Chapitre 2: Chapter -2
Disclaimer :- Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling
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It has been 2 years since that fateful day—the day I woke up in this world. I got into the routine quickly enough. Study, play, practice magic, and then sleep. It has been a peaceful 2 years, really.
The biggest development for me was my growth in magic. What started with a slightly uneasy feeling of static electricity and an insta-heal to Emily at the park has grown in what I can only consider leaps and bounds. Yeah, I know, I don't have a concrete metric to measure my growth, but being able to levitate things can do wonders for your confidence. Now if only I can use that levitation on myself and fly. Something to achieve in the future, I guess.
It started small, as these things do. I remember the first time I made a book float. I had been practicing intensely, focusing on the way I could feel the magic in my body, trying to direct it with my will. After many failed attempts, there it was—a paperback novel hovering shakily in the air before falling to the floor with a thud. I nearly jumped out of my skin in excitement. Since then, I've moved on to more complex objects and even managed to levitate two items simultaneously.
My magical growth has not been without its challenges, however. Learning control has been crucial. One evening, while I was particularly frustrated with a math problem, my pencil case exploded in a shower of erasers and pencils. My parents chalked it up to a manufacturing defect, but I knew better. After that, I dedicated more time to meditation and visualization techniques, which seemed to help channel my magical energy more efficiently.
Apart from magic, studies have been going extremely well—not just because I wanted to be the best, but also because the courses for kids are not made to challenge grown adults. It does get boring, though, and I sometimes think that's why so many child prodigies and geniuses fall off before reaching their full potential. I mean, if you don't find something challenging and you know you can coast along in your life by barely applying yourself, it must be a huge psychological hurdle. But enough of these thoughts; my family has also been awesome, although at this point, I think both my parents are somewhat suspicious about me. Well, not me particularly, but they've noticed weird things happening around me when I lose control over my emotions.
I am 8 years old now, and I can't wait to grow up—both physically because being small sucks and magically because, well, magic!!! Duh!!!
2 and a half years later
I finally came to know which world I am in. Although in hindsight, I must say it should have been obvious, and by that logic, I should not have discarded the most logical choice. Yes, I am indeed in the HARRY POTTER UNIVERSE. The Hogwarts acceptance letter came, and wasn't that a surprise. I will be joining Hogwarts as a first-year in September 1991. Coincidence? Yeah, no, definitely not. Whoever said fates were subtle was high on some dubious things.
Back in my home, there was a movie called 'The Last Witch Hunter.' The actor was a very family-loving guy. In that, there was a dialogue that came to my head when I finally figured this out, and it went something like this: "One means nothing. Two, a coincidence. Three, trouble."
One - Merged with a 6-year-old boy in Britain in 1986.
Two - Blessed with magic.
Three - Hogwarts calling, that too in the same bloody year as the Golden Trio.
So, trouble, yeah, Trouble indeed, and the name of that trouble would be Voldemort. The no-nosed maniac will be making a grand return in a few years to upturn the magical government for the pureblood cause.
And all of this without considering the sheer hatred and racism I would be facing just because I will be a muggleborn. Fan-fucking-tastic!!!
After panicking for a good while, I finally got a hold of myself. While it can be argued that even among the magical worlds that I could have been in, the display of magic in Harry Potter was rather tame, especially compared to some of the animes that I had watched, it was undoubtedly more ruthless and cruel. The power of friendship is definitely not going to generate plot armor for me here. I mean, I would consider myself lucky but not that lucky.
But all was not bad. My family finally got an explanation for the weird things that happened around me. Surprisingly, both my parents were happy but sad as well because I would be gone for most of the year as an 11-year-old. I also tried to remember some of the basic spells of this universe, and the only ones I could remember were 'Wingardium Leviosa,' 'Lumos,' and 'Nox.' All were basic enough to be mastered in a few days as I have been practicing with my magic for almost 5 years now. But it also tells me just how much I still have to grow; after all, I am not flinging out curses or a corporeal patronus.
I still do have some time left, though. Hogwarts letters come in June of the year you turn 11 by September 1st. Mine came on June 16th. Today is June 20th, and although I have requested in the response letter for someone to come and help me with this as a muggleborn as soon as possible, I am honestly starting to think that I might have offended them. I will not consider it my fault though; the letter tells you what all you have to bring to Hogwarts but not where you can buy them. So like it or not, I have to wait.
Surprisingly, I got a response. It was short and to the point. One Madame Minerva McGonagall will be taking me through to buy my supplies on Saturday, the 13th of July. While not ideal, it still left me with a month and a half, and I am confident that I can at least get through half of the first-year course by that time. My parents would also be coming with me, of course, and they are almost as excited as me.
The day of the visit and shopping came soon enough, and I, to my surprise, found myself a bundle of nervous energy. You know, it's one thing to read about something in a book, daydream about scenarios of what you would have done if you were in that situation. I still remember being pissed off at the final fight. A killing curse stopped by an Expelliarmus—a bloody Expelliarmus. An untrained boy raised for slaughter became an unlikely hero, and I had hated that. But now, being part of that world, I can't help but think that when the time comes to choose—and it most certainly will—what really would I do?
Not to mention, I had started to procrastinate a lot in the last few weeks. I should have already started making plans on what to accomplish and how to accomplish them. It was almost like as the date of meeting Professor McGonagall was coming near, I was almost hoping to be anywhere except here.
And just as these thoughts were swirling through my head, the doorbell rang. I knew who was on the other side, of course, I knew, and yet for some reason, my legs felt heavy.
"C'mon now, this will be an adventure of a lifetime," I tried to pump myself up. I gathered my thoughts and went to open the door, only to find my father already there greeting a woman who looked to be in her late 40s. And soon enough, the stern face of Professor McGonagall came into view.
"Hello, Mr. Phillips, are you ready for your shopping?" Professor McGonagall asked.
"Hello, ma'am. Yes, I am ready, although my parents also wanted to come with us. Hopefully, that would not be a problem?" I greeted back and asked the question in the same breath.
I would see her lips thinning a bit, but she nodded yes. And with that, the adventure of my lifetime officially began. Although I am not even on the Hogwarts Express yet, for all intents and purposes, I was a wizard-in-training. Now let's go and buy some books.
Diagon Alley was everything I had imagined and more. The bustling streets filled with witches and wizards going about their business, the array of shops selling everything from spellbooks to potions ingredients, and the palpable sense of magic in the air left me in awe. As we walked, Professor McGonagall explained various things to my parents, who were equally fascinated.
Our first stop was Gringotts. The imposing white building was just as intimidating as described. We were greeted by a goblin who led us to a cart that took us deep into the bank's underground vaults. The ride was thrilling and slightly terrifying, especially for my parents, who clung to the sides of the cart for dear life. My vault, inherited as a part of the Hogwarts trust for muggleborns, wasn't particularly full but had enough Galleons, Sickles, and Knuts to cover my school supplies and then some.
Next, we visited Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions. Getting fitted for my Hogwarts robes was an experience in itself. The fabric felt luxurious, and I couldn't help but feel a surge of pride seeing myself in the mirror, wearing the black school robes for the first time.
Ollivanders was another highlight. The shop was narrow and shabby, with boxes upon boxes of wands stacked to the ceiling. Mr. Ollivander himself seemed to appear out of nowhere, and he took one look at me and muttered something about "another curious case." After trying several wands that resulted in minor explosions and a few broken objects, I finally found my match: a 10¾ inch wand made of holly with a phoenix feather core. The moment I held it, warmth spread through my fingers, and sparks flew from the tip.
We spent hours in Flourish and Blotts, where I eagerly picked out my textbooks. "The Standard Book of Spells" by Miranda Goshawk, "A History of Magic" by Bathilda Bagshot, and many others that I couldn't wait to dive into. My parents were amazed by the sheer variety of magical subjects and even picked up a few books on magical theory for themselves.
Our last stop was the apothecary. The smells were overwhelming—a mix of herbs, potions, and ingredients I couldn't even begin to identify. I carefully selected the items on my school list, while Professor McGonagall explained their uses to my parents. They were particularly fascinated by the dragon liver and powdered moonstone.
As we made our way back home, loaded with bags of magical supplies, I felt a mixture of excitement and apprehension. The day had been a whirlwind, and it finally hit me that this was real. I was going to Hogwarts, a place I had only read about in books. The realization brought a sense of responsibility and determination. This was my chance to make a mark, to learn and grow in ways I never could have imagined in my previous life.
Over the next few weeks, I immersed myself in my new textbooks, practicing spells and trying to absorb as much information as possible. My favorite was "The Standard Book of Spells," which had detailed instructions and helpful tips for each spell. I spent hours practicing "Wingardium Leviosa," "Lumos," and "Nox," perfecting my wand movements and incantations. My early magical practice gave me an edge, and I quickly mastered the first-year spells.
Despite my progress, there was still a nagging fear at the back of my mind. The knowledge that I was entering a world fraught with danger, prejudice, and the looming threat of Voldemort's return was daunting. But I pushed those thoughts aside, focusing instead on the immediate task at hand—preparing for my first year at Hogwarts.
The days flew by, and soon it was time to leave for King's Cross Station. My parents were a bundle of nerves, fussing over every detail and making sure I had everything I needed. As we stood in front of the barrier between platforms 9 and 10, Professor McGonagall appeared again to guide us through. With a final hug and words of encouragement from my parents, I took a deep breath and pushed my trolley through the barrier.
Emerging on the other side, I was greeted by the sight of the Hogwarts Express, a magnificent scarlet steam engine. The platform was bustling with students and their families, all preparing for the journey to Hogwarts. I spotted a few familiar faces from the books, but I kept my distance, not ready to reveal my presence just yet.
Finding an empty compartment, I settled in and watched as more students boarded the train. The excitement and chatter were infectious, and I couldn't help but smile. This was it—the start of my adventure in the magical world.
As the train pulled away from the station, I looked out the window, taking in the sights of London fading into the countryside. I felt a mix of excitement, determination, and a touch of fear. But I knew that whatever lay ahead, I was ready to face it. This was my new life, and I was determined to make the most of it.
L’AVIS DES CRÉATEURS 
dudeavi001
dudeavi001 Author's Note : - The last got a bit rushed as I tried to reach atleast 1500-1600 words for this chapter and yeah I know McGonagall appearing on the platform for 1 kid and that not even being the Boy-who-Lived was week.
Anyways, as I have said, I always welcome constructive feedback so waiting for your reviews.
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