Accepted

In one corner of London, away from the loud sound of horse-drawn carriages and the smell of animal dung in the streets, stands a luxury restaurant devoid of men and women alike.

Only two people were in attendance: a young white man and an older black man. The young man sat in a chair, eagerly looking out the windows. He had jet-black hair and sapphire blue eyes. He wore a suit fit for royalty, and his whole body was shaking with excitement. He had an impressive frame for his age—15 years old, six feet tall, and 210 pounds. 

The older black man, who looked to be in his 60s or 70s, came from behind the bar with a hot cup of coffee and a glass of high-end wine. His age was immediately noticeable due to his facial wrinkles and gray hair. 

The black man walked over to the shaking young man, placed the two drinks on the table, then got on his knees and bent his head. "Master William, if you would, please drink… I know you must be excited to leave for school, but I cannot understand your irrational enthusiasm."

The young man named William looked down at his servant and said, "Abraham, stand up." William then looked at the warm, milky coffee before him and smiled. Suddenly, his hands stopped shaking, and he carefully brought the cup to his lips. The saccharine aroma from his cup made his mouth water, but before he could drink any of his coffee, he said, "This is a school not of useless knowledge but of power. I wish to learn the intricacies of the world and the power to change the foundation of life. I think I can do that at Hogwarts."

Abraham stood as William Talked. His gray, old facial features had distorted into a smile that encapsulated his face. A billowing laugh then escaped his lips. 

"As much as you crave power, you don't even need it, do you?" Abraham then continued, "Your control extends beyond even the city, but you wish to hold the world in your hand, don't you?"

William took a few gulps of his coffee, looked at Abraham, and smiled. "It's every man's dream to hold the world in their hand." He said. "It isn't that you don't want the power; it's that you've given up your pursuit of it."

"Right, you are, young master," Abraham said, with a stoic face that told of many years of pain.

The restaurant was all but silent as the two stopped their conversation, and William drank his alcohol. The silence didn't last long, though, as a carriage rolled down the street.

The streets were empty; the only sound was the carriage's wheels bumping against the road. It was speeding down the street, and nothing was pulling it. No horse could be seen. It was a fantastic sight, only seen in novels or plays.

"Well, that's my cue to go," William said as he upturned his glass and slammed it on the table. His eyes reflected only wonder, and his smile only revealed his excitement. His shivers continued as he exited his seat and walked to the door. His legs felt weak, and his mouth felt parched. 

"Abraham, keep everything safe while I'm gone. This city might be a shit hole, but it's my shit hole," he said as he arrived at the door of the restaurant. He then turned around and said, with a smile still etched on his face, "Stay safe, old friend," before he walked out the door. 

Abraham's goofy, old man smile then crept back onto his face. "You too, boy. You too."

--------------------------------------

The sky was bright, and the afternoon sun illuminated the streets. The fog made it hard to see clearly, but the ringing of Big Ben in the background signaled Mr. Fig's arrival in London at 3 O'clock on the dot.

"Professor Fig, it's good to see you again. You're punctual as always." William projected his voice aloud, a broad smile evident on his face. The carriage doors opened, and Professor Fig made his way out.

The professor had white slicked-back hair and wrinkly skin, with some white sideburns to match his hair. His slight hunchback made it even easier to look down on him, but even with the wrinkles on his face, and grayed hair, anyone could tell the old man had a good heart.

"Ah, yes, William, it's good to see you," he said with a warm smile. "You haven't been using magic, I hope." The older man chuckled as he said this. 

"Of course not, professor. I made sure to follow your instructions."

"Well, that's good, but you know, in my time teaching you, you've grown faster than many of my other students. Not just the first years either. You've managed to surpass some fourth years in magical theory. It's all quite impressive how-" Professor Fig was interrupted by a man who appeared out of nowhere. His arrival was that of magic. He wasn't there, then he was.

William inwardly gasped as he thought, 'That's magic! That man just teleported! Oh, all the things I would do if I could teleport. All the gold in the world, mine. All the money, women, you name it. It would all be mine.'

A few weeks ago, William would have called this an act of God or even the devil, but now, he knew the truth. It was magic, and he was a wizard.

"Ah, Eleazar Fig, seeing you again is good." The man said as he walked up to Mr. Fig. He gave a firm handshake that turned into a hug. He said, "I'm sorry about your wife, by the way."

Professor Fig pulled away and said, "I miss her every day, but life must keep moving. Though I much appreciate the thought, George." His tone and face looked somber. His eyes were watery as if he could cry at any moment, but he held himself together. He even attempted a fake smile to alleviate the situation. 

Fig then regained his composure. He walked over to the carriage door and pointed inside. "Well, why don't we all get in the carriage? We can discuss things as we leave." 

"Wonderful idea! I can't wait to get to Hogwarts; I missed the cooking the most. And the sorting ceremony is today, so that the food will be extra good!" George said while he practically foamed at the mouth. His rotund body served as an example of his severe overeating.

Then, one by one, they stepped into the carriage. The driver then started wiping his hand up and down. The carriage began to move, first slowly, then fast. As it reached higher speeds, it rose off the ground.

"Holy shit!" William grabbed onto his seat behind him and the door beside him and shut his eyes. He could feel a lump in his stomach as they climbed into the air.

George billowed an amused laugh. "Who exactly is this kid you've got here, Fig? He looks like he's going to wet his pants."

At this point, William opened his eyes and relaxed his body—well, as much as he could. He wasn't afraid of death, so he was sure he wouldn't fear mere heights. 

He removed his hands from the carriage and placed them on his lap, and then William's eyes met George's. William's blue eyes glowed with intensity as if he were trying to burn a hole into George. He regained a sense of calm as they cruised through the clouds. 

'He thinks me a coward. Old geezer!' William thought to himself as he looked out the window. He stared at the perfect white clouds, free of all blemishes but one, a dark spot William assumed to be the cart's shadow.

"My apologies for the lack of introduction. This young man is William Lee Lewis, and he is starting Hogwarts as a fifth year." Professor Fig said In an optimistic tone, trying to lighten the mood.

"That's quite extraordinary; I've never heard of-" George also tried to lighten the mood, but William interrupted him.

"Was that teleportation?" William said with a monotone voice as he looked out the window, fully relaxed. His finger rubbed along the window as condensation formed.

"Hmm?" George looked at William, confused, not knowing what he was talking about.

"That was apparition; it's a technique you'll learn in your seventh year at Hogwarts. It's very complex, and if you're even a hair width off, you could kill yourself." Professor Fig said it with a matter-of-fact attitude. 

"He's quite the curious type, isn't he?" George asked.

"Yes, I'm proud to say that William here has caught up to a fourth-year's experience in magical theory, maybe even surpassed it." The Professor said as he put his hand on William's shoulder like a proud father. "Some kids are good at charms or Alchemy, but magical theory is the foundation for everything. If you master it, you'll master everything!"

'Hmm, I wonder what that shadow in the clouds was?' William thought. It had been there for a while, getting bigger and bigger, but suddenly it disappeared. 'Hmm, maybe a mystical creature lives in the clouds. I learned that wizards and witches are real; sky whales wouldn't be too much of a stretch.'

"Well, anyway, have you heard about this?" George said as he summoned a newspaper and handed it to Mr. Fig.

It read: Ranroks's Goblin Rebellion, Truth? or 'Gobbledegook'?

"Hmm, yes, Ranrok seems to be quite the problem, although people can't make up their minds about him."

"That's actually why I wanted to talk to you. In one of your wife's last letters, she talked about Ranrok and asked if the ministry knew or was doing anything about him."

"Really? I had no idea… I wish I had been there."

"I know it hurts, but with time, it'll get better…" George said as he leaned forward and placed a hand on Mr. Fig's arm. He then pulled away and said, "She sent me this. It came to me via owl." With the twist of a hand, George revealed an ornate container. It was a cylinder of gold and silver with ethereal blue highlights. It had an opulent design at its center, with three fluid-like bands coming together to create a blue flame.

"I haven't been able to open it. So far, it's remained a mystery to me, but I know it must be connected to Ranrok and your wife, Miriam. She sent it without any instructions or information right before she passed. I can only assume she-"

"Had to get rid of it quickly to keep it safe." Professor Fig said. "Hmm, it's unfamiliar to me as well, but it appears to be Goblin Metal." 

William had ignored the old men, but his interest peaked as soon as the container appeared. A faint glowing light emanated from the cylinder's centerpiece.

"What's that glow?" William said.

"What Glow? I don't see any glow," Professor Fig said as he looked at William and then at George. 

"Nor do I…" George looked inquisitively at the cylinder and then William. 

In a moment of curiosity, the professor handed the container to William. Its runes started to glow, becoming visible to everyone, and its mechanisms became noisy. Finally, the container popped open, revealing a key.

"Merlin's beard, h-h-how d-did you-" George bellowed. His eyes ignited with greedy light, and he started to reach for the key.

"Wait, we don't know what-" Professor Fig started.

BOOOOM

Half the carriage was gone, along with George, right into the mouth of a dragon. The dragon's eyes spoke of something primal, like the rage of a god. Its horns curved inward towards its mouth as if its mouth wasn't good enough at killing. The wings of this beast were blood red, contrasting to the ghostly, pale white of its normal skin.

For the first time in his life, William felt genuine fear. To be put in front of that monster's eyes was a truly horrifying experience. It was a killing machine. It was something a mortal mind wasn't supposed to comprehend. It was as if chaos itself manifested.

'I'm going to die. I'm going to die. I'm going to-.' this was the only thought passing through William's mind.

"Hold on," Fig yelled at William. 

William was petrified; the dragon's maw got closer and closer as it let off tiny chomps of its mouth as if trying to intimidate.

William was afraid, yes, but he needed to see if the driver could get them out of this mess. So he turned back, placing his feet on what was left of the carriage's bottom. What he saw made his brain overload: winged, malnourished black horses driving their carriage through the sky. 

'What the hell is going on!?' William thought as he looked back at the dragon, seeing fire flying from its mouth towards him and Professor Fig.

"Jump!" Professor Fig yelled as he grabbed William's hand and jumped out of their chariot.

They entered free fall as the dragon burnt their carriage to a crisp and rammed through it. 

The blood of the animals dutifully transporting their master's now rained from the sky.

The two fell through the clouds, their forms wet with blood and water. The dragon chased after them in a race to the ground.

At that moment, Fig's grip on William's wrist was like that of an eagle gripping its prey. The winds threatened to tear them apart, but Professor Fig didn't let go.

With a dragon behind them and a port key in front of them, the Professor didn't hesitate. He reached into his pocket, pulled out his wand, and called, "ACCIO!!"

The port key was instantly attracted to Fig's hand. Just as the dragon was about to maul its defenseless prey, they teleported away, leaving the dragon to snap its jaw on nothing.