The summer thus far had been dull affair. The isolated house in which Oliver lived with his dad, half-sister and now only one of his older half-brothers was not perhaps the best place for a energetic teenage boy with ADHD to reside. Sure it was beautiful right on the cliffs of Cornwall.. but there was nothing to do. The nearest beach wasn't for miles so that meant no surfing to burn off that inner energy. And he had only recently turned seventeen so apparition was off the cards and there was no way he was going to ask his dad for assistance.

His father, if described in the kindest possible terms, was eccentric, and the floo network at the Greenwood residence had been disconnected over a decade ago... long before Oliver even lived in that house with that man. To get to Diagon Alley today, the Slytherin had to walk six miles to the nearest town; get a bus into Newquay which was another thirty miles away, and then walk to the outskirts to find the tiny dingy little pub which was avoided by all the muggle tourists and surfer dudes like either they couldn't see it, or it was too dilapidated for their tastes. The pub was indeed a wizards pub and was conveniently linked up to the Floo Network. A godsend, despite the trek to get there, and Oliver's only means of getting to Diagon Alley.

The now 6”1' form of the curly haired teenager came spluttering out of the fireplace bashing his head on the way out and groaning with pain. Owie. Another blow to the head – just what the Captain needed. He dusted himself down and coughed some more. A nice hearty dust filled chesty cough - healthy...