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cwosont

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    O
    n the night of Sunday, the 24th of September, 81-year-old James T. Powell passed away in his sleep. He was found the next afternoon in his London home by a longtime friend and employee of Powell’s bakery, The Philosopher’s Scone, located in the heart of Diagon Alley.

    Having touched the hearts of many in the community, Powell leaves behind countless friends to join his late husband in the great beyond. The Philosopher’s Scone has been closed in the three days since his death, but Diagon Alley is hopeful that the shop will remain open in the long run.

    Three days after his passing, nine residents of Diagon Alley received a mysterious letter by owl, addressed to them by Powell himself.

    Within these letters, Powell admitted to once having had the dream of discovering Atlantis and other lost worlds. Never pursuing his dream was the one regret Powell carried with him to his grave. After telling his story, Powell reminded the recipients of these letters that they have dreams of their own. If they can find it in themselves to place their trust in him, he is willing to show them how to take risks. Powell left them with instructions to meet at The Leaky Cauldron the next night.

    Should these nine witches and wizards choose to place their faith in Powell, they will be taking their first step in an adventure that will surely change their lives forever.

    --

    If you’re reading this letter, that means I’m dead. Don’t feel bad for me, though, it is the cycle of life, after all. I enjoyed my life and cherished the memories I had with my friends and family, including you. I do have to admit, however, that I left this world with regrets.

    As a boy, I dreamed of discovering the world’s secrets. Atlantis, El Dorado, and more. After graduating I planned to head for Greece to begin my quest, but before that could happen my father died quite suddenly. With three younger siblings, I knew I couldn’t leave my mother behind. I decided to stay in Britain until they were all of age, but then I met my future husband and my plans were pushed back once again.

    Years passed and I continued to set aside my dreams in exchange for stability. As you are already aware, I opened a small bakery in Diagon Alley and lived out my days in London. Even when my husband passed on before me, I remained. I believed myself to be far too old to bother. That, my friend, is my biggest regret.

    Since meeting you, I have come to know that you have dreams yourself. Yet here you are, spending your days in this dreary old place. I know it isn’t your fault, friend. Nobody taught you that it was okay to take the risk. Not until today, that is. If you’ll have a little faith, I’d like to teach you.

    Head for The Leaky Cauldron an hour before closing on Thursday night, back room to the right. I promise you’ll understand more when you get there.

    With love,
    James T. Powell


































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