Arthur Belmont-Prince and The Cursed Mirror: Harry Potter Fanfiction

The memory of that day was as vivid as if it had been painted across the sky. I found myself in the quiet solitude of my room, the incident replaying in my mind like a scene from a movie I didn't remember auditioning for. The day I unintentionally snagged the title of the school's resident freak show. Imagine this: I was, a mere lad in a classroom so excruciatingly normal that even the dust motes seemed bored, called upon to answer the kind of question that could stump even the most scholarly of scholars. The task? To identify the mysterious objects adorning the table before me. Now, to a seven-year-old whose expertise lay more in the realm of imagining dragon-slaying adventures than academic pursuits, this was akin to being asked to solve quantum physics with a stick and a piece of string.

In a moment of sheer desperation—a silent plea to the universe for an escape hatch or, at the very least, for the ground to kindly swallow me whole—the table decided to take matters into its own legs and performed a most spectacular dive, right there in the middle of the lesson.

And who do they blame? Not the laws of physics, which had taken a momentary leave of absence, nor the sturdiness of the table, which had proven to be more theoretical than practical. Nope, you guessed it—the kid who had just been sent to the principal's office for a harmless, albeit poorly timed, experiment that might have involved a bit too much baking soda and vinegar in the science lab. Me. Despite the teacher's lukewarm attempt to dismiss the event as a fluke, the die was cast. I was branded "that kid"—the one seemingly capable of causing chaos with a mere glance. 

I tried to barricade myself from the world, to hide away from whispers and pointed fingers. But, as is often the case, life—and especially my mum—had other plans.

"Mum," I whispered, a word heavy with the kind of dread usually reserved for realizing you've left your homework on the kitchen table on the day of submission. She appeared in the doorway, embodying the calm of someone who has faced down dragons, or at least, the laundry after a week's holiday.

"What's brewing, Arthur?" she asked, her voice cutting through the fog of anxiety like a lighthouse beam through a particularly metaphoric sea mist.

I hesitated, my confession stumbled out of me, shy and awkward as a teenager at their first dance. "I think... I'm not exactly... normal," I managed, the words alien upon my tongue, exposed and vulnerable.

 My mother's response was as immediate as it was devoid of surprise. Instead of gasps or fainting, she simply pulled up a chair, her demeanor suggesting this was no more alarming than discussing the weather. "Normal, my dear Arthur, is just a setting on a washing machine. Normal is overrated" she quipped, a mischievous glint in her eyes that made it hard not to crack a smile. "Besides, in this family? Normal was never really an option."

With a wisdom that cut through my fears like a hot knife through butter, she reached for my hand, her touch grounding, a lifeline in the midst of my self-imposed storm her grip firm and reassuring. "Arthur, look at me," she said, and I did, finding her eyes filled with an unspoken understanding. "You've been given a gift, maybe a challenging one, but it's a part of who you are. And who you are," she squeezed my hand for emphasis, "is extraordinary, never forget that."

"What if I can't control it?" My voice was a whisper, betraying my lingering doubts.

"Then we'll figure it out, together." Her voice was a fortress, her determination a beacon. "You're not alone in this, not by a long shot. We're a team, remember? Team Weird-But-Wonderful."

It was then, with my mum's unwavering belief lighting the way, that I started to see things differently. Maybe being different wasn't a curse but a chance to forge my own path, a path that led now to Hogwarts and it will lead even beyond. A path where I could be me, magic and all.

With a newfound resolve, I faced the dawn of my departure to Hogwarts, not as the kid who caused chaos with a glance, but as Arthur, the boy ready to embrace his magic, ready to learn, and more than anything, ready to prove that being different was indeed something extraordinary.

My morning wanderings brought me to the kitchen, where a feast worthy of a hero's send-off awaited, courtesy of Missy's culinary magic, and there, standing like a silent challenge, was the suitcase my globetrotting uncle had sent over. I hadn't met the guy yet, but if his gift was anything to go by, he was the kind of uncle who'd teach you lock-picking instead of fishing.

The suitcase he sent, equipped with the "Capacious extremis" charm (because why use a boring old bag when you can bend space?), was my first real taste of magic. The Ministry of Magic wasn't exactly thrilled about these charms, but here it was, my ticket to smuggling an entire library to school.

Wiping the last crumbs of breakfast from my mouth, I realized the big moment had finally arrived, ready to tackle the day ahead, I remembered Iris's words from our chat last night. She'd mentioned, with a mysterious twinkle in her eye, that she'd be setting off for Hogwarts earlier than me. "Gotta beat the dawn to catch the worm, or in my case, the faculty meeting," she'd said, leaving me puzzled and slightly amused at the prospect of teachers hunting worms.

Now, as the realization hit that she had indeed vanished into the early morning mist,

 I turned to Missy for some guidance. "Missy," I called out, half expecting her to pop out of the toaster and sure enough, with a faint 'pop' that was more polite cough than grand entrance, there she was, holding a piece of parchment that seemed to thrum with anticipation. "Young Master, your Aunt entrusted me with the task of handing you this." She extended her hand, revealing the ticket Iris had prepared for me, its edges flickering slightly as if charged with a subtle magic. "Platform 9¾," it read – a name that sounded more like a punchline than a location.

Missy nodded, her expression serious. "Your Aunt said it's crucial, young Master."

Cool, except for the tiny detail of having no clue how to get there. "So, how do I get to this Platform 9¾?" I wondered aloud, half expecting to need a map and a compass or maybe just a good secret word.

That's when Tipsy, the orther house elf with a smile that could light up the darkest dungeon, popped in. "Leave it to me, young master. First trip's on the house," he boasted, practically bouncing with excitement.

I pondered the etiquette of tipping a house elf for a ride—what's the going rate for a bit of magic these days? But Missy's look told me I was wading into murky waters. Note to self: Look up house elf tipping customs later.

"Alright, Tipsy, let's hit the road," I said, bracing myself for whatever wizarding version of Uber this was going to be.

Snap! One moment I'm in the kitchen, and the next, I'm dodging commuters and tourists at King's Cross, the heart of London's mundane hustle and bustle. The place was a sea of people, none of whom seemed to think disappearing platforms were part of the daily commute.

King's Cross looked like any other station, Numbers and schedules, trains coming and going, but no sign saying, "This way to the Hogwarts Express."

I approached a guard, picking one who looked friendly enough, engaged in what appeared to be a thrilling conversation with a lady about the weather. "Excuse me, could you point me to Platform 9¾?" I asked, trying to sound as non-magical as possible.

The guard gave me a look that said, "Nice try, kid." Clearly, asking for directions to a secret wizard platform was the muggle equivalent of asking where the restroom was in Romanian.

Wandering around, I overheard a couple of people complaining about the yearly invasion of the "weird brigade." Following their scandalized gazes led me to a group of kids who looked like they were on a field trip to Narnia, complete with pets that definitely didn't come from PetSmart.

There was my in. If Hogwarts had a welcoming committee, this was probably it—kids with owls that stared down passersby with a judgmental squint and cats that seemed too dignified for mere pet status.

Joining the procession, I pretended to be utterly engrossed in my ticket, as if it contained the secrets of the universe. Or at least, directions to a platform that defied architectural logic.

"Lost, or just admiring the architecture?" A familiar voice chimed in beside me. I looked up, half expecting to see someone from my non-magical life, only to find Caitlyn Ollivander, with her striking silver eyes shimmering with amusement. "Running into walls is more of a second-year activity, Arthur."

"Yeah, is it that obvious?" I asked, feeling a mix of relief and embarrassment. My hand subconsciously patted the suitcase, as if to reassure myself it was still there.

She laughed, a sound that felt like it belonged to the chaos and wonder of Diagon Alley itself. "Only to someone who's done it a few too many times herself. I'm heading to the platform now. Care to crash a wall with me?"

Caitlyn led me to the barrier between platforms nine and ten, her confidence and familiarity with the magical world acting as the perfect guide. "Just walk straight at the barrier. Don't slow down, and definitely don't close your eyes," she advised with a wink. "You'll miss the fun part."

The thought of colliding with solid brick was less than appealing, but Caitlyn was already moving, her stride as unwavering as her grin, and as I stared at the barrier between platforms nine and ten,the gateway to my new life. I couldn't help but think, "This has got to be some kind of joke." I mean, seriously, running headfirst into solid metal? That's the kind of thing that gets you a one-way ticket to the hospital, not to a magical school. But then again, after finding out I was a wizard just a few weeks ago, I guess the rulebook for normal went out the window. I remembered all those times I'd felt out of place, blamed for things out of my control – I'd wished for a place where I'd fit in, and as I stood here , suitcase in hand and a sleepy raven on my shoulder, I realized Hogwarts might just be it. With a deep breath that tasted like adventure (and a slight hint of the bacon from breakfast), I followed.

The sensation was like diving into a pool of cool water, except without the wet part. One second, I was bracing for impact, and the next, I was stepping onto a platform that buzzed with magic. The Hogwarts Express stood before us, a scarlet marvel that promised the beginning of something extraordinary.

Caitlyn was beside me, clearly enjoying my wide-eyed wonder. "Welcome to Platform 9¾, Arthur. Hogwarts is just a train ride away now."

The platform buzzed with anticipation of a new term at Hogwarts, a chaotic symphony of students, owls, and the occasional toad. Amidst this magical mayhem, Caitlyn's laughter was a beacon, promising not just a journey to Hogwarts but an adventure. "Just remember," she joked, "if we find a three-headed dog, I call dibs on naming it."

Before I could ponder the logistics of pet ownership at Hogwarts, Elias North crashed through the crowd, his arrival as dramatic as one of his infamous pranks.

"Elias North," I said, as he skidded to a halt in front of us, dusting off an imaginary speck of dirt from his robe. "I should've known you'd turn up at the last second."

Elias flashed a grin, mischief twinkling in his eyes. "And miss the chance to escort the great Arthur to Hogwarts? Never. Besides, I hear they've added a new course on 'Creative Problem Solving.' Sounds tailor-made for us, doesn't it?"

Caitlyn chuckled, shaking her head. "With you two on the case, I'm sure it'll be an... interesting year."

Her comment made me pause, a thought suddenly striking me. "Hold on, you two know each other?" It was a small world, but the idea that Elias and Caitlyn had crossed paths before today hadn't crossed my mind.

Elias and Caitlyn exchanged a glance, a silent conversation passing between them before Caitlyn turned back to me with a smirk, her smirk widened as she leaned back, clearly enjoying the chance to spill the beans on Elias's less-than-smooth wand selection process. "You know, most people might get a few sparks, maybe a puff of smoke if they're really not meshing with the wand. Elias? He managed to summon a mini hurricane in the middle of Ollivanders. Gave a whole new meaning to 'making a splash'."

Elias, far from embarrassed, wore his misadventure like a badge of honor. "What can I say? I have a knack for the dramatic. Besides, it was a hot day. I figured the shop could use a bit of cooling down. And before you ask, no, I didn't do it on purpose. But if I had, it would've been spectacular."

I couldn't help but laugh, picturing the scene: Elias, wand in hand, accidentally unleashing a tempest indoors, while bewildered shoppers and a possibly exasperated Mr. Ollivander navigated the sudden indoor storm. "So, what happened next? Did Mr. Ollivander hand you an umbrella with your wand purchase?"

"More like a stern warning about the proper use of magical items and a discreet suggestion to invest in a good mop," Elias retorted, his grin unfazed by the memory. "But in the end, I found my match. Turns out, it liked a bit of chaos as much as I do."

Caitlyn rolled her eyes, but her smile suggested she found the whole ordeal as amusing as I did. "It was quite the spectacle. Made your wand selection look downright mundane by comparison, Arthur."

As the chaos of Platform 9¾ swirled around us—a veritable circus of magic, luggage, and creatures that defied explanation—I couldn't help but feel a tickle of excitement, or maybe it was just the raven on my shoulder getting comfortable.

As the Hogwarts Express let out a whistle—a bold proclamation that cut through the clamor of goodbyes and the hustle of last-second baggage scrambles—We stumbled upon a compartment that seemed to have been been waiting just for us. 

"Here's the plan," Elias explained, leaning toward the compartment entrance as if about to unveil the world's greatest secret. "We ace our classes, uncover at least three hidden passages, and—"

"—try not to get expelled in the first week," Caitlyn interjected, a smile playing at her lips.

**Author's Note:**

Hey, magical explorers!

This chapter was a blast to write—it's the kind of mix of nostalgia, humor, and excitement that always gets me pumped. Arthur's journey to Hogwarts is finally kicking off, and with characters like Caitlyn and Elias along for the ride, I can already tell it's going to be a whirlwind adventure filled with more than a few surprises.

I wanted to capture that blend of nervousness and anticipation we all feel when stepping into something new, especially something as daunting and exciting as Hogwarts. The scenes at King's Cross and Platform 9¾ are some of my favorites—there's just something about that magical gateway that never gets old, no matter how many times we visit it in our imaginations.

Arthur's mix of awe and apprehension, combined with his growing confidence, really mirrors that feeling of standing on the edge of something big—like the start of a new school year or moving to a new place. And I hope that through his eyes, you can feel that mix of emotions too.

Caitlyn and Elias add just the right amount of camaraderie and comic relief to the scene—because let's face it, what's a journey without a few laughs and a bit of chaos? Their dynamic with Arthur is something I'm excited to explore more as the story unfolds.

I'd love to hear what you think! How are you liking the characters? Do you feel the same sense of excitement and nerves as Arthur does? And what do you think will happen next on the Hogwarts Express? Your thoughts and feedback mean the world to me, so please drop a comment and share your ideas, predictions, or just your favorite moments from the chapter.

Thank you for being on this journey with Arthur and me. There's so much more magic ahead, and I can't wait to dive into it together!

Until next time, keep believing in magic and may your adventures be as thrilling as a ride on the Hogwarts Express!