Chapter 1: St Peters

Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling, including the majority of characters, spells etc. used in the fic.

"You freak! Hit him again boys!"

A young boy sprawled out on the floor was struck yet again in the ribs by a burley teen. He coughed into his hand, when he looked back at it; there was a mixture of blood and saliva on his palm.

"Had enough yet, Eddy Weddy?" The ringleader of the teen gang shouted, directly into his face, the sound of vicious laughter met the young boy's ears.

He knew he should fight back, not with fists, but to throw him against that hard, head-cracking brick wall with an invisible force. However, he just laid there; one more mysterious 'accident' involving him and he was to be carted off straight to the nut house. There were many terrifying stories about that place circulating around this house, mainly involving a man name Dr. Linus, the asylums chief 'psychologist'. He did not wish to go there, 'once you go in, you never come out'.

"Awww, what's up little baby?" one of the cruel boys crowed sarcastically,"You not going to fight back? What a shame, we could have had some fun!"

The young boys anger was rising rapidly, if they didn't shut up soon they were going to get hurt.

"Come on lads, let's go down to the park. You hurt anyone in this house again, and you're dead! You understand that Edward?"

With a kick in the stomach, the group of teens departed. The boy lay there for a while, considering his options; why did he put up with this? Why didn't he just run away from this hell hole? He knew the answer to that already, as he had considered it many times before; an eleven year old, homeless and alone on the streets of London? That was not a good idea.

So he picked himself up and retreated back into his room, which was located in the basement. All of the children refused to share a room with him; "he's weird!" they would protest. So he was moved to the bottom of this big building. Not that he complained, he liked it down here; the solitude, the eeriness, the darkness. His room was of an average size, the other rooms are much larger, but around 3 to 4 children slept in them, not one. The room was covered by grey, harsh looking bricks, there was no colour, apart from his bed spread which consisted of a dark green. His bed was placed at the far end of the room; around the bed was a desk, wardrobe and a bookshelf. Everyone else shared the opinion that he read far too much, but he enjoyed reading; he gained more knowledge, and knowledge was everything in his world. Knowledge led to power. If a stranger walked into this room, they would immediately think it belonged to an adult, not a child. A child's room contains toys, and children's books; this boy was far too mature and eager to grow up for that, normally there would also be photo's around the walls, showing their family. He did not have any photos; neither did many others in this building. This is because they have no family. It was an orphanage, St Peters Orphanage London, which housed many children who could be adopted, though that rarely happened; who wanted a brand new 8 year old or teenager?

The boy, currently reading 'Political Power through the Ages', was named Edward Burke, he had lived here since the age of 5 months. Apparently he was left on the orphanages doorstep 11 years ago. Many had wanted to adopt him; he was a beautiful baby. However, when it came to signing forms, when they had put him back in his crib, they would always change their minds.

Edward occasionally wondered what it would be like if he was adopted or if he had any living relatives, but he would soon stop that thought process, saying 'Pull yourself together Edward! I don't need family! I am perfectly fine on my own, I always will be!'

He was a very independent boy, he had not always been this way; he started declining all comfort or love shown his way when the taunting, violence and abuse started. 'They are jealous'; this is what he always told himself when he received snide comments or punches. 'I am more than they will ever be. I will gain knowledge, wealth, prestige and power! They will fall before me'

As you can most likely tell, he was a very ambitious young boy; he had goals he needed to achieve. He knew he could carry them out, he was special you see; he could manipulate everyone around him when he wanted to with his charm, charisma, good looks, beautiful smile and if needs be, fear that he could induce into anyone he wished instantly. He tried to stay away from the latter option as this could get him into trouble with the 'pastoral carers', though the majority of the time he could successfully lie is way out of trouble. He considered himself to be somewhat a master in deception, though he still had a lot to learn. However, this is only skimming the surface of what Edward Burke can do; he has some sort of unexplained power inside of him, it coils up when he is angry or scared, and he can release it. Only yesterday he released this power on a boy who was questioning his intelligence, he is currently in hospital requiring an operation on his broken arm. Edward Burke knew he was destined for greater things, things greater than a mediocre 9 to 5 job, greater than simply passing through life day by day and achieving nothing what so ever.

Edward checked his cracked wrist watch, 10pm. He decided he would leave his book until tomorrow morning, he climbed into bed, unaware that tomorrow morning he would experience the happiest day of his life. By 9am Edward was up, washed, dressed and fed. He was lounging around on his bed, 5 pages away from finishing his book. Upstairs there was a knock at the old wooden, brass handled door, the main carer; Mrs McFee opened it to reveal an around 50 year old woman. She was wearing a plain black dress, looked clearly like she was from some business organisation, and she wore her greying brown hair in a tight bun. She had the air of authority surrounding her.

"Mrs McFee I presume?" the stranger at the door had a strict sounding voice that came from her thin lips.

"Yes, yes, that it she. May I ask who are you, and what you are calling for?" Mrs McFee tried to sound polite, but today was one of those days; looking after 30 children with only 3 carers, and that poor Edward has been accused of mistreatment yet again.

"My name is Minerva McGonagall, and I am here to inform a Mr Edward Burke that he, if he wishes, shall attend a boarding school for talented young children".

I hope you like the story, any improvements you can think of please tell me! I don't mind criticisms :) New Chapter up in less than 24 hours, yay!