Beginners: book 1, Goblet of Fire

Off to England

A few weeks later, the apartment is packed up. It's weird to see just how much we own, that is until Dad puts all the boxes into a suitcase with an enlargement charm on it. We make our way to MACUSA, cross-oceanic travel requires strong portkeys, ones only they can create, and the consent of both countries. I step out of the fireplace into the brightly light hall, dad coming out behind me. "Travel is this way," he says, steering me towards a large office, packed with wizards and witches carrying luggage.

"Ah, Phineas, 12 o'clock to the ministry?" The witch at the desk says. She peers at me through her horned glasses, "And this must be your daughter, nice to meet'chya, honey." She slides two pieces of paper across the counter, "Alright, room 4, to the right, we really are going to miss you here Phineas."

With that, we take our bags and head to the door numbered 4. Inside, sits a pizza box. 'Very NYC' I think to myself, chuckling. There are other people in the room, a couple and an old man. We all make pleasantries, eye contact, smiles and grab onto the box. Suddenly there's a lurch behind my belly button and I'm spinning. We land, shakingly, in a room at the Ministry. I've been here before, but not for a while. The eerie green brick sends a shiver down my spine. Why would they build it like this, so ominous? I think, as dad collects himself and we all head our separate ways.

"Now, we just need to find a portkey to Cottenham." Dad had never been there before and therefore couldn't apparate. The owner also did not know we were wizards, so it would be a shock to pop out of the fireplace. Dad leads me to an elevator, that's packed with wizards and flying paper airplanes. "Inter department communications," he whispers in my ear. We get off at level six, Department of Magical Transportation, according to the detached voice that sounds through the elevator on each floor.

"Portkeys must be around here somewhere," we begin walking down a long hallway, past countless offices until we get to one labelled 'Portkeys.' The room is filled with other wizards, some are standing in line, most likely arranging portkeys, while others stand at a large board. It spans the whole wall and is covered in changing plaques, each with a time and location, an one end there are towns and cities all across the UK, that also change periodically. He waits until one switches to Cottenham, "Buggar! We've just missed one, next leaves from," he squints and pushes his way to the front of the pack, "Exchange Circuit, an old hat, at 2, we could grab some lunch?"

"Sure," I say, turning to leave the overwhelming space. I follow behind him up through the ministry, and out onto the London street. He smiles and looks around, this is his home after all. I take it in, and memories come flooding back. The streets and sounds and even scent reminds me of my childhood.

"Here, let's get a cup of coffee," he takes us down a street and to a tiny café, we sit on the patio with coffee and tea, chatting. He does most of the talking, reminiscing about our past. I watch his eyes twinkle when mom came up. The hour flew by easily, with the people bustling by, and seeing dad so happy. Even as we walk to the portkey he's smiling and pointing out spots, 'mum and I had an amazing night at that bar', 'that used to be a restaurant, our favourite.' We walk to a small alley, where we look for the portkey. No one else is there, not a shock for mid-day on a Monday, but it makes finding it harder.

I started getting worried when dad called from behind a dumpster; "Here it is! Dirty old thing, get a hold on." He checks his watch as I grab the brim, "Five, four, three, two-" there's another jolt behind my belly button and we're off again.

We land in a pasture, with fields surrounding us. In the distance, I can see a small town, some houses scattered between us and them. "Bit of a walk can't be too careful," dad says, starting down the road. We walk for some time, eventually arriving at the town, which is larger than it appears. He seems to know his way quite well and leads us to a small cottage on a side road. Its made of brick, with ivy beginning to trail up the sides, there's a small shed and yard, you can see the expansive farmland from here, with even some hills.