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And special thank to FlyingLovegood123, who beta-ed this chapter.


The first thing he saw when he opened his eyes was the gloomy, cloudy sky.

It took him a few moments to come to his sense. He was lying flat on his back on the ground, which was covered in grass. His head hurt badly, like what one usually experienced when having a hangover, and the pain was draining him of his strength. There was a feeling of weakness that spread to his limbs, preventing him from moving, as well as an irritating buzzing sound in his ear.

…drip…

Something wet dropped down on his cheek. Water?

…drip…

Small droplets of water were falling on him. They were coming from somewhere above. Oh, rain. Just great. His clothes were quickly soaked through. Well, at least the downpour helped him jerk out of his trance. Regaining the use of his arms, he pushed them against the slippery grass and lifted himself up. The sight that greeted him was unfamiliar, something he had never seen before.

He was sitting in what seemed like a small garden. To both his right side and left, there were a lot of houses in a line that stretches beyond his vision. Houses made of bricks, painted in different colors with glass windows. They looked strange somehow. What was odd, he didn't know, he just had a feeling that things had to be different.

Different? Like what? He asked himself, receiving no answer. He took a few deep breaths and started assessing his situation. He seemed to be in quite a predicament here. Why was he here? How did he get here? As his thought reached those lines, he suddenly gasped, feeling an icy dread gripping his heart.

He didn't remember.

Only now did he realize that his memory was like a blank slate. There was nothing in it. No familiar faces, no images of where he lived…nothing. Not even his name.

Who was he?

He struggled to get on his feet with difficulties. His shirt sleeves, which had some how become twice as long as his arms were tangling him. The clothes he was wearing were apparently too big for his size, and the fact that the rain water made them stick to him uncomfortably did nothing to help the matter. He broke into a run. When you were all alone in a foreign place, you tend to panic quickly. Especially for him, who now didn't even have his identity to cling onto. He tripped time and time again, but he didn't stop. All he wanted to do was to get out of this nightmare and wake up in somewhere that made sense. But he didn't know where that was. What exactly happened to him? He felt really, really scared.

So, he kept on running. He didn't notice that the glass windows on the houses he ran past smashed like they were hit by something hard, or that everything lying in his path was flung to the side without anything touching them, or even the way streetlights above his head exploded into tiny little bits.


Dumbledore was sitting in his office, shifting through the heap of paperwork that needed sorting out in preparation for the new school year. The procedure was the same as it had always been, but this year, Hogwart was going to receive someone special: Harry Potter. The headmaster was well aware of the hardship the poor boy had gone through at the muggle house he had been living in until now, and he certainly deserved better treatment. However, he had to be watched over carefully. For someone too young, exceed fame guaranteed nothing good. And there is also the matter of the Sorcerer Stone. Dumbledore had promised Nicholas that he would keep it safe, but figuring out where to hide it was proving to be a problem. With Voldermort likely on the move, he had to take care of this matter properly.

He was interrupted from his work five minutes later by professor McGonagall. A delivery owl perched on her shoulder, a letter tied to its right leg. From the look of it, it seemed like the sender was from the Ministry. Dumbledore frowned. What business could the Ministry of Magic have with him?

"Professor Dumbledore, you have a letter." announced the Transfiguration teacher.

"Thank you, Minerva. Just leave it here."

Dumbledore took the letter and waited for the other person to exit the room. He opened the envelope.

Dear Professor Dumbledore

We are writing this to inform you that the Ministry of Magic had just detected an unknown source of underage sorcery. Normally this falls into our area of duty, but due to an unexpected lack of record and information, we require your help in investigating the matter as well as making arrangement. The location is as follow….

Dumbledore folded the letter, feeling a little puzzled. Unknown source of underage sorcery? The Ministry had always kept a thorough record of all children that possessed magic since they displayed the first signs. And it was quite rare for Fudge to ask him a favor like this, the man liked to keep his job to himself. But at any rate, it wouldn't do any harm to check this out.


The headmaster arrived at his destination in less than five minutes later. It was raining hard, and as far as he can see, there were no people on the street. As for magic, however, there were clear evidences that it had been used. It was quite a sight, really. The whole place looked like it was swept over by a small hurricane. Shattered glass was glittering on the walkway and the house owners were observing the damage done to their property, not knowing exactly how it happened. Incidents that involved underage sorcery were usually something small that resulted from instinctual magic, but for it to be powerful to this extent seemed slightly ridiculous. Dumbledore followed the trace, which led him quite a long way to a dark corner of the street where, if looked closely, strong gust of wind occasionally blew up, scattering paper and leaves. He approached it carefully, his wand drawn. It was hard to make out in the rain, but he could see a small figure hidden in the shadow.

"Lumos."

The tip of his wand flared up, casting an illuminating light over the dark shape, which was revealed to be a small boy. He had dark hair and he was sitting huddled with his back against the wall. Since he was putting his head between his knees, Dumbledore couldn't see his face, but the boy was no older than twelve and was dressed in what seemed like adult clothes. One thing Dumbledore was sure of that this boy was very scared. Startled by the sudden light, he looked up and spotted the stranger who was closing in on him and Dumbledore found himself being nearly swept off his feet. Steadying himself, the headmaster saw that the boy was eyeing him warily.

"Who…who are you?" he asked Dumbledore in a small, shaky voice.

Bringing his hand out in a reassuring stance, Dumbledore tried to calm the boy.

"I'm not going to hurt you."

"Do you know me?" the sentence sounded desperate.

"No, I don't believe so. But…" Dumbledore tried to take a step closer but was immediately pushed back by an invisible force.

"Where is this place? Where am I? WHO AM I?"

The boy looked to be on the verge of tear, and Dumbledore finally knew the problem. This boy had lost his memories, that was why he was panicking and his magic was spiraling out of control.

"I don't know." The headmaster made another attempt to soothe the distressed boy "But I can help you."

"How?"

"I can help you with your magic first. Then we can figure something out."

The boy looked at his hand. He wore an expression like he had just realized something important. Then he said slowly.

"I…have magic…"

"That's right." Dumbledore tried to get closer again, this time successful. He placed a hand on the boy's shoulder "Come on, let's get you out of here."

The small figure finally stood up. He looked at the headmaster in the face and asked

"Who are you?"

"You can call me professor Dumbledore."

"Pro..fess..or…Dum…ble…dore…" the boy repeated.

"Good. What about you? Do you remember your name?"

The boy shook his head.

"I see. We'll need something to call you though. Let's see…" Dumbledore frowned "How about…Edward Thompson? Is that okay with you?"

A small nod.

"Then it'll have to do. Follow me."

And with that, Dumbledore took off with his new small companion.