Harry Potter and the Rogue Mage

Chapter 2 - A School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

Rowan's feet barely touched the grassy pathway as he floated quickly through the mist towards the lights in the distance. His suitcase was gripped firmly in one hand, and in the other he held a long, perfectly straight staff of dark wood, inlaid with metal strips to reinforce it along its entire length. Behind him, his long, dark coat flapped freely, the thin fingers of mist snatching at him as he flew past, and the chill air around him was punctuated by the distant calls of birds and the rustle of the forest around him. Rowan blinked the tears from his eyes as the chill air burned his face, and sniffed heavily as the pathway in front of him began to grow more evident through the fog. He sped up, pushing against the air around him with his magic as he flew through the mist, and before long, he spotted a long, high iron fence in front of him. Quickly, Rowan pushed forwards, and with a swirl of mist and wind, he slowed to a stop, touching back down gently onto the grassy floor, and squinting up through the darkness at the top of the fence. Gingerly, Rowan poked at the fence with the tip of his staff, and he felt a slight force push back against the staff in his hand as the protective spells of Hogwarts refused to yield. With a smile, Rowan shifted his grip on his staff with one hand, gripping it firmly by the end and raising it above his head as he moved a few paces back from the fence. Inhaling deeply, Rowan pushed the breath to the tips of his fingers, hesitating just long enough for the warm power of his magic to swell into life inside his chest and arms, before with a single, swift movement, he stepped forwards and brought his staff down fast in a diagonal slice across his body. With a undulating wobble, the translucent barrier in front of the fence wavered then split, the cut following the arc of Rowan's staff, stretching from about twenty feet in the air to the ground. Quickly, Rowan bent his knees and set his feet in the ground, before with a loud BOOM, he shot forwards and upwards with explosive speed, the force of his launch rippling outwards through the grass as he flew through the tear in the barrier. Rowan sailed through the air, adrenaline surging through his veins as he reached the top of his arc, then fell back to earth, landing solidly on the the grass with a faint thump. Glancing back, Rowan watched the thin, translucent membrane of magic re-seaming itself, the edges of his cut melting back together and fading from view. With a grin, he straightened up, took a deep breath, then set off towards the castle, his staff thumping rhythmically at his side.

Hogwarts sat soundly atop a large mountain, overlooking a large, black lake. Dozens of towers and turrets stretched towards the sky like grasping fingers, and hundreds of tiny windows glittered in its walls. The path up to the castle was long, but not particularly steep, and Rowan only cheated slightly while ascending it; using the wind again to lift himself from the ground and pull himself up the path, like a strange, oddly-shaped balloon. However, he reached the doors of the castle without issue, and touched back down gently just as the sound of muted applause floated through the air towards him from one of the windows. It was the first of September, he conceded, so this was probably an entrance ceremony or assembly of some sort. No matter. He would wait outside until Dumbledore was unoccupied. 

As this thought entered his mind, however, there was a loud creak from next to him, and the huge doors of the castle began to swing open. Rowan turned, watching the doors swing laboriously open, then a slight movement at the corner of his eye caught his attention. A thin, rather raggedy man with long, untidy hair was limping quickly towards Rowan, wheezing in what appeared to be annoyance. Rowan walked forwards to meet him, curious as to whom this stranger could be, and stopped when the man did. 

'About bloody time!' The man wheezed in a harsh, raspy voice, bent double as he panted for breath. 'You Rowan?'

'Yes.' Rowan replied, looking at the man in some alarm as he coughed, before straightening up and beginning to limp back the way he had come, gesturing for Rowan to follow him.

'Been waiting half a bloody hour for you. Dumbledore said you'd arrive sometime during the sorting, but you're halfway through the staff announcements now.' The man hobbled up the  stone steps, heading into the castle, but Rowan hesitated slightly as he reached them. The air was thick with magic here. He could smell it. Feel it on his skin. He felt almost as if the magic might swirl around him like oil and water if he stepped into it. This was wizard's ground.

'Come on!' The raggedy man rasped impatiently, edging further away from Rowan into the entrance hall, and after a moment more, Rowan followed him up the stairs. The entrance hall which they stepped into was immense. The marble staircase like a waterfall of stone before them, and Rowan found himself rather unnerved. Torches crackled in brackets around the walls, but above them, dozens of stone staircases interlaces their way upwards into the upper floors of the school. Rowan could feel the magic there too, but it was more the intricacy of the building that made him uneasy. Mages were not accustomed to grand architecture. It made for more hiding places for unpleasant creatures, and while Mages suffered from many sins, vanity and arrogance were not among them. Buildings like these seemed quite unnecessary, even in a modern age such as this, when a simple tent or log cabin could provide shelter and lodging. 

'Give me that.' Rowan was brought back to his senses as the caretaker wrested his suitcase out of his hand, and stepped back slightly as he held out his hand for Rowan's staff.

'I don't think so.' He said firmly. 

'You can't go in there with that.' The caretaker told him warningly. 

'Until I know what I'm getting into, this stays with me.' Rowan replied firmly. 'You wouldn't try to deprive one of your wizards of their wands, would you?' The caretaker glowered darkly at him, but allowed Rowan to keep his staff, placing his suitcase at the foot of the marble staircase before leading him to another set of large, ornate doors, behind which he heard a rather high voice, a woman's, giving a rather muffled speech.

'Wait here.' The caretaker told Rowan, before pushing open the doors and slipping through. Behind him, Rowan caught a glimpse of a large, brightly-lit hall which was packed with people in black robes, sat alongside several large, long tables. Briefly, Rowan caught a few words of the speech the woman was making, and he frowned slightly at the high-pitched, patronizing tone she spoke in.

'...some changes will be for the better, while others will come, in the fullness of time, to be recognized as errors of judgement. Meanwhile...'

The huge doors swung shut again with a loud thud, and Rowan waited patiently for the caretaker to return. He had taken a risk with the wand comment. In actuality, his staff served him little purpose, but Rowan felt reassured to have it with him, as it served as a good foundation to lay magic on during combat. On the other hand, he was a Mage. He knew nearly nothing about wizarding society other than a few encounters he'd had over the years. For all he knew, it was routine for wizards to hand over their wands when entering a communal area, but then again... he was no wizard. 

Rowan straightened slightly as the door creaked open again, and the caretaker emerged panting from the gap as the sound of smattered applause floated over his head.

'You're allowed to come in.' He wheezed. Rowan's heart jumped.

'What, now?'

'Now! Yes, now!' The caretaker motioned impatiently towards the hall, and Rowan took a deep breath. Forget "walking into the belly of the beast," this was more along the lines of "sticking your head in the lion's mouth." 

'Where do I need to go?' Rowan asked as he approached the doors, but the caretaker had already pushed the doors wide open, and the entirety of the Great Hall was laid bare to the stunned Mage.