Harry Potter 1. Author's Note

Stewart Ackerly  
A Different Take on Hogwarts

by S. Thomas

_A story of an adolescent, muggle-born wizard who comes to Hogwarts School of and Wizardry seeking answers to his questions but finds faith, hope, and a purpose unbeknownst to all._

Disclaimer: All elements of the story you recognize from the Harry Potter books and/or movies are copyrighted by J.K. Rowling, Scholastic Press, Bloomsbury Books, and/or Warner Brothers, Inc. I am merely a _fan_ of the truly witty Ms. Rowling and am using her brilliant masterpieces as a crutch for my own imaginative tale. No copyright infringement is intended, implied, or induced.

I further apologize to any authors of fan fiction on the Fiction Alley, , and Portkey networks from whom I have unintentionally stolen ideas. Please let me know if this is the case and I will change it immediately – I have read so many that sometimes I tend to think an idea I've read is my own.

A Word from the Author  
J.K. Rowling's Magic

I feel that before I begin it may be necessary to explain why I am basing my story off of Ms. Rowling's works, as this could quite easily be a stand-alone piece merely in the same genre. Firstly, and quite importantly, this is my first novel; I have never so much as written a short story of my own accord, and would have no clue where to begin were it not for Ms. Rowling's basic outline of a small, believing child traveling to the mysterious Hogwarts School of and Wizardry where he finally belonged, and where he could achieve such mythical powers of which he had only ever dreamed, yet _knew_ existed.

The capability of a tiny child holding so much unforeseen power seeming to come from little more than a twig is clearly impossible, but it is the belief of the child in himself, fostered by the great Albus Dumbledore, which portrays the magic of Harry Potter to common boys and girls across the globe. At age eleven, the same age as Harry Potter in the fictional world created by the magnificent J.K. Rowling, I first experienced the true magic of Harry Potter – not that of swishing wands and billowing robes, but magic to hold a child's attention through the laughing and gasping, as Harry, a perfectly ordinary boy, boarded Platform Nine and Three-Quarters and headed off to Hogwarts School of and Wizardry where his drab, unforgiving life would change forever.

As I read the first book, I was mystified along with Harry as he was mistreated by his Aunt and Uncle, whisked away by the formidable Hagrid, bought his "very curious" wand, and ogled over a broomstick. My fingers could barely keep up as I turned page after mesmerizing page. Soon, the three-hundred-page novel was over (the longest one I'd ever read, by the way), but my hunger for Rowling's magic was far from satisfied, so I tore through the second one as well, sorrowing after the plight of the victims, kept on the edge of my seat as Harry descended into the Chamber of Secrets, pulling Godric Gryffindor's glimmering sword out of the tattered sorting hat and slaying the basilisk (although I must admit I liked the first better). After this, I waited a few months, and to my great delight a third book was released, and I enjoyed it far greater than the previous two combined, if that was possible. Finally, at twelve I laid my hands on the fourth book – a core chapter of Harry's story, in which one of his classmates died. However, this fourth book, rather than satisfying my hunger for Potter's tale, intensified it!

I would have surely lost it were it not for a good friend of mine who introduced me to the community and especially the Harry Potter section. There, I could read of Harry's adventures as much as I liked. I daresay I have read dozens, if not hundreds, of pieces of fan fiction for Harry Potter, and have felt almost the same as when reading the Harry Potter books when reading the _Draco Dormiens _series, more recently, _Harry Potter and the Prisoners of the Dark Lord, _and _many _others.

After three years of feasting on the works of lesser authors, the great Rowling, remarried with another child, emerged again with _The Order of the Pheonix_, my newest favorite. So, after beginning several times, I finally plan to write, mimicking the sagely J.K. Rowling as I take a different hero through her world. But enough of my rambling, without further ado let the story begin!


	2. Muggles Macabre

Prologue  
Muggles Macabre

There are a fair few people in this world who are so wrapped up in themselves that they can see nothing beyond their own disgraceful noses. They care nothing for the well-being of others, and lead very dignified lives, at least in their own minds, seeing as a nice home, nice job, nice car, nice wife, and nice children is all a man could ever want in life, of course. What does every self-absorbed, pompous London schoolboy dream of except to become an accomplished businessman, banker, doctor, or attorney? We can't really blame them for that, though, because they have simply grown up in such a manner as to be expected to accomplish such "great" things, so I suppose we should blame their fathers. Well, no, we can't really blame them either, for who taught them the meaning of materialism but their fathers, and their grandfathers before that? No, only society is to blame, and if society is to blame, then I suppose it shall never change, now will it (at least in England, that is)? So, in short, those self-absorbed entrepreneurs cannot be blamed – that's simply the way it is.

Mr. Edward Ackerly, VI, esq., was one such person. Educated first in a Cambridge prep-school, then moving on to study at a Cambridge University, and finally finishing at a Cambridge law school, Mr. Ackerly held his head high in court, a well respected individual in society. Moving back home and living at the family manor, Mr. Ackerly received a position as an attorney at Blackwell Sanders, a large, respectable law firm in London at the age of twenty-seven. Three years of perspiration later, Mr. Ackerly made partner, and married a most curious woman, Judith Perkins.

Mrs. Judith Perkins Ackerly was a woman of class, prestige, honor, and, most importantly, wealth. From the moment he set eyes upon her across the ballroom at an eloquent dinner party wearing a shimmering navy dress, black as night, which almost matched her eyes, Edward was smitten. They married, and Judith was soon expecting a baby boy. However, the doctors diagnosed Judith with a chronic disease which would make childbearing very dangerous. Though she had the highest medical care, even the doctors at Barts and The London could not help her, and she died while giving birth to her baby boy, whom she named Stewart just before her death after her father, Piers Stewart Perkins.

Edward was crushed by Judith's death, so crushed that he could not even bear to look into the eyes of his son – those same eyes which had been so mesmerizing on the late Judith, but were purely haunting on little Stewart. Three months later, Edward gave Stewart to a Catholic orphanage, unable to look at those eyes.

Stewart never saw his father again.


	3. Chapter One The Orphanage

fic dot radiihosting dot com - Word Documents of Each Chapter (Better Formatted)

Chapter One  
The Orphanage

July 31, 1994

"Stewart… Stewart wake up! It's visitation day!" whispered James, a boy of about eight. James didn't know his birthday and had been given a Christian name by the nuns, but had a smile that would melt even the toughest prioress' heart. "You want to look your best for the parents, don't you?"

Stewart sat up groggily in bed, still shaking off his sleepiness, then jumped up and started dressing hurriedly, hoping against hope like all of the other children that one of the adults who toured the orphanage would take them, hold them, and love them as their own child.

"I'm ready, Jimmy," Stewart said, still breathing hard. He could not wait to go down for breakfast – he was starving. Taking the stairs three at a time, the boys ran to the kitchens to get that day's breakfast – hearty oatmeal with milk, one of their favorites. Although all of the children were quite thin, whether from lack of snacks, all of their frolicking, or a recent growth spurt, none were sickly. The nuns took very good care of them at St. Francis.

Although it was already light outside, many of the children were still asleep. James rose early, and Stewart usually let James wake him up so they could keep each other company. James and Stewart decided to go outside (not without being forced to wash their faces by Sister Paula) and play a game they had invented themselves, called birdie. It was played with two or three or four people where one person was the birdie, and the others would try to keep the ball from the birdie. If they were successful for a little while, they picked a new birdie, saying that the keepers had won. This was not quite as fun with only two people, so they quickly tired of the game, going inside to wake the other children.

Later in the day, as the prospective adoptive guardians began arriving, each boy and girl was on his or her best behavior. Many of the children were interviewed by a few of the parents, and while some walked away from the interviews with sparkling smiles, others were not so lucky. You see, many parents want a young child, but few are willing to take in any child over five or so.

So, like every year, Stewart was left off by himself, sitting in his secret place, a grove of two trees, forming a low seat to sit on, his hopes and dreams crushed at not being interviewed even once. However, unlike every year, this time he was not only crushed, but also angry.

'_Why me?'_ Stewart thought. '_Why couldn't it have been someone else sitting here, and I with parents to love and cherish me?'_ At this thought, boiling hatred welled up inside Stewart, hatred so strong that it could not easily be ignored, hatred so vile that Stewart could not keep it within himself any longer. It seemed the hatred had a mind of its own, a mind quite foreign to Stewart, a mind which he did not like at all.

Quite suddenly, the hatred released itself. Stewart's tree-seat, seemingly of its own accord, split in two with a thunderous _crack_. Stewart's anger immediately dissipated, and he simply sat in the broken cleft within the tree, somehow knowing that _he _had broken the tree.

Later, Stewart did not know how long he had sat there. He supposed it must have been several hours, because the next thing he knew Sister Paula was calling him for dinner. An air of excited chatter lay over the great hall where over forty orphans ate, though Stewart simply picked at his food meaninglessly. He had concluded that he had some sort of willpower, which, when exercised, could break the laws of physics and perform seemingly impossible tasks, such as breaking a tree trunk in half. The only problem was that he did not have any idea how to control it

That night, when all the other orphans had gone to bed, and the nuns were doing devotionals, Stewart snuck outside, a small bag slung over his shoulder. The cool, crisp midsummer night air fell over him, and Stewart noticed that the night was unusually still, as if expecting great things.

He went back to the place where he had broken the tree, and took out the objects. He had a book of fairy tales (one of his favorites), a small ball, and a flashlight. He found he did not need the flashlight, as the moon and stars provided more than adequate lighting. He set the book down on the ground, laid it open, and concentrated very hard, trying to will the pages into turning. At first, he thought that he had been unsuccessful, but a moment later the pages started turning, first slowly, then rapidly, and the book slapped shut with a _snap_.

Stewart was ecstatic – he had actually madesomething _happen_, however small, with _his_ powers. Taking the ball, he threw it up into the air. Letting his mind relax, he shot unconscious thoughts at the ball, controlling it as if it were an extension of his body. The ball slowed and stopped to hover about a foot above Stewart's head. Stewart tried to move it back up, and he almost succeeded, but it fell to the ground instead. Suddenly, the chants stopped from inside the nuns' chapel, and Stewart scampered up to his bed.

The next morning, Stewart awoke not to Jimmy's voice, but to a tapping noise coming from the window. Looking over, he saw an _owl_. What's more, inside the owl's beak was an envelope! He opened the window, and the owl promptly deposited the envelope on his bed, before flying out the window again. Dumbfounded, Stewart snapped the window shut, and went over to his bed. Looking down, he saw that the letter was titled:

Mr. Stewart Ackerly  
The 2nd bed from the left,  
Boys' Chambers,  
The St. Francis Orphanage,  
London, England

Still very much in shock, he turned it over. Ripping through the seal, he opened the envelope, and began to read:

Hogwarts School

_of_ Witcraft _and_ Wizardry

Headmaster: ALBUS DUMBLEDORE

_(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock,_

_Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)_

Dear Mr. Ackerly,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted  
at Hogwarts School of Witcraft and Wizardry. Please  
find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.

Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no

later than August 6.

Yours sincerely,

_Minerva McGonagall_

Minerva McGonagall,

_Deputy Headmistress_

'_Hogwarts School of Witcraft and Wizardry?' _thought Stewart. '_What sort of school is that? Is this someone's idea of a joke?'_ However, deep inside, he knew it was not a joke. He knew he was a _wizard_ – he had proven it last night!

Looking over the second sheet, he frowned slightly. It read:

Hogwarts School

_of_ Witcraft _and_ Wizardry

UNIFORM  
First-year students will require:

1. Three sets of plain work robes (black)

2.One plain pointed hat (black) for daily wear

3.One pair of protective gloves (dragon hide or similar)

4.One winter cloak (black, silver fastenings)

Please note that all pupils' clothes should carry name tags

COURSE BOOKS  
All students should have a copy of each of the following:

_The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1)  
_by Miranda Goshawk

_A History of Magic _by Bathilda Bagshot

_A Beginners' Guide to Transfiguration _by Emeric Switch

_One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi_  
by Phyllida Spore

_Magical Drafts and Potions _by Arsenius Jigger

_Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them_

by Newt Scamander

_The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection_

by Quentin Trimble

OTHER EQUIPMENT

1 wand

1 cauldron (pewter, standard size 2)

1 telescope

1 set brass scales

Students may also bring an owl OR a cat OR a toad

PARENTS ARE REMINDED THAT FIRST YEARS

ARE NOT ALLOWED THEIR OWN BROOMSTICKS

He had no idea where he was going to buy all of this, and certainly didn't have the money to pay for it. He really didn't have a dime to his name save that which his father had given the orphanage to take care of him.

He wanted to call back that owl and have him deliver a letter. He thought the owl could find Minerva McGonagall and deliver his message. He went over to a desk and carefully wrote out on some loose-leaf notebook paper:

Dear Ms. McGonagall,

Thank you for accepting me at Hogwarts School. I would love to study wizardry, but have never heard of it before. I know I have powers though. I used them last night, and made pages on a book turn and a ball hover in the air.

I don't know how to get to Hogwarts, and I don't have any money to buy the things I need for school. Is it in London? Nobody else I know has powers, so I don't have anyone to talk to about it.

Thank you,  
Stewart Ackerly

He took an envelope out of the drawer, and carefully folded up his letter, placing it gingerly inside, and addressed it to:

Ms. Minerva McGonagall  
Deputy Headmistress  
Hogwarts School of Witcraft and Wizardry

Surely the owl was gone by now, but he could still have a look outside. Popping his head out the window again, the owl glided down from the roof, and perched on the windowsill. Stewart, a little more than startled, handed out his letter to the owl, which took it in its beak and flew away.

Looking at the clock, he saw that it was just after seven. The others would be waking up soon, and he thought about whether or not to tell them. He decided not to, because he was fairly certain that they would either not believe him and think him crazy, or believe him and think he was some type of freak.

He instead decided to go down to the kitchens for breakfast. He found that he was not, as he had believed, the only one awake. A girl of thirteen, named Susan, sat on the far end of the table from Stewart, picking at some truly gross-looking German sausages and French toast. Stewart, sticking to the French toast, sat down a bit removed, across from her. He had never been very friendly with girls at the orphanage, and was at the age when boys would rather touch an inch-long cockroach than come within a foot of a girl. He also didn't know Susan very well, for she went to a boarding school in Scotland, while most everyone else was taught by the nuns.

Taking out his envelope, he again re-read those blessed words, "We are please to inform you that you have been accepted to Hog-".

"So, I see you've gotten your Hogwarts letter! Well done! I was sure this place was 100 Muggle," Susan exclaimed.

Stewart gaped at her. It had never occurred to him that others at the orphanage might attend Hogwarts.

"You go to Hogwarts?" Stewart whispered. He nearly leapt for joy at the thought, but instead thought she might have just been very good at reading upside-down.

"Oh, of course I do, silly," she giggled. "Next year will be my fourth year there."

"So… you're a… a witch?" Stewart asked. "And what's a 'Muggle'?"

"A muggle is just someone who can't do magic, and typically has a low tolerance for it. And yes, I'm a witch. Not a very good one, mind you, but a witch nonetheless."

"Can you show me some magic?" Stewart hurriedly asked.

"Well, I could, except firstly, this is a muggle orphanage and we're not allowed to do magic in front of Muggles," – Stewart was instantly glad he hadn't told anyone – "And secondly we're not allowed to do magic outside of Hogwarts until we're properly trained, of course."

"Oh," Stewart said, deflated. "Well, could you at least tell me what Hogwarts is like?"

"Well, sure," she said. "It might be kind of hard to explain, but I'll do my best. You see, it's a castle up in Scotland, I think, though I can't really be sure, right next to Hogsmeade, the only wizarding village in all Britain."

"There are whole villages made up of witches and wizards?" Stewart exclaimed.

"Of course there are! You didn't think you were the only one, did you? Now, there aren't as many witches and wizards as there are Muggles, but there are still a fair few. There are probably at least five hundred students at Hogwarts, though I'm not sure – it's not like I could count them all! Anyway, Hogwarts is absolutely huge. There's a lake, a forest, great rolling hills, wizarding sports fields, and the castle, which is amazing. There are hundreds of rooms – not even Professor Dumbledore knows about all of them! And it's really old too. It's been around for hundreds of years."

Stewart was having trouble taking in so much information. Hogwarts seemed like a place better than anything he'd ever imagined, yet Susan talked about it with such familiarity as if everything about it was quite commonplace, really. As they talked throughout the day, Stewart felt like he was really going to like this place.

A/N: Okay, how was it? Let me know, I'm needy! Also, this chapter is only half-way done. I don't know whether you guys get alerts or not for a revision of a chapter (?), but I'll just be tacking the rest onto this chapter once I've finished it. I just got so much positive feedback with just the Prologue that I thought I'd give you a bit of the first chapter.

Further, I'm sorry about calling "it" _Witcraft_. I have no real choice in the matter, as my internet filter omits the word, and I wanted you to see what I'd meant to say, so there you are. In future chapters I'm going to post at the top of each chapter where you can find a word document of that chapter so you don't have to read this poorly formatted copy if you don't want to - I really do find it annoying.

Thanks for reading, and please review!


End file.

Harry Potter, Adventure, Supernatural