Over the next couple of years, I continued with my education, most of the time I spent at my grandmother's was in her library. While there, I focused on reading her books on history and on basic magical theory. However, trying to learn magic from a book with no instruction is like trying to learn to play the piano listening to someone else play.

You may get a few keys down, but mostly you're just fumbling in the dark. To learn how to do magic, you need proper instruction. A book can't just give you the guidance you need. All the adults in my life refused to provide me with lessons on it, saying that I would have plenty of time to learn magic at Hogwarts.

The one exception was potion-making; I continuously bugged my mom to let me watch her work. While she always acted exasperated, I think she secretly loved that I took such an interest in potions. As I got older, she began letting me into her potion's room to watch her work. During which, she began to trust me more and let me help her prepare the ingredients.

It was then that I learned why many wizards had trouble with potions. Ingredients had to be prepared precisely, and any deviation would lead to the potion not being made correctly. On top of that, being able to maintain focus and attention to detail, for extended periods, can be very mentally draining.

Once or twice a week, I would head through the vanishing cabinet in our living room to my uncle's ship. I began learning Arabic from my aunt. It was always entertaining on their boat; they traveled all over the place. Jealous that I started learning Arabic, my mother insisted that I learn French as well.

When I had free time, I began trying to experiment with underage magic or wandless magic; I found it about as easy as herding cats. Wandless or underage magic is unpredictable; sometimes something would happen when I was least expecting it, other times I would nearly pass out from trying to get my magic to activate.

Persisting with my experiments, I discovered a few things that helped. For one thing, underage magic is not about doing spells; you can chant a spell until you are blue in the face, and nothing will happen. Underage magic or wandless magic is more about the need and then letting magic fulfill that need.

By the time I was 10 I had mixed results when experimenting. Most of the time, I could get something magical to happen when I wanted it to. Unfortunately, the magic would do what I needed in unexpected and unpredictable ways. Deciding that being able to make magic happen at command at my age, even though it was unpredictable, should mean that I was rather talented at magic. However, it's difficult to judge my progress in magic without other examples to compare my control over underage magic.

I knew that there was probably a limit to how far I could take wandless magic. Even at the height of their powers, both Dumbledore and Voldemort chose to continue using their wands, only using wandless magic for small spells.

From everything I read on wandless magic, the best analogy I can think of to compare it to is to imagine magic being like a body of water. Next to the water is a large hole you want to fill. Wandless magic is like trying to use a bucket to fill the hole with water, it can be done, but not very efficiently. Whereas using a wand would be like sticking a firehose into the water and having it blast out the other side to fill the hole.

Sitting on the edge of my bed, staring intently at a red quaffle resting on my desk. Arms stretched out before me, I commanded, "Come." Athena's head perked up, thinking I was speaking to her. After seeing my stare was directed towards the quaffle, she huffed her annoyance and sprawled out on the desk.

In a louder voice, I demanded, "Get over here." The quaffle flew across the room towards my face, after catching it and raising it to the heavens, I declared to Athena in my best super trooper impersonation "I am all that is man."

She gave me an unimpressed look and flicked her tail at me, as if to say, I bet you can't do it the same way again. Determined to repeat the experiment, so that I could try and attain the same results, I set the quaffle back on the desk and tried again.

Focusing on my desire, in a dramatic voice, I whispered, "Come to me," the quaffle disappeared in a puff of smoke and reappeared in my hands. I sighed, "Not what I meant, but I'll take it."

Trying once more, I said "Come to me," seeing the quaffle refuse to move, I forcefully commanded, "Get over here," this time the whole desk shot across the floor and after bumping into my bed the quaffle rolled off into my lap.

I looked at Athena and declared, "That counts."

Athena shot me a reproachful look, annoyed that I interrupted her nap. She got up, stretched her wings, and jumped off the desk, gliding out of the room, she shot me one final look before disappearing.

Deciding that I was done for the day trying to force magic to conform to my wishes, I threw on my coat and grabbed my broom. Heading downstairs, I was planning on flying around our property on my ongoing quest to discover our family's mysterious lost tower.

The instant my feet hit the ground floor, my mother's voice rang out from the basement, "Alex, I need you."

I froze, not wanting to be heard, I swear it's like she has a sixth sense about these things.

Sneaking through the house, I made my way out the back. Hopping on my broom, I heard Athena bleat her annoyance, trying to stop me from leaving her behind. As I zoomed into the sky, she took off behind me. Athena's silver-tipped midnight blue wings flapped gracefully, lifting her into the air.

Heading to my favorite rocky hill, I landed with Athena following closely. I pulled a rolled out map out of my coat and spread it on the ground. The map showed the boundaries of our family land. When I decided to search for the tower several years ago, I drew a grid search pattern on a map that I drew.

As I searched each section, I would cross them out, so I wouldn't keep searching in the same area. I was glad that I had Athena with me since she could see through magic. She should be able to give me a heads up if she saw the tower.

Picking a new grid on the map to search, I grabbed my broom, turned to Athena and patted my shoulder, and said, "Come on, girl, you know what to do."

Bleating cheerfully, she launched herself towards my shoulder. Once she established herself there, I complained to her, "You know, for someone who has wings, you sure do love people carrying you."

Deciding that my comment didn't merit a response, she chuffed and licked her paw, pointedly ignoring me.

"Alright, I'm sorry," I apologized. Choosing to ignore my apology, Athena turned her head, refusing to look at me. Knowing her weakness to flattery, I added slyly, "Obviously a creature as beautiful and magnificent as you, deserves to be carried around."

Reaching up, I scratched the base of her horns, knowing that was her weak spot. Decided to accept my statement magnanimously, she rubbed her head against my cheek and purred her approval.

Now that Athena had forgiven me, I intoned, "All right, you know what to do. If you see any magic, give me a sign." Getting on my broom, and heading off to search the new area I stayed about five feet off the ground and went at a pace only slightly faster than walking.

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Almost three hours later, exhausted and ready to call it a day Athena let out a yowl, indicating she saw something. Adrenaline flooded my body chasing away the exhaustion as I looked to Athena who was staring off towards my right. After heading in the direction where she was staring, we came upon the entrance of a steep ravine.

"You have got to be kidding me," I complained. The shadowy ravine had fog so thick I couldn't see the ground. Looking at Athena, in a loud voice, I declared, "I'm not going in there, I've seen how this plays out. Going into a place like that is how characters die in the movies, a person sees a spooky place, and instead of running away, they ignore all common sense and head inside, where they are inevitably killed or eaten by something."

Shooting me an unimpressed look at my rant, Athena scoffed, "Fine," I grumbled. "Just so you know, if I go down, you go down with me." We carefully inched our way into the ravine hovering a few feet off the ground. The walls became steeper the further in we went reducing the amount of light shining down. After a few twists and turns, I noticed out of the corner of my eye, our family's coat of arms. Nudging Athena, I whispered, "That has to be it." Emerging slightly from the rock wall was a hawk with piercing eyes. Surrounding the hawk were glowing stars.

After running my fingers over the stars admiring the spell work which created them I reached for the hawk; it had so much detail to it, one could see individual feather strands on the feathers. As soon as my hand neared, The stone hawk seemed to come alive, its eyes glowed and it bit my hand hard enough to draw blood.

Shaking my hand, I cursed, "Merlin's beard, that hurt."

Seemingly satisfied with the offering of blood, the hawk settled back down. Next to the coat of arms glowing light in the shape of a door appeared.

Reaching out towards the light my hand sank through the glowing stone like it wasn't there at all. Taking a deep breath, I went through the bright door. Passing through felt like walking through a wall of water, but not getting wet.

Darkness greeted me on the other side, I called out tentatively, "Hello, is anyone here?" Responding to my voice, seven glass lamps bolted to the walls lit up. Looking around, I found myself in a large circular stone room, with dust covering the stone floor, I jumped as a booming voice rang out all around me, "INTRUDER, HOW DARE YOU BREACH THE INNER SANCTUM OF THE FAWLEY FAMILY. BEGONE, FROM THIS PLACE, OTHERWISE I SHALL DESTROY YOU."

Defending myself, I called out, "How can I be an intruder, when I am a Fawley."

The voice paused, considering my statement. Then rang out, "Come up here boy, let me get a good look at you."

Looking around and not seeing anyone, I questioned, "Where are you?"

Responding in a tone that seemed to question my intelligence, "At the top, of course, get on the platform."

Seeing a raised platform, I went and stood on it. After a moment, the platform rose off the ground into the air. Passing through an opening in the ceiling, we began to rise. After going through the opening, another floor came into sight. Not stopping, it continued, keeping count of the levels we passed, I noticed we came to a stop on the seventh floor.

Stepping off the platform, the voice rang out again, "Good boy, now come over here and let me take a good look at you."

Glancing in the direction of the voice, the voice was emanating from a painting on the wall. It sat next to a stone chair raised several feet off the ground. A suspicious person might even call the chair throne-like. On the top of the throne rested a hawk's head, extending from the back of the throne were wings, and the armrest ended with hawk's talons. It sat there, intent on intimidating all who came before it.

Trying to draw my attention from the throne, "Ahem," the painting coughed. Turning my attention from the throne to the canvas, I noticed a wild-looking wizard, wearing black robes on the wall, His long-dark hair streaked with silver was wild and untamed, framing his hawkish face. Seeing that my steely grey eyes matched his own, he grinned and said, "I'm glad to see Fawley blood still runs true."

After meeting his gaze for a moment, I questioned, "Who are you?"

Smirking and puffing up his shoulders, as if he couldn't wait to inform me, he proudly replied, "Anton Lambert Fawley, a former member of the high wizard council, creator of this tower." His voice trailed off after seeing that I didn't recognize the name.

"How could you not know who I am? I built this tower," he complained.

"Ya, but no one has ever actually found the tower." After seeing his downtrodden expression, I added, "If it makes you feel better, the tower has always been a family legend. Kids in our family have been looking for this tower for hundreds of years."

"So why didn't you tell anyone where it was?" I inquired.

"Hmph, I would have. Unfortunately, I died soon after completing the tower in 1710. I still can't believe that it took so long for one of my descendants to find the entrance to the tower." He huffily replied.

Waving my hand in front of the painting, I angrily asked, "What the hell was with that stupid bird biting me."

His face brightening, "Ah, that was one of my better ideas, when the hawk detects Fawley blood through biting, the portal to the tower will open." Wagging his bushy eyebrows, and giving me a hopeful expression, that clearly wanted me to ask what would happen if someone who wasn't of our line got bit.

Rolling my eyes at his expression, I asked, "And what would have happened if I wasn't a Fawley?"

Beaming, he responded, "I'm so glad you asked, if someone not of the family line tries to enter, the portal opens to an enclosed room, around 500 feet below the solid rock."

"Couldn't they just apparate out of the room?" I questioned.

Replying with a sinister grin, "Not with the enchantments I placed on the room. Mwahahaha."

Hearing him cackle madly, I realized that this guy had a few screws loose. Deciding to change the topic, I asked, "So how did you hide the tower so well? I can't even count how many hours I spent flying over our property looking for it."

A proud look appeared on his face, and he bragged, "One of the many enchantments that I laid upon the tower made the tower look like a tree and what better way to hide a tree other than in a sea of trees."

I conceded, "That is rather clever."

Proud that I had admired his work, he eagerly continued, "That isn't even half of it, I spent over a decade turning this tower into a fortress able to defend our land. Every floor has been specifically enchanted to make sure that our family could survive almost indefinitely in the tower."

"Were you the one who wrapped our property in the stone wall," I questioned.

"Yes, that is merely the first layer of defense," Pointing at a round table a few feet away. He said, "Look there, boy."

Glancing at the table, I noticed that the surface of the table was a map that showed our entire property. What I found interesting was that there were even a few glowing dots on the map. As if sensing my question, Anton explained, "The white lights represent people on our property, it makes it easy to see intruders."

Rolling my eyes at his paranoia, "Just who were you expecting to assault you?"

Muttering to himself, he grumbled, "You can never be too prepared."

Looking around the tower, I asked him, "How am I supposed to get out of here?"

He scoffed and said, "That's easy; all you have to do is become master of the tower; then you can easily come and go as you please."

Anton pointed towards a ring that was resting on one of the talons protruding from the armrest. He dramatically said, "All you have to do to become the master of the tower is wear the ring. After you put it on the tower will be yours to command, that is, if you are worthy."

With an apprehensive look at the ring, "What happens if I'm not worthy?" I asked.

Anton smirked, "Nothing permanent."

Deciding that it was worth the risk, I reached out and grabbed the ring. The ring had a rectangular topaz stone on top, stamped into the stone was our family's coat of arms. Taking a deep breath, I shut my eyes, not knowing what to expect, and slid it on to my right ring finger.

After nothing happened, his voice rang out, "Mwahaha, you should have seen your face." Anton started laughing so hard he started rolling around on the ground within his painting.

"So, how does this ring work?" I asked, annoyed at his antics.

After recovering, he replied, "With the ring, the tower will recognize you as the master and you will have access to all of its functions."

With a sinking feeling in my gut, I asked hopefully, "I don't suppose you have a book listing of all its functions?"

Offended at the question, he indignantly replied, "Of course not, a book could be stolen and used against you. That's what I am here for. I left my painting to advise the future masters of the tower, I know everything about this place. I even stuck a permanent sticking charm to the painting to make sure no one can remove me."

I grumbled to myself, of course, the crazy wizard made sure no one could remove him. However, a thought occurred to me, so I clarified, "You said you advise only the tower master right?"

"Of course, I consider it my duty to help the master of the tower succeed in their plans."

Sensing that I had finally found a willing teacher, I pulled out the enchanted journal I had gotten for my fifth birthday. After whispering the password, the pages began to fill with questions, thoughts, and ideas I had written over the past five years. With a wolfish grin on my face, I said, "I have so many ideas and plans that I need to discuss with someone."

With a knowing smile on his face, he said, "Well then, my young master, let's begin."