Welcome readers to my second ever HP story here on this site! I've been excited to write this series for a while now and am even more excited to see what everyone thinks of it! My other series, Fate's Four, is still my main series and will always take priority over this one but I have so much fun writing this one that you can expect frequent chapters and updates. I am in need of as much motivation as I can get to write two successful series so please please please leave a review down below if you enjoy the new series! I hope you enjoy it!

Chapter One: The Story Begins

September 1st, 2040- The Leaky Cauldron, London

"No, no, no - you are wrong Archie! Leon Hudson couldn't hold a torch to Harvey Hughes. Leon had three-hundred-and-twenty more points more in the eighty-eight circuit then Hudson did! Their levels were miles apart!" Mr. Gill argued, sploshing some of his drink onto the table as he shouted with over-exaggerated arm movements. Elliot quickly pulled his wash rag from his apron's pocket and cleaned up the spill before returning his arms to the back of the chair he was leaning on and continued to listen on intently to their argument.

"And what good did those extra points do for the Bangers eh? They still finished in the bottom six did'n they. Hudson and the Kestrels finished top o' the table that year!" Mr. Archie bellowed back.

"We wasn't arguing about where they finished in the table though was we? All I'm trying to tell ya Archie is that Hughes was a much better flyer. He practically invented the stop and fall turn! I saw Harvey do the move that helped Hudson win those two titles before anyone even knew who Leon Hudson was with me own eyes!" Mr. Gill growled again, this time maintaining a little better composure with his drink.

"You saw Harvey Hughes fly in person?!" he blurted out the question, amazed that Mr. Gill had seen a legend like Harvey Hughes in person.

"More than once I did. Me father used to take me out to the Banger's pitch before they built that new gawky stadium. The pitch over there used ta' be all be grass and ya could sit so close to the pitch that you almost nearly got hit with their brooms as they flew over ya!" Mr. Gill answered, beaming a smile at the memory.

"They let you sit that close - that's incredible?! Did you ever get to meet any of the players?" he blurted out another question, amazed at Mr. Gill's story.

"I never met any of the good ones no, I did get to meet a few of the reserves though; bunch o' nice fellas they were."

"That's so cool! I can't imagine getting to see someone like Harvey Hughes play that close!" he exclaimed.

"Oh come on boy, you've seen plenty of flyers that could handle a broom better than Harvey Hughes!" Mr Archie argued and from Mr. Gill's reaction it appeared he may have just started a new argument up.

"Elliot Neville Bridges where are you!" his mother shouted across the tables from behind the bar.

"Over here mother, I was just serving Mr. Archie and Mr. Gill, I promise!" he lied.

"Elliot, Mr. Gill and Mr. Archie are sitting at Olivia's table so I know you are lying. Now, I'm not gonna tell you again, go bring down your trunk and get ready to leave! We only have twenty minutes until our portkey leaves for King's Cross!"

"I'm going, I'm going, sorry mother! I just lost track of time!" he apologized and ran over to where is mother was.

"Just like you always seem to do," his mother replied with a girn. He rubbed the back of his head innocently and tried to keep the guilty smile trying to creep forth on his face down.

"I'll bring it down in a few minutes mom. I just have to finish packing first!"

"Finish packing? Elliot, please don't tell me that you haven't finished packing already!"

"Well. . ." he mumbled, rubbing the back of his head again and failing this time to contain his guilty smile this time.

"Elliot, every time you rub the back of your head like that I either know you are either lying or that you have forgotten to do something; which leads me to believe that not only have you not finished packing but that you have not even started packing!"

"I will though, and quick too! You'll see!" he assured her and turned to bolt up the stairs.

"Well I won't be the one missing out on my first year at Hogwarts if you don't! Ask your grandmother to help you!" his mother shouted up the stairs behind him.

"I will!" he called back.

He ran through hallway at the top of the stairs as quickly as he could, having to only slow down for one of the Leaky Cauldron's guests whose room door was blocking his path. At the other end of the hallway he bolted up the second flight of stairs, leading to their living quarters, taking two at a time, and ran to his grandparent's room. It took all the self-control in him to not just burst through the door, but knowing how much his Nana hated that he managed to maintain himself. He reached up and knocked softly on her door.

"Come in Elliot," nana called out from the other side of the door.

"How do you always know it's me?" he asked as he opened the door. His Nana was currently sitting next to the window in her favorite rocking chair reading a book.

"Cause you are the only person who makes enough noise bounding up the steps to scare a Hippogriff," she laughed. "Your grandfather used to do the same thing when he would come home from work. Just like with you, you could hear the excitement in each one of his steps as he bounced up those stairs."

"Sorry for being so loud Nana, I was just in a hurry," he apologized.

"Oh don't be sorry Elliot, you have always been in a hurry with everything since you were born. Now, I take it from all the shouting I heard downstairs from you and your mother you forgot to pack your trunk. Am I right?" she asked him with a raised eyebrow.

"How did you?" he asked again, amazed again. She just laughed at him and slowly stood up from her rocking chair. "Well let's go to your room, I know a few packing charms that will help speed things along." He lead her towards his room, two doors down the hall, and opened the door. "Elliot, honestly the fact that you don't ever get lost in these piles of clothes and magazines you have scattered all over your floor is mind-staggering."

"It's not that messy. I picked up all of the candy wrappers that mom was upset about at least," he retorted, grinning mischievously. Nana shook her head but gave him a soft chuckle.

"It scares me how much you are like your mother sometimes." She shook her head laughing. "Now, fetch your trunk and put it on your bed. You bring me the things you want to pack and I'll put it all in your trunk. Where are your books and supplies at?"

"Over there on my desk," he pointed towards the window and carefully stepped over the piles of clothes on the floor as he made his way over to the closet.

His school trunk was still in the corner of his closet and was currently sitting under a large pile of old posters that he hadn't yet got to putting up in his room. He tried to carefully pull the trunk out without making a bigger mess but failed miserably. All of the posters, along with about forty hangers fell loudly onto the floor of his closet and scattered across his bedroom's floor. He turned slowly towards his Nana who was just shaking her head again as she had her wand out waiting for him.

He pulled his trunk over to the bed and tossed it on top. He watched as Nana waved her wand at the chest a few times and proceeded to levitate all of his books and school supplies into his trunk. He made his way back over to his closet as she did that and randomly took as many shirts as he could carry in his right hand off the hangers, followed by as many pants and shorts he could carry with is left. Thanks to Nana, packing didn't take much time at all and within a few minutes he had almost everything ready to go.

"Elliot dear, you need to put on your school robes now too. And are you going to take it with you?" Nana asked him, pointing at his father's old Thunderbolt VII that was sitting in its wrack above his bed.

"I don't really have any room for it, so I guess not. I'm already going to have to carry my Comet 290 with me on the Express since it won't fit in my trunk. I don't think I can manage carrying two brooms and my trunk," he replied, sad that he was going to have to leave it behind.

"I think we can manage to fit them both in your trunk," Nana replied with a smile and waved him over to her. He made his way over and followed her eyes down into his trunk and could see that the bottom of the trunk was much lower to where the actual bottom should have been.

"Is that the, what was it called, extendable something spell?" he asked, struggling to remember the exacting wording. His mother used the spell often when they went supply shopping for the Cauldron but he had never paid too much attention to it before.

"Right you are, I also added a featherweight charm to your trunk, so it should be easy for you to manage until you get to Hogwarts. Now, fetch your brooms so I can get them in here and you downstairs before your mother comes up here yelling and shouting."

He jumped up onto the bed and pulled his father's broom off its rack and carefully, like handling fine china, handed it to his grandmother. He watched her place it in into his chest, ensuring that it made it to the bottom in one piece, before he ran over to his dresser and plucked his Comet 290 from atop it.

"I think that's everything!" he asserted, putting his hands proudly on the side of his hips. "Thanks for helping me Nana."

"Of course, Elliot. It's not everyday a grandmother gets to spend some time with her grandson before he goes off to Hogwarts for the first time. I'm going to miss hearing you bounding up those stairs and shouting across the bar with your mother. It was always so quiet in the Cauldron when your mother left for Hogwarts when she was your age."

"And yet mother still always says I'm the only loud one in the family." Nana seemed to find that funny.

"Come here and give your Nana a hug and kiss before you leave," Nana ordered. He walked over to her and wrapped her in a hug and cringed a little as she planted a wet, loud smooch on his forehead.

"Awe c'mon Nana!" he groaned as he wiped his forehead, still smiling though.

"It's my job to embarrass you sometimes. Now, promise me before you leave that you will write to your mother and I while your gone; just because your grandfather is a professor at Hogwarts and you'll see him everyday isn't an excuse not to write," she ordered.

"I promise, I promise! When I'm not busy though!" he replied.

"Fair enough, now go on," she ordered him with a smile.

He pulled his trunk off his bed and being unprepared for how light it was stumbled backwards as he pulled harder than was necessary. After getting his grounding again he waved goodbye to Nana one last time and made his way downstairs. A few more customers had made their way into Leaky Cauldron while he had been upstairs it seemed and it took him a moment to spot his mother over the sea of heads.

"Mom, I'm packed!" he shouted across the tables. A few of the non-usuals in the restaurant turned to look at him as he did, but most had grown used to him and his mother shouting over the years.

"Okay, it's just about time to go!" she bellowed back.

"I'll be right back, I'm gonna go say by to the Weasleys and Mr. Underwood real quick!"

"Hurry Elliot, you only have ten minutes!" she shouted back as he ran through the back door out into Diagon Alley.

The Alley was less crowded than it normally was, most likely due to the large number of people sending their children off to Hogwarts today. There were still a few shoppers and families scattered about though, either walking down the street or window shopping. He ran down the empty sidewalk past the first three shops and quickly turned to enter the door of Broomstix.

The shop seemed to be empty of customers and the only person inside was the store owner, Mr. Underwood, who was currently set up behind the counter, busy polishing the handle of a Starsweeper XXXIL.

"I was wondering if you were going to come by before you left!" Mr. Underwood called out as he looked up and met eyes with him. "How long do you have before your portkey leaves?"

"Mother says just ten minutes so pretty soon," he answered and made his way over to the counter and looked the broom over.

The Starsweeper broom series had always been one of his favorites. One of the best American seekers, Luca Flower, in the early 2000's had spent her entire contract money designing a broom specifically for chasers and her flashy style of play. The result was a broom that had nearly dominated the market for years and one that almost all professional chasers used nowadays, bar a few.

Luca Flower was always known as a flashy player; the type of chaser who seemed to refuse to ever score a normal looking goal. That style of play definitely reflected in the star dotted broom handle and the bright yellow bristles.

"Ten minutes huh, who else you have left to say goodbye to?" Mr. Underwood asked him.

"I was just gonna run by the Weasley's before I went back home. Did someone order this broom?"

"Yeah, some fellows from Cork's reserve team apparently had a big crash in practice and broke two of theirs last week so I got an order in for a few of em," Mr. Underwood answered, closing the bottle of polish he had open and wiping the broom a final time.

"Do you need any help? Did you already trim the bristles, I wanted to practice doing that a little more before I left," he asked . Underwood laughed at him and set the broom down on the counter.

"If I let you help me and you miss your portkey we both know that your mother would come down here and burn my shop down," Mr. Underwood laughed again. "Wait here, I got you something," he ordered as he stood up and made his way towards the back of the shop.

"You did? What is it?" he asked, practically bouncing up and down; unable to hold in his excitement.

"Don't get too excited it's nothing special. Just something small to keep you going while you're at Hogwarts," Elliot heard him shout from the back. Mr. Underwood made his way back after a moment carrying a small pouch and a magazine. He handed it to Elliot when he arrived back at the counter. "Well go on, open it up!"

Without hesitation Elliot pulled the two drawstrings and opened up the bag. Inside he could make out a few things. First was a small bottle of the Broomstix secret high-finish wood polish; next to the bottle he could see a small pair of silver bristle trimmers as well as another bottle, this one containing some sticky grip.

"Mr. Underwood, thank you!" he cried out, his voice filled with excitement at the gifts he had received. He had always gone through all of his supplies of stuff like this like wildfire. He hadn't been able to save up enough money to buy more polish or a new pair of trimmers in time before he left for Hogwarts, Mr. Underwood must have known.

"Oh it's nothing. You just remember that when you become a famous seeker and start earning all that money," Mr. Underwood laughed. "I got you this magazine for the Express ride too. It's the latest addition of Quidditch Quarterly. I was just about to read my copy myself, apparently there's an interview with the coach of the Holyhead Harpies in this one."

"They did an interview with the Ginny Weasley-Potter!" he shouted out and picked up the magazine. Sure enough on the cover was picture of the red-headed goddess. He practically drooled as he looked the cover over. Not only was Ginny Weasley-Potter the fastest coach to ever get five British-Irish League titles, but she is also probably the most famous dual position quidditch player of all time. No one in any league ever has ever managed to come close to her record of more than 3,000 points as a chaser and 117 catches as a seeker.

The magazine had the title: Making Winning Look Easy in big flashing red letters that blended in with Ginny Weasley-Potter's hair as it moved in the wind. If there was ever a woman who could be considered perfect it was her he thought, practically drooling.

"I wonder if I can convince my Grandfather to get her to sign the cover of this. I know they still keep in touch a lot and he did help me get her autograph on a jersey for my birthday two years ago," he thought outloud.

"No harm in asking. Now go on and get out of here before we have to face your mother's wrath. And make sure you write me at least once and let me know how the quidditch teams are looking this year. I haven't been to a Hogwart's game in a few years but I've been hearing some good things recently from some customers."

"I will! You make sure you let me know if you hear any juicy news or get any new shipments in," he replied as he took his pouch of broom servicing goods off the counter and headed for the door.

"I will, good luck out there Elliot!"

"Thank you! Bye Mr. Underwood."

As soon as his feet touched the stoney street outside the shop he was in a full sprint down the Alley again. Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes was on the first corner of Diagon Alley and stood above every other building on Diagon Alley, besides Gringotts. The shop was always one of the more crowded ones and even on a monday morning he could still make out a few customers through the large purple windows. He climbed up the steep staircase and made his way into the store.

"Welcome to Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes where you always get the last laugh! Oh Elliot! We thought you might have already left." Roxanne Weasley shouted from behind the store's checkout counter. "George, Elliott is here!"

"Elliot my boy, we were worried you went on to Hogwarts without saying goodbye!" George bellowed as he made his way down the stairs towards the front of the shop.

"I told you I would come say goodbye before I left didn't I?" he replied.

"Was that before or after you told us that you would come help us restock the shelves last weekend?" Roxanne asked him with a grin and his cheeks flushed as he only now remembered that he had in fact told them that.

"Oops," he mumbled.

"Oops indeed," she laughed at him.

"So did you guys come up with the bet idea yet? I only have a few minutes before I leave so I kind of need to know," he asked them and made his way over to the counter.

"Ah yes we did," George answered with a large smile.

"Well?" he asked, curious to know. His bets with the two of them always led to something enjoyable.

"Since you're going to Hogwarts we decided it would only be appropriate to bet on the Sorting Ceremony," George started to explain.

"Dad over there says you are going to end up a Gryffindor," Roxanne stated.

"His Grandfather was the most Gryffindor a person could get! It's in your blood Elliot!" George interjected.

"His mother wasn't a Gryffindor and she had Longbottom blood in her too! I on the other hand think you're going to be a Slytherin, like your parents were," Roxanne Argued.

"Eww!" George hissed like a snake.

"Why do you think Slytherin?" he asked her.

"Well you are the most ambitious little boy I have ever met in my life first off and Slytherin's are known to be the most ambitious of the bunch. Secondly you've been telling us that you are going to be the world's greatest seeker since you could ride a broom and everyone knows the best seekers always come from Slytherin or Gryffindor," Roxanne explained.

"Don't listen to her Elliot. Roxanne was a Ravenclaw so what does she know!" George interjected.

"Me being a Ravenclaw is precisely why I would know!" Roxanne shouted back.

"So what happens if you are right or wrong?" he asked them, anxious to get to the good part.

"If I'm right you have to wear a Chudley Cannons jersey everytime you help out here at the shop," Roxanne started.

"And if I'm right you have to deliver me food from your Mother's kitchen this summer whenever I place an order!" George added.

"As long as you don't order soups! Last time I did that for you I spilt it all over my favorite Lancashire shirt!" he replied.

"Oh there will be plenty of soup ordered," George replied, rubbing his hands together with a maniacal smile.

"Alright, I accept the terms! If I end up in Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw then Roxanne you have wear a Lancashire jersey on the days I help out in the shop and George you have to take me to London's practice grounds two different times and help me with my flying!" he proposed his side of the bet.

"That sounds fair enough," Roxanne replied with a confident grin.

"I think that we can accept your terms!" George agreed with a weird accent and shook his hand. "Now, Eliot, as much as I would like to continue chatting away with you, I believe that is your mother walking down the street with a fervor towards here. I'm still recovering from the last time she yelled at me for giving you those jumping snakes so it's probably best you run along now." Elliot turned to the window and sure enough could see his mother walking with a mission down the Alley.

"Uh oh," he gulped and stepped away from the shop's counter. "I'll write you and let you know what house I end up in. I'll miss you guys!" said Elliot, turning to leave the shop.

"We will miss you too Elliot," Roxanne called back.

"We'll send you a box of goodies sometime this year as long as you promise to put them to good use!" George added.

"I will, bye!"

He opened the door to the shop and made his way back out into the Alley. His mother's eyes immediately found him and he mentally prepared himself for a verbal beatdown.

"Did you get to say all of your goodbyes?" she asked him, surprisingly in a calm tone.

"Yeah, I did," he smiled.

"Good, well let's get back home. Our Portkey is just about to leave," his mother said and pulled him into her side, wrapping her arms around him. "I can't believe my little boy is about to go off to Hogwarts. It feels like just yesterday when I was putting the Sorting Hat on my head," his mother reminisced as they walked back up the Alley towards home.

"Were you nervous at all? About the Sorting I mean?"

"Why do you ask? Are you suddenly feeling nervous about it? What happened to 'the great Elliot Bridges doesn't get nervous'? Did I say it right?" His mother quipped.

"The great Elliot Bridges doesn't get nervous I was just curious is all! Roxanne just said something I hadn't really thought about before."

"What did she tell you this time?" his mother asked, her tone full of accusations. Even though his mother and Roxanne were close friends and had even been schoolmates growing up his mother had never quite grown to approve of Roxanne's constant pranks and joking.

"Nothing bad mom relax! She just said that everyone knows that all the best seekers come from Gryffindor or Slytherin and it got me thinking about it. I mean it's kinda true, at least for the best British seekers. Ginny Weasley-Potter, Lenox Campell, Glynnis Griffiths and Billy Stevens are some of the most famous British seekers and they were all in either Gryffindor or Slytherin; even dad was a Slytherin.

"What if I end up in Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff? What if I do and it's really true that you have to be in Slytherin or Gryffindor to be a great seeker? I was always so anxious to get to Hogwarts so I could try out for a real quidditch team and just start playing; I never actually thought about which house I would actually be playing for and what that meant." His mother stopped walking and turned to him, bending her knees so that she was eye level with him.

"Elliot, the person makes the house, the house doesn't make the person. It doesn't matter what house you are sorted into, whatever house you end up in you will have the potential to become great Elliot," his mother assured him, her voice calm and confident; her eyes never leaving his.

"How do you know that though?" he asked, not fully assured by her words.

"Because you are my son." She leaned forward and kissed him on the forehead and stood back up. She took his hand in hers and slowly pulled him alongside her down the rest of the Alley.

"Both of my parents were Gryffindors and as you know grandfather was about as famous of a Gryffindor as you can be. When they found out I had been sorted into Slytherin, Gryffindor's biggest rival, you know what they both said to me?" she asked him as they arrived outside the Cauldron's front door.

"What?"

"They said they were so proud of me - and you know what I will tell you when you tell me where you've been sorted?" she asked him again.

"What?"

"That I am so very proud of you," she gave him another smile and let go of his hand. "Now, grab your trunk. Our portkey should be ready any second now," she ordered and he ran over to the bottom of the stairs and grabbed his trunk.

"Bye everyone!" he shouted out across the dining area and received a number of waves and goodbye shouts from the Cauldron's usual customers. "And mom."

"Yes, Elliot?"

"Thanks for being such a great mother. I love you, and I hope I really do make you proud some day."

"I love you too Elliot and don't worry - you already have."

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