Author's Note:

I'll rarely post another Author's Note because of the discontinuity it may cause. Back to topic, this fiction is geared towards an idea we friends had. 'Let's all go to Hogwarts!' :D Anyways, there are going to be five POVs in this fic, each coming one after the other, one chapter for each. Reviews are appreciated and welcome. Thanks for reading it..

I believe the starting 10-15 chapters are not going to be top notch... the other four writers aren't experts after all but I'm sure all of them will improve.

Later. :)

Portsmouth

10 Years Earlier

A tall figure walked across the docks, feeling the cold harsh wind biting his face. His dark cloak flapped around the edges, sending chills down his spine. He quickened his pace as he felt close to his destination… so close… he would reach there soon. He smiled grimly in satisfaction. The last piece of the jigsaw fit correctly. Suddenly he halted. Obscured by mist, he could still make out the faint writing on the tattered old sign. Rosedale's Orphanage.

Stealth was going to be the key here. A simple Unlocking Spell Alohomora from his birch wand took care of the door as it opened inwards, creaking slightly. The chilly November winds rustled through the trees, dropping off snow. Despite his flimsy cloak, he showed no signs of being cold. The old battered door opened with a small creak.

The hallway was dark. Presumably, all the occupants were asleep. He crept forwards, a single candle on the mantelpiece guiding him ahead. His shadow flickered on the wall, illuminating the old framed newspaper clippings that adorned the damp walls. Paying the slightest amount of attention to them, he went forward in search. He had to find the solution.

The clock chimed eight.

He located the room. His heartbeat quickened in anticipation. This was going to be the end. This would finally solve it all. He opened the door in a swift, fluid motion…. teenagers. He wasn't looking for a bunch of egomaniac homeless teens. He flicked his hair in irritation and exited the room.

The clock chimed nine.

Next room. Girls were sleeping peacefully. A thin line formed around his mouth. He was getting impatient. In annoyance, he stopped for a bit. Think, come on. You need to do better than this. He isolated all thought from his being, shaking his head as he did this. Concentrate. He focused on the memory he had seen.

He knew where to go now. Smiling, he went forward.

Finally. He reached it. The infant section.

Tens of babies slept peacefully in the small room. The darkness didn't dissuade him a bit.

'Lumos!'

The tip of his wand illuminated to a powerful source of light. He would have a tall order picking up the perfect host. He swept his dark gaze on the innocent sleeping masses…

The clock chimed ten.

There! The perfect one. Dark hair? Check. Strong body? Check. That might just do it. Feeling just the tiniest bit of guilt for shaping the destiny of this child without his consent, he wen forward with it nevertheless.

With a swish of his wand, he summoned the sleeping baby from the crib. Masterfully, he then called out a name into the nothingness. 'Antonio?'

With a loud crack, what appeared to be a batty old rag appeared. Funnily enough, the batty rag had large eyes and what appeared to be ears. A ragged and dusty cloth was the only garment it wore.

'Yes, master?', the house elf tremblingly asked, as if wincing after looking at the pale face of the person who had summoned him.

The clock chimed eleven.

'Take the child. And the cat, too. You know what to do. Guard the child with your life. That's your last order, Antonio.'

With a swift, decisive nod, the house elf disapparated with another loud crack. This time vanishing the child with him.

The vacant face of the potions master looked on grimly as he disapparated too. Severus Snape had a long night.

The clock chimed twelve. Midnight.

SHREY

Street life in India can be hard. Really hard. To survive, you have to show no mercy. This is what I have learnt in the ten years of my existence on this pathetic spinning ball we call Earth. It's every man for himself, people.

I grew up in the confines of the wretched school hall in Cochin, a metropolis in the southernmost state of India, Kerala. There were fourteen of us. Fourteen orphans bundled up in a small room with cracked walls. Summers were scorching hard. Winters were freezing cold. Monsoon was even worse, when the ceiling would start leaking, making the room even more damp and depressing.

If there was one consolation, it was Madam Miriam. She was a Human Rights activist who visited every Saturday. Upon her visit, she always got us sweets and a healthy dose of love. The two hours she spent with us brought the only salvation in this hellhole. I was exceptionally close to her, learning English from her and always sitting by her side. I was overjoyed when she got me my only book, Key To The Stars, a book on zodiac signs.

'You are a Scorpio, just like me, Shrey. Scorpios are the true fighters who stand up for others. We are the protectors. I know you'll rise from here, son.' These are the words I remember hearing from her. These are her words that are etched into my very soul.

It was another Saturday when things went wrong. Horribly wrong. It's funny when stuff changes from bad to total shit storm in a lesser amount of time than it takes to spell your name backwards.

That day, she never came. I was waiting at the door for signs of her familiar white Fiesta. The sound of it's honking never came. I was crestfallen. When there's only one person that matters to you, and even they deceive you, it feels terrible.

Next Saturday, same story. No car. No Madam Miriam. No sweets. No love. Nothing to look forward to. Nothing. Life seemed at the epitome of nothingness when I heard the news.

They shot her.

"The press regretfully announces the brutal cold-blooded murder of erstwhile popular resident of Cochin, Ms. Elizabeth Miriam. Ms. Miriam, a Human Rights activist was shot down by a gang of chain robbers on the Trivandrum-Cochin express highway. Evidently, the robbers were after 2007 White Ford Fiesta, which is missing from the scene of crime. Meanwhile, Police Inspector V. Raman has said that he will be doing his best to prosecute the ones behind this murder."

It was horrible.

Ms. Miriam… gone forever. The only friend I ever had. My only link to the world outside of this abominable life had perished.

Something broke in me that day. It was like a bottle crashing and releasing it's contents into me…. I felt powerful… I felt strong… I felt wisdom entombing me…

A blue aura engulfed me….. levitating me four feet above the ground…. I could sense my eyes radiating a pale white glow… I could feel my insides going white-hot….

And suddenly, I was back on my feet. In the same room, as if nothing had happened. Privately I was thankful that nobody had seen me. Everything was back to normal. Except for one thing.

I knew who the murderers were.

The energy that had grown inside me had done one thing. Somehow, it had channeled what I wanted to know the most and given me the answer- the details of the robbers.

My inner senses told me that the robbers were hanging out behind Trafalgar's Square near the Westport Mall.

I started walking.

After two hours of incessant car dodging, I finally reached the dingy motel.

The torn signboard was covered in grime, dirt strewn all over. My raven hair waved in the wind. I proceeded forwards, knocking aside the feeble door with one swing of my arm. The fat man at the reception barely registered the existence of my small ten year old frame. Ignoring him, I proceeded forwards. My new senses told me exactly where the robbers were hanging out. I walked past a series of doors until I came face-to-face with Room 108.

Am I going to do this? Hell yeah!

Talking to yourself. First sign of insanity.

I broke open the door with inhuman strength. The splintered remains of the frame directed towards one of the trio, hitting him squarely on the chest. Instant death.

I punched the other guy on the solar plexus with all my might. As he doubled over in pain, I cleanly snapped off his neck in one solid blow. Handy talents for a ten year old.

I could see the shock in the bewildered eyes of the last guy. It must have looked insane, a small child with Key To The Stars in one hand killing people left and right.

'With compliments from Madam Miriam,' I smirked. I could feel something possessing me. I had to get out. I had to stop. My hands raised of their own accord and released a green bolt of energy that hit the panicking man squarely on the chest.

Astounding, I'm special.

And then I felt weak and powerless. I felt the strength sapping out of me.

I fainted.