He woke up in a cold sweat, a cold sweat from another dream he had. But he knew it wasn't a dream; it was real. It was as real as the monitors that softly beeped to keep track of his vitals. Another day in the bed, in that white room, all alone, with those same nurses who never said a word. All alone. With not even a single person in his family to visit…..yeah, his "Family." He hated them, everyone.
But something about today seems different. He expected to feel the same sheets and see the same white walls and bright overhead lights. But instead, he felt…grass and dirt, and he could see the…sky? He instantly shot up from his spot and saw that he was outside in some kind of open field! On one side was a town, on the other a forest.
How did he get here? Why was he here? He should be in the hospital, hooked up on life support, but he was out here…. wherever here was. And….he was….smaller? Honestly, he can't even remember how old he was when he was admitted. He was there for so long that his sense of time all melded to the point he couldn't tell a minute from a year. Though he could tell he was younger, judging from the size of his hands and the height he stood at.
Wait…..he stood…he stood…..he could stand! He could move, breathe, live, and be healthy! It had been so long that he had forgotten what it was like just to be a regular person. It was so foreign yet so nostalgic and euphoric!
But now wasn't the time to be admiring his new, healthy body; now was the time to figure out even a bit of what was going on and where he was. So he made his way to the small town to see if he was even still in America or any place that still spoke English. After a brisk walk and being able to enjoy the senses he previously had little use of, he made it into the town and was hit right away with what he could only describe as a time culture shock!
Sure, he had been in the hospital for years on end, but even he knew this wasn't the modern age! Everything was so… old, and the people were dressed so…. strangely. It was like he had been dropped into an old movie, minus the black-and-white filter. It was so strange and surreal that he thought he was dreaming, but he had never dreamed before, so he knew this was real.
He took a moment to look at himself in a nearby shop window and saw that he was indeed younger-looking and smaller. From what he could guess, he was around 11 years old, give or take. He was also wearing the same old-fashioned clothes everyone else seemed to wear, but he was older and didn't look as well-kept, making it seem as though he was poor.
Speaking of old, people around here also spoke in a very old dialect and with a thick accent. If he didn't know any better, he thought they sounded British, but he wouldn't know any better. He had never been out of the States and barely had any human interaction until recently. Just then, a man walked by and dropped a newspaper at his feet. He quickly scooped it up and read the title, seeing it was published in London, England, in the Spring of April 1969.
So not only was he in a different country altogether, but he was also at a different point in history…..how and why?! Before he could figure this out or even properly digest all this information, a very angry British man burst out of the shop from where he was standing in front and began to shout at him while waving around a wooden rod.
"Oi ya little street rat! Get away from my shop, ya hear!" He yelled.
Still confused and terrified, he just stood there and mumbled out, dumbfounded, "Wha-I-huh?"
"You're scaring away the customers with yer loitering! Scram!" He yelled louder while approaching threateningly.
"But, I–" He could only babble out before the old, angry man struck him over his head with the wooden rod.
"I told you to beat it!, He yelled while looming over him.
Lying on the ground in pain, grasping his head and feeling the world around him spin and blur, the only clear thing he could see was the fat old man's alcohol-red face. Through the pain, he felt anger toward the man! Red Hot searing anger! He wanted the man just to disappear! And then it happened.
His wish has been granted, but not in the way he expected. As the man braised the rod over his head to strike him while he was down, it suddenly transformed into a snake and bit the man in his hand. The man screamed in pain while throwing the snake away, watching as it slithered into the grimy street. The man clutched his hand and watched as it quickly turned purple, and soon, his entire body changed the same way.
In mere seconds, the man turned entirely the shade of Violet, but if that wasn't enough, he quickly started to balloon up, much like a balloon, until he was perfectly spherical. But instead of floating away like he almost looked to do, he instead lost his footing and started to roll and bounce down the street they were on until he looked like a bouncy ball being thrown down a hillside.
As the many townsfolk watched in amazement and horror at this, he decided to make himself scarce before anyone thought or realized he might have been the cause. So, taking refuge in an alleyway, he sat down on an empty storage box and contemplated what he had just seen. How did it happen? Why did it happen? Did he do it? No, it couldn't have been him! He may have wished for the man to go away, but he certainly didn't expect it to happen or like that. What did this all mean?
As he sat there deep in existential thought, he didn't notice when somebody came inside the alleyway and stood in his path. He finally took notice of the person standing right in front of him and shot his head up. Standing in front of him was a very old man wearing a long, elegant robe seemingly embroidered with sparkles and pearls and a strange hat upon his head. He had a long, flowing beard that was cast around his body like a sparkling sea of silver white and tied off midway. Even his hair flowed back in the same fashion.
He smiled warmly at him and said, "I'm glad to have found you. Thought I lost you there for a moment."
"Who are you, and what do you want?" He asked the old man.
"I saw what you did back there," He replied with little explanation.
He realized what the old man meant and asked back, "I….I did that?"
"You didn't know?" The kind old man sat back gently, only to get a head shake. He stroked his beard and then stated, "In that case, let me ask you something." He tilted his head as he waited for the question, listening as the old man asked him, "Have you ever heard of Witches and Wizards? Or even magic."
He cocked an eyebrow and dismissively told him, "Don't tell me you're going to say that's what I did?" The kind old man nodded and narrowed both of his eyes with a disbelieving expression, telling him, "Okay, now I just think you're crazy."
"I can assure you they are not; it's all very true." The old man tried to convince him, and without a second thought, he pulled out a long piece of wood, pointed it somewhere in the alleyway, and said, "Accio."
Within a second, an alley cat came hurtling in and was caught in his opposite hand, where he gently let it go.
Amazed and shocked by this, but still in denial, he jumped up on his box and exclaimed, "But I thought magic and all that was nothing but a bunch of hoo-ha!"
"I can assure you that it isn't; it's all true," he said with a chuckle.
Putting some pieces together and coming to the only viable conclusion, he asked the old wizard, "So am I in trouble?"
The wizard shook his head and said reassuringly, "There's no need to worry. You didn't do what you did purposely, as you don't understand your innate powers or the wizarding world."
"What world?" He cocked an eyebrow at him.
The wizard gave a small sigh and told him, "It seems I have much to tell you. Come along then."
"To where?" He asked back with hesitation.
"A place where you can understand your magical capabilities, hone them, and use them properly without another incident like today," the old wizard told him with glee and excitement in his voice.
Taking a step back and getting defensive, he stated, "But I don't even know you! I just met you 2 minutes ago."
Realizing this, the old man bowed a bit and apologetically introduced him, "Ah, how rude of me. My name is Albus Dumbledore, headmaster of the esteemed wizarding school Hogwarts. And what is your name, young man?"
He thought about this for a moment before answering. Should he be so trusting of this complete stranger? Though his name and the name of this so-called "school" he ran did sound oddly familiar. And for what it's worth, he did seem to be genuinely….genuine. And besides that, what other options did he have? Where could he go? Did he even have parents in this world or a place to be? He was alone as far as he could tell.
Also, should he even use his old name or make a new one? Despite everything happening, he was given a second chance at life. Should he cling to the past or forge something new?... Did he even remember his old name?
Seeing him standing in silence for an uncomfortable amount of time, Dumbledore spoke up and asked, "Young man?"
Even though he didn't speak loudly, he could hear the Echo bounce back ever so softly, and it hit him. He looked at the old man and told him, "Echo, my name is Echo."