INCEPTION.

Chapter One - Dumbledore's Visit.

July 29th, 1993

I watched my mother rummage around the kitchen aimlessly while mumbling incoherencies to herself as she opened and shut all the cabinets and drawers— trying her very best not to ruin the baked good she was preparing.

As for myself, I couldn't fathom being able to move a muscle from our living room couch.

I glanced down at the opened letter in my trembling hand, clutching it tightly yet staring at it blankly. I must've reread it for the billionth time since I first spotted it in yesterday's mail since I already had it memorized by heart.

Ms. (Y/L/N),

I believe it is time we've met.

I plan to visit tomorrow at nightfall. We have quite the conversation ahead of us.

I look forward to meeting you.

My very best wishes,

Albus Dumbledore.
Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

My eyes flickered up to the opened window that held the tedious view of the neighborhood. The skies were turning purple and hazy, which made my stomach drop even further.

He would be here soon.

The importance that Dumbledore's name held was so vast that it was known all the way here in America.

Being the Headmaster of Hogwarts was nothing insignificant and attending Hogwarts was something I fantasized about ever since I first found out about it.

So much so, that when I was five, I had a big tantrum when I found out I couldn't go. The house shook as dishes shattered and broke to smithereens and the toe-curling screeches that I let out broke all the mirrors in the house. I had my mom regretting the day that she didn't give birth to me in the United Kingdom herself.

Nonetheless, Dumbledore's letter was so incredibly ominous and no matter how many times mom and I read and reread it, we couldn't come to an agreement as to why he would be visiting us.

Mom suggested the obvious but I refuse to accept it. I'd hate to get my hopes up tonight for nothing.

I later suggested that maybe this was a courtesy visit he made to every young witch and wizard in America but mom pointed out that if it was just that, he'd simply send a letter of acknowledgment and wouldn't bother making the long trip.

Speaking of, his method of arrival was also a big mystery to us— so we woke up early in the morning after a sleepless night and cleaned the whole house in case of Apparition.

Tension suffocated the entire house and just as the timer on the electric stove oven dinged, an enormous thump was heard in the second level of our apartment that had me sprinting up the stairs after sharing a brief look of panic with my mom.

I curiously poked my head inside every room, noticing nothing out of the ordinary until I got to my bedroom.

As I opened the door, the first thing I saw was the stature of a man that could be mistaken for none other but Albus Dumbledore.

He looked identical to the few pictures I'd seen of him. Six feet and four inches tall. Long, silvery-white hair with a matching beard that looked long enough to tuck into his belt. He was thin and his wrinkled skin revealed that he was old as dirt but his twinkling blue eyes seemed to have endured from his youth.

"Ah, Miss (Y/L/N)! I seem to have apparated myself into your bedroom rather than the living room. I do beg your pardon." Dumbledore spoke in a calm and gentle tone. He bowed his head, smiling at me kindly through his half-moon glasses.