hat started to shake, and a seam split across the middle, looking eerily like a human mouth. Then, it sang. It sang and sang about the houses and their merits, in a surprisingly talented voice. As it finished with a quick ¡°For I¡¯m a Thinking Cap!¡± the entire Hall burst into applause. Orion heard Ron mutter something to Harry about killing his brother Fred, probably about the whole ¡®wrestling a troll¡¯ thing. Once McGonagall was done politely clapping, she unrolled a scroll of parchment, saying ¡°When I call your name, you put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted. Abbot, Hannah!¡± A small girl with yellow pigtails ran up to the stool, dropping the hat onto her head. There was a small pause before the hat yelled ¡°HUFFLEPUFF!¡± The table with yellow and black colored robes burst into applause, with the rest of the hall politely clapping along. As Hannah sat with the rest of the Hufflepuffs, McGonagall once again called a name. ¡°Bones, Susan.¡± A short pause¡­ ¡°HUFFLEPUFF! ¡°Boot, Terry.¡± ¡°RAVENCLAW!¡± And so it went. Tony went to Ravenclaw, along with Sue Li, one of the people I rode with on the boats. Harry Potter was called up shortly after, causing a hush to fall over the room. The poor kid didn¡¯t seem to be handling his new fame all that well, pinking up slightly and nearly tripping on the way there. He put the hat firmly on his head, and sat. And sat, and sat some more. It took nearly three minutes for the hat to call out, louder than any call before, a resounding ¡°GRYFFINDOR!¡± Applause shot up from the table Hermione went to, making Harry blush some more and nearly sprint to where the twins were singing ¡°We got Potter! We got Potter!¡± and did a little dance. Ron went up some time after that, getting sorted into Gryffindor the second the hat touched his head. ¡°Wright, Orion.¡± There was no hushed whispering or awe as I walked up, but instead it seemed like people were getting bored and hungry, wanting the ceremony to end fast. I reached the stool, sitting on it and pulling the hat over my small head, obscuring my view of the Hall. ¡°Hmm.. an interesting one we have here.¡± A voice not my own sounded out from inside my mind, laced with curiosity. ¡°There¡¯s a lot to decipher here, oh not to worry,¡± It interrupted itself, apparently noticing my growing concern. ¡°I can¡¯t read memories if that¡¯s what you¡¯re thinking. Only personalities. It¡¯s quite a common fear, but baseless. Now, let¡¯s get to business.¡± The hat continued. ¡°Gryffindor is out from the get-go. While I sense traits of bravery in you, you¡¯re not one to rush in blindley. You won¡¯t hesitate to put yourself in harm''s way, but prefer to have ample preparation time. Hufflepuff is out as well. You seem to be quite the dedicated person, hard working too. Both traits are valued in Hufflepuff, but it doesn¡¯t feel quite right. Slytherin values ambition and quick-thinking, things you seem to have in droves, while Ravenclaw values the gathering of knowledge and uncovering the secrets of the world. Both are important traits to your character, but I think I know where I should put you¡­ Better be¡­¡± ¡°RAVENCLAW!¡± Chapter 7: The First Day ¡°RAVENCLAW!¡± The hat screamed. Not really that surprised, I took the hat off and walked slowly towards where Tony had sat down. The sorting continued for a few names, ending on a kid named Blaise Zambini who was promptly sorted into Slytherin. Right as he sat down, Dumbldore stood up, instantly bringing silence to the entire hall. ¡°Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our feast, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit, Blubber, Oddment and Tweak. Thank you.¡± As he declared that, the tables filled with so much glorious food they groaned under the weight. I had never smelled something so amazing. On the table there was anything you¡¯d ever want. Steaks, pork chops, pies, mashed potatoes and greens, any food you could think of was available. I quickly loaded my plate with a steak, mashed potatoes and some pumpkin juice. I¡¯ve never had it, but if it¡¯s anything like pumpkin pie I could see myself drinking it nonstop. As I stuffed my face, Tony started introducing himself to our other house mates. As I suspected, Tony was a natural socialite and quickly got many more friends. As I focused back to my food and my thoughts I felt a hand on my shoulder. Tony had grabbed me to introduce me to his new friends. ¡°Hey guys, this is my friend Orion. He¡¯s a total genius, he¡¯s already learned like a million spells! Orion, these are my new friends Michael, Terry, Su who you remember from the boat, and Lisa.¡± Tony introduced us all. I wasn¡¯t very interested in the idea of making friends with kids so young, but if this was truly my new life I should at least try. ¡°Hey, I¡¯m Orion. Despite what Tony says, I have not learned that many spells. I hope we become good friends.¡± ¡°Hey, no need to be so formal, we¡¯re all friends here. Let''s make the most out of this year!¡± Tony said to me. He was right, I needed to loosen up or else I would never make any friends here. We all ended up talking for the rest of the feast, slowly getting to know each other better. When I told them I knew some spells they of course asked for a demonstration, so I levitated a cookie right out of Michael¡¯s hands and into my mouth. When it elicited some laughs I repeated it with the cookies on the table, three for each person. Making all fifteen cookies levitate and rotate around their heads was childsplay with my wand, I was doing stuff like this without a wand before my tenth birthday afterall. We were all having so much fun that none of us realized the surrounding students had quieted down to watch the spectacle. Once I noticed, I slowly levitated the cookies back onto the plate in the center of the table. ¡°Um.. why is everyone staring?¡± I whispered to Tony. ¡°No idea, maybe it was your spell?¡± ¡°Of course it was the spell!¡± A short, brown haired, slightly chubby girl with blue eyes and a shining prefect badge on her chest overheard us and responded. ¡°How did you do that? Aren¡¯t you just a first year? I can¡¯t even levitate that many objects at once!¡± Once she said that I realized I got carried away. My mind spun at a mile a minute trying to figure out the best course of action. I didn¡¯t realize that levitating so many objects at once was impressive. I didn¡¯t want to stand out or garner any unwanted attention so I just said the truth. ¡°It wasn¡¯t that hard once you have your visualization down. I¡¯ve been practicing the levitation spell non-stop since I got a wand, so I''m bound to be pretty good. I must¡¯ve casted it hundreds if not thousands of times. I grew up in the muggle world so even a ¡®simple¡¯ levitation charm is incredible to me.¡± I said with a dreamy look on my face. I took careful note of who reacted poorly to me outing myself as a muggleborn. They would be an issue in the future. ¡°Even still, that¡¯s really impressive to do before a single class. To be able to cast so proficiently from being self taught is no small feat. No wonder you were sorted into Ravenclaw, it¡¯s the house of the geniuses. We¡¯re glad to have another one.¡± She said with a prideful look on her face. ¡°I¡¯m Marissa Laird, a fifth year prefect by the way. It¡¯s nice to meet you¡­¡± ¡°Orion, Orion Wright.¡± I supplied, ¡°Nice to meet you too.¡± By now the rest of the table had gone back to their own conversations, their curiosity sated. No one noticed Dumbledore looking onto the scene with curiosity burning in his twinkling eyes. After the interaction between Marissa and Orion, the food disappeared and Dumbledore stood up. He delivered the start of year speech and had the prefects take the first years to the common rooms. We went up and up, through the living stairwell towards the top of the castle. Curiosity burned through me at such a wonderful feat of magic. Instead of being a hassle, the stairs took you towards the floor you desired to go, unlike in the books. After all, why would you make a moving staircase only to have it be a hassle all the time. One day, I would figure out how they did it, and maybe even improve it. The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation. As we reached the top of the castle, most of the firsties were out of breath, panting with their hands on their knees. I was among them, and was once again reminded how bad my physique had gotten over the years of inactivity. I made another mental note to start working out or else the walk to class would exhaust me. Noticing the exhaustion, Marissa spoke up. ¡°I know it¡¯s a long walk, but you¡¯ll get used to it. In my opinion, it¡¯s totally worth the view we¡¯ll get once we¡¯re in the common room. Being at the second highest point in the castle has its perks.¡± She winked, emphasizing her point. ¡°The real tough part is the riddle you have to answer to get into the common room. As Ravenclaw¡¯s, you represent the house of the wise and intelligent. Because of that, even entering the common room requires a test of sorts. You have to answer the riddle the eagle gives you, and if you fail to, you''ll have to wait for someone to let you in or go somewhere else.¡± She shrugged and turned around, giving the bronze eagle knocker three solid knocks. Suddenly the eagle seemed to come alive, stretching its neck and wings and letting out a shriek. Then, it spoke the riddle. ¡°I speak without a mouth and hear without ears. I have no body, but I come alive with wind. What am I?¡± Marissa turned to the crowd of first years. ¡°Now, who can answer this one? It seems like a hard one, so don¡¯t feel bad if you can¡¯t answer it. Even I would have to think about it for a little while and I¡¯ve been doing this for years!¡± Everyone had a pensive look on their faces, concentrating hard on the meaning of the words and any hidden meaning behind them. I waited a bit to see if anyone would come up with the answer, but not seeing anyone I spoke up. ¡°An echo,¡± I said to the eagle. The door swung open and revealed a cozy room covered in blue and bronze, with a fireplace on the left, some bookshelves on the right, and two spiral staircases in the middle. ¡°Wow, good job Orion. I hadn¡¯t even figured that out yet. Five points to Ravenclaw, and congrats on being the first person to gain any points this year.¡± Marissa commended me. It wasn¡¯t too hard. Being older than any of the people here, at least mentally, had its perks. As we stepped through the doorway, the entirety of the room opened up to us. The walls were a deep blue with bronze trimmings around them, giving it a regal look. The fireplace casted a warm glow across the room and crackled a merry tune. There were windows all around the circular room, providing an excellent view of the stars, and presumably of the lake and grounds during the day. Comfy looking armchairs spotted the room around with an accompaniment of tables for homework and studying. To the right, there were seven bookshelves, each labeled by year and filled to the brim with hundreds of books. Marissa began to speak, giving a tour of the common room. ¡°Okay firsties, this will be your common room for the next seven years. Here you will study, laugh, cry, make friends and relax. It will be one of your most important rooms in the whole castle. To the left, there is the hangout spot. You can see by the lack of tables that there is no homework to be done by the fire. That is for relaxing only. Sometimes people need a break, and it¡¯s nice to have a designated space for it. Trust me, you¡¯ll learn to love it, no matter how bookwormish you are.¡± ¡°The further you get to the right, the more studious it gets. On the far right there is the Ravenclaw personal library, a collection of books donated to the common room by alumni. You may have ideas of hidden knowledge or powerful spells, but it¡¯s actually just filled with the most common books you¡¯ll need for the curriculum. This still does give us an advantage over other houses because we don¡¯t need to go to the library for every book, but don¡¯t get your hopes up.¡± ¡°Behind me there are the staircases to the dorms. Boys are on the left and girls are on the right. Each of you will have your own room with your name on the door. There is no intermingling allowed in the dorms, if you wish to talk to a friend of the opposite gender, do it in the common room. If you still want to try, the stairs are charmed to not let you up. Consider yourselves warned.¡± ¡°Finally, one of my personal favorite things about Ravenclaw tower is the observatory. If you follow the spiral staircase all the way to the top, it will open up to the top of the tower. It is charmed on the inside to be seen through like glass. If you think the view from the windows is good, just wait till you get up there.¡± ¡°Okay, that concludes the tour. I recommend you spend some time in the common room and get familiar with your surroundings and fellow students. I¡¯m off to my room, goodnight little firsties!¡± As Marissa left, the small crowd of ten kids broke out into chatter, talking about the castle and the magic they¡¯ve seen. I instead went to check out the library. Not very social, I know, but after having finished all the books I had access to I was itching for more. After scanning the first year section, I realized that Marissa was right. There really were no amazing books, just ones that we would probably have to seek out in the library. Even so, with only seven books to my name it was a goldmine. I quickly grabbed ¡°Defense for Dummies: An Introduction to Defense Against the Dark Arts¡±, hoping to find some spells in there that weren¡¯t in our main Defense book. Right as I cracked it open I saw a hand close it. Looking up I saw it was Tony. ¡°Hey Orion, I know you want to read but do you want to explore our rooms with me and the other guys? The girls have already left.¡± He said with an expectant look on his face. Sighing, I knew I couldn¡¯t resist. After the loneliness of the orphanage I knew I couldn¡¯t screw up my social life like that again. I regretfully put the book back on the shelf and followed Tony to the rest of the guys. I recognized Michael and Terry, but the last one wasn¡¯t someone I remembered. ¡°Orion, this is Kevin. Kevin, this is Orion. We weren¡¯t able to meet up during the feast but I managed to talk with him on the walk up to the tower.¡± ¡°It¡¯s nice to meet you Kevin.¡± I said with an outstretched hand. ¡°Likewise.¡± He said, accepting my handshake. ¡°Okay, now that we all know each other let¡¯s go exploring!¡± Tony said with a shout and ran up the stairs. The rest of the boys quickly followed with shouts and laughter. I ran after them with a smile on my face. Maybe this would be more than a place to learn magic. Maybe I would find a home here too.