Hallo, this is a new story... Yeah... I should probably finish my other stories, but this idea was too tempting! Meep...

Also, I realized that some people might not like the fact that Alex is going to go to Hogwarts, even when Dumbledore left him at the Dursleys. Well, I need him to be at Hogwarts. So unless any of you have a better way of having him go to Hogwarts, deal with it. Or just don't read this.

Anyway... I hope you guys like it, and if you have any particular pairing, please tell me in a review, so I can consider it. GRACIAS!


January 2, 1991

Vernon Dursley wiped off his hands, looking particularly smug about himself, as he walked away from a crying one year old baby left in a dark alley. His family was finally rid of that freakish brat. Not looking behind him, he entered his car and drove off.

Moments later, a tall, well-dressed man emerged from the shadows. He stared, grey eyes calculating, after the retreating car. After a second of pondering, he turned to the child on the ground. "You poor little child, to be abandoned at such a young age…" he quietly muttered, an American accent clear in his voice. Bending down, he scooped the child into his arms, cooing softly.

"You know what? I'm going to take you with me back to America," the man decided. "The good ol' States should be some good for a child like you."


Ten years later: August 20, 2001

"What do you mean he's gone?" Minerva McGonagall demanded. "What did Arabella say?"

"Said that he's gone. One day he was there, the next, he wasn't. She said that she overheard Vernon Dursley boasting about how he got rid of the 'freakish brat' by dumping him in an alleyway in London," Albus Dumbledore said, looking solemn. "I never knew that Lily's own sister would go to such lengths… It's more than probable that Harry is now dead."

"I told you!" McGonagall said fiercely, glaring. "I told you that sending him to those Muggles would only go wrong for him! You didn't believe me! Now Harry's either dead, or living on the streets like some rat! Lily's son should NOT be living that way! He should have known a parent's love!"

Albus sighed, "I know… I know. Believe me, it kills me everyday to think about Harry. It's all my fault, Minerva."

"It is, Albus. I won't deny that," McGonagall said harshly.


Meanwhile, Alexander Johnson-Williams adjusted his grip on the gun, and aimed at the target with determination. "Come on, Alex, you got this!" his father, Connor Johnson-Williams, encouraged. "Good grip. Your arm's a bit too stiff, you'll get hurt that way. Okay, fire!"

BANG!

Alex's arm shifted back slightly from the impact of the recoil. Taking a good look at the target, Alex let out a whoop, emerald green eyes shining with pride, "Look, dad! I got the center!"

"That's great, Alex! You'll be a fine soldier when you grow up," his dad praised.

"Like you?"

"Yup, just like your old man," his father bragged, grinning. Grey eyes lighting up, he said proudly, "Maybe you'll even become a lieutenant general like me!"

Alex smiled brightly back. "That'd be awesome, dad!" Glancing at the clock, Alex frowned, "Don't you have a meeting to go to?"

Jumping, his father also took a look at the clock. "Oh, shi-shoot!" he swore, grabbing his uniform and tugging it on. "Gotta go, Alex! Just practice some more, okay?"

"Yessir!" he chirped, giving his father a salute.

After a few more rounds, Alex smiled proudly as he saw that they had all hit the center. "Dad's gonna be so happy!" he fell onto the couch, cradling his gun, that was obviously on safe. Looking out the window, he admired the skyline of New York City, hoping his dad would take him to the Twin Towers again. Suddenly, his view of the city was obscured by a fluffy, dark thing. Taking a closer look, he realized with a double take that it was an owl… Wait, what? "I thought owl's were nocturnal," he muttered, nearing the window.

He realized that the owl had a letter in it's beak, and it looked particularly bedraggled. "Should I let it in?" he asked himself, wondering if this owl had fleas or whatever that was on owls.

Shrugging, he gingerly opened the window to let the owl in. Retrieving the letter from its beak, he glanced at the owl, asking incredulously "Is this for me?"

The envelope read:

To Mr. Harry James Potter,

4 West Street, Apt # 812, Floor 8

Room at the end of the hall, on the right.

Except for the name, the other bits of information were correct. Alex stared at the envelope fearfully, as if it were a bomb. "What the hell? How does it know where my room is?"

The owl let out an annoyed hoot, nudging the envelope. Hesitantly, Alex opened the envelope, taking a look at its contents.

He nearly dropped the letter, inching away from it. A school of witchcraft and wizardry? Hogwarts? This must be a prank… Except for the owl. It seemed pretty real.

Frowning, he grabbed a pen, and started to write on the back of the letter. The letter told him to write back, so he decided that writing back would not hurt.

Dear Professor McGonagall,

You apparently sent this letter to me, knowing even where my room is, which is admittedly creepy. However, my name is not Harry James Potter. Even so, how can magic be real? What is Hogwarts? Where is it?

Most of all, how do you know where I live?

Thoroughly creeped out, and thinking this a prank,

Alex J-Williams

And he handed it to the owl, who took it and promptly flew out the window and out of sight. Alex noticed with confusion, that it headed out towards the Atlantic Ocean. Strange.


Professor McGonagall was sitting in her office, having a cup of tea with biscuits when the owl barrelled into her window. It looked worn and weather battered. Opening her window, she let the owl in, frowning curiously at the letter in its beak.

Retrieving the letter, she nearly had a heart attack when she saw the front part of the invitation letter. It was to Harry James Potter. Turning the letter over, she read the message, heart sinking. It most likely was Harry, for the Hogwarts acceptance letter sender was never wrong. However, it seemed as if the boy was raised as a Muggle. And in the United States of America no less.

Throwing a handful of Floo powder into her fireplace, she said firmly, "Headmaster's Office, Hogwarts."

"Minerva?" Albus turned around, curious. "What do I owe for this honor?"

"Harry Potter is alive!" she said excitedly, eyes alight with hope. "However," her eyes dimming, "he's in America, and raised like a Muggle."

Albus's eyes lit up, "Really? This is excellent news. This calls for a personal visit to him."

"Do you need me to accompany you, Albus?" McGonagall inquired. She was very eager to see the son of Lily and James Potter.


Meanwhile, Alex and his father were leaning over a computer that had a battlefield simulation on it. "We should build up a secure spy system," Alex mused, typing something into the computer.

"Why?" his father inquired, smiling warmly.

Without looking up from the simulation, Alex answered, "Because you need to know your enemy to defeat him. We also need to take weekly consensuses of our supplies, and the conditions of our soldiers. We need to know ourselves as well to defeat the enemy. Obviously."

His father clapped him on the back, "Sound logic, Alex."

"So, can we go see the Twin Towers now?" Alex asked, eyes wide and pleading.

His father rolled his eyes, but smiled anyway. "After another simulation."

Grumbling slightly, Alex turned to the computer, eyes alight with excitement. "We don't have many troops," he said, trying to hide his confusion. "Dad, how are we going to defeat the enemy?"

His father ruffled his hair, "You might be a sound strategist, Alex, but you still have ways to go."

"...I know…"

"It's ok, kid," his father chuckled. Pointing at his troops, he explained to his son, "See, when you have fewer troops than your enemy, you need to deceive him into thinking that you have more troops."

"How?" Alex was frowning cutely, brows furrowed.

"You surround them, and by surrounding them, you make it seem as if you have more troops than they do, and a better tactical position. Being surrounded causes fear and panic," his father explained.

Before Alex could answer, the doorbell suddenly rang.

Connor frowned, and stood up. Alex looked at him, "did you have meetings scheduled this afternoon?"

His dad shook his head, "This is strange."

Opening the door, Alex and his father were met with the strangest duo ever seen. There was an old man, with a long white beard that reached his knees, and an elderly woman with a stern expression on her face. What was strange was their clothing. The man was wearing polka dotted purple pants, and light blue striped button up shirt. The woman was wearing a flowery blouse, along with navy blue pants with stars on them. "Um, may I help you?" his father asked, eyeing their clothing.

The man smiled, eyes twinkling, "I am Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

Alex blinked, "Wait, so that school's real? Magic's real?"

His father turned to look at him, "What are you talking about, Alex? What's going on?" Gulping slightly, Alex explained to him the letter. His father was frowning, "You should have told me this when I got back home."

"Well, you were tired, so I decided to tell you later, but then I forgot," he admitted sheepishly.

The man, Albus Dumbledore, along with the woman stepped into the apartment after Connor stepped aside. "This lady here is Professor McGonagall," Dumbledore introduced.

The woman nodded, for she didn't seem like the type who smiled often. "You look a lot like your parents, Harry," she said, a small smile on her lips.

Alex frowned, "My name is Alex. I don't know who Harry is. And I don't know who my parents were." His father stepped closer to his son, eyeing the strangers with caution, hand drifting near his belt, when he hid his gun. "And is magic really real? I mean, this could all be some elaborate prank."

Dumbledore smiled, and reached into his pant pocket, pulling out a stick. Alex blinked, confused. With a swish of his wand, Alex found himself floating in midair. He yelped, flailing around. His father's eyes were wide, disbelieving, but here his son was literally floating.

"This is a wand, Alex," Dumbledore explained after he set the boy down. "And it channels your magic." Stopping, he drew out a picture. In the picture was a young couple. There was a young man with black hair as messy as Alex's, and a young woman with eyes that Harry no doubt inherited. "These are your biological parents, Ha-Alex. James and Lily Potter."

"Where are they now?" Alex demanded. "Why did they leave me?"

"Wait, this man isn't the man I saw the night I picked Alex up," his father said. "I saw a fat man that looked like a walrus."

"That probably was Alex's uncle," Dumbledore said, looking slightly guilty. "Your parents didn't leave you, Alex. They died."

"How?" Alex asked.

"There was a dark wizard named Voldemort, and he was after you. Your father tried to hold him off, but was taken down. Your mother, she could have been spared, but she apparently refused to back down when Voldemort demanded that she step aside. So he killed her, and then moved on to you. He tried to kill you," Dumbledore explained. "For wizards, there is a curse that was made to kill. No one has ever lived after having the Killing Curse hit them, but you did. You survived for some unknown reason. We suspect it was because of your mother's sacrifice, but we can't be sure. And when you survived it, the curse rebounded and instead, killed Voldemort. And that was the day the war against Voldemort ended. And you were the hero who stopped it, known as the Boy Who Lived." Now looking extremely sheepish, the headmaster continued. "So you became an orphan, and I decided to leave you with your aunt and uncle, who have no magic in them. I thought it would be good for you to not grow up with that knowledge-"

"Wait," Alex interrupted, "Why would I be the one who is hailed as a hero? My mother should've been! She was the one who saved me… And also," he said, looking at Dumbledore darkly, "Didn't my parents leave a will to decide who would be my guardian if they died?"

"Ah, well…" Dumbledore fumbled a bit, "Well-"

"Who are you to decide where I am left? You're just a Headmaster," Alex said, glaring. "I could've died. My uncle left me in a cold alleyway to die. If dad hadn't come along, I would be dead."

The woman, Professor McGonagall spoke up, "The man you were supposed to be left with was incarcerated in the wizard prison, Azkaban. His name is Sirius Black."

"Why is he in jail?"

"He betrayed your parents' location to You-Know-Who," the woman explained, eyes hardening in anguish. "He was a traitor."

Swallowing, Alex pushed away the sudden anger at this Sirius Black, "What about my parents' other friends? Surely he wasn't the only friend they had."

"The next one," McGonagall swallowed, "the next one was tortured into insanity by one of You-Know-Who's followers."

Alex's face tightened, and his father draped an arm over his shoulder comfortingly. "And the third person? I assume it is not my aunt and uncle, since they seem like people who are very intolerant to things that are out of the norm."

McGonagall turned to Dumbledore, who sighed, "I admit, I did step out of line by sending you to your aunt and uncle's."

Alex glowered slightly, "Continue?"

"And we're here to not only inform you of the magical world's existence, but we're here to inform you that you are accepted into Hogwarts. Your parents paid your tuition fees when you first displayed a bout of accidental magic," McGonagall explained.

Alex's father spoke up, "You have British accents. I am going to assume that Hogwarts is in the UK?"

"Yes, it indeed is in the UK. Scotland to be precise."

"I don't feel comfortable letting him go a school across seas. Especially with people who stick their noses into places that aren't their business," his father said coolly.

Dumbledore shifted around guiltily, "I know that my actions ten years were not mine to make, and I know those actions could have killed Har-Alex… But it is essential for Alex to have a magical education."

"Aren't there magical schools in America?" the father demanded, arm tightening around his son protectively.

"Well, yes, there are, but Har-Alex, your parents would have wanted you to attend Hogwarts," Dumbledore pleaded.

"My parents would not have wanted me to be placed in a household that had no qualms of leaving a one year old to die," Alex retorted. "Why can't I go to an American magic school? It's most definitely closer."

"Hogwarts is the finest school of witchcraft and wizardry, Mr. Potter," the woman said sternly. "If you wish to reach your full magical potential, then Hogwarts is the place for it."

Alex frowned, and looked at his father, having a silent conversation with him through their eyes. His father spoke up, "Fine. He can go to Hogwarts… On the condition that he is allowed to carry a gun with him at all times."

Dumbledore blinked, a look of slight discomfort flashed across his face before it was replaced by his usual expression. Connor Johnson-Williams smirked, "It's either that, or Alex's going to a magical school in America."

"...very well…" Dumbledore relented, still slightly frowning. "However, he cannot use it whenever he wants-"

"Of course he's not going to go blasting limbs off innocent civilians!" his father exclaimed, looking insulted. "I taught him better than that. I just need to be reassured that he can protect himself."

"The magic that we teach is perfectly fine at protecting the user," McGonagall said haughtily.

Connor nodded, "I know. However, when your wand is taken away or snapped, a wizard becomes any common muggle. Defenseless and vulnerable to attack."

Dumbledore and McGonagall exchanged looks, and Dumbledore slowly acquiesced. "But if he abuses that, it's going to be taken away."

Connor looked at Alex, "That's fine."

"Then I will leave you your letter, and a portkey, a form of transportation, to the station to Hogwarts," McGonagall said, drawing a quill from her robes, and tapped it with her wand, muttering a few words. "It is set to activate on September 1, at 5:45 am in eastern time."

"Where will I get my supplies?" Alex asked, picking up the quill. "And do you guys really use these to write?"

"You can get your supplies in Queens," answered Dumbledore. "In this pub named the Leaky Cauldron. Just ask for the way into Nightlock Drive."

Alex nodded. Dumbledore and McGonagall stood up, and headed towards the door. Dumbledore looked back, "Your parents left you their vault. When you get to Nightlock Drive, go to Gringotts first. See you at Hogwarts, Alex."


So how was it?

If you like it, or if you have any criticisms, please leave a review. And don't forget to give me suggestions for pairings, M/M, F/M, F/F are all fine.