Prologue
At Privet Drive an Old Man was walking, he was unnaturally odd in his looks. He wore long, midnight blue, spangled robes and had a purple cloak swishing behind him. With his tall stature and wispy long hair along with his twinkly eyes like fractals behind his half-moon spectacles, it was easy to consider this man a Wizard of children's tales. They wouldn't be far off even if they called him Merlin…
"Are you so sure about this Headmaster?" the woman next to the Old Man questioned. "I've seen their kind, they won't be able to properly raise the child!" the woman also looked very 'whimsical', what with her witch's hat, robes, and green cloak, all she needed was a wand to be Morgana Le Fay on Halloween.
"Do not worry Minerva, I assure you young Hadrian will grow up in a loving environment, they are his family after all." the Headmaster responded as he took out a stick, an odd one even, with small beads on it, thin and nimble like the man, and started waving it around the basket with the baby boy that sat right next to them.
"We could at the very least talk to them first. Set things in order…" Minerva suggested.
The Headmaster contemplated as he looked at the boy with glossy black hair and piercing green eyes, looking at the boy, he remembered his own godson as a myriad of emotions and flashes of the past haunted him.
All of a sudden looking inwards, the baby's weight felt like that of the sky in the Headmaster's hands as he drowned in the emotions. The years of despair had finally touched his soul, now, realizing the crossroads he stood at, the Headmaster knew that this was his only chance to assure that Hadrian could be happy and the world could be safe. He set the baby back in the basket and tucked him in, all the while he took the note set next to the child and continued staring into the boy's beautiful viridian orbs.
"Sir, shall we leave?" Minerva asked.
The Headmaster raised his hand in a signal, "Go, Minerva, I will come very soon." Minerva nodded and walked away, disappearing with a pop sound. The Old Man raised one of his knobbly fingers and near pressing the doorbell of #4 Privet Drive. He stared at the sky and thought in his daze. For a moment it seemed that the world itself was wondering whether he would press the doorbell or not. The Old Man sat there looking at the bell waiting to move his hand, to glimpse into the brightness of the future as darkness enveloped the neighborhood…