It was a beautiful day, the sun shining high in the sky, the soft cool wind of a spring day blowing through the air, gently carrying the voices of excited children with it.
It was the type of day I hate the most. I was walking back towards the orphanage, leaning heavily on my cane, scowling and glaring at smiling children as the ran past me.
I had lost my leg almost three years ago when I was fifteen. Some people were making fun of me, you know for being an orphan. So I fought them. They ended up snapping my leg, and well it had to be amputated, leaving me with this horrid wooden leg.
I watched as couples leisurely strolled down the streets, hands intertwined. I made sure to walk between as many of them as I could.
I glared at three teens, or as best as I could with only one eye. Long story, I lost my eye when I was fourteen. But I glared at them the best I could, probably the same age as me as they walked by laughing with each other.
The tallest boy was lanky, probably around the same height as me, perhaps a few inches shorter, and had shabby looking hand-me down clothes, only in slightly better condition than my own, with obnoxiously red hair, his face covered in freckles.
The other boy had messy jet black hair, that looked as though it had never been combed before, and a pair of round dorky looking glasses. I scowled at him the most, it was clear from his clothes and appearance that he had money, mummy and daddy probably bought him anything he ever wanted.
The third person with them was a girl, who looked rather annoying. She had bushy brown hair, large buck teeth. She had looked like one of those girls that always knew the answer, or more accurately, always had to know the answer.
I glared at them as they passed, although they paid me no attention. They were too busy laughing with each other.
I scowled as the sun came out from behind a cloud, of course the sun would come out now just to get in my eye.
I hated going back to the orphanage, too many people with too little space, no one bothered me at least, well the don't dare to now anyway. The younger ones were too scared of my appearance, while the older ones were too scared of what I would do to them.
I'll be out of there soon anyway, they only cared about us till we were eighteen, then they throw us out to fend for ourselves.
"It's only a street away now." I thought to myself as I limped off the curb heading into the road, pulling out an old silver pocket watch to check the time, the one thing my parents had left for me.
Suddenly there was a sudden impact, as I was thrown off of my feet, pain radiating around my body. I could feel the pavement underneath my face, along with what felt like a puddle of warm sticky liquid.
"You've met with a terrible fate haven't you?" An old, breathy voice said to me.
I opened my eye, surprised to see I was no longer walking across the road on that beautiful spring day, now I was standing in what seemed to be a dark void.
Faintly I could hear panicked voices, screams and something else.
"What?" I asked looking around for the owner of the voice.
"You've met with a terrible fate." The voice repeated as I was finally able to locate it. A small hunched man was standing a distance away from him, his head and face covered with a dark hood, his gnarled skeletal hands grasping at an old batter wooden staff.
"The hell are you doing here old man?" I asked him, walking towards him. My body felt light almost weightless as I seemed to glide through the air.
Suddenly there was a bright white light and I was thrown off of my feet.
"Wake up kid." Another voice called to me, one that was much gentler, sounding much younger, yet older that my own.
It sounded slightly muffled and staticky, as though it was coming out of a radio that was just out of reach of the signal.
I could still here faint voices in the background muttering indiscernibly.
"Focus on my voice kid." The voice said again, sounding clearer.
I opened my eye again, immediately regretting it as I was blinded by a bright white light.
"Alright kid." The voice said again, coming from a man that stood a few feet away from him. The faint voices from the background had faded now.
"Things are gonna get weird for you, just be warned." The man said to him. He stood about the same height as me, his hair slightly longer than mine, but combed back neatly so that it was out of his warm eyes. He wore a pair of round glasses that glinted and reflected the bright light around them.
He has a long black trench coat pulled around him, that ended just below his knees, black leather gloves covering both of his hands.
"We haven't got much time." He said pulled out a pocket watch that looked like mine, except older and more battered. The bright white light was starting to get bright, and I had to squint to see anything now.
"Keep hold of yours alright, don't lose it." The man told me sternly. "It's really important alright."
"Who are you?" I asked him, having to shield my eyes from the light now.
"Not much time now... be safe, and don't lose that watch!"
....
"Oi wake up (Y/n)!" My brothers voice called to me pulling me out of my dream.
"Ugh." I groaned rolling over. Almost as soon as I had been so rudely awoken my dream was gone. I couldn't even remember what it was about, all I knew was that it seemed so so familiar.
"Oi get up!" My brother called again throwing a pillow at me.
"Fine I'm up Ronald!" I snapped at my brother, throwing the pillow back at him, and rolling out bed complaining loudly.
"Breakfast is ready boys!" My mum's called up to us from the ground floor.
"We're coming mum!" I called back to her, quickly getting changed.
"Oi breakfast is ready you too." Fred said as he passed the room I shared with Ron.
"Didn't you two hear it's time for breakfast!" George repeated as he was walked by. Fred and George were twins, and two of my older brothers.
"We bloody heard!" Ron snapped back at twins.
"Better not let mum hear you take that tone with us." Fred said.
"Come on then (N/n)." Ron said after I had dressed.
"Give me a moment." I told him, grabbing the silver pocket watch from my bedside table, slipping it into the pocket of my hand me down jeans.
It was the only thing my parents had left me, even though I had no idea who they were. Dad told me my dad was murdered by You Know Who, and that my mother went soon after that.
I stretch as we left our room, tugging at the sleeves of my shirt that a few inches too short, as we made our way from the fifth floor of the Burrow to the kitchen on the ground floor.
"There you two are, thought I was going to have to drag the two of you out of bed myself." Mum said as we entered taking a seat at the table.
"Fat chance of that." Fred snorted.
"Yeah with how deep (N/n) sleeps it's take a troll to wake him up." George continued.
"And in the mornings Ron's about as much use as a confounded dung beetle." Fred finished, the two of them sniggering to themselves.
"That's enough of that boys." Mum said giving them a stern look before placing a plate in front of each of them.
"Thanks mum!" I said before starting on my breakfast. Ron mumbled smithing through a mouthful of food.
"Don't talk with your mouthful Ron, how many times have I told you that." Mum chided Ron.
"Where's Perce mum?" I asked looking around not seeing him other brother there.
"Percy has already set out into town." Mum explained, already getting started in the dishes.
"Hey Gin." I said a moment later as my sister Ginny walked down the stairs.
"Hey (N/n), you were hissing in your sleep again, another bad dream?" She asked me.
I just shrugged. "Don't really remember to be honest."
"He wasn't loud." Ron replied, having already finished his food.
"Course you wouldn't hear Ronald." Fred interjected.
"Too busy snoring." George finished.
"Goodmorning Weasley!" Dad exclaimed as he entered through the front door, pulling mum into a hug and planting a kiss on her head.
"Ginny my darling sleep well?" Dad said pulling her into a one armed hug.
"Fred and George what mischievous schemes do you have cooked up today hm?" He asked the twin rustling their brilliant red hair.
"Ah and finally Ron and (Y/n), I've got some letter for the two of you." And with that dad tossed a letter to each of us.
Ron and I looked at each other wide eyed. "No way!" I muttered to him.
"It is." He replied in equal awe staring at the crest of Hogwarts.
We looked at each other for a moment longer before nonverbally agreeing, and tearing into the letter.
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. Weasley,
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 on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31.
Yours sincerely,
Minerva McGonagall,
Deputy Headmistress
"Well I'll be, looks like I owe you a galleon George." Fred said reading the letter over my shoulder. "I could've sworn he was a muggle."
"Oi Oi don't you forget who turned your broom into licorice." I told them frowning.
"Yeah I don't think you'll be forgetting that soon Fred." George said. "You fell right into a gnome hole."
I joined in with my brothers as we all shared a laugh. I couldn't be happier. I had convinced myself that I was a muggle, and receiving this letter now... well it was confirmation that I belonged.
"Well then." Mum said as she read over Ron's letter. "Looks like we'll be making a trip to Diagon Alley."