1 Ch. 1

Finished with all my classwork for the week, I quickly packed a bag and excitedly made my way to the tram station. I decided to take the hour-long trip down the coast to spend the weekend with my parents. I've not seen them all semester, and a surprise visit would be a pleasant surprise for my folks.

Finding a corner seat not surrounded by people, I settle down and make myself comfortable. I put my earbuds in to ward off people from trying to talk to me and continue reading Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets on my phone. I've seen all the movies several times, but this is the first time I've actually read the books. I can honestly say I'm enjoying them more than the movie versions.

I couldn't stop the smile on my face after reading about how Lockhart had dwarfs dress as cupids and barging into classes delivering Valentines to students. They should have included that in the movie.

As I scroll to the next page, I notice a dark-haired man in a stylish suit taking the seat beside me. I do my best to ignore the older man and the fact he decided to take the seat right next to me.

After several minutes, I catch a glimpse of the strange man glancing over at my phone. I can tell the man wants to talk with me, but I've never been a fan of striking up a conversation with random people. I would sooner not find out how weird others are.

As the man continues to pointedly look between my phone and my face I gave in. The moment I remove my earbuds, the stranger speaks up in a jovial tone.

"Wonderful series. Truly works of art," the stranger said with a smile. "I must admit, I greatly enjoyed the bits involving Gilderoy Lockhart. His entertainment factor made him the real star of the book."

I couldn't stop myself from letting out a bark of laughter at the man's joy-filled commentary. It was like this strange man has a personal connection with the blond fraud from the fantasy books. "You know," I humorously begin, "I think you have a point if you can look past the fact he is the biggest waste of magic since Peter Pettigrew."

"No, nononono," the stranger quickly moved to refute my statement. "Lockhart had much more depth than most people realize. Especially those that judge the books based on their cinema equivalent. Lockhart was self-made, good-looking, and very skilled at magic and literature. He just let his fame erode his desire to maintain proper magical practice," the man lectured.

Another laugh escapes me at the old man's argument. "I admit to not having read all the books, but there is no denying Lockhart's lack of skill at everything except being a con-artist. If anything, Lockhart was just a flashy and charming villain."

The older man's brows drop as he gives me a disapproving gaze. That look right there is while I don't like talking to strangers. You never know what kind of crazy you'll engage in a conversation with.

"Now, my dear boy," the older man began, "JKR created a backstory for Lockhart that rivals any of the main characters. Why..."

"That may be," I swiftly interrupt, "but that doesn't prevent Lockhart from being a talentless hack that leeched off the skills of others." I look back to my phone screen as I start to dig my earbuds out of my pocket. I should have just ignored the man in the first place.

"Tell me," the stranger said with a nod of his head, "what would you think about Lockhart if he really was skilled enough to fulfill his claims?"

With a silent prayer to the Being of Isolation, I look over at the sharply dressed man. "Even if Lockhart was as skilled as he claims, his attention-seeking and braggart ways would taint anything he touches." In hopes of personal-space-intruder leaving me alone, I decided to explain further. "There are tons of celebrities' that are well-loved and recognized by thousands of people. And they don't have to resort to regularly throwing their feats in your face. Lockhart went about it all wrong. That, and his lack of skill."

"I would really like to see that," the older man said.

"Yup," I agreed with a nod of my head. "Me too," I say as I place my earbuds back in.

Bursting out in an echoing laugh, the suit-wearing man pointedly looks at me until I look up from my phone. The first thing I see is a wicked smile stretched across the man's lined face. An inescapable feeling to flee from the area overcomes me, but I can't seem to move a muscle.

"Good luck," the man says just before he snaps his fingers.

Like a flash, everything goes dark before light fills the world again. I become dizzy and have to lean into the marble countertop as a surge of vertigo overcomes me. I hold on and stare at the sink in front of me until the dizziness calms down.

It's only then that I realize I'm standing up. Even more confusing is the fact I'm holding on to a sink that has no right being in a tram. With my eyes still looking down, I can see my bare stomach. Or rather, a bare stomach. The flat and hairless body part doesn't look like the chubby belly I had this morning. Even the skin tone is slightly off.

With a sense of dread building up in my gut, I slowly raise my gaze. The torso in the mirror matches what I imaged the flat stomach should look like. Quickly looking up at where my face should be, a startled blond-haired man with deep panicked eyes jerks his own head up.

With a startled yelp, I jump back from the counter and step into a puddle of water. As my leg goes sliding out from under me, I fail to grab hold of anything that can prevent my fall to the ground.

There's another flash of darkness as my head makes contact with the stone floor of the bathroom.