Feathers, fur, and scales seem to be spilling from the walls. As you step inside, you are assaulted by a jungle's worth of shrieks and calls and hisses and noises that you can't ideantify, but that sound just human enough to make the hairs on the back of your next stand up. A shopkeeper with a large mole on his nose taps the counter lazily as you edge [[inside]].

You whirl around at the sound of the unfamiliar voice.\n\nA man with a shock of white hair has appeared behind the front counter, smiling placidly down in your direction.\n\nYou look around the store to see who he might be addressing, but find it completely empty except for the two of you.\n\n[["No, no. I'm talking to you."]]

Most creatures growl or spit at you as you pass by, so you put a foot or two of space between yourself and them. The shopkeeper glances up at them, probably wondering what had them so worked up. The people here can't see you, but other things can. Just because you can't be seen doesn't mean you aren't there.\n\nIn the far corner, as deep into the shop as you can go, a placid tuft of white feathers catches your attention. As you get closer, a snowy owl stops preening herself and turns to look at you. She tilts her head inquisitively as if to say //[[You're not supposed to be here...]]//

The steps shift underfoot, rattling you slightly, but you steady yourself quickly against the railing. You peer over the sides of the railing as you move through empty space, the stairs seeking a new resting place of their own accord.\n\nFinally, the steps jolt to a halt. You look up to find that you've arrived at another landing. You dismount the staircase and scurry down into [[the corridor beyond.]]

You crawl forward for what feels like hours. You can't see so much as an inch past your nose and your hands are caked with dirt. You press onward.\n\nJust as the thought of giving up and turning back begins to flicker through your mind, you see tiny beams of light streaming in from the ceiling. You scurry forward, desperate to find [[the end of the tunnel.]]

The water is the front porch of the boy's story, sloshing up on the shore of the refuge you all find from the storm. It leaves you on the shores of the [[beginning.]]

You're left alone in a whirl of cloaks and sparks and jars of beetlewings rattling in storefront windows. You can go anywhere.\n\n[[Flourish and Blotts]]\n[[Eeylops Owl Emporium]]\n[[Ollivander's]]\n[[Gringotts Wizarding Bank]]

The portrait swings upen to reveal a cozy living room, flickering light from the fireplace casting friendly shadows on the crimson tapestries. The students flood into the room, mouths agape with wonder. You, too can't help but gape as the warmth of the room envelops you. Stepping inside feels like wrapping yourself up in [[a soft, red blanket.]]

A gaggle of students with brand new blue and bronze-colored scarves pulled up to their chins make their way from the hall and you follow close behind.\n\nThey are quieter than many of their peers, and but speak as frequently, addressing one another mostly in questions.\n\n"How do you think they make the ceiling do that?"\n\n"Did you hear that the staircases here //move//? What would the practical purpose for that be?"\n\n"Where do you think our dorm is? I hear all the houses have a different way of getting in, [[I wonder what ours will be...]]"

Regretfully, you turn your back on the rows of books and burnished metal instruments humming and whirring away on the shelves. Rowena Ravenclaw eyes you balefully from her post atop a marble pedastal as you give the room one last glance, then push the door open, and return again to the stairwell [[from whence you came.|Hall]]

The moment the words leave her lips, the wall melts away before your very eyes. The prefect steps through, motioning her young charges to follow her, and you follow suit.\n\nThe room you step into is warmer than the hall outside, but not by much. The students don't seem to mind though. You see them all practically [[swell with pride as the cross the threshold.]]

You land not far below, blinking rapidly in the darkness, to find yourself at the beginning of what feel like a small tunnel. You look up at the opening above, streaming torchlight into the small, dark passage. You drop to your hands and knees, deciding to press onward.\n\n[[You're just grateful you can't die here.]]

A pair of older students, a girl with sleek, brown ponytail and a boy beside her with close-cropped, tight curls, lead you all into the depths of the school and up a long, spiraling staircase. \n\nSeveral students lag behind, panting with exertion. You're grateful that you won't have to climb these every day. Time moves much faster for you than it will for them...\n\nThe prefects finally come to a halt at the top of the tower, waiting a moment for their exhausted charges to [[catch up|Raven Tower]].

They make two stops as you snake along together deeper underground. Rows of vaults line the track like a massive beehive, every one hiding a different mystery, a different secret. You wish you could try every door.\n\nBut if you did, your inevitable imprisonment inside the magical mechanisms of Gringotts would make this a very different [[story]].

All Roads Lead to Hogwarts\n<small><small><small>a reader's journey through the world of Harry Potter</small></small></small>

She gives a few more shuddering gasps, before collapsing back into her chair, her words blotted out by a deep snore. Adrenaline ebbs form your system and you feel your whole body relax. She's still sleeping. You let out a deep breath and back away from the table.\n\nAs soon as you are close enough to the door that you can be sure you won't stumble over one of the many piles of pillows and tea cozies, you turn and fly down the stairs as fast as your legs will carry you, leaving the woman snoring loudly [[behind you.]]

Suddenly, a hushed sound shudders through the maze of magical things. You stop moving and prick up your ears, searching for the source. You follow the noises until you can recognize them: whispers. Human whispers.\n\nA chill goes down your spine. [[The whispers are growing louder.]]

The thick stream of students parts into tributaries as the train rolls to a stop, clusters of upperclassmen splitting off to board carriages, clumps of shivering first years drawing together in their uncertainty.\n\nThe boy's excort to Diagon Alley stands, giant and wild, off to the side of the station platform, coralling the youngest children to his side. You slip the wriggling toad into his pocket and step back, letting people pass through and [[around you]].

<center>Thanks for playing</center>\n<center>ALL ROADS LEAD TO HOGWARTS</center>\n\n<center>[img[hogwarts pixel]]</center>

The air in here is as thick with feathers as on owlery, but these ones have clearly been devoid of birds for a long time. Quills float of their own accord, scrawling out loopy script that you can't decipher onto hovering scrolls of parchment. You're not quite certain if they're a marketing display or if they're performing some vital function of the bookstore.\n\nEvery inch of the walls is covered in [[books]].

You open your eyes to see that you have arrived at a landing. You take a moment to allow your head to stop spinning before stepping forward, leaving the stairs behind. You walk through the passage it reveals, and find yourself in a long hallway.\n\n[[You start to walk.]]

[img[diagon alley 2][Diagon Alley]]

The woman gasps suddenly in her sleep, sitting bold upright. You stumble backward, nearly knocking the crystal ball from its pedastal as you do.\n\nThe woman mouths restlessly, as if trying to locate words that were escaping her. Her eyes roll in her head.\n\n//"The one who crosses between worlds..."// she gasps.\n\n[[A bolt of fear roots you to the spot.]]

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You try doors on both sides of the hall, one after another being bolted firmly shut. You wish again that you had a wand.\n\nAs you near the end of the hall, jiggling one locked doorknob after another, you almost start to give up hope.\n\nBut the very last door clicks softly when you turn it, and [[the door creaks open.]]

The moment you find your footing on the stairs, they begin to shift and sway under you. You cling to the railing as the staircase floats up higher and higher, as if on invisible strings.\n\nAfter several minutes, you wonder if it will [[ever stop.]]

You nearly turn to go, when something gleams in the corner of your eye. You swivel back from the exit, eyeing it intently. It's something tall and broad, covered in cloth and pushed up against the furthest wall. The cloth covering has slipped free of the upper corner and now glints in the pale moonlight streaming in from the windows.\n\n[[You move towards it.]]

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The prefects have to struggle for several minutes to lead the gaggle of newbies, eyes bright with amazement, determined, it seems, to touch and inspect everything available to them in the common room, up to their dormitories.\n\nBut finally they do go, leaving the older students to their studies and idle amusements. The room feels full of light and life, even as the darkness outside presses in through [[cracks in the curtains.]]

You walk up to it hesitantly, empty hallway forgotten. You're sure this door hadn't been here before. It's simple but large, with heavy wooden panelling and iron hinges. It looks out of place in the middle of the smooth, stone wall.\n\nYou wrap your hand around the doorknob and push. [[It swings open.]]

The room is damp and dark, but ornately decorated. A low fire crackles nehind the grate, but more light is cast by the elegant, wrought iron chandeliers overhead, and the matching metal lamps clinging to the walls.\n\nThe whole room looks plucked directly from an ancient castle, which, you suppose, it actually is. But the cheerful, modern students look strange and out of place in its verdant depths.\n\n[[A dull glow of magically illuminated windows casts shadows on every face.]]

The landing leads to a long hall, full of doors on each side. The largest and most ornate of these is on the left, with an engraving over the entrance reading "Library."\n\nYou peer through the metal bars blocking the entrance at the stacks and stacks of books, stretching deep into the darkness of the Library. You wish you would look at every one of them, but you're not strong enough to open the lock.\n\n[[You keep moving.]]

You begin with a spring in your step, excited to see what this level will reveal. But as you keep walking, you realize that the floor is completely empty. The hallway does not seem to branch off into even a single room. Frustrated, you turn back, wishing that rooms full of amazing, magical things to explore were as easy to come by as one might think they should be [[in a magic castle like this.]]

This hallway proves unremarkable, holding only a series of tapestries, a spiraling staircase, and a hideous statue of a woman with one eye and a hump larger than her head.\n\nYou decide to try the staircase and see what might be at the top. You start up the steps, reaching a hand out and rubbing the statue's stone hump as you pass it.\n\n[[The grinding of stone makes you stop in your tracks.]]

Step onto a platform. Steam billows through a maze of cloaks and trunks and squawking animals, caged up for too long. You quickly step to the side as someone else barrels through the bricks behind you. You've lost sight of the boy by now, and his red headed companions.\n\n[[You have time.]]

When you finally reach the top, you're faced with a door. A classroom or an office, you presume. Perhaps the astronomy tower? You try the handle.\n\n[[The door opens.]]

The room inside is large and full of light, a jumble of mismatched chandeliers swinging from the cavernous ceiling. It is full to the brim with piles of books and furniture and jewelry and all manner of junk as far as the eye can see.\n\n[[You step inside, awestruck.]]

Slowly and carefully, you pick your way out of the maze, taking care not to look back at the cabinet and risk inciting the attention of whatever lay on the other side. You reach the entrance of the room and push the door open, leaving it wide behind you as you take off down the hall. As you glance back over your shoulder, you see that the door has vanished, leaving nothing but an expanse of empty wall in its place.\n\nYou return to the landing, grateful, at least, to find the stairs still where you left them. You return to the top step and wait for the stairs to move again.\n\n[[It's time for you to leave.|either("Trelawney", "Hogsmeade", "Erised")]]\n\n<<if visited("Trelawney", "Hogsmeade", "Erised")>>\nOr, you can turn back. It's late, you're tired, and [[there will be more to see tomorrow.]]\n<<endif>>

As you get closer, you begin to realize that it's a mirror. A huge mirror, several times your size. You reach out, grab a fistful of cloth, and [[pull it to the floor.]]

Older students sit in armchairs, some reading quietly, othersconjuring elaborate projections of the images in their books for their friends, talking and laughing together, unconcerned with the dorms newest inhabitants.\n\nThe younger students didn't acknowledge them much either, instead pulling books from shelves, gently inspecting the collections of mysterious, metal instruments [[that perch atop bookcases and tables.]]

You stumble through the heavy wooden doors not a moment too soon, as a tiny (creature? person? something in between?) leads the pair away from a high wooden desk, and deeper into the bank. You only get a brief moment to admire the high-ceilinged hall, every inch covered in marble and inlaid with gold, before you're whisked away.\n\nYou trail close after the trio as they file through another set of doors, leading into a dark, dripping cavern. They pile into a rickety metal cart perched on a set of equally rickety tracks. You give the setup a mistrustful look before [[squeezing in beside them]].

Nearly all of the new students run inside and embrace older students waiting inside. They all seem to know each other already, students old and new chattering amiably like old family friends.\n\nThe prefects slink away, their guidance no longer necessary, as their classmates take charge over their younger friends. The small groups grow larger, and as the night wears on, dozens of students have gathered, cozing together on couches and chairs and on the floor by the fire to catch up.\n\n[[You watch from afar.]]

You walk up to it and peer inside. It is full to the brim with brightly colored packages and candies wrapped in shiny plastic. They seem to shine brightly, even in the darkness. Your stomach rumbles.\n\n[[Surely just one can't hurt...]]

The moment you do, the glass begins to cloud. What looks like black smoke unfurls within its depths, twisting itself into curls and shapes too quickly for you to identify.\n\nYou squint into the orb trying to discern something, anything. An image swims into view. It looks like...[[a door?]]

Bookshelves cling to the walls all the way up the stairs leading to the second floor. Orphaned books lay stacked, bent at the spines in piles on the floor as families push and shove their way toward rows of fresh, leatherbound copies of school books. They flow around you in droves as you crane your neck to look around at the teeming [[shelves]].

The piles of refuse and ancient, delapitated objects form a maze, and you wander aimlessly, inspecting everything you can see. Whatever you had been expecting, it wasn't this. But somehow, this was [[better than you could have ever hoped for.]]

You find yourself at the foot of a staircase, arching across an empty expanse. You look up to see several other landings without staircases leading to them. This must be one of the moving staircases.\n\nYou eye the steps suspiciously for a moment, then step forward, planting yourself firmly on the stairs, steeling yourself for [[wherever it might take you.|either("Erised", "Trelawney", "Room of Requirement", "Hogsmeade")]]

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Not a big explosion, but enough to singe the edges of your shoes and startle you into dropping the rest of the package.\n\nPOP! POP! POW!\n\nThe other candies erupt at your feet and you stumble backwards. A piece of brighly colored, charred plastic floats down with the unsettled dust, reading "Exploding Bon Bons."\n\nYou're not sure what this means for you or if anyone else in the building could hear your terrible mistake as well, but [[you aren't interested in sticking around to find out.]]

The wooden square moves easily, swinging up and open. A trapdoor. You hoist yourself up and into the room it reveals.\n\nYou find yourself sitting on the floor of a cellar, boxes stacked high around you in every direction. The boxes are all stamped "Honeydukes" in bright red ink.\n\n[[One box is missing a lid.]]

But this house is a cradle, not a grave. His story doesn't begin here, it doesn't end here, and neither do you.\n\nThese brick walls have held bars in every window for too many years. But more [[letters]] come, stronger this time, and you and the boy break free from the confines of Number 4, ready to [[begin]].

You follow the crowd as they depart the station, trailing just behind them.\n\nYou follow them across another sea, the lake that separates you from the great castle on a hill, pulling you inexorably toward it. The water, calm this time around, sloshes over the sides of the boat and laps at your feet. You feel as excited and terrified for them as they all [[look]].

You step up onto the train, empty handed, as children pass luggage through windows and up to conductors. The relative peace of the inside of the train is a relief, and you wander from car to car as students and soon-to-be students mill about.\n\nYou still haven't found a seat as the train sounds its horn and begins pulling out from [[the station]].

Suddenly exhausted, you slump against the railing of the stairs.\n\n"Take me back," you say to no one in particular. But the stairs seem to understand you, and push off from the landing, drifting back to the floor you originally came from.\n\n[[It has been a long day.]]

You snake back up the bottomless pit of Gringotts, cart infinitely wealthier than it had been on the way down. Coins jingle in pockets and a package crinkles under the folds of a heavy coat.\n\n[[You emerge again into the sunlight.]]

Instead you watch from a distance, perched on an easy chair, watching people talk and laugh, basking in the comfort of the common room. At some point, someone actually does produce a tin of chocolate chip cookies and passes them around, making sure all of the new students get one before taking one for themself.\n\nYou wish you could try one, but you're not enirely sure what would happen if you tried. [[You don't think you want to test it.]]

You reach the bottom landing, breathing hard, glad to be free of that stuffy room. You step carefully back onto the staircase, ready to be somewhere, [[anywhere else.|either("Erised", "Room of Requirement", "Hogsmeade")]]\n\n<<if visited("Erised", "Room of Requirement", "Hogsmeade")>>\nOr, you can turn back. It's late, you're tired, and [[there will be more to see tomorrow.]]\n<<endif>>

Even enchanted torches aren't sure how to react to your presence. Some burst into flame as you approach, as they're bewitched to do for people of this world. But they extinguish almost immediately, as if to cover up their embarrassing mistake. Some flicker weakly before dying back to embers. Some don't react at all.\n\nYour presence wreaks havok on this world. [[You shape it as much as it shapes you.]]

As you look around, you catch a snatch of conversation.\n\n"I'm telling you, I saw him!"\n\nYou turn your head to see to pointy hatted heads, with wide brims obscuring their faces, dipped together in conversation.\n\n"Bollocks! I don't believe it."\n\n"Really, I did! Passed through the Leaky Cauldron not ten minutes ago, he did!"\n\nYou pull your attention away from the cascade of books and follow the pair as the move briskly around [[the store]].

You turn back around, determined to mind something interesting on this floor before moving on.\n\nBut before you can make it back to the empty hallway, a grinding of stone and spitting of wood stops you in your tracks. Out of the corner of your eye you see something on the wall opposite the hallway.\n\nYou turn to see a door that you're sure hadn't been there [[the first time you passed by.]]

You shoot a glance toward the sleeping woman before stepping into the room and moving toward the desk you presume is hers. The orb on the desk (a crystal ball, you also presume) is completely transparent as you approach. You can see nothing but the dusty table beneath it and your own face, inverted, reflected back at you.\n\n[[You reach out to touch it.]]

For a moment you're too surprised to move as the door opens just enough for you so see the deep darkness on the other side. You look around instinctually, though, if anyone was around, they certainly wouldn't be bothering you.\n\n[[You push the door open and step inside.]]

A small mob of students, freshly bedecked in the green and silver of their new house slip away from the Hall, toward a dark stairwell off the side of the entrance chamber. You follow close behind them, trying hard not to lose them as the older groups disperse elsewhere.\n\nThe group has already split off into smaller factions, pairs and trios sticking close together against the loudly chattering tide beyond their group. Their giggles and murmurs echo loud as a bullhorn against cold, damp stone [[as they descend the stairs.]]

Erin Strubbe

Instead you wander, hands behind your back, admiring everything from the craftsmanship of the woodworked funiture stationed at the walls and beside couches and easy chairs, to the vibrant coloring of the ancient drapings hung all around the room. Everything is equally incredible to you.\n\nThe boy disappears upstairs with the horde of his colleages, but you remain behind. This is his story, you remind yourself, [[not yours.]]

#storyTitle { \n\tfont-size: 20 px;\n\tcolor: green !important;\n }\n#storyAuthor {\n\tcolor: green !important; \n}\n.passage a {\n\tcolor: green !important;\n}

You're underground, you can see by the high windows, partially obscured from the outside by soil and overgrown grass, but just barely. The walls are brick and dark, earthy wood, with shelves covered in plants of all styles and sized everywhere you look.\n\nStarlight streams in through the windows as the new students are corralled over the their dormitories. The whole room makes you feel [[safe and warm.]]

<center>HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY</center>\n\n<center>Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore</center>\n<center>(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)</center>\n\nDear Mr. Potter,\n\nWe are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.\n\nTerm begins on 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July.\n\nYours sincerely,\n\n[[Minerva McGonagall|have not been kind to him]]\nDeputy Headmistress

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

A rumpled old hat sits at the head of the Hall, each student trying it on before peeling off to their assigned table. Your fingers itch to try it on, but you know that, like everything else in this world, it is not for you.\n\nYou almost move forward anyway, almost grab it out of sheer impulse and reckless desire to find some thread to tie you down here. But the moment you do, a long haired, white bearded man turns directly towards you. He says nothing, does not acknowledge you. You can't be sure if he's seen you or not. He shouldn't have. He couldn't have. But the small smile that twitches at the corner of his lips when he looks in your direction, the twinkle in his eye, warns you away.\n\nYou step back, and he turns away, leaving you wondering [[how much he could really see.]]

The halls are empty in the night, and most everyone else is in bed. There might, perhaps, be patrols stationed few and far between, but you don't expect any trouble from the people who inhabit this world.\n\n[[You can go anywhere you want.]]

The happiness and comfort the students radiate seems to warm the whole room. It makes the whole chamber more comforting and full of life. You find yourself becoming more at peace as you listen in and watch from the sidelines. \n\n[[You find yourself wishing that you, too, had a place here.]]

It all begins with [[Number 4]].

When you reach the source of the light, you see that the apertures are tiny cracks in a series of wooden boards above. The tunnel has been all dirt and hard, packed clay for as far as you could remember, except for this one square of wood.\n\n[[You push up.]]

A crowd of students, laughing and shoving each other playfully, rise from their seats and move from the Hall, and you scurry after them.\n\nTwo older students,(prefects, by the look of their gleaming, yellow and black badges) lead the charge, smiling and laughing along with them. They lead the group toward a long, dark hallway which slopes down into the depths of the castle.\n\nThough they are moving further and further belowground, the hallway never seems to get any cooler. The torch flames, dancing merrily on both walls, seemed to warm even [[the cool, grey stones.]]

He leans on the counter and looks directly at you with piercing, silver eyes.\n\n"I wish I could do something for you, but I'm afraid I have to retain my stock for those whom it might benefit. You understand, I hope."\n\nHe gives you a kind smile, which you can't quite find it in you to return. You back away from him, unsure of how to react, before turning to scurry back out of the shop.\n\n"Good luck!" you hear him say as the door swings shut behind [[you|Diagon Alley Nav]].

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A fat, green toad crawls over your foot as you pause at the end of a car. You lean down to pick it up, afraid that it might get trampled under the sea of excitable students, changing into their clean-pressed, black robes.\n\nThe countryside is growing dark outside the windows and sheep and cows that speckled the hillsides were slowly disappearing. The train slowed as it approached [[the station|Hogsmeade Station]].

"Do you think we'll all be in the same house?"\n\n"Obviously. Everyone in our families have been Slytherins for generations, I don't see why that would change now."\n\n"Yeah, well, I was just thinking..."\n\n"Well try not to hurt yourself, Crabbe."\n\n"Heh heh heh..."\n\n"Personally, if the Sorting Hat puts me anywhere else I'll complain directly to the headmaster. My family are born Slytherins, I won't stand to be put anywhere else. My father will set it right."\n\n"I suppose so..."\n\n[[You move along.|Train]]

"Go on Lee, show us!"\n\n"Be patient, she's shy!"\n\n"I knew it, there's no way you really brought a tarantula."\n\n"I did too! She's just resting! What, do //you// want to wake up a sleeping tarantula?"\n\n"Whatever. Wanna see what we've been working on over the summer?"\n\n"What IS that?"\n\n"Goose Gummies! They turn you into a goose! Or they're supposed to anyway. Last batch just made George sprout a few feathers."\n\n"My nose went a bit orange too!"\n\n"Nah, it's always like that."\n\n"Well this batch is better, for sure. Any interest in helping us work out the kinks?"\n\n[[You keep walking.|Train]]

"Did you hear Harry Potter's on this train?"\n\n"//Harry Potter?// Aw, come off it!"\n\n"No, I'm serious! Fred Weasley's just told me!"\n\n"And you believed him?"\n\n"He swore! Lee Jordan saw him too!"\n\n"Oh, Lee Jordan says so! Well there's no way //he'd// be pulling your leg..."\n\n"It makes sense though, dunnit? He'd be about the right age, he's gotta come to Hogwarts sometime."\n\n"Yeah, yeah, I bet you five sickles he's pulling one over on you."\n\n"I'll take it! We'll see at the sorting ceremony, won't we?"\n\n"Excellent, I always do feel like I'm a few sickles short during Hogsmeade visits."\n\n[[You keep moving.|Train]]

Slowly, they all begin to disperse, careful to sweep up or vanish the crumbs left behind as they go. The room is nearly empty before you decide it's time for you to leave as well.\n\nPulling yourself up from the stiff arm of the chair you've been leaning on, you turn back to the barrel entrance, pry it open, and slip back into the hallway beyond.\n\nYou get one, final glimpse at the soft yellow couches and flourishing greens on the windowsills before the door [[slams shut behind you.|Hall]]

A pile of broken wands sits on the floor, weakly emitting sparks. A cage perches upon what looks like a child's high chair, a small key with wings flapping lazily within its confines. Books are stacked higher than you are tall, arranged to allow just barely enough space for a small person to pass through.\n\nYou drag your fingers across everything, mouth and eyes [[wide with awe.]]

As soon as you take your place on the bottom step, the short flight of stairs slides smoothly out of place, shifting and twirling patiently like a music box. After several moments, it finds purchase on a lonely landing jutting out from the middle of the wall.\n\nYou step forward and onto the landing hastily, just in case the staircase decides to change its mind.\n\n[[It doesn't.]]

You slip around family clusters, parents weeping over uncomfortable children, teenagers loudly reuniting with old friends. The platforms is a deafening roar, even without the foghorn warning of [[the train at the center of it all]].

You inspect the many plants lining the walls, some you recognize, many you don't. The peace is broken only by a small gaggle of older students playing Gobstones in the middle of the floor, hooting with laugher as an opponent receives a faceful of putrid slime after losing a round.\n\n[[You wish you could join them.]]

But you don't. You remind yourself of that as students finally begin to head out to their bedrooms, extinguishing the soft green glow of lamps with a flick of their wands as they go.\n\nThe room feels eerily quiet in the absence of inhabitants, filling the space with life and chatter. It's time for you to go.\n\nYou slip away, back toward the wall you entered from. You give the room, dark and unwelcoming once more since becoming uninhabited, a final look, before passing through the wall and [[back into the hallway that led you there.|Hall]]

As you follow the meandering streets, you eventually come to a delta in the river of humanity: a massive, leaning building entitled //Gringotts Wizarding Bank.//\n\nA tiny mop of black hair disappears into the doors, accompanied by his towering companion. You break into a jog to [[catch up]].

As students slowly trickle out, the common room is eventually left empty. Except for you. You stand helpless in the middle of the room, having inspected and admired everything within your power to see. You wish desperately you could experience more of it, but this is all this room has to offer you for now.\n\nWith a last look toward the empty room, flickering with dying embers, kept aflame, it feels, just for you, you move back toward the portrait, and slip out, into the [[hall beyond.|Hall]]

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Every inch of the room is covered in mismatched tapestries, pillows, and poufs. A cabinet full of haphazardly stacked, equally mismatched china and a cluttered but solid wooden desk were the only things that kept the room from feeling like a circus tent.\n\nA clear glass orb sat, perched on a golden, claw-foot stand, [[in the middle of the desk.]]

The Hall blooms before you, a spray of stars and laughter and candles floating amongst it all. You can't help but feel awestruck as you watch the bright flame of the manmade mingling with the pinprick constellations above.\n\nThe boy stands near the middle of the line, arms wrapped around himself, trying not to look too vulnerable or afraid. You smile at him though you know he can't see you, and stand back, wandering the hall as first years are shuffled forward, [[one by one]].

You smile at her. She blinks back at you.\n\nShe's the only one who doesn't seem disturbed by your presence, so you poke a finger through the bars to stroke her feathers. She blinks at you again and leans toward you, as if to accept the affection, then turns her head quickly and nips hard at your finger.\n\nYou quickly pull your finger out and squeeze the cut as blood pools near the surface. The owl looks at you as if to say //That's what you get.//\n\n[[You back away and hurry quickly out of the store.|Diagon Alley Nav]]

You clasp your hands behind your back and peer from cage to cage. A jagged talon swipes out from behind the bars, just barely grazing your cheek. You stumble a step backwards and scoot down so it can't reach you. You're not entirely sure what all of these things are, but you have a good idea about most of them. With the excption of a handful of non-enchanted owls, cats, and toads, most of them are left well enough alone. A dung beetle the size of a rodent rattles around in her [[tiny cage]].

You keep an eye on him from a distance. Beside him, though a couple of inches taller, is a mop of red hair. He seems to have found a friend. You can't help but feel proud of him.\n\nAs a group, you stroll up to a life-size portrait of a woman in a pink dress that dripped from her like frosting. She gives the prefect a look and crosses her hands imperiously over her stomach.\n\n[["Caput Draconis,"]] he tells her, unprompted.

Portraits snooze on the walls and a few older students sit huddled by the fire, playing a raucous game of chess. One or two students watch in awe as a knight tramples a pawn to pieces, kicking the shards of marble from the board with its hooves.\n\nBut most surge forward, toward a spiral staircase where the prefect that led them stand waiting, itching to see their new rooms.\n\n[[The Muggle borns among the group are easy to spot.]]

Finally they reached the bottom of the hallway, which seemed to terminate in nothing more than a dead end and a stack of wooden barrels. Unperturbed, the prefects gathered their charges around them and instructed, step by step, the method of entry.\n\nOne brandished a wand and rapped smartly on the middle barrel of the second row.\n\n//[[Tap tap. Tap tap tap.]]//

You wander through the halls, wishing you could see more, wishing you could see everything. But it is not to be. [[Not today anyway.]]

You blink as your eyes adjust to the darkness, and slowly a vast, empty classroom swims into view. The walls are plain stone, though the shadows of old posters leave ghostly stamps all along them. There are no chairs, no tables, no textbooks, not even a loose sheaf of parchment.\n\n[[You can't help but feel slightly disappointed.]]

You stop abruptly in front of a tall, dilapitated cabinet you hadn't noticed before. The whispers are so loud and clear now, the speaker might as well be standing beside you. You lean forward and press your ear against its doors.\n\n//"...the boy..."\n\n"...no...not time yet..."\n\n"..too long..."//\n\nYou jump back from the cabinet, a feeling of ominous dread filling your stomach. [[You should get out of here.]]

You scurry back to the trapdoor, squeeze back into the passage, and slam the door shut behind you.\n\nYou wriggle back through the passage in record time, slipping in sweat-soaked palms, and pulling yourself out of the witch's hump with shaking muscles. The stone slides back into place, hiding the passage as if it were never even there.\n\nYou straighten your clothes and wipe your dirty hands on your legs before hurrying back down to the landing and stepping back onto the moving staircase without so much as a look behind you.\n\n[[It's time to go.|either("Trelawney", "Room of Requirement", "Erised")]]\n\n<<if visited("Trelawney", "Room of Requirement", "Erised")>>\nOr, you can turn back. It's late, you're tired, and [[there will be more to see tomorrow.]]\n<<endif>>

It threatens every entrance as you sit on the musty floor beside the boy, shivering in cold and fear. Two birthday cakes sit beside him, one scratched into the floor, one flickering, alive with light and smeared frosting. One from each of his two worlds.\n\nYou blow out both sets of candles with him.\n\nYou chance a glance up the stairs behind you, where his family walls themselves away from the chasm he has driven between their world and his, as he is led out into [[the tempest]].

They chatter conspiratorialy to their one or two new friends, in good spirits despite their disconcerting surroundings.\n\nAfter a while the prefects at the head of the group stop suddenly and turn to face the new students. One prefect clears her throat and the group falls silent instantly. As soon as the has captured the attention of all of her charges, she turns toward one of the many unremarkable, slime coated walls and whispers [["Ophidia."]]

On your way back to the stairs, you pass by what looks like another long, empty hallway. You keep walking at first, disillusioned by the apparent lack of exciting prospects on this floor. But then, as you nearly reach the end of the hallway, you hesitate. There might be nothing, true. Maybe your time would be better spent on another floor.\n\nBut then again, [[there might be something...]]

That's where you begin too. You existed before Number 4 and you will exist long after, but here is where you begin. You stand there in the middle of Number 4, a house full of people who mill about you, going about your business as if you weren't there. \n\nEven if they //could// see you, you doubt they would bother you much. Day in and day out they're too busy berating the little boy with a shock of black hair and a scar that ripples over his face like a cracked plate, to bother with much else.\n\nYou remember when he first arrived, [[the letter]] he clutched in his tiny hand.\n\nThe ten years since that night [[have not been kind to him]].

The world blurs around you as you are shot like a rocket toward your destination. You sit bolt upright with rapt attention, nearly matching that of the boy beside you. Your heads turn in unison as a plume of flame blossoms just out of the corner of your eye. The boy leans nearly all the way out of the cart to get a closer look, but you remain firmly [[planted]].

Slowly laughter regresses to yawns and students pull themselves up from window seats and armchairs, tucking their books under their arms and trudging upstairs. You inspect every bookshelf as they go, reading book titles, wishing you could take some with you.\n\n"The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 3"\n"A History of Magic"\n"Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them"\n\nWhen you finally look up, you realize that the room is empty. [[It's time for you to go.]]

As the meal ends, students file away, four distinct streams, all flowing in opposite directions. You can't be told where you belong, but you can decide for yourself.\n\n[img[gryffindor pixel][Gryffindor]] [img[ravenclaw pixel][Ravenclaw]] [img[hufflepuff pixel][Hufflepuff]] [img[slytherin pixel][Slytherin]]

You reach in and select a package of bon bons, each coated in brightly colored chocolate. You eagerly peel the package open and pluck one from the plastic, but in your excitement, you drop the candy before it makes it to your mouth.\n\n[[It explodes on impact with the ground.]]

This castle is a maze and a mystery in itself, and you doubt that you could ever see every inch of it, even if you had an eternity to wander. Maybe, as the story of this place wears on, you'll discover more, see more, learn more. In fact, you feel certain that you will.\n\nBut this story is still only beginning and the boy is only one small part of it. You have time to wander. You have time to discover. You have time.\n\nAfter all, every road you take always seems to lead back here.\n\n[[THE END]]

Dear Petunia Dursley,\n\t\n It is with deep regret and great sorrow that I must inform you that your sister, Lily Potter, is dead. She and her husband, James, were killed last night in an attack by a very powerful, very dangerous wizard by the name of Lord Voldemort. Only her young son, Harry, survived. You being his next of kin, guardianship of Harry now falls to you until his seventeenth birthday.\n\n It would appear as though Lord Voldemort, too, perished in the attack that killed your sister, but I do not believe that Harry's safety is yet guaranteed. I do not expect you to understand, but it is imperative that Harry remain with you until he comes of age. Certain magical protections have already been afforded to your home, which will keep both Harry and your own family safe in the meantime. But I must warn you now, should Harry be cast out or placed in another home, the boy will likely suffer the same fate as his parents.\n\n I implore you to protect and care for Harry as if he were your own. Your sister gave her life to save his, and so long as you keep him safe beneath your roof, her sacrifice will not have been in vain.\n\n Sincerest condolences to you and your family from myself and from millions of witches and wizards around the world.\n\n[[Albus Dumbledore|Number 4]]\n

The lid of the barrel pops open at the final tap and the prefects usher the slightly confused new students. You follow close behind, crawling in through the passage before it starts to swing shut behind the two prefects.\n\nWhen you emerge from the other side, you are enveloped by a soft, warm glow of firelight and the smell of freshly baked cookies. The students spread out, breathing in the sweet air and admiring [[the large, cozy room.]]

The mirror is stunning, ornartely carved larger than any you've ever seen before, despite being slightly tarnished with age. Above the reflective glass, an inscription reads:\n\n[["Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi"]]

You wander up and down stairs, deeper and deeper into the castle. You're not sure where you're going, only that you want to get there, somewhere, anywhere...\n\nThe portraits don't even pretend to sleep as you pass by, though some of them shiver slightly and check over their shoulders, just to be sure [[no one is there.]]

You move forward, shrouded by a thin veil (a cloak of invisibility, if you will), through this world. It's not yours, but it's not theirs either. You are from one world, they are from another.\n\nBut the places you inhabit together are something [[in between]].

Eventually it does, but only after climbing so high that you lose sight of the ground below. You are so distracted by trying to discern your distance from landing you departed from, that you almost fail to notice when the staircase finally grinds to a halt.\n\nYou look up so see that you have been deposited at the [[bottom of a staircase.]]

The stairs jolt suddenly into movement, tipping and rolling slightly like a boat on a breezy sea. You hold tight to the railing as portraits blur past you. It moves so fast that you can feel centrifugal force tugging at your finger tips. You squuze your eyes shut.\n\nJust as you start feeling slightly nauseous, the stairs come to [[a sudden halt.]]

The water roars up around you as cross the sea, huddled in the corner of a tiny boat, as unnoticed by its passengers as the boat is by the sea. It pays them no attention. \n\n[[It passes you all by.]]

Green hills roll past the windows as you wander from [[compartment|C1]] to [[compartment|C2]] to [[compartment|C3]].

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You back away from the mirror. Your reflected self smiles brightly back at you and remains where they are.\n\nYou turn and bolt from the room, leaving both the classroom and its teeming double behind. You slam the door shut behind you, wishing you could lock it, and bolt down the hallway, returning again to the landing and the staircase waiting innocently beyond it. You step onto the staircase.\n\n[[It's time to visit somewhere else.|either("Trelawney", "Room of Requirement", "Hogsmeade")]]\n\n<<if visited("Trelawney", "Room of Requirement", "Hogsmeade")>>\nOr, you can turn back. It's late, you're tired, and [[there will be more to see tomorrow.]]\n<<endif>>

A stream of crimson and gold-clad students chatter their way through the castle, earning disparaging looks from the slumbering inhabitants of ancient, yellowing portraits as they went.\n\n"Keep quiet, will you?" a gold-robed wizard hisses from his desk inside a matching, gold pictureframe.\n\n"Apologies, Mr. Fronsac, sir," says a hassled looking prefect, before hollering for quiet over the dull roar of a dozen excitable eleven year olds.\n\n[[The boy is among them.]]

Dust motes fill every beam of light that manages to penetrate the grimy windows of Ollivander's. The whole of Diagon Alley seems loopsided, objects piled in a mess that would be unsortable to any without magic at their fingers. But Ollivander's is the most disheveled by far. Small rectangular boxes stretch back as far as the eye can see, filling row upon row behind the front counter.\n\nOne such box lies open in the display window. You run your fingers along the smooth wood of the handle. It doesn't react to your touch, through you secretly hoped that it might.\n\n[["I think you and I both know that I don't have anything for you here."]]

You wish you could spend more time here. You watch the people in the streets with a sort of desperate longing as you're pulled inexorably along. You're not done with the bubbling of flasks and conversation, with the bright ostentatiousness of it all. But it's done with you. You can't stay any longer. A new chapter is coming.\n\nYou slip through the brick wall [[and...]]

You know where you're going [[now]].

Hankerchiefs flap and sparks from wand tips fly from the platform as families say final goodbyes from either side of the train windows. You hang on tight as the train shudders and sways forward, pulling you out from the stifling station, into the wide, sprawling [[countryside]].

You look down at the statue below, to see that the large, stone extrusion has slid avay, revealing a chute, leading directly into darkness. Your eyes go wide and you glance between the statue and the top of the stairs.\n\n//Nothing ventured, nothing gained,// you think as you clamber up, over the railing, and slide feet first [[into the statue.]]

The door swings open, and you and the new students find yourselves in a wide, airy room, all white marble with arched windows letting in the moonlight. The room is perfectly round, with a white statue in the middle, with a plaque inscribed "Rowena Ravenclaw"\n\nStudents disperse quickly, scurrying around to inspect every inch of it. You stand back and watch, drinking in the [[clean, comfort of the room.]]

You gape at the busy street that unfolds before you from the back alley of the old tavern you're led into. The little boy's head bobs away, swallowed by a swarm of pointed hats and caged animals with too many heads, limbs, and teeth.\n\nLaughter and a static hum of conversation seep through the rattling, fizzing, and popping that rises to meet you from everywhere you [[turn|Diagon Alley Nav]].

Eager to disembark from the treacherous staircase, you scurry onto the landing. You look up the long, winding passage before you, take a deep breath, and begin to climb.\n\nYou thank your lucky stars that physical strain [[can't affect you here.]]

You position yourself directly in front of it, trying to get a better look at yourself. You look much the same as you always do, though by some trick of refraction, the moonlight looks nearly as bright as day in the reflection.\n\nYou squint and rub your eyes. But wait...that's no trick of the light...[[the rest of the reflected classroom starts swimming before your eyes.]]

Once the handful of students had gathered around them at the final landing, the girl turned and pulled once at a large, golden, eagle-shaped door knocker set in the middle of the otherwise featureless door.\n\nSome of the smaller children stepped back in surprise as the eagle blinked and stretched into life. It fixed the girl with a hard stare and said "The poor have it. The rich need it. If you eat it you die. What is it?"\n\nThe girl replied without a beat, [["Nothing."]]

A desk appears and then another, until the once-empty room is now full of desks and chairs and young students occupying them. You whip your head around to see if anything has changed behind you, but the room is as still, dark, and empty as ever.\n\nYou turn back to the phantom room, full of people, milling about, waving their wands, grinning up at the few sparks or clouds or magical traces they're able to leave behind.\n\n[[There's one empty seat.]]

They wander through the room in a daze, like they can't quite believe they're actually here. The boy is one of them, stumbling over the plush carpet, dragging his fingers along the soft velvet of the couch cushions, the thick canvas of tapestries.\n\n[[You wish you could do the same.]]

The small groups draw closer together as the air grows cooler, the walls damper with moisture from the earth above. You shiver with a sudden chill and wrap your arms around yourself as the group snakes deeper underground.\n\nAs you reach the bottom you can't help but gape at the chains hanging from ceilings, metal bars forming a series of empty cells along the hall. This must have been a dungeon, a long time ago. You wonder why it was never repurposed into something a little cozier.\n\n[[But the students don't seem to mind.]]

"//The// Harry Potter?" asked one, incredulous.\n\n"The one and only!" the other announced triumphantly.\n\n"Come off it, even if he is here you ain't seen him!"\n\n"I did! Ask anyone, ask Tom! He saw him too. I musta shook his hand about ten times. He had a scar on his fore'ead and everything!"\n\n"You're off your nut Doris, I'll believe it when I see it."\n\nThe two continued bickering as they slipped out of the store, their voices disappearing into the tumult of humanity in the streets outside. You find yourself back outside among them, having followed the pair right to the store's threshold [[without even realizing it|Diagon Alley Nav]].

On the other side, you find a room, a classroom by the looks of it, but it has the feeling and decor of a particularly eccentric common room. It's warm and reeks of about seven different kinds of incense. A fire is dying on the hearth, and in a chair beside it, a woman with huge, bug eyed glasses and a cloud of pale, tightly curled hair slumbers.\n\nYou slip in as quietly as you can, though you know [[it doesn't really matter.]]