The man looked around the street, not paying any attention to the body of the man who had attacked John, who was still sprawled out in the grass.

“Is he dead?” John asked uncertainly. The man rolled his eyes, as if he had no time for dull conversations.

“Stunned, we aurors don’t kill.” He said.

“So you’ll let him just wake up and attack someone else?” John asked. He could tell the man was so done with John and his questions, but he had to ask, he didn’t want anyone else to get hurt. The man flicked the stick/wand around lazily, and from the tip appeared a blue mist, taking form into an otter. John stepped back in fear, as if the blue otter would attack him. The man muttered something under his breath at the otter, which swam across the air and disappeared into the horizon.

“What in the world was that!” John demanded, backing away in fear. What type of horrible hallucinations was he having?

“It doesn’t matter, Dumbledore is coming to collect the Death Eater and he’ll be thrown in Azkaban.” The man said. John stared at him with absolute confusion, was this some sort of gang or something, a foreign country?

“Ugh, muggles, all the same, come on.” He insisted, walking down the street towards John’s house as if everything was completely normal. John stayed where he was, debating whether he should run from the psychopath or not.  He turned, walking backwards now, and pointed the wand at John with annoyance.

“I don’t want to have to carry you.” He called. John quickly jogged to catch up, deciding that whoever this was, they were probably here to help, even if he wasn’t exactly polite about it.

“Where are we going?” John asked.

“Hogwarts.” The man said.

“What is that?” John asked, more confused than nervous.

“It’s somewhere safe.” He said simply.

“I should get my family then, they might be in danger too.” John said.

“No, only you.”

“I have to at least tell them where I’m going!” John debated.

“I’m sorry, but I simply can’t complicate things more than this, you already know too much.”

“No, I have to tell them!” John demanded. The man sighed, as if he was taking care of a child or something, but John didn’t care, he couldn’t walk off to some safe haven when his parents had no idea where he was going. They could be in danger, and if they got hurt it would be his entire fault, he could never forgive himself. They walked further up the street, John could see the roof of his house sticking up farther than the rest. The man didn’t show any signs of stopping, and John hoped that he would be able to run to his house. As they approached, John could see the blinds pulled on the front windows, which he thought was odd.

“Mr. whoever you are, please, let me check on them, they could be in danger.” John pleaded. The man stopped, turned, and looked at John, who was doing his best puppy dog eyes, even though this guy didn’t seem like the type to easily change his mind. His hard eyes stared at John, but something seemed to change in them, maybe a bit of sympathy.

“Fine, go check, I’ll be here, you have five minutes to say goodbye.” The man said. John was so relieved he could have given him a hug, but he was not going to do that. he sprinted up the sidewalk of his house and swung the door open.

“Mom, Harry, I’m home!” John called through the house. The lights were off in the rooms, and there was no answer. His enthusiasm died a little bit as he shut the door behind him.

“Anyone here?” John asked, a little bit quieter now. The house was dark, the blinds were shut, preventing any light from coming in. There was still no answer, and John nervously walked into the kitchen, where his mom would usually be at this time. There was no sign that she even started to cook, the dishes from lunch still sat in the sink, unwashed. Now John was worried, his mom would never leave dirty dishes lying around. John crept around the corner as silently as possible, had his attacker stopped here first? He peeked his head around the corner into the living room, and his heart broke right there. His mother, father, and sister, were all lying on the floor, their eyes open in surprise, but they weren’t seeing anything, and they weren’t moving. There was no blood, no visible injuries, but they had been hit with the death without symptoms, it was impossible. John screamed, he didn’t know how loud, he fell to his knees in the doorway, his legs unable to support him any longer. He felt the tears start coming, pouring down his face uncontrollably as he found himself an orphan. The three people that meant the most to him where gone forever, and there was no getting them back. John felt someone put their arms around him, whether to comfort him or drag him away, he didn’t care at the moment. He sobbed into his hands, his head leaning uncomfortably on the white wooden doorframe. He could hear someone saying something, but he couldn’t translate it, he just heard sounds. His head was supported now by someone, and they were trying to get him to stand up, but he couldn’t find the strength or the care to stand and leave, there was no point anymore, no one to come back to. He would sit and rot on this floor for the rest of eternity if he could.

“We need to go!” someone mumbled, sounding far away. John pushed the arms away, burying his head in his arms. They gripped his arm and tried to pull him to his feet, but John smacked the hand away and curled into a little ball.

“Oh I’m so done with you!” He exclaimed. He muttered something, and the horrible living room was replaced by darkness and John lost consciousness.

                He woke up in what seemed to be a wind storm, colors and flashes of light whipping past him in a funnel that looked like a tornado. His head was against the stranger’s chest, being held to him as they flew through the air. He screamed again, holding onto the man as a lifeline, afraid to fall out. Then the ground appeared beneath him, and the man stood up. John’s feet didn’t touch the floor though, his legs were wrapped around the stranger so he was clinging to him like a sloth. John looked around, they seemed to be in some sort of office, filled with people, all watching them with curiosity. John looked around, and slowly let go of the man, standing on the ground hesitantly. Some of the people sat at a long wooden conference table, others stood off to the side, but they were all watching them.

“Who is this?” a stern looking lady asked. She was old, with small glasses on her nose and her hair pulled into a tight bun on the top of her head. There weren’t electric lights on the ceiling, instead it was light with torches, and there was an old looking wardrobe in the corner. John’ s first thought was that he was transported to the eighteenth century.

“He was attacked by a Death Eater, I was able to save him, but he saw too much. His family was killed.” The man explained. The expressions in the room turned tragic, as if they personally knew John’s family. The memories came rushing back to him like a brick wall, and when he hit it he felt like curling up in a ball and crying again, but he had to be strong. All of these people were watching and he couldn’t look like a baby.

“What are we supposed to do about that?” Asked a man in the corner. John hadn’t noticed him before, but he looked evil. He talked slowly, with a deep, terrifying voice. He had shoulder length black greasy hair and wore black robes, pale skin, and a hooked nose. John already knew he didn’t like him.

“I don’t know, but I couldn’t leave him to the Death Eaters if they come back.” the man defended.

“He’s a muggle?” A short woman with frizzed hair asked from the back. The man nodded.

“I’m sorry, but I have no idea what is going on here, who are you people, where am I, what in the bloody world is a muggle?” John demanded, trying to take control of the room. They all ignored him, to his fury.

“Put him in the hospital wing, he looks pretty banged up.” the woman said. The man nodded and started walking out the door. John didn’t go anywhere though, he looked around the room.

“Come on!” The man demanded, leaving the door open for him to follow. John followed reluctantly, just remembering his injuries now. They didn’t seem to matter though, somewhere his family was rotting on the floor, and he couldn’t do anything about it.

“Please tell me where I am.” John pleaded, trying to act nice now. The halls were completely made of stone, and it reminded him of a castle he toured one time, back in London. The halls were empty, but there were closed wooden doors with windows, and he could see kids sitting in desks, writing things down with what looked to be feather quills.

“Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.” The man said. John almost stopped walking, that was not the answer he was expecting.

“Witchcraft and Wizardry? Do you mean magic?” John asked.

“Yes.”

“Magic? So you guys are all magicians in circuses and stuff?”

“No, actual magic, it’s real, get it through your thick skull. I gave you a potion before we disapperated, it allows you to see the school as it really is. There’s a spell on it, muggles only see crumbling walls in an empty building, and so once everything seems to be falling apart we need to give you another dose.” The man decided.

“Potion? Like a drug?” John asked uncertainly.

“No, not a drug!” The man insisted. John sighed, knowing he was going nowhere with this conversation.

“I never got your name.” John pointed out.

“Sherlock.” Sherlock said simply.

“I’m John.” John said. Sherlock was a very odd name, which matched with the odd person titled with it. Someone talking about magic, and potions, and wizards, it was all impossible and that was the only option at the moment.