Interlude: Generic Hero Part II

Author Note:

For those that don't want to know the hero's identity and boon, i suggest you don't open the spoilers.

Author Note end.

With the acceptance letter to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry clutched tightly in his hands, Ethan's world turned topsy-turvy. The inked words on the parchment seemed almost too good to be true as he read and reread the letter, desperately hoping it wasn't all a dream. The chance to learn magic, a potential solution for his grandmother's condition, ignited a flame of hope within him.

Lost in a whirlwind of thoughts, Ethan carefully weighed his options. Attending Hogwarts would mean leaving his grandmother behind, a prospect that tugged at his heartstrings. How could he bear the thought of her well-being without his constant care? Yet, the allure of the prestigious magical school and the limitless possibilities it held beckoned to him irresistibly.

As a child in his old world, he had watched the Harry Potter movies and even shared the excitement of the Fantastic Beasts film in the cinema with his mother, a devoted fan of the series. Little did he imagine that he would be transported into that very world.

In a moment of serendipity, Ethan found solace in the fact that he hadn't met the prerequisites for his programming skills. It was as if fate had redirected his path, leading him toward a destiny far grander than he ever anticipated. The only uncertainty lingered in his mind — would he cross paths with the famous characters of the story? He pondered the timeline of the movies and books, questioning if the events played out in sync with his own journey. Nevertheless, armed with his unique skills, he knew he would grow and excel as a wizard.

His imagination ran wild as he envisioned himself triumphing over Voldemort, becoming the pinnacle of magical prowess. The Philosopher's Stone seemed like a gateway to eternal life, the ultimate panacea to all his problems. With it, his grandmother would be granted a chance at immortality, affording him the time to seek a cure for her condition. The power he would possess could reshape the world, aligning with his desire to bring about real change.

Excitement and anticipation coursed through Ethan as he eagerly showed his grandmother the acceptance letter. However, to his surprise, her initial reaction was one of tears. After composing herself, she conveyed the urgency of showing him something of great importance and embarked on a frantic search throughout the house, her murmurs revealing her conviction that she had left it somewhere specific.

Ethan, perplexed but determined to assist, found himself at a loss as to what his grandmother sought. Hours passed before she finally discovered the elusive item she had been desperately seeking—an old, weathered letter. As Ethan began to read its contents, tears welled in his eyes. It was a missive from his birth parents, an emotional revelation that would reshape his understanding of his own history.

The letter conveyed their unwavering love for him and their primary objective: to safeguard him from the perils of the ongoing wizarding war. His mother, it turned out, was his grandmother's niece, and their intent was to shield him from the dangers befalling aurors and other magical folk who were disappearing amidst the chaos. The letter outlined their plan to correspond monthly, pledging to reclaim him once the conflict had ceased. They provided Grandma Brown with instructions to follow should they perish and their magical abilities manifest, albeit with vague descriptions. On the reverse side of the letter, a personal message awaited Ethan—a message his grandmother was meant to share when he displayed magical aptitude.

Essentially, the letter served as a poignant apology from his parents, expressing their regret for not being present in his life and the probable reality of their demise by the time he read their words. They illuminated the dire circumstances surrounding the war, cautioning him never to dabble in dark magic or align himself with the nefarious dark lord. They described him as a monstrous figure responsible for the deaths of Ethan's true grandparents, his uncle, and countless others.

His parents had managed to amass enough funds to secure his education, urging him to live frugally without worrying excessively about money. Although they wished they could have provided more, their youth had limited their opportunity to accumulate substantial wealth. As Ethan absorbed the letter's final sentiments, he gently wiped away his tears and felt a newfound warmth. While he had never known his birth parents, discovering their love for him and their desire to protect him touched him deeply.

Though he understood that his grandmother would not have received subsequent letters from them, a glimmer of hope flickered within Ethan as he turned to her with an inquisitive gaze. Regrettably, she shook her head, signaling that no more correspondences had arrived. Still, he resolved to ask her again later, ensuring there was no chance of overlooked mail even though she seemed to be having a good day.

It became clear to Ethan that his parents had saved his life by sending him away, their own lives tragically cut short shortly after. With anger and frustration in mind he promised himself that he would take a few parts of Voldemort's soul as a revenge. Yet, in the wake of this revelation, a new concern crept into his mind. Unlike Harry Potter, he lacked a Hagrid figure who would escort him to Diagon Alley. He hoped that if his lack of response triggered concern, someone from the wizarding world would be sent to assist him. Without a magical owl to respond to any inquiries in the first place, he couldn't help but panic at the absence of additional mail. He had even prepared plans to visit Harry at 4 Privet Drive, hoping to seek out the enigmatic squib who had a fondness for cats, in the event no one came forward to aid his journey to Hogwarts. A Plan that was only possible because he remembered so much of the movies because his memorizing skill helped him.

The following day a resonant knock resounded through the apartment door. Ethan's heart swelled with hope, for such unforeseen visitors were a rarity in their lives. With bated breath, he swung open the door, his eyes widening in anticipation. And there, standing before him, was none other than Professor McGonagall herself—towering, stern, yet with a glimmer of warmth in her expression. Ethan's excitement could hardly be contained, his face lighting up like a child who had just caught a glimpse of Santa Claus. With a confirming nod, he eagerly welcomed her inside, extending a gracious offer of tea, which she graciously declined.

Seated together at the dining table within their modest three-room apartment, Ethan and Professor McGonagall engaged in conversation. The professor revealed that a magical safety mechanism had alerted her to a problem concerning him. With eager enthusiasm, Ethan quickly explained his predicament—the inability to respond to the initial letter, the lack of access to crucial books, and his overall need for guidance and assistance.

Understanding the urgency of his situation, Professor McGonagall nodded empathetically, her gaze shifting towards Grandma Brown. With genuine regret, she apologized, acknowledging the oversight caused by their assumption that Ethan had grown up within the magical world, thus rendering a personal delivery of the letter unnecessary.

Though a sense of neglect initially crept into Ethan's thoughts, he recognized that mistakes can occur even in the world of magic. With Professor McGonagall's timely arrival, he now had a mentor, a vital connection to the enchanting realm he longed to explore.

The conversation continued, with the professor providing invaluable guidance and outlining the steps they would take to rectify the situation. Plans were made to secure the essential books and supplies, ensuring Ethan would be fully prepared for his impending journey into the wizarding world. Professor McGonagall reassured him that arrangements would be made for his transportation to Diagon Alley, alleviating his earlier worries. She emphasized that, despite occasional missteps, the wizarding community remained steadfast in their commitment to supporting young witches and wizards like him.

However, one predicament remained unresolved—his grandmother's deteriorating condition and the challenge of ensuring her well-being. Financial stability was fleeting, and the exorbitant costs of an elderly care facility seemed insurmountable. As Professor McGonagall prepared to depart, proclaiming that all other concerns had been addressed, Ethan mustered the courage to request a private conversation, signaling with his eyes that he wished to speak without his grandmother's presence.

Understanding his need for confidentiality, the professor nodded understandingly and followed him into his bedroom, which, fortuitously, he had tidied just the day before. Ethan poured out his heart, sharing his grandmother's declining health and the immense challenges they faced. With genuine sympathy and a desire to assist, Professor McGonagall pondered the situation for a moment. Finally, she suggested that certain potions existed that could enhance memory retention, possibly providing some relief for his grandmother. However, she cautioned that the potions' efficacy in recovering lost memories was uncertain, though they could potentially prevent further decline. While not exorbitantly expensive, they were also not inexpensive.

Noting Ethan's crestfallen expression upon mention of the costs, the professor offered a glimmer of hope. She promised to personally speak with Professor Snape, the accomplished potions master at Hogwarts, seeking his expertise in teaching Ethan the efficient brewing of the memory-enhancing potion. By doing so, they could minimize expenses by producing the potion themselves. If this approach proved insufficient, she vowed to consult with the headmaster, exploring further avenues of assistance.

With a deep breath, Ethan expressed his heartfelt thanks to Professor McGonagall, feeling a surge of determination to assist his grandmother in any way he could.

---

A week later, Ethan and Grandma Brown eagerly boarded the Knight Bus, clutching the tickets that had arrived in the mail just two days prior. Excitement radiated from Grandma Brown, who couldn't help but reminisce about her sister's stories of the legendary bus from their childhood, stories she had dismissed until now.

Upon their arrival at the Leaky Cauldron, they joined Professor McGonagall, who was already waiting with a group of young muggleborn witches and wizards and their parents. As they stood there, the muggle parents expressed a mix of disbelief and wonder, their curiosity piqued by the enchanting world surrounding them.

Led by Professor McGonagall, the group made their way into Diagon Alley. The young witches and wizards were positioned in the front row, allowing them a perfect view of the precise stones that Professor McGonagall tapped with her wand, unveiling the hidden entrance.

Their shopping spree extended longer than expected, as some stores had limited capacity, requiring others to wait patiently, while certain parents bombarded the clerks with inquiries, seemingly more eager than their own children. Ethan, however, was relieved when Professor McGonagall swiftly dismissed the request to visit the store showcasing broomsticks in their windows, focusing instead on acquiring the necessary supplies.

While waiting for what felt like an eternity in the line at Olivanders, Ethan watched as Olivander attended to other customers, his aged hands expertly handling the delicate wands.

Finally, it was Ethan's turn. The old wizard, with his wild hair and piercing eyes, fixed his gaze upon Ethan and promptly began taking measurements without wasting a moment. His voice carried a mixture of curiosity and wisdom as he inquired, "And your name, young wizard?"

"Ethan Brown," he replied, his voice tinged with a mixture of nerves and excitement.

Olivander's eyes seemed to sparkle with hidden knowledge as he heard the name, prompting him to embark on a winding monologue. "Ah, Mr. Brown, a name with history, I dare say. Your parents and grandparents had their own wands made by me, tragic endings they met, I'm afraid."

With the measurements completed, Olivander turned to the vast array of wands that adorned the shelves behind him. He retrieved the first wand and handed it to Ethan—an elegant Hazel wood wand with a unicorn core. But before Ethan could even grasp it properly, Olivander swiftly plucked it from his hand, his wrinkled face contorting with dissatisfaction.

"Curious, curious," Olivander murmured, his voice laced with intrigue. "A difficult case it seems. Let us try another, shall we?"

One by one, Ethan was presented with a succession of wands, each holding the promise of unlocking his magical abilities. Yet, with every attempted wave, Olivander's discerning eye detected the subtle signs of misalignment. The wands rattled, sparks fizzled, and a few even emitted peculiar sounds, indicating that they were not the perfect match before he could even wave them.

Ethan couldn't help but feel a mixture of frustration and anticipation with each unsuccessful attempt. He was caught in a dance of hope and disappointment, his yearning to discover his true wand growing with every passing moment.

After the tenth wand failed to resonate, Olivander's face betrayed a hint of curiosity. He carefully retrieved an ornate box, containing a wand crafted from rare Elderwood, its core consisting of a thestral tail hair—a solemn and mystical combination. This wand, Olivander explained, was an attempt to recreate the legendary Elder Wand, said to possess immense power.

As Ethan held the Elderwood wand, a surge of energy coursed through him, causing water to surge from every nook and cranny of the shop. Olivander, caught off guard, hurriedly waved his own wand, trying to restore order. It was a moment of chaos, but Ethan couldn't help but feel a flicker of excitement at the raw power he had momentarily unleashed.

Undeterred by the earlier mishap, Olivander's eyes gleamed with determination. He retrieved yet another wand, this time carved from English Oak wood with a phoenix feather core. It was rumored to be akin to Merlin's own wand, steeped in ancient magic and legend. Ethan's hand trembled as he held it, hoping for a connection, but the wand seemed resistant, causing grass to sprout uncontrollably from the damp floor.

Disappointment washed over Ethan, his enthusiasm waning with each unsuccessful attempt. But then, as if sensing his dejection, Olivander's gaze narrowed, and a peculiar smile curved his lips. From the depths of his shelves, he produced one final wand—an Elderwood wand, just like the previous one, but with a core that made it unique: a phoenix feather.

"This wand, my young wizard, is a paradox," Olivander declared, his voice carrying a mixture of intrigue and reverence. "An Elderwood wand, known to follow only the mightiest empowering them beyond any other wand but only loyal till the defeat of its master, paired with a phoenix feather core, the most wilful and picky of cores. It will never waver in its loyalty once it chooses its bearer but compared to the elder wood which only strictly empowers its wielder, the phoenix core is capable of magic on its own."

As Ethan reached out to grasp the wand, a surge of electricity crackled through his fingertips, coursing through his entire being. Instead of the expected jolt of pain, it felt invigorating, as if he were being enveloped in a warm embrace of power and possibility. A small spark danced at the tip of the wand, a vibrant display of magic.

Olivander's eyes sparkled with delight, a twinkle of satisfaction dancing in his weathered gaze. His lips curled into a knowing smile as he leaned closer to Mr. Brown, a sense of genuine excitement in his voice.

"Ah, Mr. Brown, we have indeed found your wand," Olivander proclaimed, his tone brimming with certainty. "It is a wand that embraces the very paradox that resides within you, a true testament to your exceptional nature."

Olivander's hands trembled with a mixture of reverence and eagerness as he carefully took the wand back and placed it carefully in a wandbox on a velvet pillow, before gently handing the box in Mr. Brown's outstretched palm.

"A wand chooses its wielder, Mr. Brown," Olivander continued, his voice a soft murmur of wisdom. "And just as this wand is unique and extraordinary, so too are you. I have no doubt that your journey will be filled with extraordinary achievements, a testament to the magical power that lies within your very core."

Author Note:

I hope you enjoyed the chapter.

As you may have noticed despide his tragic background, the hero gets all the usual fancy stuff we know from fanfictions. So a special wand, extra attention from teachers etc.

I still hope that i have written it a bit entertaining.