HL, Pokémon, SV, Sims something else(?

July 13, 1890

Dear Diary

I can't find the right words to explain what happened today, but I'll try my best because I want to tell someone, and I can't. Today was my 15th birthday. I was in the fields playing with Sepulchria, as usual, when some men in strange robes appeared and asked me even stranger questions: about my age, if I'd seen any strangers doing unusual things, and why I was doing... listen carefully because I couldn't believe it... MAGIC! I was doing magic! I didn't understand what was happening, even though I was right there. Then they escorted me to an alley in London. There was a fireplace with green fire coming out, and they asked me to go inside. I don't know how to explain it, but I ended up inside a building. It was enormous. There were tons of people, all dressed the same, going back and forth as if they were busy working. I asked them what this place was, and they told me it was the Ministry of Magic in the United Kingdom, and that they had brought me there because of a problem they had detected months earlier in an area inhabited by Muggles, people who aren't capable of doing magic.

They took me to speak with who I thought was the head of the place, but they call him the Minister of Magic. "Sir Faris Spavin"

He calmly asked me my name and why I had been brought here. One of the gentleman who escorted me replied, "Apparently, I was practicing magic outside of school." And I asked, "Is there a school where they teach magic? Why have I never been there?" I couldn't say what surprised me more: the reaction of the other wizards and witches accompanying Mr. Spavin, or the fact that the school in question is called Hogwarts. I didn't understand what the warts of a Hog had to do with this or why they called it that. But apparently, they were confused because my letter never arrived. If it had, I'd already be in my fifth year. Mr. Spavin decided that while this whole matter was being sorted out, I would have to wait for my acceptance letter and, especially, not to tell anyone what happened.

After that, they took me home. The truth is, when I arrived, I was bewildered, trying to process what had happened, and my grandmother's scolding for disappearing like that didn't help. I guess I just have to wait for my letter to arrive.

By the way, my grandfather gave me a painting kit. I love it.

July 27, 1890

Dear Diary:

Finally, my letter arrived. When we finished breakfast, someone came to the door. It was a man named Eleazar Fig. He said he was a professor at Hogwarts and handed me the letter. I was so happy. He explained to my grandparents about Hogwarts and that it wasn't a bad joke. I also explained what happened on my birthday and why I "disappeared." My grandmother tried to process it, but she didn't understand anything. On the other hand, my grandfather was surprised and happy. He didn't doubt the truth of Professor Fig's words, although he also asked why I received my letter so late and not when I was Eleven, as should have been. Between you and me, I think he knows more than he's letting on.

Professor Fig mentioned he'll be coming over every day to help me catch up and not fall behind. So, you know, if I don't write anything, it's because I'll be studying.

Who would have thought, I'm finally going to be a witch!

August 31, 1890

Dear Diary:

The day I start at Hogwarts is just around the corner, and since I haven't bought any supplies yet, I went with Professor Fig and Grandpa Eddie to Diagon Alley.

It was wonderful; there were so many shops selling all sorts of things: books, creatures that could only exist in children's imaginations, wands, robes. There was also a bank called Gringotts, which we had to go to in order to exchange Muggle money for wizarding money. We bought everything I needed, including an owl that my grandpa gave me, very useful for correspondence. I named him Meliodas; in case I didn't mention it, I really like Arthurian legend. After buying everything, we went back home, and all that was left was to wait until tomorrow. I'm so nervous!

September 1, 1890

Dear Diary:

The day has arrived; today I'm leaving for Hogwarts. I said goodbye to my family: my grandparents, my siblings, and my mother, to whom I promised I would find a way to help her become herself again, to heal her. The truth is, because of all my luggage and because it's already past time to board the Hogwarts Express, my journey will have to be by carriage, pulled by more Sepulchrias. I don't really know what they are, but I suppose I'll learn at Hogwarts. The journey was also delayed a bit because Professor Fig had to wait for an acquaintance. I have to go now; I'll tell you more later.

°°°

The aftermath has arrived, and you won't believe what happened. We were talking to Mr. Osric, Fig's acquaintance, and we told him about my joining the fifth year. He was surprised, but he remembered hearing about me at the Ministry. He also mentioned his son, Gregory, who is a prefect and also in his fifth year. He mentioned a goblin named Ranrok, who seems to be dangerous. Following that, he mentioned Professor Fig's wife, Miriam. Apparently, she passed away not long ago, and she sent Mr. Osric something she had been investigating.

I'm not sure what it was, but it had a glow that neither Professor Fig nor Mr. Osric could see. When I picked it up, it opened, and inside was a key. Fig told me not to touch it, just in case. Then a dragon attacked our carriage, killing Mr. Osric, and we were falling into the void. Luckily for you, Meliodas caught you and brought you back to Hogwarts. As for Fig and me, the key was a Portkey that took us to some ruins in the Scottish Highlands, and the professor mentioned that his wife was searching for a type of magic that disappeared centuries ago, called Ancient Magic. Exploring the ruins, I found a passage with the same symbol as the Portkey. When we crossed it, it took us back to Gringotts, where a goblin was sleeping at his desk. He told us that the key led us to vault 12. As we headed there, I saw another goblin, quite different. He was a guard with a bracelet that glowed red, as did his eyes, very similar to the necklace of the dragon that attacked our carriage. I immediately told the professor. When we arrived at vault 12, the goblin closed the door and left us there, which the professor saw as an excellent opportunity to learn a charm: Revelio. I used it to find a door that led us to a dark room filled with columns. There, I saw a glow on the floor, which made a statue appear. It was lying on the floor, and it seemed like a reflection. When I used Revelio, the statue appeared to be right in front of me and reacted to the light. Then I learned Lumos and guided the statue so its silhouette matched its reflection. This was a bad idea because the statue started attacking us, and then more statues appeared. Fig thought it was a good idea to use them to practice a defensive spell: Protego. Also, to practice a spell to stun them: Stupefy.

It was admirable to see Fig defeat the statues with different spells and combinations; on the other hand, it was a little embarrassing to see me casting basic spells at them. I didn't know if I was actually hurting them. But when all the statues were destroyed, Professor Fig disappeared into the darkness. I didn't know what to do; I was scared, and the only spells I knew weren't anything special. Then, as I walked in the gloom, I could see traces of light that led me to another light on the ground, which turned into another statue. That infuriated me. I couldn't do anything, without offensive spells or Fig by my side. My end seemed already written. Anyway, I decided to line up the statues, since there was no other way out, so I fought, scared, but I fought. I tried to remember some of the spells the professor had used on the statues, despite remembering them, I couldn't cast them, so it was time to fight to the death.

When the fight ended, an entrance opened, leading me to another vault, this one brighter, perhaps lead-colored. There were pillars, a birdbath in the center of the room, and a door at the far end, similar to the one I had discovered with Revelio. It was a relief to hear Professor Fig's voice coming from it. Returning to the birdbath, there was a kind of inkwell floating with a liquid inside. The professor poured the liquid into the Pensieve—that's what it's called. We saw a memory of two wizards who mentioned a path that only someone who sees traces of ancient magic could follow. Unfortunately, I fit that description. And to make matters worse, some goblins, including the one with eyes that shone like the dragon's necklace, appeared searching for what we had found, led by Ranrok, the goblin Osric had mentioned. The truth is, I would have liked to reason with him and just tell him about the Pensieve, but Fig said no. We were attacked by him, but luckily we managed to escape and resume our journey to Hogwarts.

On our way, Professor Fig told me about the Hogwarts house sorting ceremony: Gryffindor for the brave and noble, apparently he was there and I ruled it out after what happened with the statues; Slytherin for the cunning and ambitious, which Fig ruled out because my parents are Muggles; Hufflepuff for the hardworking and loyal, Mr. Osric also belonged to that house; and Ravenclaw for the wise and witty.

April 21, 1890

Dear Diary: I decided I needed a place to write down my thoughts. My memories of the past haunt me and prevent me from thinking about my present. My brothers can't find a moment of peace, my grandparents are exhausted, and I haven't heard Mother's voice in years.

School is getting more and more... ugh, I can't find the right word to describe the atmosphere with a teacher who has absolutely no interest in teaching, and classmates who are arrogant and good for nothing. My Grandfather says it's all bark and no bite... and he's not wrong.

April 24, 1890

Dear Diary: I admit I enjoy writing my thoughts in you. It's good to have a place to express myself without anyone judging me. Speaking of judging, my older brother, Anthony—I'll explain because I'm sure you don't know him—had a fight with Bernard Morton. That wooden spoon is nothing more than a Mutton Shunter when he talks about our mother that way, so he got what he deserved. Although I don't think his parents will be very happy to find out about the fight.

April 27, 1890

Dear Diary: Today Sepulchria visited me. To be honest, I don't know what she is. She looks like a dark horse with a skeletal appearance and wings like a bat's. I really enjoy her visits, but the problem is that no one in my family can see her. Callum says I'm crazy, and my grandmother is annoyed by the idea of ​​bringing food to something "imaginary." I don't know why the others can't see her, but she seems happy to have me there. I truly appreciate her.

May 8, 1890

Dear Diary: I had that same nightmare again, the one that keeps my siblings and me from sleeping. More than a nightmare, it's like reliving a painful memory from my childhood: my siblings' screams, my parents' cries, and the laughter of those maniacs. It depresses me to think that that fateful day was the last time I heard my parents' voices.

Apparently, I wasn't the only one who had that nightmare. My little brother, Irving, had it too—his screams and seeing him running down the stairs... I wish I could do something to help him, Anthony, Callum, and our mother.

May 17, 1890

Dear Diary, Apparently, my presence and advanced knowledge of the class exasperated Professor Baxter, so he kicked me out of class today and he didn't expect me back tomorrow... or ever, it seems. Although it annoyed me a little, it was my grandfather who was really furious. He told me that I'll learn more on my own than with a teacher like Baxter. The truth is, I've been thinking that for months.

Things at school have been really weird these last few weeks: Chelsea Pembroke and her friends, whose names don't deserve to be remembered, were being a nuisance because they clearly had nothing better to do, and suddenly they started flying through the air and spinning at high speeds. From the ground, it looked fun. When they landed, they blamed me, as if I could do that! And even if I could, I would have sent them flying all the way to Ireland or North America.

May 25, 1890

Dear Diary: I really enjoy studying on my own. I've been going to the library a lot lately. It's not very big, but it has its charm, and lots of books. The best part is that Mr. Fletcher lets me take any books I want home. Of course, I have to return them, but it's even better when the librarian and your grandfather have been good friends for years. Although, I hadn't really thought about how young my grandfather looks compared to his age. I hope I look that young when I'm his age. But getting back to Mr. Fletcher, he had some things to do and asked me to look after the library for a few moments. I was actually going to do it gladly, though my enthusiasm turned to displeasure when, while arranging some books, one of the shelves started to tip over. I wanted to stop it, but I couldn't. What surprised me, though, was that it just stayed suspended in mid-air; not a single book fell. Then it returned to its original position. I didn't understand how it happened, but the good thing is that no books were damaged, and Mr. Fletcher was pleased he had trusted me.

I still don't understand how the bookcase didn't fall.

June 13, 1890

Dear Diary: I had that nightmare again, and it seems my siblings did too. They're very frequent; they've been for years, and I think they'll continue for many more. It was very early in the morning, not even morning yet; it still seemed like night, though not for long. So we went outside and looked at the starry sky. When the sky started to light up, I decided to make breakfast. I thought that might improve my siblings' mood and surprise my grandparents.