“St Jude was the patron saint of lost causes - but it’s little known that he was also the only saint who was also a wizard,” Said a tour guide with a group of out-of-towners following him around like flies to a rancid chop.

The marble entranceway led to a cavernous foyer with grand staircases on either side. A sign pointed towards wand fitting.

I said goodbye to Uncle Mortimus, who told me to pick a dragon with red scales - whatever that meant. I wasn’t going anywhere near one of those things - I didn’t have a death wish, thank you very much.

I was rather excited go get my wand though. That’s where it all started, this wizarding business, didn’t it? Sure, the big droopy hat and the robes seemed awfully important, but a wizard isn’t a wizard without his pointy little magic stick.

I shuffled over to a line to the left of the main staircase. It led into a little room with lots of boxes.

Okay, first up wands…check. Now just to wait for my turn.

A pudgy boy with buck teeth tripped over me.

“It’s a Halvelmeyer. There’s one still alive!” It yelled in a high-pitched voice, and then ran away.

A short boy with a slicked-back blonde hairstyle and a rather dorky demeanour tapped me on the shoulder from behind.

“You’re a Havelmeyer are you? How intriguing! I’m Fred Dunstan. Did you know that your father was the captain of the 1995 Dragonball team? They were the best there ever was.” Said the strange blonde-headed boy.

I didn’t know that, as a matter of fact. I didn’t know much about my father in fact, seeing as Uncle Mortimus pretty much flat out refused to talk about him. Or my mother, for that matter.

“Put her there,” Said Fred, offering his hand. “I’m a first year like you. This is my twin brother Davey.” And another boy that looked exactly like Fred turned around as if on cue.

“Put her there, pal,” said Davey.

Ethan had already shook two hands and he hadn’t even gotten to his room. He wondered if these strange boys would be his friends for longer than the wand-fitting line.

“I’ve heard that the dragon chooses you - did you know that?” Said Fred. “Some are hundreds of years old. I wonder if Balthazar is still there! Balthazar is the dragon your old dad rode - he’s the very best there is, but he hasn’t taken a rider since your father. I’m hoping to get him, if you don’t mind.”

Ethan didn’t mind at all, seeing as he had no intention of getting on one of those flame-breathing monstrosities.

“I don’t mind at all, actually,” I said. “Go for it. I don’t think I’ll go in for dragon-riding you know. Seems awfully dangerous.”

Just at that moment yet another boy from the line heard what they were talking about and butted in. He was tall for a 12 year old, and heavy-set.

“Are you Ethan Havelmeyer then? Of the famous Havelmeyers? And you’re not playing Dragonball? What are you, a wuss? Ha ha ha ha…” He said.

“Don’t worry about him,” said Davey. “That’s Alvey Mertens. He’s from an old wizarding family too. But he’s a bit of a prick-”

Suddenly the witch from out front came out of nowhere and boxed Davey over the ears.

“Foul language like that will get you a month of detention if you don’t smarten up, Dunstan.”

Davey stood there nursing his sore ears while Alvey laughed demonically.

“Nice to meet you Havelmeyer,” said Alvey. “Come find me when you want to hang out with someone from a more…prestigious family.”

“Don’t worry about old Mertens. Our dad could buy his out four or six times over,” whispered Davey.

“I heard that! New ones scoundrels! How’s it going Johnny-come-lately? You Nuevo riche never last in Wyvern City.”

I wasn’t sure quite what to think. But luckily the wand queue was moving quite quickly, and I could concentrate on something else for a moment.

“Havelmeyer, I presume,” said the wand fitter.

“Don’t worry about old Cagney. He knows everyone’s names already. He’s a bit of a creep,” whispered Fred.

“Havelmeyer, Havelmeyer, Havelmeyer. I presume you’ll be riding a dragon? Old Balthazar is getting rather plump being on the sidelines for so long since your father,” he said.

“Oh I don’t know about all that,” I said. “I’m a bit more safety conscious than my father was.”

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The expression on Cagney’s face slackened into a scowl.

“It’d be wise not to speak ill of the heroic dead,” said Cagney, flipping him a box with a wand inside it. “Ironbark. Essence of Banksia. That should do you. Next”

I felt a bit hard-done by, if I was honest. I was expecting my wand-fitting to be rather more elaborate and ceremonial than that. Especially since Davey and Fred were greeted by Cagney in a much warmer tone, and brought off into private rooms to select their new equipment.

I meandered around in the foyer for a moment or two, wondering what to do next. Then I caught eyes with a stunning raven-haired girl from across the room. She was holding a stack of books and blushed when we locked eyes, then ran off in the direction of the student common rooms.

“Keep dreaming pal.” It was Alvey, clutching his fresh new wand, marching on his way to the dragon stables. “She’s too good for you.”

Davey and Fred bumbled out of the wand-fitter’s with big smiles on their faces. They had obviously gotten the royal treatment.

“He even taught me a spell,” said Fred. “Here, let’s try it!”

And then he took out his wand and waved it over an empty cup they had gotten from the cafeteria.

“Refectio!” he said. And the cup filled up with steamy hot liquid.

Davey took a sip; it was hot. Hotter than hot.

“Owww!! I think you waved the wand too much! It’s scalding!” he said.

“Come on Davey! I just did magic! It’s tea, isn’t it? That’s what I meant to make,” said Fred.

“Ewww…it’s root beer!” said Davey.

Oh well. Back to the drawing board I guess.

“You have to come to the dragon stables with us Ethan!” said Fred. “Even if you aren’t going to try one on. To support Davey and I. We’re going to be star goalscorers for sure.”

I thought about it for a moment. I wasn’t doing anything. To be honest, I hadn’t a clue where I was meant to go. And meeting these two interesting knowitalls was exciting. I wanted to see where it went.

“Alright, let’s do it,” I said.

On the right-hand side of the grand staircase was another big marble doorway, leading to a quadrangle with a huge willow tree in the middle. Apparently the tree was over four hundred years old, and was planted by the founders of the school when they came over from Europe in the 1600s. It draped across the perfectly-manicured grass like a billowing green dress, and looked very majestic indeed.

The stables were in the dungeon underneath the school (did all wizarding addresses have dungeons? He was starting to think so), and the boys had to walk to the other side of the quadrangle and take a magical elevator that took them three kilometres underground.

The magical elevator had so many buttons with so many ridiculous destinations that Ethan was certain it wasn’t real. The buttons covered every wall, from the ground to the ceiling, and there were even buttons on the ceiling, that could only be reached by the elevator attendant, who was a goblin that used a ladder on wheels like the ones you might see in a library. Ethan could swear that he saw a button that said ‘The Moon.”

“Destination?” said the goblin, who was about two feet tall, had a hook nose about as long as the rest of his head, and a very smart red velvet suit with gold trimmings.

“The stables,” said Fred. “We’re going to be dragon ball champions!.”

The goblin rolled his eyes. That was obviously far more information than he wanted nor needed to perform his job. Apparently, he was the least chatty elevator operator in existence.

He reached out his spindly long finger and pressed a button to his left. The doors closed, and the elevator rattled to life, making that same thrumm sound that Uncle Mortimus’ car made when the magic switched on.

“Have you ever been in a magical elevator before?” said Davey.

“No. Never,” I replied. “I’ve been in plenty of regular ones thou-”

Then, in a millisecond, everyone’s stomachs jumped up into our throats. The elevator went instantly fast, like an electric motor. It didn’t speed up slowly like a car does. It simply went whoosh, and all you could do was hold onto the handrails as tightly as you could. The speed of the elevator was so fast, I could feel my feet wanting to lift off the ground - so I held on even tighter.

On either side of the elevator, there were floor-to-ceiling windows, and what we could see through them was incredible, yet horrifying at the same time.

We went through all the many floors of the school in half a second. Classrooms, common rooms, bathrooms and sporting courts whizzed by, giving way to huge black caverns, one after another. Some were filled with glowing succulent plants and other strange creepy crawlies - others with endless lakes that stretched as far as the eye could see.

In another, the only thing you could make out were thousands of bright red eyes and sharp white teeth.

“What the-” I gasped.

“Don’t look outside,” said Fred. “I should’ve said that before, sorry.”

Suddenly, the elevator slowed down all at once, making my stomach drop from my throat, past where my stomach ought to be, all the way down to my crotch. It was a very unnerving feeling.

It also felt like all the blood had gone out of my head, and I felt terrifically dizzy, like I might pass out.

“Dragon stables, Dungeon floor 2A,” said the goblin unenthusiastically.

The doors opened, and the sight that greeted me was about as enthralling as you could possibly imagine.

A swimming black dark expanse greeted the eyes, bordered by stalactites speckling a huge endless dungeon ceiling. There was a precarious bridge that led out into the expanse, and then it just ended in the middle. The ground below was utterly invisible. I tried to imagine how deep the cavern must go. If it were big enough to keep numberless dragons for riding, it must be huge.

There was, again, a line formed of (mostly) boys, but a not insignificant amount of girls, waiting patiently to meet the dragon that may or may not choose to let them ride on top of them and throw an air-filled ball at a set of floating goalposts.

Alvey Mertens was there, with a group of similarly empty-minded thugs, looking about 5 times as nervous as I expected them to look.

Down one side of the bridge to nowhere was a winding pathway that led into the dark below, presumably to the dragon stables. I could see a lonely figure trudging up the path towards us.

He had obviously been working with dragons, by the look of the huge scar across one side of his face. He was muscled, with skin bronzed by smoke and ash. He pulled behind him a cart with the largest saddle I had ever seen in my life.

The man walked out along the bridge to nowhere, which rose above the rest of the line, so he had the perfect height to address the newcomers.

“You shall address me as Doda. Not Mr. Doda, not sir Doda - just Doda. Once we get you in the air there’ll be no time for formalities. In a minute you’ll be asked to step onto the bridge and call out to the dragons. If, and I say if - a dragon chooses you, you may saddle it and take it for a ride. Then you will be bonded forever.”

“Man, this is so cool,” said Davey, gushing.

“Who would like to ride a dragon then?” said Doda, with a wicked grin on his face.