December 23rd, 2511 (Standard Military Calendar) / Surrey, England, United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland.

The setting-sun's warmth spread in a bright red glow across the playground where the dark and ragged haired boy was standing, proudly displaying a bright smile splayed across his bloody teeth as he looked down on the four or five other and larger children tangled upon the ground.

The woman watching him from the edge of the street noted his shudder on each intake of breath, but that he made no noise of distress, and over a few minutes as he remained there like a king surveying his lands, even that much slowed and vanished.

The largest of the defeated boys groaned pitifully and rolled onto his back with trembling hands pressing in against his own stomach a moment later.

He clenched it tightly with stubby fingers and began to cough before his head lulled to the side and whatever he had eaten for breakfast sprayed across the ground beside his face.

At that point the woman strode forward.

Her sharp green dress displayed little of her figure, though her rank and department were both clearly available over the breast and left shoulder; the four small emblems enshrined within a larger golden shield that indicated she was an official Wizard of Hogwarts, and the long stripes of a retired Auror to boot.

Clasped in between the fingers of her left hand she carried the atypical brown-stained wand and her aged, auburn hair was wrapped up into a bun at the back of her head.

The boy she was watching finally stepped down from his position as king of the hill and trotted lightly over to the monkey bars nearby, getting a slight hunch in his posture before he suddenly broke out into a run and leaped up as high as his diminutive height would allow.

Her breath hitched as his scrawny fingers reached out for the nearest rung at the top and missed by millimeters- and he ducked his head into his chest as his feet hit the dirt with a clear thump, swinging the same arm low and swiftly into his stomach as his momentum threw him head-first toward the ground.

He curved it into a roll and twisted awkwardly as his hair cleared the soil, so that when he sat up he was somehow facing sideways from the direction he had started in.

The woman slowed as she approached and watched his muddy-green eyes for any sign of brain trauma or dazing.

He leaned forward and exhaled harshly, then sucked back another breath and did it again twice more before snapping back to his feet and looking up at the overhead target firmly.

Then he dashed forward again and threw himself toward the usual ladder bars at the other end and used his foot to kick off from the lowest run, allowing his propulsion to shift to an slightly- backward vertical angle.

His fingers scraped the top bar and clenched down tightly enough to pop the knuckles in each hand, and he swung back and forth a few times with a wide grin across his still-red lips and teeth as his breath fled in and out heavily again.

Despite his light and weak looking build he twisted around and reversed his grip one at a time, then began to climb forward until he got to the same end he had started toward from the beginning. By that point she had seen all she needed to, and the woman strode over at the same swift pace as before.

"Harry Potter?" she asked him a few moments later.

He turned his head and swung back around before pausing mid-way, leaving him holding on only by one arm to each bar and with a very precarious grip at that.

He examined her face from almost chin-height with a sense of clarity unexpected in a ten year old and glanced over to the unknown emblem and signs on her dress.

"Who're you?" he asked point-blankly. Her expression shifted at his evasion.

"I believe I asked you first," she said in the same firm tone.

He looked back to her face and the dark blue eyes for a moment before dropping to the ground and rolling roughly to the side of her feet, staying there again as he gathered his breath.

She turned to face him and brought her wand up, silently incanting a levitation charm.

"Mister, I am an official representative and joint Wizard/Auror of the International Confederation of Wizardry and Space Command. When I ask you a question, common courtesy and respect dictates that you respond in a crisp and efficient manner." She told him sternly.

He glanced down at the ground as he hovered up at eye level proper now and felt a sense of elation mingle with his unexpected fear.

He felt like falling but couldn't, like he was on the edge of the lunch table and leaning far enough off to drop without being allowed to.

He looked up into her eyes like his teachers always demanded and answered.

"I still don't know your name, Ma'am," he said with a modicum of healthy-respect for her control over his body at the moment, resisting the urge to shiver as the feeling continued to build.

He didn't mind it so much as it made him uncomfortable- he often enjoyed the thrill of a short fall from something taller than he was, but this extended sensation was creeping under his nerves.

She didn't react at first to his unexpected stubbornness.

Then she brought him up to the top of the bars and settled him there, so he could sit down.

"You have a great deal of nerve and irresponsibility," she told him in the same tone. "If I were here to offer you a role into the Auror's, that would be appreciated. I am not; I am asking if you are Harry Potter."

He relaxed once he was on the bars. It wouldn't be fun to climb down from there but at least the unpleasant sensation had left, and he could relax into the grip his hands made along the top of the same two bars as he had been holding on from beneath.

After a moment he leaned back and lifted one hand up to his hair to brush it aside.

Her eyes flickered up to the oddly shaped scar there before returning her gaze to his face. "An indirect, if accurate, answer." She summarized flatly.

He just smiled again though there was a lightness to it that hadn't been there before.

After a moment her expression grew less severe and she carried on with her intended message.

"Harry Potter, you turn eleven in precisely three more days," she said, "I am here on behalf of the ICWSC to offer you a scholarship in our colony. If you accept this offer you will be placed among others with the same capabilities you possess; however, and here I advise you to pay utmost attention, we do not tolerate such insubordination without punishment." She warned him seriously.

"You would become a member of our militant forces, Mister Potter, and subject to all of our laws and regulations that do not strictly apply to civilians."

Harry blinked.

Then he leaned forward again. "Will I be able to command my own unit someday?" he asked her in an honestly curious tone.

She turned half away from him and began to stride back toward the street before answering. "After the behavior I've seen of you today... I expect you will indeed, Mister Potter, given you last long enough without being drummed out."

Harry watched as she made it almost to the hill before making up his mind.

He was already the king of this place, this playground and the school he and the other orphans were stuck in where he could make himself a victory if he fought hard enough, and it was one of the few things his teachers actually appreciated about him regarding tests and general grade point average.

He wanted a new challenge again, and the satisfaction that came of fighting for it.

He crab-walked along the side of the bars until he reached the end, then swung around and placed his feet on the top rung before hopping down and setting off at a quick pace to follow her, grinning that same bright and bloody smile even as the night lamps began to burn and the sun finished its journey below the horizon.


The shuttle Knightbuswas waiting at the end of the street for them, and Harry found the details of it to be more impressive than any of the other vehicles he had seen cruising along the city before.

Light reflected off of its sleek black surface, so that his eyes had to strain to make out the shape and size and tiny little windows along the sides.

"Mister Potter, this is your final border. If you have any doubts, any reason to refuse this objective and carry on as you have been of late, you may stop and turn around now- your given word is meaningless until you set foot upon the Knightbus," she told him.

Harry stood up a little straighter at the slight insult to his character.

Once he made up his mind to do something, he was committedtoward it no matter what pain it brought on him, and this was no different even though he did not know what the dangers and barricades to his success might be.

She glanced down to verify he was listening and met his gaze evenly.

A soft tut of either approval or otherwise escaped her as they sped up, and within the minute they were indeed standing before the retracting door.

Up-close the seeming-reflective surface was less impressive than from afar; it was duller and easier to look at, and the texture was oddwhen he pressed his hand to it before stepping past the threshold.

The interior was well lit with a few solid, continuous benches lining each wall and a set of straps carefully folded in place at even intersections, and seated in almost every position were other children looking to be about his own age.

Harry stepped into the moderate-sized area and promptly sank onto the nearest and vacated seat, satisfied that here were others that might give him a run for his rule.

Most of them stared at him and the dried blood smeared over his face and where it had dribbled down onto his chin and shirt, and he smiled brightly to show off where it coated his teeth in addition, eagerly testing the waters.

A pair of red-haired children stared openly despite the maelstrom of freckles splashed across their own features, and a light blond boy with beady eyes shuffled further back into the other bench as if trying to pull away.

The Wizard followed Harry in after a few more moments and attracted the rest of the children's attention, mostly to distract them from Harry's unnerving sight, and also to invoke fascination of the wand she waved through the air.

Many a quiet 'Ooh,' and 'Wow,' filled the space as the door slid back and down into position, and then she was filing past them and to the blank stretch of wall at the front of the shuttle.

Another short twitch of the wooden foci and the metal split apart and grew, a smooth and transfixing transfiguration that attracted the full attention of each of them, despite the fact that they had seen the same only a short time ago.

"This is the power of a wand in the hands of a Wizard, and an Auror in addition. It is one of the single most valuable tools any of you will ever have, be it for combat or your natural tasks outside of such, including what I have just performed with my own," she said without turning around.

"In time many of you will be capable of far more than merely shifting the elements to your imagination, and at a greater pace and urgency- that is, provided you are accepted into my class and regiment," she told them.

"There are four esteemed Wizards where you will soon spend the next ten years of your lives that will each attempt to impart to you the skills required to serve our greater purpose."

After a moment she stepped through the doorway ahead and waved her wand again, sealing the way closed again; as if an afterthought, the belts beside each of the children stirred to life and wrapped over their waists securely.

Harry laughed as his fingers dug under the surface, thrilled by the magic.

End Chapter One.