In a three-story house near the village of Ottery St. Catchpole.
11-year-old Kyle Chopper stood at the window, carefully examining the parchment in his hands.
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HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY
Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore
(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)
Dear Mr. Chopper,
We are pleased to inform you that you have a place at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.
Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July.
Yours sincerely,
Minerva McGonagall
Deputy Headmistress
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Indeed, it was the Hogwarts acceptance letter. Ever since crossing over to this world eleven years ago, Kyle had been waiting for this day.
Several special families lived nearby in the neighborhood, which had made Kyle certain of what was to come.
Among those he knew best were Xenophilius Lovegood, editor of The Quibbler, and the Weasley family. The Weasleys in particular — with their peculiar building and distinctive family of redheads — had confirmed to Kyle the true nature of this world.
Being here also meant Kyle was born into a wizarding family in this life.
His father, Chris Chopper, served at the Ministry of Magic as Deputy Head of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures and Head of the Beast Division. With his inherited ability to communicate with magical creatures, he was also a renowned Magizoologist and one of Newt Scamander's few students.
His mother Diana worked at the Ministry too, but in the Department of Mysteries. Despite Kyle's various subtle attempts to learn more, he had no idea what she did there — his parents maintained absolute secrecy, never revealing even the smallest detail.
Their family status was respectably good — they were powerful, though not as renowned as famous surnames like Dumbledore or Grindelwald, having produced no notable historical figures.
Still, Kyle was content — having wizard parents meant attending Hogwarts wouldn't be an issue.
Unless he was a Squib.
{T/N: Muggle born from at least one wizard parent. Bad luck on the genes, pal.}
But that worry had vanished after his first magical outburst at age three.
Though he'd always known this day would come, when the owl actually tapped at his window with the envelope, he could barely contain his excitement.
He cherished that piece of parchment like a precious gem, keeping it close even while sleeping and checking it repeatedly.
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"Dear, you've been staring at that acceptance letter for three days now. Can you put it down? I promise you it's real!"
Chris looked at his son, who had begun grinning foolishly again, and spoke with mild exasperation.
"Don't forget we arranged to go to Diagon Alley with the Weasleys today. Don't keep them waiting."
"Yes, Dad, I'm coming." Kyle hastily tucked away the well-worn Hogwarts letter, jumped to his feet, and knocked on a nearby wooden post, "Groot, I'm leaving."
A small green creature immediately popped out and waved at him.
Kyle's home housed few magical creatures — just Groot the Bowtruckle and a Kneazle named Tom.
Despite his position as Deputy Head of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, Chris deliberately kept few creatures at home. Even Groot and Tom remained only because they stubbornly refused to leave.
It wasn't that he disliked magical creatures; rather, he believed they shouldn't be kept by wizards. Any creature kept at home, he insisted, was merely a pet.
On this point, the middle-aged gentleman — known for his gentle demeanor and reputation as something of a pushover at the Ministry — was unshakeable.
His view had Newt Scamander's support.
Newt also believed magical creatures belonged in nature and lived by this principle. The numerous creatures in his magical suitcase were there solely due to Newt's unique constitution.
Kyle knew this firsthand, having met the old man several times.
Like a certain mysterious death-related schoolboy, Newt Scamander possessed a remarkable gift. Kyle vividly remembered walking in the garden with the old man at age five, watching as a Diricawl dove straight into Newt's arms.
Diricawls, masters of Apparition, were peculiar creatures. Though not particularly clever, and unlike most magical creatures in that they didn't actively hide, they possessed extremely keen territorial instincts and danger awareness.
The moment they detect wizards or other threatening creatures approaching, they vanish instantly.
In "Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them", the first line about Diricawls states they can only be observed from afar, never approached. Yet this Diricawl had somehow managed to land precisely in Newt's arms.
Simply incredible.
Then there was the time when he was seven, again out with Newt, when they encountered a Salamander.
At eight, an injured unicorn.
At ten, a Fire Crab that nearly became a cauldron.
Anyway...
Among these magical creatures, some had escaped after being smuggled into magical Britain, others had wandered in mysteriously, but they always managed to appear around Newt in the most inexplicable ways.
And this was with him staying at home!
Back when he traveled the world with his suitcase returning magical creatures to their habitats, the situation had been far more dramatic.
For every magical creature he returned home, another dozen would crash into him. No wonder his suitcase became so full.
With such a special talent, it's no surprise Newt was blacklisted from entering almost every Ministry of Magic.
After all, these magical creatures weren't exactly friendly before meeting Newt — especially the injured ones and those with young. They would explode at the slightest provocation.
Imagine peacefully enjoying afternoon tea on the street when suddenly a rampaging Manticore or Nundu appears beside you... Just the thought is enough to break out in a cold sweat.
So really, what's Grindelwald, what's Voldemort? Dark Lords still having to do their own dirty work? Please. Pathetic.
Look at Uncle Newt — if he wants something gone, he doesn't need to lift a finger. Just buy a plane ticket, stay for three to five days, drink some coffee, enjoy the scenery, and that's enough. Plus, he doesn't even have to deal with the consequences.
That's why Grandma Tina was so brilliant — single-handedly keeping Newt at home. No exaggeration to say the whole world owes her an Order of Merlin, First Class.
Though it was tough on magical Britain.
According to incomplete statistics, since Newt settled in Dorset, Ministry incidents involving magical creatures began increasing exponentially, and magical Britain mysteriously became smugglers' absolute favorite place to fence goods.
Fortunately, despite the constant stream of incidents over the years, none caused serious damage — at worst, some unfortunate souls suffered only minor injuries.
Perhaps being Newt's birthplace granted this place some mysterious protective influence.
Chris, however, wasn't quite as fortunate — his position meant regular overtime shifts dealing with these incidents.
Though from what Kyle could see, his father secretly relished every moment of it.
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Arriving outside, Kyle found both Chris standing at the door and, surprisingly, his mother Diana, who had returned early from the Ministry and was smiling at him.
Her black hair was impeccably styled, and her black robes with white trim looked both elegant and dignified. When she looked at her son, her light blue eyes were filled with tenderness.
Elegant and intellectual — this had always been Kyle's impression of his mother.
Instinctively, he turned to look at his father. Chris was somewhat handsome, with traces of his younger days still visible — they made quite a good match.
Most importantly, Chris wasn't balding. Even approaching forty, the distance between his hairline and eyebrows remained about an inch, forming a stark contrast with Mr. Weasley next door.
With such strong genes, Kyle's appearance naturally wasn't bad either. Among people he knew, he ranked at least first, already showing signs of being devastatingly handsome at his young age.
Of course, this wasn't important, and he never dwelled on it — he didn't make his living on looks after all.
"Sorry I'm late." Kyle said apologetically, walking between his parents.
"If you could put that acceptance letter away, you probably wouldn't be late. Hogwarts won't leave Britain just because you didn't take good care of your letter." Chris said teasingly, clearly pleased with his attempt at humor.
Kyle, though not finding it particularly funny, politely tugged at the corners of his mouth to humor his father.
Fortunately, the moment didn't linger.
"Alright, it's getting late, we need to leave." Diana smiled gently, interrupting the awkward father-son interaction. She took Kyle's hand and added, "There's a lot to buy for school, we need to hurry, and it wouldn't be polite to keep the Weasleys waiting."
With that, accompanied by a sharp crack, she disappeared with Kyle.
Seeing this, Chris quickly Apparated after them.
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