A small, three-story building stood near the village of Ottery St. Catchpole. Inside, eleven-year-old Kyle Chopper was standing by the window, staring intently at the parchment in his hands.
Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore (Order of Merlin, First Class, Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, President of the International Confederation of Wizards)
Dear Mr. Chopper,
We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. A list of required books and items is enclosed. Term begins on September 1st. We look forward to receiving your owl by no later than July 31st.
Yours sincerely,
Minerva McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress
It was an acceptance letter from Hogwarts.
Kyle had been waiting for this moment ever since his transmigration eleven years ago. Why had he been so sure? It was simple: several notable magical families lived nearby, confirming his suspicions about the world he had been reborn into.
Among them was the Lovegood family, where the editor-in-chief of The Quibbler lived. He frequently argued against the school's policies. Then there were the Weasleys—a family with an impossibly strange house and a lot of redheads, immediately cementing this world's identity for Kyle.
Moreover, the fact that he lived in this area also confirmed that Kyle, in this life, came from a wizarding family. His father, Chris, worked at the Ministry of Magic as the Deputy Director of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, specifically heading the Beast Division. With a family talent for communicating with magical creatures, Chris was also a famous magizoologist and one of the few students of Newt Scamander.
Kyle's mother, Diana, worked at the Ministry too, but in the Department of Mysteries. He didn't know exactly what she did there—his attempts to find out had all failed. His parents were excellent at keeping secrets, never revealing a single detail.
As for his family's social standing... it was, well, mediocre. They had no famous ancestors or prestigious history, nothing compared to names like Dumbledore or Grindelwald. But even so, Kyle was more than satisfied. At least both his parents were wizards, and he was sure to attend Hogwarts. Unless, of course, he turned out to be a Squib.
But that concern had been laid to rest when his first bout of accidental magic occurred at age three.
Still, even though Kyle had known this day would come, he nearly jumped out of his skin when the owl pecked at his window with the letter in its beak. He had been clutching the parchment like a precious treasure ever since, even sleeping with it and rereading it obsessively.
...
"Honey, you've been staring at that letter for three days now. Can you put it down? I promise you, it's real!" Chris said, looking at his grinning son with a hint of exasperation. "Don't forget, we're meeting the Weasleys today to go to Diagon Alley. Don't keep them waiting."
"Okay, Dad, I'm coming!" Kyle replied, quickly tucking the Hogwarts acceptance letter away—though not without one last glance—before jumping to his feet. He rapped a knuckle on a nearby stake and called out, "Groot, I'm heading out!"
At his words, a small green Bowtruckle leaped out and waved goodbye to him.
The Chopper family didn't have many magical creatures—only Groot and a Kneazle named Tom. Despite his role at the Ministry, Chris didn't keep large numbers of magical creatures. Even Groot and Tom had only stayed because they refused to leave.
It wasn't that Chris disliked magical creatures—far from it. He just believed they shouldn't be kept by witches and wizards unless they were truly pets. This belief was firm, even though Chris was known as a gentle, agreeable man at the Ministry. Newt Scamander had the same view, always advocating that magical creatures belonged in the wild.
In fact, Kyle had met Newt Scamander several times, and he noticed something interesting about the legendary magizoologist. Magical creatures seemed to flock to him.
Kyle remembered clearly the day he had witnessed a Diricawl, a bird known for its natural camouflage and flighty nature, diving headfirst into Newt's arms. It was absurd, considering that Diricawls usually kept their distance from humans.
Over the years, Kyle had encountered magical creatures around Newt time and again—Salamanders, injured Unicorns, even a Fire Crab that had narrowly escaped being used in potion-making.
Some creatures were smuggled into Britain and escaped, while others seemed to find Newt by sheer coincidence. They appeared by his side in the most unbelievable ways, and Newt's peculiar bond with magical creatures was undeniable.
This talent had earned Newt a blacklist from many Ministries of Magic, since injured or protective magical creatures were prone to sudden, dangerous outbursts. Just imagine sipping afternoon tea when a wild Manticore or Nundu suddenly lunged at you! It was enough to make anyone sweat.
Why would dark wizards like Voldemort bother causing havoc when Newt could do it simply by taking a holiday? Kyle thought with a grin. Newt didn't even need to lift a finger.
It was a wonder that Tina, Newt's wife, had managed to "seal" him away at home. The entire wizarding world probably owed her a First-Class Order of Merlin for that.
Still, Newt's presence had undoubtedly made life hectic for the Ministry's Magical Creature division. Smugglers had turned the British wizarding world into their favorite marketplace. Even so, most incidents remained minor, with only a few wizards suffering injuries over the years. It seemed that Newt's residence added an odd sort of protective charm to the area.
But Chris wasn't as lucky. His job often meant working overtime, yet Kyle could tell his father secretly enjoyed it.
...
As Kyle headed for the door, he noticed his mother, Diana, had come home early from work. She was smiling at him, her long black hair impeccably styled, and her elegant black robes with white trim accentuated her dignified appearance. Her light blue eyes glowed with affection as she looked at Kyle.
Elegant and intellectual, Kyle thought, admiring his mother as always. Then he glanced at his father—Well, he's handsome enough, he mused, noting how the two made a good pair. Most importantly, Chris wasn't balding yet, which put him ahead of Mr. Weasley in the looks department.
With such strong genes, it was no surprise that Kyle had turned out well, too. In fact, among his peers, he was considered quite striking, though he hardly paid it any mind. Looks weren't something he cared about.
"Sorry I'm late," Kyle said as he joined his parents by the door.
"If you had put the letter down earlier, maybe you wouldn't have been, Hogwarts isn't going to leave the United Kingdom just because you let go of the letter," Chris joked, grinning at his own remark.
Kyle didn't quite get the joke, but he offered his father a polite smile for his effort.
"Alright, let's go. We've got a lot to buy, and we shouldn't keep the Weasleys waiting," Diana said, ending the awkward exchange as she gently took Kyle's hand. With a loud pop, she Disapparated, taking Kyle with her.
Seeing them vanish, Chris quickly followed suit.
-------
The Leaky Cauldron, established in the early 16th century, is a favorite haunt of witches and wizards. It also serves as the entrance to Diagon Alley, the only magical street in the wizarding world.
As Diana led Kyle through the door, the previously bustling bar fell silent, as if someone had hit the pause button. The sudden quiet was as eerie as a late-night study session before a final exam.
The strange atmosphere lingered until Chris followed them inside. Even then, the room didn't return to its usual energy, with everyone seemingly keeping their voices intentionally low.
There was, however, one exception.
The bar owner, Tom, approached with a look of surprise. "Diana! Long time no see. Fancy a drink? It's on me."
"Maybe next time, Tom," Diana replied with a smile. She patted Kyle on the shoulder and pointed towards the Weasley family, who were approaching. "We need to head to Diagon Alley to buy a few things, so we're a bit pressed for time."
"Oh, of course," Tom said, realizing the situation. "Time flies, doesn't it? Kyle's already eleven, so you're here for his Hogwarts supplies?"
"Yes," Diana confirmed with a smile.
"You're cutting it close! Better get going, you know where to head." Tom stepped aside to let Kyle pass but then glanced down at him, adding with a playful sternness, "And Kyle, if you mess with that bin again, I'll be writing a letter of complaint to Hogwarts. By Merlin's beard! Do you know how frantic the new students get when they can't find their way into Diagon Alley? Don't make an old man with bad legs do unnecessary work!"
Kyle felt a little embarrassed being called out like this. Clearly, this wasn't his first time in Diagon Alley. But honestly, what kind of transmigrator would he be if he didn't mess with a few things now and then? Moving the trash cans was practically a rite of passage.
Still, with his parents around, he couldn't admit that, so he just grinned awkwardly. "Promise I won't do it again."
Tom waved it off, not too bothered, but Diana raised her eyebrows, casting a thoughtful look at her son. Her intuition told her something was off about that promise, but with the Weasley family now arriving, she let it go.
"Oh, Kyle, dear!" Mrs. Molly Weasley greeted him with a warm hug, then pulled Diana aside for a chat.
Meanwhile, Mr. Weasley made his way over to Chris, immediately striking up a conversation.
The two families were close. Diana and Molly were best friends, able to talk about anything, and Chris and Arthur had also developed a strong bond. After Kyle was born, they had even moved in with the Weasleys for a while, accepting their generous invitation. Kyle had heard the adults mention these things many times during meals.
Because of the friendship between their parents, Kyle naturally became friends with the Weasley children as well.
As soon as the adults wandered off, Kyle felt two arms drape across his shoulders—one on each side.
"Hey, Fred, look who it is," said George with a grin.
"Aren't you Hogwarts' newest student this year?" Fred chimed in, drawing out the word "new."
"Hogwarts can be pretty dangerous, especially for a newbie like you," George continued with mock concern.
"Of course, if you're nice to us, we might be able to help you out," Fred added with a wink.
Kyle rolled his eyes at their antics but ignored them, greeting the other Weasley children instead. "Long time no see, Percy, Ron, Ginny."
They each smiled warmly and nodded back.
"Long time no see, Kyle," the trio said in unison.
The Weasley family had seven children in total, but today only five were present. Bill was off in Egypt, and Charlie had left a month ago for parts unknown.
As the group chatted, they made their way to the back courtyard of the Leaky Cauldron, the entrance to Diagon Alley. Mr. Weasley, leading the way, quickly located the correct brick and tapped it with his wand.
Meanwhile, at the back of the group, Fred and George exchanged knowing glances. They'd been waiting for Kyle to respond to their teasing but, seeing that he hadn't, they silently decided to teach the impolite first-year a lesson.
In their pockets was the latest creation from their mischief-making minds: a special powder that, when sprinkled lightly in someone's hair, could produce an unbelievable level of grease. It was as if you hadn't washed your hair in ten days—truly a marvel of grossness.
The twins had tested it on themselves and the results had been spectacular. If things went well, they might even unlock a hidden bonus effect, giving Kyle a glimpse of what middle-aged wizards often had to deal with.
Grinning, they carefully took out the powder, ready to strike. But just as they were about to put their plan into action, Chris's voice came from ahead.
"Hagrid? What are you doing in Diagon Alley?"
Chris's voice, usually calm, now carried a sharp note of alarm that instantly caught the attention of the twins. They had heard that tone far too often not to react instinctively. Something was up.
"It's nothing, really," Hagrid stammered. The three-meter-tall, two-meter-wide half-Giant actually shivered slightly when he spotted Chris. His eyes darted nervously for a moment. But then, as if he'd suddenly remembered something, he visibly relaxed and pulled out a small package from his coat pocket. "I, uh, I'm just here buyin' some berry seeds. Harry Potter's goin' to Hogwarts next year, and I thought I'd bake 'im a birthday cake. Wanted it to be special."
"Really?" Chris's voice didn't soften, his eyes narrowing at the small package. "If I recall correctly, the Hogwarts kitchen has enough ingredients to make ten cakes. Why the extra seeds?"
Chris's tone was sharp, almost accusatory. To an outsider, he might have appeared hostile, the sort of man you'd mistake for a villain in the wrong setting. But Kyle, the twins, and even the Weasleys—all of whom were on good terms with Hagrid—watched silently, their expressions unchanged. This was just how things were.
And indeed, it was. As the deputy director of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, and head of the Beast Division, Chris had seen Hagrid's antics far too many times to count.
In fact, if Chris had to name the one person who caused him the most headaches, it would undoubtedly be Rubeus Hagrid, the beloved yet notorious Keeper of Keys and Grounds at Hogwarts.
The man was an endless source of work for him. Hagrid's obsession with magical creatures—especially cross-breeding them—drove Chris mad. Just last month, he'd had to deal with the aftermath of one of Hagrid's creations: a Runespoor hybrid, a two-tailed snake that Hagrid had somehow bred by crossing a Crup with a Runespoor.
Merlin knows where Hagrid even finds these creatures. Chris had been a student at Hogwarts, and he certainly didn't remember any Runespoors in the Forbidden Forest. It wasn't like you could just stumble upon one there.
As a traditional Magizoologist, Chris considered such hybrid creations unnatural, even heretical. In his eyes, these sorts of magical experiments were dangerous and should be banned. He had tried to pass legislation several times to regulate these kinds of activities, but the Ministry never took him seriously. After Cornelius Fudge became Minister of Magic, Chris had even visited his office to push for change, only to be met with delays and empty promises. Fudge clearly didn't see magical creatures as a priority, preferring to focus on maintaining good relations with the more powerful wizards at Hogwarts.
Because of this, Chris's hands were tied. He couldn't stop Hagrid from creating these magical hybrids, no matter how reckless they were. Instead, he was left to clean up the mess, recording, categorizing, and monitoring Hagrid's creations. Over time, Chris had built up a considerable amount of frustration and resentment toward Hagrid. The only reason he didn't confront him outright—perhaps even physically—was because children were present.
And make no mistake, Chris could handle himself. Despite his bureaucratic role, he spent much of his time in the field dealing with dangerous magical creatures. He wasn't worried about taking on a half-Giant, especially one like Hagrid, who didn't have his wand.
Hagrid, knowing he was on thin ice, hurriedly opened the package to reveal nothing but a handful of seeds. "By Dumbledore's name, I swear, I only came to Diagon Alley to buy these seeds."
Chris, hearing the name of the revered headmaster, visibly relaxed. He trusted Hagrid's respect for Dumbledore and knew the half-Giant wouldn't lie about something so trivial. After a moment, Chris offered a few quick instructions, then let him go without further questioning.
Kyle, meanwhile, watched Hagrid's retreating figure thoughtfully. "Not this time," he muttered to himself. "But what about all the other times?"
Kyle remembered well that in the first film, Hagrid had bought a Three-Headed Dog—Fluffy—from a mysterious Greek in a bar.
Was it the Pig's Head? Or perhaps the Leaky Cauldron? He wasn't sure. But what he did know was that the Leaky Cauldron, for all its respectability, wasn't exactly clean. A lot of grey-market deals happened here, especially since it was the only place that provided accommodations without checking IDs. Many smugglers with small, easily hidden items would choose to stay at the Cauldron, conducting their business in plain sight.
And it was no secret among the magical underworld that Hogwarts had a gamekeeper with a deep passion for magical creatures. It wouldn't be hard for someone like Hagrid to acquire rare and dangerous beasts.
"Tsk, who said Hagrid's simple-minded?" Kyle mused. "The guy's got more going on than people realize."
Kyle suspected his father, Chris, didn't know about all of Hagrid's dealings yet. But Kyle had no intention of ratting him out. After all, who wouldn't want to own a Three-Headed Dog?
-------
After careful consideration, Kyle decided it was best to play a trick on the twins and keep the news about the Three-Headed Dog to himself.
Who said he didn't have a fondness for magical creatures? Sure, he wasn't Newt Scamander and didn't have that unique touch, but creatures like the Three-Headed Dog were rare, even in Greece. If he missed this opportunity, it would be hard to see one again. All things considered, it was better to have some fun with Fred and George.
But to ease his conscience, Kyle slipped out of the twins' hold as quickly as possible and gave Chris an apologetic look. Chris, understandably, was baffled. One of the twins had the same confused expression.
They had been just about to carry out their plan—sprinkling some confetti-like powder over Kyle's head for a little mischief—but Kyle ducked and ran at the last second. Unfortunately for the twins, they had already thrown the confetti! It could have happened a second earlier or later, but of course, it landed at the worst possible moment.
The twins stood there, dumbfounded, watching the confetti make a perfect arc through the air—only to fall on the other twin's head.
"Shh..."
Suddenly, both Fred and George were furiously scratching their heads like agitated baboons. Their already messy hair became even wilder, a true bird's nest of confetti and chaos. Honestly, even the Sorting Hat looked more dignified at this point.
"Oh, Fred, George, what are you up to now!" Mrs. Weasley's voice rang out, clearly embarrassed as more people began to stare at the scene. Her cheeks flushed, and she marched over to the twins, grabbing each of them by the ear and dragging them away, her face red with both anger and humiliation.
At least in the alley, away from the main street of Diagon Alley, fewer people could see them. On the main road, it had been mortifying—her sons imitating baboons in front of everyone.
"By Merlin's beard!" she muttered under her breath. 'If this keeps up, the Weasley family's reputation will be ruined! Ruined!'
Her actions were swift, and the twins, though grinning at first, were soon breathing heavily, their earlier bravado crushed. Kyle swore he saw tears welling up in their eyes, and if that was true, he could only marvel at how alike they were—even their tears appeared in the same spots.
On the other side, as Mrs. Weasley escorted the twins away, Mr. Weasley looked visibly relieved. He hid his embarrassment with great difficulty, urging the rest of the group to move ahead and start their shopping without waiting for the twins.
At the back of the group, Kyle had positioned himself beside Ron, struggling to suppress his laughter. However, the moment he looked up and caught his mother's gaze, his whole body tensed. He forced a grin, an awkward and polite smile plastered on his face.
Diana had an uncanny sixth sense—nothing ever escaped her notice. Since childhood, Kyle had learned that he could hardly ever get away with anything. His only saving grace with his transmigration secret was that she hadn't given birth to him for five or six months after he arrived in this world. If not for that, he was convinced his secret would've been discovered long ago.
Really… Kyle scratched his head, thinking to himself. With a mother like this, there's no such thing as privacy.
Diana, sensing his guilt, didn't say a word but gave him a warning look before turning her attention elsewhere. It wasn't all that serious—Mrs. Weasley was just overly worried.
Fred and George's antics were notorious at Hogwarts, and word of their exploits had spread through the wizarding world, even reaching Diana's ears. She had heard stories of exploding toilet seats, sneaking a sack over Mrs Norris during a nighttime stroll, and throwing rotten eggs under Slytherin freshmen's seats, accusing them of having accidents in class. Compared to all that, imitating baboons in the street seemed minor.
People who witnessed the scene would probably just laugh it off. There was no real threat to the Weasley family's reputation—unless you asked a certain pureblood with long blonde hair, but he wouldn't be named here.
Mrs. Weasley's strong reaction came from her not yet being accustomed to the twins' troublemaking. After all, Bill, Charlie, and even Percy had been outstanding students, and in her mind, she still saw Fred and George through that lens. She couldn't quite reconcile their behavior with the image of her older children.
Granted, Bill and Charlie hadn't been entirely well-behaved at home or in their early school days, but no one could deny that they were top students at Hogwarts. For Mrs. Weasley, it was as if she couldn't let go of the expectation that Fred and George would follow in their older brothers' footsteps.
To put it in perspective, imagine the prim and proper Percy suddenly imitating a baboon in the street. That would give anyone pause.
But this phase wouldn't last forever. Give it a year or two, and after more news about the twins' escapades from Hogwarts, Mrs. Weasley would grow accustomed to their ways. And, in time, she'd learn to handle their antics with far more composure.
...
Not long after the little episode with the twins, the group split up. Since Ron and Ginny were not yet old enough to attend Hogwarts, the Weasleys only needed to buy schoolbooks for Fred, George, and Percy. However, as a new student, Kyle had a long list of supplies to get, with the most important item being his wand.
Kyle didn't need directions—he knew Diagon Alley like the back of his hand. Before long, he reached his destination: the small, slightly run-down shop.
Ollivanders Wand Shop: Expertly crafted wands since 382 BC.
Kyle stood in the doorway, a bit speechless, as he always was when he visited the place. The shop looked so neglected, with thick layers of dust on the windows. You could practically scrape the grime off and mold it into a sculpture right outside the door. Did wizards have a preference for old, worn-out things?
Gringotts and the Flying Broomstick Shop both look clean and well-maintained, Kyle thought. But this place...
Then again, Ollivanders was the most renowned wand shop in the wizarding world, and maybe that was part of the charm—exclusivity wrapped in mystery and age. Perhaps looking ancient is just part of the magic of being an elite shop, he mused. But Gringotts, also an exclusive business, didn't look like it was falling apart. He had wondered about this for a long time, even asking Chris and Mr. Weasley in the past, but neither had given him a clear answer.
Standing there now, Kyle could only shrug, deciding to chalk it up to the eccentricity of a master craftsman. After all, Ollivander's reputation was unparalleled, and it was important to maintain good relations. Asking why his shop was so rundown might offend the legendary wandmaker. That was a conversation best left untouched.
However, Kyle did consider a different option: since Ron would be starting school next year, he could discuss it with Fred and George and see if they'd be willing to poke around for an answer.
Don't say I'm cheating my friends, Kyle thought, smirking to himself. I'm cheating Ron Weasley. What does that have to do with his beloved family and friends—It's only Fred and George's younger brother Ronald Weasley asking.